#so obsessed with alice's shirt (the one where shes closing the door) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

exquisitley-obsessed · 4 years

Text

We’re Leaving (Carlisle Cullen x Reader)

Author: @exquisitley-obsessed

Summary: The already infatuated Carlisle Cullen and reader are faced with their next challenge, but this time the danger is within their own family. Edward needs his father as he pulls away from Bella over the course of NEW MOON, but this means Carlisle must make the choice between his own happiness and that of his son’s. No matter what he chooses, someone’s going to get hurt.

Word Count: long

Pairings: Carlisle Cullen x Reader

Warnings: Heartbreak, abandonment, sex, drug abuse

A/N: Technically this is a fourth part of my ‘Dinosaur and the Vampire’ series however you don’t need to read it to understand. Plus, in my head this part functions better as a oneshot.

Dinosaur and the Vampire:

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

MY MAIN MASTERLIST

Y/n gasped, the pain was rippling from her chest now, ricocheting through her muscles as she collapsed on her bedroom floor. She could already guess his next words.

‘We’re leaving.’

***

The past couple of months had been glorious. Following the disaster that was the ending to y/n’s junior year where she somehow managed to get tangled up in a high speed car chase with a vampire named Victoria (who had promptly taken her hostage in order to track down y/n’s best friend Bella) - things had begun to look up.

Her infatuation with the town’s local medi-hero Carlisle Cullen had surprisingly taken off, after of course he revealed himself of being a 300 year-old vampire who had a taste for bunnies. Most days she met up with him at his mansion in her brand-new white Ford Bronco, that which Carlisle had bought specifically to save her life and, following the destruction of her own car, decided to gift her - that was an interesting conversation with her parents.

Of course that accident hadn’t just left her with a beautiful new mechanic baby but also some battle scars. The largest of which was a crescent white line arching over her left brow, not to mention the faded lines circling her waist. Her arms had healed up nice enough, the rope had caused them to double in size as blue and green bruises splotched on the surface for the first few weeks but they eventually died down. The story went that after being in a lot of stress and anxiety y/n had lost sight of the road and crashed into a car and it was stunning how no one thought to question it.

It was difficult being around her personal doctor for the first few days after the crash. So often would she catch him staring mournfully at her scar and bound hands, evidentially blaming himself for her battered state. Y/n spent most of the time convincing him she was fine and reminding him that she would go through so much worse to be where she was today.

And where she was, was a few weeks into her affair, unbeknown to all apart from Carlisle’s family and Bella. Together, Carlisle and her would often circle around the endless abyss of wood and glass that was the Cullen house, or drift up and down the small forest of a garden they had out back. Talking, always talking.

Carlisle was fascinated by every aspect of her previously thought mundane life. She could watch as he made mental notes of her favourite bands and books, what colleges she wanted to go to, her dream job. Y/n so often hated talking about herself but only because she felt that her life paled in comparison to that of Carlisle’s. He had of course explained his entire existence to her, right from its origins in 17th century London, and yet there was still so much he mentioned off-hand that left y/n floored.

Of course with the cat being out the bag, y/n’s and Bella’s friendship felt like it was flourishing for the second time. Now Bella was able to be honest with why she had been so distant, she didn’t have to lie when she explained the intensity of her and Edward’s relationship or why she kept disappearing with him after school. Y/n was able to confine to her about her relationship with Carlisle, about the way he always seemed to be looking at her through his soft amber eyes and the way he was so comfortable in touching her. Constantly brushing his fingers over her wrist or stroking her hair out of her face. All in all y/n had never been happier, of course until Bella’s tragic 18th.

***

For a night that would be so monumental to y/n’s life it seemed strange she wasn’t even present. Her parents had somehow dragged her on a holiday in Florida. And after giving Bella her early birthday present and a promise to Carlisle that she would be careful, she hadn’t thought much more of her time away. She spent most of the time on the beaches, reading and reliving all her memories with the doctor.

He had kissed her only a few nights ago. It came quite literally out of the blue. She was only stopping by his house to pick-up Edward’s copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye’ when he was at the door waiting for her he seemed somewhat disturbed, as though he had had a rough day at the hospital. She had smiled at him as she got out and he in turn had pattered down the front steps.

“Hi.” Was all she managed to get out before he had caught her lips in his, his body flushed against hers as she was pushed against the car.

“Sorry.” He whispered breathlessly when the kiss had unfortunately come to a close and he rested his forehead against hers, gently rocking her in his arms. “I couldn’t wait any longer.”

Yet she couldn’t stay on holiday forever and inevitably she returned to the mess that was life back at Forks. When she got home the first thing she wanted to do was see Bella, to ask her about her birthday, if Alice got her that necklace y/n helped pick out, but Charlie was no help.

“I’m sorry y/n...” He looked incredibly stressed. His shirt old and stained his hair sticking up at the back, heavy set bags hanging below his eyes. “Bella...she’s...she’s not good right now.”

Y/n assumed Bella had come down with something and so she shrugged it off, blaming Charlie’s appearance on well, Charlie stuff. It was the next day at school when things started to feel really wrong, when the pain began to dig it’s hole.

***

“You looking for the Cullens?” Angela asked. Y/n snapped her head around, embarrassed that she had been caught glaring at the completely empty table near the back of the cafeteria. She would have never guessed it was related to Bella’s illness.

“Something happen?” Y/n tried to appear disinterested, picking at her food. It was September and not sunny so it didn’t make sense for them to be away perhaps they were in need of a feed or maybe they had family business...

“Yeah, they moved away.”

Angela said it like someone would talk about the weather and yet she might as well have leaned across the table and shoved her fork through y/n’s chest.

“What?” The word squeaked out. Y/n felt the colour drain from her face.

“The dad...you know the doctor one...well apparently he got some big time job offer down in California and...”

Angela’s words dissolved into the air, muffled by some invisible blanket. Distantly y/n was aware of her arms going limp, her fork clattering out of her hands as her body tingled numbly underneath her. The worst feeling was the shortness of breath, the way air couldn’t seem to move through her lungs anymore as her chest was weighed down with what felt like a sphere of lead.

The rest of the day couldn’t pass slowly enough. In history it seemed like y/n was watching the clock forever her mind racing a million miles an hour. Surely they hadn’t left properly, Carlisle couldn’t leave without saying goodbye at least. No, it had to have something to do with vampirism, maybe an old friend called or maybe they were in danger, 5 more minutes then gym and then she would find out.

In the end she decided to skip gym altogether jumping in her car and racing home, still in her daze. She needed to see Bella and then she would head up to the Cullen’s, there was no way they had really moved away. Maybe it was just so the humans weren’t getting suspicious, a strange feeling pulled at y/n’s gut as she remembered that technically, she was a part of the ‘humans’ or supposed to be at least.

“Charlie is Bella in?”

“I’m sorry y/n-”

She pushed past him, muttering an apology as she went but Charlie appeared too exhausted to stop her. Turning left she raced up the stairs two at a time before exploding into Bella’s room, she would know from Bella, she would get her answer.

Bella sat on her bed, her face white, her eyes glossed over. She didn’t even look at y/n as she walked in.

“Bella?” Y/n’s voice was shaky, the tears already bubbling in her throat. She knew deep down that she already had her answer. “Bella?”

Finally she turned to her, but there was no recognition. Nothing. Complete emptiness behind her eyes as she stared back for a few seconds before her eyes flickered forward.

Y/n left, apologising to Charlie under her breath as she jumped back in her car. But it was too late, the pain had already settled in her chest, her mind was already convinced. They were gone. He had left. Without even saying goodbye.

It was inescapable now, it spread like fire across her body, consuming her whole. She tried to start up her car but her body doubled over and she grit her teeth in pain. It had begun.

***

She didn’t know where to go, what to do. Most of her wanted to go to the Cullen’s house but she already knew it was most likely empty, devoid of all life. Could she really handle that?

Y/n went to start up her car when she realised that this car was all Carlisle had given her besides her own memories. She raced out of it, turning away from the sight of it and running into her house.

When she got to her room she shut her curtains with so much vigour a few hooks snapped off the edge, she knew she would see the pale car in her drive if she left it open. Before she knew it she was crying, trying desperately to control her emotions before they consumed her whole. Then she saw it.

Resting on her bedside table was an ivory note with her name etched onto the page in rich navy ink.

‘Dearest y/n l’n,’

A letter. He had left her a letter. She opened it carefully, if what she assumed was true this, as well as her car, might be all she had left of him; her sobs still hiccuping in her throat, she raced her eyes over his calligraphy. Five paragraphs. That was all. Five paragraphs loosely explaining how Edward was in a rough place, how people were judging Carlisle for his youth, how he needed to put his family first - five paragraphs.

Y/n gasped, the pain was rippling from her chest now, ricocheting through her muscles as she collapsed on her bedroom floor. She could already guess his next words, the words to conclude the letter.

‘We’re leaving.’

The worst feeling was when she read ‘we’, she knew from this word alone she was to understand that Carlisle did not group her with his family. The letter gave no insinuation that he was deeply sorry for their departure, or that he would in any way return at all. How, in the space of a few hours, could her world be turned completely inside out?

She went from giddily planning a small future with Carlisle to believing he had never cared for her at all. If he did, it certainly wasn’t as much as she had cared for him. Another wave of pain beat her down. She was just a stupid kid with a crush. Another wave. She was a fool, an embarrassment to assume that he wanted her even half as much as she wanted him.

Her tears got too much then, the letter shaking out her hands as the pain, now unbridled, exploded out of her. The waves of heartbreak crashing into her again and again, her stifled screams bouncing off her walls and ringing back in her ears, haunting her with her own pain.

He was gone, and he had taken her heart with him.

***

“Y/n we’re worried about you.”

“Don’t be.” Y/n laughed loudly, pushing her untouched pasta around on her plate. Angela glanced at her through tense eyes. “I already have a mum, Angela.” The words came out harsher than she meant to, not that she cared.

“But seriously, Mack?” Angela whispered, her voice low so the others wouldn’t hear. Y/n rolled her eyes.

“We’re not a thing, we just hang out and he...helps me out.”

“He’s a druggie.” Her voice was low, accusing, incredulous. Another roll of y/n’s eyes.

“Duh Angela. What do you think I meant by ‘helping me out’.” Angela just shook her head disappointed. Y/n didn’t care, she couldn’t. Technically sitting at that lunch table on that Friday she was still coming down from her high this morning, her brain soft and fuzzed around the edges and, most importantly, the pain in her chest non existent.

The drug scene in Forks was nothing to be impressed by. It was only by luck that y/n had met Mack, a guy a few years out of high school who had never made it to college. Y/n was pretty sure he was crushing on her but she didn’t mind exploiting that a little if it meant she got high for free.

It had been four months since they had left. They might as well have taken Bella with them considering she was a shell of a human being: unresponsive, uncooperative. There was nothing behind her eyes, just like the day y/n had come searching for her. That had been one of the last times y/n had stepped foot in the Swan house. Partly because y/n’s new found drug habits wouldn’t go down well with Chief Charlie Swan, partly because y/n couldn’t stand the sight of Bella.

The emptiness, the hollowness, the pain. It was just a reminder to y/n of what was waiting for her the day she became sober. In the beginning, after a few days of wallowing in the pain, feeling as though she were unable to move, y/n had forced herself to go to the beach where she had ran into a bunch of La Push boys. They were smoking green and it was clearly their first time, they called out and invited y/n over clearly expecting that she wouldn’t accept.

But she surprised both them and herself by walking over. After sitting and smoking them with a bit she found herself smiling and laughing at their jokes as her head became warmer and fuzzier, moreover, the pain of his abandonment warmed into nothingness. She had asked them where they got the weed and they had pointed her in the direction of Mack.

“Down for tonight?”

Y/n read the text as it flashed across her screen.

“You bet :)″

She sent back. Two more lessons and then her high could be refreshed and the cycle could continue.

***

Y/n gasped as she awoke. Nightmares had been more common the past week. They were a regular occurrence when he had first left but going to bed high had always numbed it out. But recently his ivory skin and ribbons of muscles were becoming clearer through the haze.

Rolling over in the dark with some desperation she flicked on her phone and dialled his number.

“Hey Mack, I just called cause-”

“You have a bad high?” He murmured over the phone, distantly she could hear his TV playing in the background. She could picture him, half-dressed surrounded by trash as he got himself high for the third time today. Y/n pushed the image away - no, I’m not like that. It’s different for me, I have a reason.

“Yeah.” She muttered, “I just didn’t know who to call.”

“Usually bad highs are a sign you’ve been smoking too much.” She had basically been smoking consistently for four months now and if she wasn’t smoking she was drunk and if she wasn’t drunk then the pain began to settle.

“Ugh, are you going to tell me I have to stop?” She laughed quietly over the phone, trying to cover the slight desperation in her voice. Distantly she was aware of her parents sleeping in the next room, it was stupid, she was eighteen now and it felt as though she had been through enough trauma to move out, to get away from school. On the other hand school seemed to be the only thing holding her together now.

“No, you don’t need to stop smoking but maybe try something else?” He asked nonchalantly.

“Something else?”

“I stock more than green but it’ll have to be sooner rather than later.”

“Sooner?” Y/n murmured robotically. She had bought enough to get her through the week.

“This weekend?” He asked, almost as if he read her mind.

“See you then...your place?” She rolled over in the dark.

“See you then?” She could hear the enormous grin settle on his lips and it sent a shiver down her spine - she hung up. She had promised herself to never do anything more serious than weed but now she was faced with an ultimatum: break her promise or embrace the darkness.

***

“Hi Mack.” Y/n smiled when he opened the door, he didn’t say anything just grinned and stood to the side letting y/n into his dingy apartment. Y/n had used the same lie to her parents that she used whenever she came here - that she was sleeping over at Angela's. Not that they ever checked.

Of course she wasn’t sleeping over at Mack’s, to be honest she didn’t trust him enough for that, normally she left late and would drive her car up to the Cullens house, it wasn’t too far and the road was easy enough to follow when intoxicated. It was the only time was she was able to wander around the house without feeling any guilt or remorse.

Mack’s place was tiny, made worse by the clutter and rubbish. A small corridor lead to a small living room which the tiniest of kitchens looked out into. Mack had a strip of lights around the top of the ceiling that were constantly flashing multi-coloured as loud obnoxious music played, somewhat muffled in the smoke.

“Hey y/n.” Danny, Mack’s roommate, smiled from the couch, clearly already lost.

“Hey Dan.” She smiled before collapsing at his feet, her knees propped against the coffee table where booze and skins cluttered the surface.

“You’re in for a treat.” He slurred, his arms limp by his sides as his eyes flickered back and forth, his mouth ajar. Y/n felt somewhat excited at the sight of him, so out of his head - this excitement no longer frightened her.

“He’s not lying.” Mack laughed, full of energy as he jumped up and grabbed something off the kitchen counter before holding it in front of her face. A small white square was compressed in the middle of a tiny plastic bag. “These things pack a punch.” He laughed, y/n laughed. “You’re still down to do this right? I’m not going to pressure you or anything.” He said, and for a moment it looked like he was actually concerned for her.

Y/n thought seriously about it for a moment. There was nothing stopping her from getting up and walking out, telling him that it was a mistake to come here, even just telling him that she’ll run the risk of sticking to green. Except the weed wasn’t enough anymore, she was realising that. To keep him away she would have to go further, and she was more than willing. It seemed somewhat funny, that to escape her doctor she had to pollute herself.

“Of course.” Y/n heard her voice laugh as she shuffled out of her jacket and pulled her hair out from it’s knot. If Mack and Danny could, she could.

“Awesome.” He grinned before sitting down on the coffee table in front of her so that her head was somewhat between his knees. “This is how you take it.” He said, clearly enjoying being a ‘teacher’. Y/n could see him properly then.

Mack was in his early-twenties, the same age he was supposed to be. A short brown beard tufted around his jaw whilst shoulder length brown hair was pulled into a low pony at the back of his head. He was sweet really, just lost.

“Stick your tongue out.” Y/n obliged, picking up on the moment of tension as he placed the white square on her tongue with his forefinger. She felt no guilt as she lapped her tongue back into her mouth slowly, gazing into his dark eyes as his finger rested on her bottom lip.

The rest of the night was a blurry mess; mistakes were definitely made and y/n was definitely going to have to find a new dealer. It was strange how that night only happened because she was so desperate to escape Carlisle Cullen, and yet for most of it, it was his icy face that she was picturing instead of Mack’s.

***

Weeks had passed and y/n’s drug exploration was starting to get a little out of control. She was sure her parents were picking up on her strange behaviours: never home at weekends, always fidgeting, bleary eyed and always tired. Perhaps she was just being paranoid, Mack said that could be one of the side effects.

But it was lucky she was high one specific Friday as she parked her car outside Mack’s apartment complex. She glared at the Bronco, she had seen Bella ripping the radio (Emmett’s gift to Bella) out of her own truck, removing all traces of the Cullen family’s existence. It wasn’t so easy for y/n.

She was thinking of him again. It had been quite obsessive these past few days and that’s why when she first saw him, leaning against his black Mercedes in the shadows, she couldn’t quite believe her eyes.

“What the hell.” She was so sure she was hallucinating, she blinked fiercely.

“Y/n.” He said her name and she felt her eyes flutter closed, how good it felt to hear her name dripping from his lips. She wasn’t aware she had memorised his voice so well. She audibly hummed in response to the sound before snapping herself out of it and ignoring his form. Mack was just upstairs with something new to try and then he would go away. “Y/n.” He said her name again as though he were sure she hadn’t heard him.

Y/n ignored it. The sweetness of his presence was quickly turning sour, and the corners of the hole in her chest were beginning to sting.

“Y/n, it’s me.” That stopped her. From the corner of her eye she could see him step out of the shadows, his pale skin iridescent in the street light. He looked unsure, pleading, desperate. “Y/n.”

“No.” She gasped suddenly. There was no more guessing, she couldn’t even try to deny that it was truly him. She stumbled slightly in the street and he was by her side in a second. When she was stable in his arms he held a lock of her hair between his fingers inhaling deeply. “Your blood smells different.” He murmured. She had forgotten what it was like to be around people who could move so quickly. “Y/n, what have you been putting in your body?”

“Leave me alone.” She murmured, her head still fuzzy and numb from the sight of him. Was it a dream? No it couldn’t be. As she got over her shock, anger pooled in her gut.

“Are you high?” His eyes were confused and worried.

“If I am what would you do about it?” She smirked. “You have no right to critique my lifestyle.”

“Your lifestyle?” He asked somewhat incredulously, his eyes were slowly melting darker and darker. “Poisoning yourself with LSD is a lifestyle for you?”

“It’s a coping mechanism.” She spat suddenly. “To deal with the pain that you left me with.” That shut him up.

“I would’ve never left if I knew you would do this.” He grimaced. Wrong move.

“Stop!” She gasped suddenly, her arm snatching to her gut where she was sure the pain would brim over. She thought seeing him again would melt her troubles away, instead his presence seemed to intensify them. “Stop talking like you get a say in what I do! You lost that privileged the day you left! Left with nothing but a stupid note Carlisle!”

“I left to protect you. I didn’t want to cause you pain. Remember Victoria?” Was all he could say in response.

“Victoria...” Y/n spat. “What Victoria did to me pales in comparison to what you did. You’re the one whose hurt me the most Carlisle. Do you understand?”

She was still in shock at the sight of him. A million questions were racing through her head but none of them seemed as important now. Her shouting must have alerted someone’s presence because she heard movement near the apartment steps as someone walked up to them.

“Are you okay?” It was Mack but he seemed a million miles away now, unimportant.

“Are you her dealer?” Carlisle strode forward, his voice pure steel.

“Carlisle stop it!” She spat, jumping forward and pushing against his stony chest but it was like trying to move a mountain.

“Are you the one that did this to her?” Carlisle ignored her, still towering over Mack.

“You did this to me!” She suddenly exploded. Carlisle was past listening.

“If I ever see you near her again. I will break you myself, I promise.” His voice was calm meditated, as if every word had weight.

“What are you, her boyfriend?” Mack asked venomously. “Well then maybe I should let you in on a secret.”

“Mack shut up.” Y/n felt fear bubble into her throat. Sure she could swear in that moment she hated Carlisle but that’s all it was, a moment. There was no point in ruining her future.

“Your girlfriend ain’t too loyal.” Mack drawled out, a coy smirk slipping on his lips as he rocked back and forth on his toes. Carlisle tensed. “At least...she wasn’t last night.”

An animalistic snarl snapped from of Carlisle lips like a whip and within the second he had Mack pinned against the bonnet of a car. Then, just as quickly as he moved, he remembered himself. Letting Mack drop Carlisle’s breath heaved before he turned and stalked towards his car without sparing y/n so much as a glance. Always the pacifist.

“Carlisle.” She called, rushing after him but Mack caught her elbow.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in a relationship?” He asked and if y/n wasn’t mistaken he sounded somewhat heartbroken, all his previous anger evaporating.

“I’m not.” Y/n gasped struggling to get out of his grip.

“You’re in something.” He murmured, letting her go.

“I’m sorry Mack, I really am. I’ll...call you.” The words were falling over her shoulder as she escaped, but he was already gone and distantly she could hear his Mercedes ripping into the night as he drove away.

***

“It’s not his fault.”

“I don’t need this right now Edward.” After jumping into her Bronco y/n had followed Carlisle’s black Mercedes back to his house. During the drive she couldn’t decide whether her anger was riling up or fizzing into the air and thus, nothingness. He had been so close, she had put her hands against his chest, he was right there.

“Please I just...” Edward’s eyes were tentative as he blocked her path on the house steps, “It’s my fault why we even left, all he was trying to do was be a good father to me.”

“And you think that’s and excuse?”

“No, of course not.” He added hurriedly. “It’s just, I love him, and I know he loves you. Please don’t walk away from him.”

“Walk away?” Y/n gasped, angry tears pricking behind her eyes. “I never wanted to walk away. I never even considered it. You were the ones who left and you took everything with you.” Tears spilled and she hurriedly wiped them away. Edward grimaced. Y/n took her opportunity and stormed past him into the house. To her surprise there stood Rosalie and Emmett; a few hours ago and she would have run into their arms laughing, overjoyed to see her friends again.

“Where is he?” Was all she spat and to her surprise they looked somewhat intimidated as they pointed loosely in the direction of the kitchen. She stormed past them and up the stairs swinging a right to find Carlisle waiting for her, leaning over the counter his head in his hands, he glanced at her.

“Y/n I-” He began.

“Shut up.” Was all she said. Distantly she was aware that Emmett and Rosalie had followed her along with Edward. At the far window she saw movement and assumed Jasper and Alice had come to see what the fuss is about. “You had your chance to talk the day you left but you chose not to, so, what you’re going to do is you’re going to sit in that chat, patiently, whilst I stand her and say what I got to say...understand?”

Carlisle stood now, an internal battle dancing behind his eyes as he glanced from y/n to his family. Y/n was aware of them staring now, watching the leader of their family, the alpha male be challenged, all tentative to see what he would do next. Slowly and with weight, Carlisle walked a few paces before he slid down into a chair, leaning forward and resting on his knees as he looked up at y/n through his lashes. This sent a tremor through the family and within the blink of an eye they were all gone, giving Carlisle and y/n their privacy.

“Carlisle...” Now she was here, she wasn’t quite sure what to say. “I am...sorry...about Mack and what we...” She trailed off, maybe it was not the best idea to start with this. “But you can’t judge me. You just can’t.”

“I know.” He whispered, his brows furrowing apologetically.

“All this...the drugs, Mack, everything, all of it’s just me trying to cope. And it’s not an excuse but-”

“Please don’t apologise.” Carlisle whispered and within the second he was standing in front of her cupping her cheeks in his hands and brushing his thumb under her right eye. “Never apologise.” He kissed her forehead. “You did nothing wrong.” He kissed her nose. It seemed like he went to go kiss her lips but he hovered, as if he remembered himself and he pulled back slightly, resting his forehead against hers.

“I’m sorry for the way I behaved. It was foolish and embarrassing of me.” He decided to say. “Back at the apartments. It’s just...”

“Just what?” Y/n murmured, now in a daze.

“I could smell it.”

“What?”

“Your scent...on him. On his neck, his shirt. Deep down I already knew what had happened but then hearing him...say it...and gloat.” His teeth gritted.

“If it’s any consolation, if I knew you were coming back I would have never-”

“But you didn’t know I was coming back. Because I left you here with nothing.” He was talking to himself now. “I...” He began. “I knew I was hurting you the day I left, the idea alone tormented me for months but I kept lying to myself, telling myself I would put you in more danger, more pain if I came back. But seeing the reality of what I had done to you, coming back to your blood smelling different and...” He trailed off.

“I know.” Y/n filled the silence, overwhelmed now at the feeling of him flushed against her body.

“I’ve got to hand it to Edward.” He chuckled to himself. “He’s more persuasive than he looks.” They stood like that for a moment, just comfortable at being able to be around one another again before y/n scrunched up her eyes.

“God, I've just been so caught up in being angry at you that I don’t think it’s really settled that you’re here. I feel like I’m going to wake up and this is just going to be a cruel dream.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” He cut her off gently, his eyes steely. “Not because I’m afraid of what you’ll do to yourself if I leave, not because you necessarily need me. But because...I don’t know how many chances I’m going to get to love someone like this.” He chuckled slightly. “And I mean, I have an eternity stretched out in front of me...but to love someone the way I love you...completely and utterly and with every piece of my heart and soul...”

His words fizzled into the air, the greater meaning behind them understood by them and only them.

“I’m sorry about Mack.” They were swaying slightly now, as if there were some soft unheard music. “He’s sweet...and he’s just lost...I guess I was for while.”

“As long as it was...consensual.” Surprisingly this made y/n laugh, a noise he had missed with his whole soul.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore.”

And they didn’t. From an outsiders perspective no one could have guessed anything was ever wrong between y/n and Carlisle. Just as before things gently shifted back into place, old routines were picked up and recent habits died out. Carlisle made good on his promise, he spent the rest of eternity doing everything in his power to make y/n happy, for that was all that mattered for him.

“To love someone the way I love you.” Became their phrase. Before long journeys apart, before what felt like impending doom when it came to Victoria, or the Voultri. He murmured it to her before she slept and shouted it after her car when she pulled away - an ode to their relationship, and all that they had been through. Y/n and Carlisle, the Dinosaur and the Vampire.

Tag List:

@itsshelbygates

@quixoticcat

@pluckastarfromthesky

@flirtygerty

@sadbean18

@nialeesato

@the-fall-guardian-fox

@thechangingcolourswithinthewoods

@lazy-girl82

@bvbwestfall

@badedum-badaboom

@originalsoulcollector

@avengergirl130

@madison-e-mallory

@thecrazytealady

@ladyzombiielove

@mysingularitybts

@drunkinthemiddleoftheday

@imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl

@littleladdty

@the-witchers-whore

@hearteyesmotherclucker

@thecrazytealady

@mauvette268

@hearmecallinyou

@nijiru

@mauvette268

@violetpheonix2

@glimmering-darling-dolly

953 notes · View notes

mothandpidgeon · 3 years

Text

THE SINS OF THE FATHER - a Molly York story PART 2

(gif by @pajamasecrets)

PROLOGUE - PART 1

MASTERLIST

Characters: Dave York, Molly York (Carol and Alice, too)

Words: 3500

Rating: T

Warnings: character death (canon), loss of a parent, angst, training your daughter to be an assassin?

Summary: After contacting a mysterious acquaintance of her later father's, Molly York learns more about the man. And about his death.

a/n: I'm a little obsessed with this fic right now. I love writing soft!Dave and his daughter. I know this isn't the mean daddy Dave smut we usually love, but I'd love to hear from you if you're enjoying this!

Thanks @purplepascal042 for helping me with this part! Love you, B!

/ / / / /

Dave is exhausted from jet lag, sprawled on the bed, still in his shirt and slacks. The last job took a lot out of him. He needs a shower but his body won’t budge.

“Daddy are you sleeping?” Molly asks from the doorway in a stage whisper.

“What’s going on?”

“Will you help me with my homework?” she asks. She’s clutching a worksheet and a pencil.

“Sure. Come here,” he says and she climbs onto the bed beside him. “What’ve we got?”

“I have to interview a grown up about their job. For Career Day,” she explains.

Dave looks over the page, his tired eyes barely focusing. “Did you ask Mommy to do this?”

“I want you to do it,” Molly insists.

He lets Molly read him each prompt and he answers as simply as possible. She dutifully writes down each answer in scrawling pencil.

“How do you spell ‘investigation?’” she asks.

“Sound it out,” he encourages. He’s so burnt, he’s not sure he can manage to spell it either.

“‘What is your favorite part about your job?’” she reads.

Dave sighs longer than he means to. “Coming home to my family.”

“No, Daddy! It has to be about work!”

The address Capra had given Molly was a boarded up movie theater off the highway about 30 miles outside of DC. Molly told Carol that she was shopping for dorm decor when she’d left the house full of nerves. She’d gotten so good at lying, sometimes she believed her own.

The parking lot was empty, the cracks in its pavement filled in with grass, punctuated by street lights every few yards. Molly had expected to meet at a coffee shop or a restaurant, not some out of the way place. She was sitting on the trunk of her car, her leg bouncing, when a black BMW pulled up. The woman driving it looked to be in her late 40s, her hair pulled back neatly. When she stepped out of her car, she pulled her sunglasses down her nose and eyed Molly up and down.

“How old are you now? 20?”

“18,” Molly told her.

“You’re the older one?”

“Yeah,” Molly said.

Capra approached her and she hopped down from the bumper.

“Didn’t your dad ever teach you not to talk to strangers?” she asked.

Molly hesitated. She had her pepper spray in her back pocket and she was much younger, probably quicker than this woman. But Dad wouldn’t give her Capra’s number if he didn’t trust her. Still, Molly decided to lean against her car and keep her distance.

“You know a lot about me for a stranger,” Molly replied.

Capra grinned. She nodded her head back and said, “Walk with me.”

Molly paced the pavement with her, glancing at the woman beside her. She was slim with sharp features, whispers of frown lines in her face. Capra offered Molly a cigarette which she declined.

“Is Capra your first name?”

“It’s what my friends call me,” she replied.

There was a darkness in her tone that made Molly edgy.

“Did you work with my dad at the agency?” Molly asked.

That would explain some things. But Capra laughed.

“No.” Capra observed Molly and then her lip twitched up into a wistful smile. “Jeez I bet everybody tells you you look just like him.”

Molly’s stomach churned.

“Were you and my dad-”

“No,” Capra said. “God no. Your dad was...a complicated guy but not when it came to his family.”

Molly nodded, not sure if she felt relieved or if that just gave her more questions.

“So how did you know each other?” She asked.

“It’s a long story,” Capra said, scratching her forehead. “We did some freelance work together.”

Capra made some small talk, asking Molly where she was headed for college, what she’d be studying. Molly had so many questions of her own she could only manage short answers. Finally, she had to ask the question that had been nagging at her the loudest.

“Do you know what happened to my dad? How he died?” She’d stopped walking.

“I know the same as you,” Capra said.

“Which is?” Molly asked. She wasn’t going to accept such a vague answer.

Capra gave a wry smile. She flicked her cigarette butt to the ground and twisted it into the pavement under her shoe. Molly’s heart sped up. She’d caught Capra in a lie.

“You’re a clever one,” she said.

“It wasn’t an accident, was it?” Molly asked. She searched Capra’s face for an answer. “Please.”

“I wasn’t there,” she replied.

“But you know. Please. I need to know.”

Molly felt like she was holding her breath. Capra looked away, then back at Molly.

“You don’t want to know,” Capra said.

“I do,” Molly said. She balled her hands into fists so she didn’t shake Capra by her shoulders.

“He wouldn’t want you to know.”

“How do you know that?” Molly spat. “What the hell do you know about him? I’ve never even heard of you. You don’t know.”

“Trust me, there’s plenty about your father you didn’t know,” Capra snapped back.

Molly was so frustrated she wanted to cry. Instead she let out a growl and turned back towards her car.

“Fuck this!” She stomped away.

She’d crossed half of the parking lot when she heard Capra call after her. Molly squared her shoulders, tried to compose herself, and turned around to glare at the woman. Capra was clutching the bridge of her nose, her eyes shut. Finally she dropped her hand with an exasperated sigh and pulled out another cigarette. Capra lit it as she closed the distance between them, blowing smoke out of her mouth and shaking her head. She held the cigarette out to Molly.

“You’re going to want one of these. And you’re going to need to sit down for this.”

Dave parks the car in the driveway. Molly is sitting in the passenger seat, still grinning from her first experience at the shooting range.

“Now remember,” Dave says before he opens the door, “this is our secret. So if Mom asks where we were, just tell her our cover story.”

She nods eagerly but then her lips twist into a thoughtful frown.

“It’s lying,” she says.

Dave feels guilty for a moment. Deceit is practically second nature for him but what kind of father teaches his daughter to be dishonest?

“But it’s a white lie,” she justifies to herself. “Right?”

Dave kisses the crown of her head.

“It’s alright, baby. Everybody has secrets.”

Molly felt dizzy. The story Capra told her made her feel like she’d gone from a tilt-a-whirl into a funhouse. Everything was distorted and she was upside down. Already, she was replaying her memories of Dad with this new context tinging them like a dark filter.

Dad kissing her on the forehead before bed. Hoisting her onto his shoulders on the 4th of July. Singing along to “Baba O’Riley” and drumming on the steering wheel. Dad killing people. Earning blood money. Dying by someone else’s hand.

“It’s a lot,” Capra said. They were sitting in Molly’s parked car, the windows rolled down, the sound of the highway traffic washing through like white noise. “But he did it for you.”

Molly’s eyes flicked to her. She hadn't asked for anybody to die.

“He was trying to take care of his family,” Capra clarified.

She let Molly sit in silence for a while as she sorted out what she’d just heard. Molly felt like she was grieving him all over again. Except this time she mourned the father she knew.

“My mom-"

“She never knew,” Capra said.

Molly nodded weakly.

“It was a secret because he loved you.”

Molly felt a tear slip from her eye. She didn’t want to feel hurt. She didn’t like feeling deceived. She wiped her face and set her jaw.

“What happened to Mac?” she asked.

She remembered meeting the man who had killed her father. Everything that had happened just before he died was so clear in her memory. She could still see Mac’s face, his friendly smile.

He’d seemed like such a nice guy. She remembered asking him a load of questions as he rode with them to school and he’d laughed and told Carol what a bright girl she was.

It sickened her to know he’d been right there. So close. And she was so small and clueless. Had Dad known what was coming?

“He lives up in New England,” Capra said. “Retired.”

Molly turned to Capra, anger burning in her chest.

“He’s still alive?” she asked.

“Afraid so,” Capra said.

Molly looked back out the windshield, took a deep breath. Retired. Dad would never get to retire. Go golfing or build model cars or whatever old men did.

“And you do...what my dad did?” she asked.

Capra didn’t confirm or deny it.

“You can’t discuss this. With anyone,” she informed her.

Molly nodded again. She wouldn’t dream of telling Carol this. She would protect her from the truth just like dad had.

“I’m sorry about this,” Capra said before they parted ways. “You’ve got my number. Give me a call if you ever need anything.”

As Molly drove home, thoughts solidified in her mind.

Dad was a killer. But he’d been a killer before, in the Marines. He’d still loved her. He went to her karate matches and read her bedtime stories. She might have lived her whole life without ever finding out what Dave York really was.

If he hadn’t died.

He could have taught her how to drive. Taken photos before senior prom. Visited colleges with her.

He would have danced with her at her wedding. Helped her fix up her first home. Held her future children in his arms.

If he hadn’t been murdered.

And what about mom? She wouldn’t have worried about calling plumbers and taking her car to the mechanic. Run herself ragged getting Alice to dance class and Molly to archery competitions. She wouldn't have had to sleep alone every night.

If it hadn’t been for Robert McCall.

Molly could absolve her father’s sins. But Mac she would never forgive.

“Young lady, open this door right now,” Dave barks.

“You told me to go to my room! I’m in my room!” Molly snaps through her bedroom door.

She’s given Carol lip all morning and he’s had enough of the attitude. Every day, his sweet little girl is fading more and more into a stubborn teenager.

“You do not slam doors in this house.”

“Leave me alone!” Molly yells. “I hate you!”

Dave knows that she’s angry and she’s got a bad temper. That these outbursts are the first signs of puberty rearing its ugly head. But, still, her words punch him right in the gut.

“If that’s how you’re going to speak to your father, then you’re grounded,” he manages.

“Good!”

Molly had been reserved ever since Dave’s death but, after meeting Capra, she felt her melancholy harden into bitterness. She went through college. She didn’t make a lot of friends or date many people. She studied, she practiced her marksmanship, she trained.

As soon as Molly turned 18, she was back at the gun range. It had been a long time since Dad had taken her for target practice but she was pleasantly surprised by her grouping. She’d had a good teacher.

She liked everything about shooting. Not just because it had been a secret she shared with her father. She liked the ritual– loading the magazine, carefully picking up the gun. She liked the focus– taking a deep breath and looking down the barrel. She liked the power.

Mac’s grin stayed fixed in her mind. She thought about it when she pulled herself from bed at five in the morning to do push ups. She pictured it when she worked herself into a sweat at the gym’s punching bag. She imagined it when she put holes through the head of the target at the shooting range.

She didn’t think she’d have the chance to do that in real life. But she dreamed about it almost every night.

Molly had always stayed close to home but she visited less and less. Alice started college in New York so Carol had an empty nest. Molly could hardly bring herself to visit her mother anymore.

Molly had always been good at keeping secrets but this one was the most difficult. Every time she saw Carol, Molly imagined how devastated she would be if she knew the truth. It had become too painful pretending and so Molly simply avoided most situations where she would have to.

Capra stayed in touch, calling every so often to check in. It was clear to Molly that she felt responsible for this angst but there was no one else to talk to about it.

Some people were driven by ambition or lust or creativity. During college, it felt like Molly ran on anger. It helped her concentrate, to work hard. She graduated at the top of her class and had no trouble landing a job that paid well.

Adulthood was different.

Dave had been wise enough to set up trusts for the girls so Molly hadn’t racked up student debt. But now she had rent and bills and car insurance. She couldn’t stuff herself with fries from the dining hall and call that a meal. She had to work long hours for a demanding boss. She had to take care of herself. She had to go through the monotony of life.

When it came down to it, she just didn’t have the energy to be mad anymore.

Molly still held a flame inside. Mainly, she kicked herself for not getting to the gym more often. She hated that she was moving on. She had dulled as she got older, as she followed the news every day and saw that the world was a shitty place where justice was scarce.

Molly was in her childhood bedroom, going through layers of old school papers, polaroids from her friends’ bat mitzvahs, and certificates from karate tournaments like an archeological dig.

Carol was finally selling the family home. Downsizing. The girls were there to help clean things out, decide what should go to the Salvation Army and what would be going home with them.

It pained Molly to think about the house with another family living inside it. Even now in her late twenties, she still walked in the door and expected Dad to come around the corner from the kitchen, to say, “Hey, kiddo!” the way he used to. Once the house was sold, she would never experience that sensation again.

It was strange, Molly thought, how you could live somewhere for all of your life and then, one day, you’re locked out forever.

Carol was moving to a two bedroom condo closer to the city so she couldn’t take all of this junk with her. Molly packed a bankers box with some trophies and a few of her favorite books and brought it down to the kitchen.

Alice was leaned against the island, lazily sorting through cookbooks. Although the day called for packing boxes and hauling trash bags, she was dressed to the nines. Molly wondered if her sister owned casual clothes anymore. Alice had gotten a job at a fashion magazine and, although it seemed like she was low in the pecking order, she acted as though she was Anna Wintour herself.

“That’s all you’re taking?” Carol asked, eyeing the box.

Molly shrugged. She already had already taken the things that were most precious to her long ago.

“You know, Mom, if you don’t want to move, I can help you with the mortgage,” Molly said.

Molly had been saving up to buy a place of her own but she would happily give that up for her mother. Nowhere would ever feel like home the way this house did.

“It’s time,” Carol said. “I don’t need this much house to myself.”

Mom didn’t look her age but the bags under her eyes had grown more defined. She’d stopped coloring the streak of grey hair that had come in at her temple.

“It’s a good idea,” Alice jumped in. “Mom needs to get out there again. She hasn’t met any guys in the suburbs.”

The idea of Mom dating always made Molly bristle. She didn’t want Carol to be lonely but couldn’t picture her with a man who wasn’t Dad. The same way she couldn’t see her living in a different house.

“I’m going to work on the study,” Molly said and retreated to the home office.

This had been Dad’s room and, even though it had accumulated a mess of things over the years— old workout tapes, discarded hobbies, books about tidying— it still felt like his sanctuary. Molly picked through a shelf and found Dad’s high school yearbook. She hoped Mom wouldn’t mind if she took that home with her. She liked pictures of her father in his youth, skinny and bright eyed with scruffy hair.

Molly sat on the floor in front of the built-ins and fished out a few baskets and shoe boxes from the cabinets. The first one contained family photos. Vacation in the Bahamas, Alice’s 4th birthday party, Molly dressed as a ninja for Halloween. She went through each one with great ceremony. Molly already had a bunch of photos of her and Dad so she tucked these back in their box and put them in the ‘keep’ pile.

The next box was filled with cards. Sympathy cards. Molly sighed as she went into them. One from Carol’s coworkers with a rose on the front. Sending you comfort. A small card that looked like it had come with a floral arrangement from cousin John. He’ll be missed.

There was a card with a painting of a serene beach scene. With deepest sympathy. Molly opened it and read the short message.

So sorry for your loss. It feels like we’ve lost one of the family. Send my love to the girls. - Mac

The cold rage that had burnt out reignited in Molly’s stomach, her entire body so tight she almost shook. She could feel tears sting in her eyes.

That motherfucker. That fucking asshole had the audacity to send a sympathy card. To send his love. That piece of fucking shit. Molly almost crumpled the card in her hands, as if she could wring his neck through it, but just then Alice wandered in. Molly dropped the card into her lap.

“What are these?” her sister asked, crouching down and grabbing a photo. “Aw! You looked so cute!”

Molly swallowed hard and tried to slow her heart rate as Alice sifted through the pictures.

“Christ, why does Mom still have these?” Alice complained, picking up one of the sympathy cards.

“They’re for Dad,” Molly said.

“It’s not like he got to read them,” Alice replied.

She tossed it back onto the floor.

“Why are you always such a bitch about Dad?” Molly asked, the animosity she’d discovered in Mac’s card spilling out of her.

“Sorry I don’t worship him.” Alice rolled her eyes. “It’s not like he was ever around. And when he was, he spent all of his time with you.”

Alice crossed her arms and looked away self-consciously. Molly felt a jab in her heart. She knew Dad loved Alice. He’d done awful things so that she could take dance lessons and go off to a good school where she could study whatever she liked. Things that eventually got him killed. But Molly couldn’t tell her sister any of that so she just stared at Alice with her mouth half open.

“Girls, when you’re finished up there, lunch is ready!” Mom called from the kitchen.

“Call me a bitch…” Alice grumbled as she left the room.

Molly pushed the cards into the ‘Trash’ pile.

“Ow! Daddy! Molly hit me!” Alice whines.

“You hit me first!” Molly growls.

Dave glances at them in the rear view mirror.

“Is that true?” he asks.

“No!” Alice says.

He knows she’s lying. Molly’s sitting there with her arms crossed as Alice clutches her elbow dramatically, lips set in a pout.

He knows what he’s supposed to say. Some bullshit about being the bigger person, two wrongs don’t make a right. And if Carol was in the car maybe he would. But the world doesn’t work like that.

“If you hit somebody,” he warns, “don’t be surprised if they hit you back.”

Molly took Mac’s card with her. It was sitting on her passenger seat when she pulled away, Carol standing on the lawn, waving. Send my love to the girls. Every time she thought about it, she got so pissed off she wanted to puke.

She couldn’t even wait to get home before she was dialing Capra, one hand gripping the steering wheel so hard her knuckles ached.

“What’s up, kid?” Capra asked.

“I need to find Mac.”

/ / / / / part three soon!

@pascalslittlebrat @purplepascal042 @starlightmornings @mouthymandalorian @danniburgh @originallaura @tuskens-mando @221bshrlocked @wyn-dixie @goddessinwolfskin @cheekygeek05 @fangirl-316 @fairytale07 @rosiefridayrogersunday @a-skov @skulliebythesea @oceanablue @rebel-soldat @stevie75 @evyiione @buckwildbarnes @likes-good-reblogs-even-better @silverwolf319 @killermonkeys45 @velia27 @anxiousandboujee @amneris21 @green-socks @pedro4ever @pedrocentric @kesskirata

#dave york #dave york pit #dave york fic #pedro pascal characters #molly york #nothing but respect for my queen carol york

51 notes · View notes

like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

Text

Alice in Gotham (Jervis Tetch x Reader)

This is crazy, by the way." You mumbled to yourself. "Are you sure you still want to do this?" Batman looked down at you and you nodded. "I've come this far." "Remember I won't be far away and I won't let you out of my sight." Batman reminded you. "Yeah, got it. You nodded, run your hands through your new hair. It was actually a wig, a blonde one that was styled like Alice from Alice in Wonderland. You wore a black skirt and white shirt with a black ribbon under the collar. After that was a red coat that you left unbuttoned and red lipstick to match. You memorised lines from the story but regardless, the blonde hair was important. It would be what fixates him. It was always the first thing that draws him in and then he can't let go.

It was very cold in Gotham on this particular night and you weren't sure if your trembling was in anticipation, fear or simply the cold. The plan was unconventional and utter madness, but so was Jervis Tetch. If you kept your distance from him, lured him away, then it would be fine The hostages would be safe.

Getting in was tricky, you had to be silent and create an exit for yourself. A quick and easy one. Luckily enough, the buildings entrance door had no door. Unfortunately, there were corridors upon corridors, like a maze. It seemed almost fitting that he chose this place. However your stomach dropped when you found he wasn't alone.

Two-Face, Scarecrow and the Riddler were also present with Jervis. You silently cursed to yourself. These other criminals made it significantly more difficult, not to mention two of which being genius level in intelligence. You were going to just leave, you turned, ducking behind a corner before Jervis' voice rang out. "Alice?"

Your eyes widened and you hurriedly moved into a dark room. Hiding under the table under the window. He had to have seen the blonde curls, that's the only thing that would ever spot a mile away. "Tetch, now is not the time for your damn hallucinations! No one is there!" Two-Face snapped. "I'm certain! Certain, see!" Someone sighed. "Well why don't you show me where you saw Alice, hm?" The voice was much less rough than Two-Face's whilst the Riddler's voice was always filled with narcissism. That left only Jonathan Crane- the Scarecrow.

You heard them grow closer, turning the corner stopping outside the room you were in. "Are you certain you saw her? You know the mind tends to play tricks..." Jonathan asked. His voice was monotone and smooth, a complete opposite to his frightening obsession with fear. "Certain, I am, Mr Crane! Certain, I am! Poor Alice must not have seen me. A dark night this can be!" His words sent a shiver down your spine. Jervis wouldn't be anywhere near as intimidating if he spoke like an ordinary person. The door of the room you were hiding in creaked open and a light scanned the room. The table blocked any chances of you being found. Your eyes boring into the two pairs of legs. Your heart pounded in your ears but you tried to keep your breathing as quiet and to a minimum.

"Come on, already!" Two-Face's voice rang out. Jervis huffed. "Dismissive! Rude! I don't like your attitude!" Jervis called back but they turned out the light and walked away. You couldn't help but silently thank Harvey for saving you even though he didn't intend to.

This building had previously been offices, as hinted by the many rooms sectioned with dividers and many old computers. All left abandoned as though everyone collectively got up and left without explanation. "Well, I say Crane, Nygma and I take this lot a couple of floors up. We all know Jervis isn't any help with that." Two-Face grumbled. Jervis made a noise of protest. "He's right, Jervis. You keep an eye on things down here. Come up to floor 1 in ten minutes." You didn't understand how everything Edward said, came off as smug. It was odd and very annoying. "Everyone, up!" Two-Face roared and you heard rustling, a cluster of footsteps, cries and whispers in fear.

The three escorted the group and you hid behind the furthest corner. None of the Villains caught sight of you but a couple of hostages did. They sent you pleading looks filled with terror and tears. You put a finger to your lips, nodding at them. It was the most assurance you could give. "Oh how I do wish it was time for tea!" Jervis almost whined to himself as the group headed upstairs. You had to follow them, you knew you did but the Batman was specific, focus on Jervis. Although you couldn't bring yourself to leave the building without those hostages guaranteed safety. You were also very conscious of the tracker attached to your shirt. If Batman entered through this floor, there was a chance the other three would catch on.

Maybe it was a terrible decision but it was what you came up with at the time. You'd have to follow them up there and you'd have to get Jervis to follow you. You considered getting his attention and making a run for the stairs but then you'd run into the other villains and the hostages. Then an idea struck you. If you could get Jervis' attention for a couple of minutes, letting those upstairs be settled and then come up there, they'd think nothing of it. Then your remembered Edward saying ten minutes. Ten minutes, you could do that.

You picked up a tiny stone from the doorway, it was small enough and heavy enough to make a noise but not too much noise as to alert upstairs. You tossed it and it bounced off the opposite wall with a 'clack'. It got Jervis' attention, you heard him approaching. "Little mouse? Little door mouse?" He stood at the door looking at the stairs before turning in the other direction. At the same time you moved forward before running off as quietly as you could. With some luck, he seemed to catch a glimpse of the blonde hair. "Alice!?" Jervis' voice rose slightly with excitement and wonder. He moved forward. He turned the corner and headed down the corridor, looking into a few rooms every so often. "Curiouser and curiouser!" He said in awe. "Alice, is that you?"

Minutes passed of you hiding and Jervis still hunting for you. Although he never ran towards you. That was odd but it seemed he was also growing more concerned that you weren't real meaning you'd have to take things up a notch. "Don't hide from me, Alice!" Jervis said weepily. " “Who am I? Ah, that's the great puzzle!" You said passing the hallway before him. Jervis' face lit up. "Alice! It is you!" "Off with their heads!" You whispered loudly, the corridor carrying your voice. You waited until he was turning the corner before you turned another corner. Heading to the stairs.

You stood by the stairs waiting for him. As he turned the corner, he was almost taken aback that you didn't disappear. He slowed down, half way down the corridor and almost uncertain- trying to read your expression. "It is not time for tea yet, Alice..." You pressed a finger to your lips. "We're late, so very late..." You turned to the stairs hurrying up them but still trying to be quiet. "Alice! Come back!" You heard Jervis hurry after you. You quickly moved into another office, closing the door behind you, matching the others. This time hiding in a cupboard.

Jervis looked around, seeing nothing but dim corridors and closed doors. "Alice?" Jervis whispered in a singing voice. Suddenly Edward and Jonathan turned the corner before him. Edward sighed. "That was eight minutes but I suppose it's the best you can do." Edward rolled his eyes. He moved towards a new set of stairs whilst Jonathan lingered, his eyes on Jervis. Jervis quicky hushed him. "Alice is here!" "Jervis, we've been through this. Alice isn't here. She may be in wonderland." Jonathan replied with ease. "I must insist Mr Crane, we cannot delay! Alice is hiding! I haven't the slightest idea why!"

You slowly climbed out of the cupboard to see Batman watching you from the opposite building. He nodded to you, giving you the signal to get out. If Jervis follows you. It's a success but don't let anyone catch you. You nodded back before slowly opening the door. You quietly moved for the stairs that went downstairs but your blood ran cold when you found both Jonathan and Jervis down the hall in front of you, the stairs being to your right.

Jervis lit up in glee once again and you stood in complete fest, both Jonathan and Jervis staring at you. You should have made a run for it. You were internally screaming at yourself to move, but you didn't paralysed under their gazes. "Do you see Mr Crane!? Alice is here!" Jonathan's faces changed to a sinister smirk. "I do see Jervis." He responded as though talking to a child. You had to do something and fast. Words tumbled out before you could stop them. "Hatter, you didn't comply with the Red Queens demands." Jervis looked surprised, whether it was because you spoke or because of your statement, you couldn't be sure. "Demands!?" Jervis echoed in surprise. "Whatever do you mean, Alice!?" "The Red Queen ordered that you came alone, Hatter. It's a very important matter!" You responded. "I do not recall!" Whilst fear remained etched upon your features, you willed yourself to look more disappointed. "Now I have to go. Back to wonderland, I must go." Your hands moved to your neck. "The queen will have my head...I believe so." Jonathan chuckled marching forward. "Come with me Jervis, back to Wonderland. It's become quite strange." You said before sprinting for the stairs.

Within seconds Jervis and Scarecrow were outside the building, just in time to see you fall to the ground with a screech as Batman landed inches away from you. By the time you had unshielded your face, the two were out cold. You weren't sure what Batman had done to put them unconscious but you had no time to act as the GCPD, filed into the building guns at the ready but remaining quiet. "Floor three." You told Commissioner Gordon who led you into a police car. You moved for the make up wipes Gordon had kept for you, exhaustion overtaking you. Gordon, however, stopped you. "Sorry, (Y/N), I'm afraid you're not done yet. We'll need you to keep going in Arkham." "For what?" You asked. "Just trust us, it's Batman's idea. It won't be too long." You sighed. Almost immediately when you were asked to change into your next outfit. However you were exhausted. How did anyone, hero or villains do this almost every night? How did the Arkham staff deal with the criminally insane day in and out?

“Imbeciles!” Edward spat in annoyance. “Where were you!?” “Shut. Up.” Jonathan groaned rubbing his aching head. “The batman attacked us and we had an intruder. It turns out ‘Alice’ was very much real.” “What?” Two-Face grumbled. “We had company.” Jonathan replied gruffly. “Unbelievable!” Edward huffed. “Alice...” Jervis said weepily to himself. “Welcome back!” The Joker cried out before letting out a maniacal laugh. “Shut it, clown!” Two-Face snapped. “That was quick.” Someone else said, it sounded like it could have been Penguin.

With a series of buzzing the doors opened. Jervis' eyes widened as you came in. His Alice, you were still here! You were dressed in a nurses uniform, moving to his cell and stopping before the door. "Alice!" You shifted your weight uncomfortable as Jervis clambered to his feet, hands pressed against the cell door. "Alice! You're here!" "That's not Alice, you moron!" Edward snapped in annoyance from behind you. "That's the same person from back at the building. Jervis saw them." Jonathan smirked. "Well what the hell are they doing here!? Here to gloat!?" Edward said icily in response. "Alice-!" "Jervis." Jonathan interrupted with a firm tone. "That isn't Alice. They're fooling you. They're pretending." "We're all mad here." You said simply as though it would have made sense for a response. However Jervis seemed to believe it. "No, Mr Crane! I assure you! I know! I know! It's my dear Alice who has come to say hello!" "He's so stupid." Edward said to himself. Jervis looked around you, eyes narrowing on Edward. "There's no need to be rude! That's not the right attitude!" "Hatter?" You gained his attention once more. "You're my friend aren't you?" "A friend, a friend! A friend until the end!" "The Red Queen demands answers. It'll be off with my head if I don't have her answers." You continued. "I need to know what you were doing there...with them." "Don't tell them!" Edward said sharply. "It's a lie." Jonathan warned Jervis. Even Jervis looked uncertain so you tried harder. "Hatter." You reached out between the bars grabbing hold of his arm.

Jervis looked stunned and even you froze when you realised what you had done. "Hatter, I've trusted you since I met you. I need you to trust me." "Working for the Red Queen is trouble, dear Alice. This is what happens when you're without me." Jervis said, any childlike tones in his voice were long gone. You nodded. "When you're better, you'll be back. Until then...it's only for a little while. So please...please tell me, what your plan was?" "Jervis!" Jonathan snapped but Jervis didn't acknowledge him. "Mr Crane needed test subjects to test his new formula-" "Shut up!" Edward yelled. "Damn it to hell!" Jonathan seethed. "We're planning something big Alice. Perhaps after that, we can free you from the Red Queen!" Jervis finished. You nodded, pressing him to keep going. "Alice? Why did the Red Queen choose you?" It was fake, that you couldn't forget but you couldn't help but wonder the same thing. More specifically, why did the Batman choose you? You took a moment to respond. "For the same reason, a Raven is like a Writing desk." You said softly. "I haven't the faintest idea." You whispered.

"Do you enjoy playing mind games with someone who is mentally ill?" Jonathan, now sounding significantly more contained, asked you. You didn't look at him but he continued. "Or perhaps you won't be able to sleep tonight?" He was trying to guilt trip you. That you knew, you also knew it was working. You checked the pocket watch you had been given before stuffing it back in your pocket. Five minutes were up. You were out of time. "Gotta go." You said quietly. "Where?" Jervis looked alarmed. "I had to speak to you but I was only given so much time. Now it's time to go back to Wonderland." You gave him a small smile, turning on your heel and leaving. You felt Jervis' eyes on your back the entire time, until you were out of sight.

#batman #gotham #batman villains #Jervis Tetch #the mad hatter #reader #one shot #oneshot

63 notes · View notes

tiny-smallest · 3 years

Text

day one - pride

Rating: G Characters: Henry and Bendy Warnings: none Description: Henry reflects on the definition of labels and belonging in certain spaces.

Also on AO3!

---

WHO'S READY FOR THE INK DEMONTH 2021 I SURE ONCE AGAIN TOTALLY WAS YEP DEFINITELY NO LAST MINUTE ANYTHING HERE LET'S GO

Doing writing prompts again because this year has been A Lifetime and I just don't possess the ability to draw this time so let's go let's get stupid get weird enjoy the misadventures of a specific au of of Bendy and the Ink Machine where the toons are their own people in a world they still don't entirely understand and the people who love them who try to help them navigate it.

---

Henry was used to a surprising amount of things to interrupt his day first thing in the morning. Easily numbered in the hundreds. His children were toons; there was no end to the amount of crazy nonsense that they could get into when he was asleep, and that was disregarding the fact that Bendy usually slept until noon.

Sure, he was the Troublemaker In Chief. That did not mean the other two were paragons of holiness, no matter how much Alice tried glowing her halo at him while she and her brother gave him the saddest, biggest, shiniest puppy eyes. And that didn't even take into account how much trouble they could find, no mischief intended.

He'd seen smoldering breakfasts, pancakes on the ceiling, saran wrap around the kitchen archway, demonic rubber chicken noises from a saxophone that had a part replaced with the noisemaker from the novelty prank toy...

(He still didn't regret letting Boris chase Bendy for that one without intervening.)

With all that, being immediately accosted by three toons hanging off his legs the second he came down the stairs and all trying to talk to him at the same time did not magically get any easier to withstand.

"Whatever it is, it's a no until I get my coffee," he drawled as he attempted to walk with them hanging off him, the three of them dragged along with him. It was with quite some difficulty that he got to the kitchen counter.

"But Henry!" Bendy whined, "we only got a few hours to get ready if ya say yes! We need every second!"

"For what?" he yawned, pouring a cup from the machine.

"You don't know what day it is?" Alice was surprised enough to actually let go, and she dusted herself off like the lady she was before standing up.

Instantly something cold grabbed Henry's heart and squeezed. "Uh- no I...?"

Had he forgotten someone's birthday? No, it was summertime; Bendy was a winter 'birth' and Boris and Alice were spring and fall. An anniversary of some kind? Quick think what are you forgetting you useless-

"How!?" Bendy gaped at him from down below. "It's been all over the news fer weeks!"

Well okay now he was just thoroughly confused. "I um-"

"The parade, Henry!" Boris's tail was thumping gently against the floor; he was not trying one tiny ounce to hide his eagerness. "The parade that's today!"

"Parade-?" It took just one more nanosecond of thought before it clicked.

"Oh you mean the-!" And they wanted to go to it.

Well, he shouldn't be surprised. This would be the first parade they'd get to see, wouldn't it? And it was nice weather out. And it would be bursting with color, which the toons were darn near obsessed with.

He took a contemplative sip. They weren't human; god even knew if they had any sort of sexuality at all. Could they even feel that stuff? The urge to- do anything like that? Wouldn't that technically make them asexual? That was the word, right?

Well, human or not, that would solidly mean they belonged there. Queer was queer, regardless of species, right? Hell, even if they'd just started asking themselves those questions, or wanted to support the fans of theirs who fell under that giant umbrella, they were valid for being there.

"Sure, I can take you."

Both boys cheered, lifting their arms to do so and releasing his legs. He quickly took a step away from them, but their joy had them leaping to their feet anyway and he watched as they bounced around the kitchen, slowly draining his coffee and trying to curb his smile when he was actively drinking.

It was a hard task.

Their excited chatter melted pleasantly into the background as he took the time to drink and try to shake his brain awake the rest of the way awake like shaking out an old blanket to coax out the wrinkles. Their enthusiasm always made for the perfect background noise.

"What colors do you want?"

"I dunno! There's so many! I don' even know what label I fit in-"

"I saw you checkin' out that guy the other day don't think I didn't!" The wink and nudge from Bendy sent Boris blushing so hard the poor wolf's face turned nearly as black as his fur.

"I was hopin' you hadn't-"

They were all quick to consume breakfast, and Henry retreated upstairs after telling the toons to come get him when they wanted to leave.

He settled comfortably in the limitless, timeless space of art before reality came knocking with Bendy's distinctive tapping at the door, pulling Henry from the space inbetween something and nothing as he set his pen aside. "Come in, kiddo."

When Bendy stepped in with what was unmistakably a rainbow flag on his cheek and extra face paint he knew he was in for a time.

"Oh uh- what's that for-"

"For you!" Bendy said with a giant grin. "Who'd ya think?"

He rubbed the back of his neck. "Ah well- I uh-"

Bendy didn't slow down. "Anyway the others are about ready to go but they sent me up here to get your flag on while they finish up- now why they trusted me with the paint I got about as much an idea as you but hey I'm not gonna complain-"

"Aw that's- that's sweet kiddo but I sorta figured I'd just be-" How to say this. "Dropping you off...?"

Immediate confusion. "What? Why?"

"Uh well- I mean-" He fiddled with the pen- when had that ended up back in his hands? "You guys- you have a space there, you know? I'm not sure if I-"

There was now a puckered frown on the little devil's face. "Not sure if you what?"

"Well I mean- I don't exactly- belong, now do I?"

The frown multiplied its intensity by about five. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Aw jeez. He really did not want to discuss this with his kid, as much of an adult as Bendy was. For many reasons. "Uh well- you know-" He gestured, as if hoping that would somehow pluck the answer from the air and implant it in Bendy's brain without having to give voice to it, setting the pen down in the process so he’d stop playing with it. "I'm not exactly- I mean-"

"You like guys." Bendy's voice was so sure that Henry knew making any sort of denial was futile. And also kind of stupid. Why would he deny that to his own son? No of course he wouldn't.

"Well I mean- I married a woman, didn't I?" he finally blurted out.

Unimpressed blinking as he drew closer to stand beside the desk. "Yeah they got a word for that. Several actually. Most popular ones are bi and pan, so which colors is it gonna be?"

"No no I mean-" God he was probably blushing. His face definitely felt way too hot. "I uh- I mean I- I like guys, yes-" great brain thanks a ton totally needed that heart rate spiking why are you acting like that's scary this is our kid- "but I- I married a woman- I like women- more often?"

The blinking was now confused.

"Uh-" How to phrase this. "If- if we split it into a pie chart- it's probably like... thirty-seventy in favor of women?" He ran his fingers through his hair and down the back of his neck again. "I'm- not that I'm any great catch but like, if I was in any way qualified to be in the dating pool again, I'd be way more likely to end up with a lady."

The unimpressed look was back. "And?"

It was Henry's look to be surprised. "And- and that means that, you know- I'm not really-"

"You like guys."

"I- yeah?"

"And you're a guy."

"Kind of a given at this point."

"So you're a guy, and you like guys, and just also happen to like girls too. We got names for that." He gave Henry's shirt an appraising look. "Gotta say the bi colors would complement your clothes best. If you want pan colors I'm gonna have to ask you to change. As your official fashion consultant."

Henry snorted. "My what?"

"Listen Dad I love you but I ain't about to let you walk into that parade wearing like, a pineapple hawaiian shirt or nothin'."

Henry banged a fist lightly on the table and pointed at him. "Liar! You wore the exact same thing just the other day!"

"Yeah but that was to the beach, not a parade."

"Literally when have you ever cared about not being a fashion disaster."

"This time, when Alice'll actually kill me otherwise."

"... Okay you got me there."

Bendy grinned. "So, bi colors or pan colors! Or somethin' else? I think there's other ones too."

He opened his mouth, closed it again and then opened it. What the hell. "... Bi colors, I guess."

"Yesssssss I was hopin' you'd say that." He hopped over onto the table like he'd suddenly become a bunny.

"Oh you were, huh?"

"Listen, the pan folks got pretty colors, but I'm always a sucker for a sunset," he said as he pulled out the pallet he needed. Henry sighed and shook his head, the smile ruining his effort to look exasperated.

"Well. Sunset me then, I guess."

"You got it boss!" Bendy said in maybe the worst mafia minion accent known to mankind.

It was barely five minutes of Bendy painting lines carefully on his cheek before he whipped out a mirror.

"Tah-dah!"

Henry blinked at himself in the mirror. He tilted his head, something shifting inside his heart that he had no name for, no way to voice.

The once proud look on Bendy's face was swiftly dropping. "... I didn't mess it up, did I...?"

"No- no, no." Henry tilted his head. "I uh..."

Bendy's worried browlines screamed anxiety to him.

"... I guess I just look good in a sunset," he said quietly, seeing the little corner of his reflection's mouth turn up as if in some sort of hazy dream.

Better than I thought.

#bendy and the ink machine #the ink demonth #batim bendy #batim henry #batim boris #batim alice angel #henry stein #batim henry stein #strike up the band au #my writing

18 notes · View notes

leyton3tla · 3 years

Text

Obsession, a Twilight fanfic

It wasn’t my alarm that pulled me from my sleep the next morning, but rather a hell of a ruckus whose source was abnormally close to my right ear. When I opened my eyes, I saw a little brunette thing tampering within her closet, throwing various t-shirts, skirts, dresses, pants and sweatshirts here and there while singing or rather bellowing the lyrics of a song I wasn’t familiar with. It took me a few second to remember who it was and where I was. Oh yeah. My new roommate, Alice. My room. Seattle. College. The day before the start of classes. Declaring that I had not slept enough, I wrapped myself in my quilt and turned on the other side of the bed, burying my head under the pillow to dull the suffering Alice’s bellowing caused me. Unfortunately, my moving did not escape the young lady’s notice. “Bella, are you awake?” All she got for a response was a groan, which made her burst into crystalline laughter. “Looks like my new roommate is a crazy one.” She remarked, taking away my pillow. I snatched it from her hands and put it back in its place. “Well, it also looks like you’re in a bad mood this morning…” I muttered that it was her horrible way of singing that was putting me in a bad mood. “What? Bella, I can’t hear anything you’re saying with that pillow over your head!” she replied, trying once again to take the white cloth from me. I held on to it like a baby to his blanket. God, I hated it when people tried to get me out of bed in the morning! If they were here, Jasper and Rose would have told her that all her efforts were in vain. “Ok, as you wish.” Oh, finally, she abdicated! I was finally going to be left alone and drift back to… “But just so you know, it is 11, and class registration begins at 11:30…” 11?? How could I have slept so long? I jumped out of bed and put on the first items of clothing I could find – that is to say sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt with holes in it. Too bad for the shower. If I showed up too late for class registration, God only knew what courses would be left: physical education. And if there was one thing I hated above all else, it was exercising… The reason was simple: I was the least coordinated being on earth. I could barely walk three meters without getting my feet caught in something, so to try practicing a sport for credit and hope to pass was definitely mission impossible! Although I had to skip the shower, there was no way I was neglecting my oral hygiene. There was nothing worse than speaking to someone with morning breath… I rushed into the bathroom, put my toothbrush in my mouth and brushed frenetically. I then heard someone knocking at the door, which Alice didn’t seem to notice what with her “singing” with the stereo volume set to its maximum. I started to hail her, which turned out to be ineffective because of the big white foam coming out of my mouth. Furious and disheveled, I rushed to the door and threw it open. What I saw stunned me so much, my jaw dropped, allowing an infamous drop of foam to land on my t-shirt. It was just the final touch that my improbable look of the day needed. Perfect. I looked like an actual tramp whereas the person standing in front of me was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen… “Um, hi… Is – Is Alice here?” Oh. My. God. Was it possible to have such a voice? He sounded like velvet… Who was this? I must have remained a moment without saying anything because the young man called me again. “Miss?” Damn it, say something, Bella! “Wooo…” Nooo, Bella! You have the mouth full of toothpaste! I thus nodded my head yes, which made the Adonis smile. I almost fainted when I saw the row of perfect white teeth he unveiled. Not to mention his eyes that were of such a deep shade of green that I almost lost myself in them for a moment. “Edward!” Alice yelled behind me.

For more, head to https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13886781/1/Obsession

#bella x edward #twilight #twilight fanfiction #edward x bella #edward cullen #bella swan #alice cullen #my writing #give it a shot

8 notes · View notes

romeoandjulietyouwish · 4 years

Text

Never Alone

Here it is, the fic I sobbed while writing. Some context about my relationship to this fic and why I wrote it: I myself am a twin and a few nights ago I had a nightmare where I was in an alternate reality where I wasn’t a twin and my sister didn’t exist and it just made me so sad and scared for the future where I may have to live without my sister. So, enjoy Lis projecting onto Penny.

Read on ao3

It’s been hard for Peter and Penny. After losing both of their parents and their uncle it’s safe to say that their lives are more difficult than some. When Tony came into their lives, it provided a comforting amount of financial stability (though all three Parkers refused the aid at first) as well as a sort of safety net for the twins and another place they felt at home.

When Peter got a call from his aunt’s work at 8 pm on a Wednesday night, he doesn’t know what he expected. But it certainly wasn’t them telling him that his last living relative’s heart stopped in the middle of her shift and all attempts to resuscitate her failed. In other words: the only person left for the twins is dead.

Penny walked into the room just in time to see Peter’s face go deathly pale and the phone drop from his hand and she rushed to catch him before he collapsed.

They spent that night sobbing into each other’s arms on the couch, both too distraught to even entertain the idea of going to the hospital and saying a proper goodbye to their aunt. The next week was a blur and by Friday Peter and Penny were moving into Stark Tower. Despite Tony’s offers, they opted to share a room (at least for the first few weeks), neither of them able to stomach the thought of being alone. All Peter can do is pray to whatever God is up there and thank them for not leaving them alone, for giving them somewhere safe to live.

Peter wakes up to his sister’s sobs. His eyes fly open and he turns to look at the bed across from him where Penny should be asleep. But Penny is sitting up, hunched over herself crying. In the soft moonlight, Peter can see that her arms are wrapped her arms around herself in an attempt to self soothe.

Peter is out of bed in an instant. He throws off his blankets, hurrying across the room to sit on his sister’s bed and pulling her into his arms. Penny clings tightly to Peter and slumps in his grasp. Her fingers are knotted into his t-shirt as she sobs.

“Shh...” Peter whispers. “It’s okay. I’m right here. We’re okay.” Peter has no idea what could have Penny so upset, and he hates it. Not that he’s annoyed with her for being sad, he just wishes he could make it go away. He settles to just hold her tight.

Eventually Penny’s tears subside and she leans back, letting Peter’s arms fall away, wiping away her tears with the palms of her hands. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “You can go back to sleep.”

Peter shakes his head, as if, “What happened?”

Penny shrugs and looks down at her hands, “It was just a nightmare.”

“A pretty bad one,” Peter acknowledges. Out of the two of them, Penny hardly gets nightmares, much less ones that have her this upset.

“Yeah,” Penny agrees. She sighs, “I-I was alone and I couldn’t find you and every time I went up to someone to ask where you were they all thought I was crazy and kept telling me that I didn’t have a brother and that you didn’t exist.” Penny shakes her head, “It was so...awful. I-I can’t be alone, Peter. We keep losing people, and I can’t lose you too.” She shrugs sadly after a moment, “I guess it got me thinking that someday...I’m going to have to live in a world where I don’t have a brother, where I can’t rant to you about everything that happened in my day, or I can’t demand you watch my favorite shows and get just as obsessed as me, or that you might not-” Penny cuts herself off with a sob. Peter takes her hand and squeezes. Penny shakes her head, “Someday I’m going to be all alone and-and I don’t know if I can deal with that.”

Peter quickly hugs Peter tightly as sobs wrack her body once more, “You’re always going to have me,” Peter tells her. “Whether I’m with you or not, I’m always going to be here for you. I swear, Pen, you will never be alone.”

“You can’t promise that,” Penny hiccups. “You put yourself in so much danger every single day, you can’t promise to never leave me.”

“I know,” Peter rubs her back. “But I can promise that no matter what I will still be your brother and even if I’m gone I will still have your back and be right here for you.”

“So you’re going to haunt me?” Penny laughs, wiping away her tears.

“If that’s what it takes,” Peter smiles. “I will be such an annoying ghost, I’m going to eat all your snacks and hide your phone chargers.”

Penny laughs and Peter feels the tightness in the room lift at that sound. “You okay?” Peter asks, squeezing his sister’s hand.

Penny nods, “Thank you.”

“What brothers are for,” Peter smiles at her. “Try to go back to sleep, yeah?” Penny nods and as Peter goes back to his own bed someone lightly raps on the door and it swings open.

Tony leans in, looking between the twins, “You guys okay? I thought I heard voices.”

“We’re okay,” Penny tells him. Her voice is still a little hoarse from crying.

Tony gives them a soft smile and gives them each a kiss on the head before saying, “Go back to sleep, I’ll see you in the morning.” Tony softly shuts the door and the twins snuggle down into their beds.

Before Peter closes his eyes once more, he takes another look at Penny and he silently promises her that no matter what he will fight through heaven and earth to make sure she never has to be alone.

Tag List: @gasplaughgasp @canonismybitch @shadedrose01 @baloobird @whatisawilltolive @a-liddell-alice @you-know-i-larb-you-3000 @hold-our-destiny @lyssismagical @spideygirl2003 @make-the-stars-stay

#my fic #peter parker #female peter parker #tony stark #spiderman #iron man #spiderson #spiderson fic #irondad #irondad fic #irondad and spiderson #nightmares

87 notes · View notes

go--ask--alice · 3 years

Text

Exordium

It Started With a Kiss

[Author’s Note: The next three posts will be a continuation of a single event. They take place over the course of one night. It’s been broken up into three smaller parts.]

This is Alice and The Joker’s very first encounter. She had devised an intricate plan to sneak into The Grin & Bare It and come face to face with the man she’d been obsessed with for most of her adult life. After entering the club and making her way to a back storage room, she quietly snuck up to the area she knew J’s office resided. Everything almost ended before it began when a guard came upon her near the stairs. Alice played the “lost little girl” card and managed to get away from the guard with just a stern warning. When she finally found the correct door she was shocked to find it partially open. Peaking inside she found him. The Joker, sitting at the private bar, with his back to her. Summoning all her courage, she quietly stepped inside and laid a soft kiss to his pale cheek. Time seemed to stop as she waited for him to react. This was the moment that would ultimately seal her fate. She just didn’t know yet which direction it would lead her.

🃏 Joker

👑 Alice

------------

💋

🃏 *Turns to see where the kiss came from with a stern face* To whom do I owe the pleasure of this… little peck?

👑 *Jumps back a bit and extends a hand tentatively.* That would be me Sir.. it’s a pleasure to meet you, sorry for invading your personal space so boldly. I.. well I just couldn’t help myself. *Turns a deep shade of red at being so bold.*

🃏 *Looks around to see if you came with any goons or companions.* So… *snarky tone* is it just you? Or do you have some friends waiting in the wings. *I clutch my cane as I look you up and down curiously*

👑 No.. no Sir. Just me.. is that alright? I hope I’m not getting anyone in trouble by being here? *Turns around to the door.* Well it was open and I knew you’d be in here, I just couldn't resist getting a glimpse of you.

🃏 *I smirk. I love having my ego stroked* And how did you just know I’d be in here? Why are you such a fan of the Clown Prince? I don’t exactly have a traditional fan club. One might think you’re a little… mad. *Walks around you slowly taking you in.*

👑 *I turn my head to follow as you move around me.* Well people talk. I just happen to pay attention to what they say, or sometimes more importantly what they choose not to say. *I stand a little taller.* And I wouldn’t call myself a traditional person. I like to seek out the strange and different. You Mr. J, have both those qualities in abundance. It’s very… appealing. *I give you a wink as you pass infront of me agian.*

🃏 Well aren’t you a brave little chatter box. *Cackles* Flattery will get you everyhere *Pins you to the bar but then reaches behind you for a glass and starts pouring a drink* How rude of me! Can I get you something?

👑 My apologies.. I tend to ramble on when I’m nervous. *My heart rate spikes as you pin me. You’re so very close.* Umm.. a drink? *My brain goes a bit fuzzy.* Something sweet? You pick Sir, dealers choice.

🃏 *So many dangerous concoctions come to mind but I contain my eagerness.* Do you like cherries? *We only have scotch at this bar. I’m the only one who drinks back here. It’s a private space so I decide that if you like cherries I’ll have to throw something sweet together for you using it.*

👑 Oh I love cherry! But please nothing too strong. I’m not much of a drinker.

🃏 How about a “blood and sand”? *I start mixing it in front of you licking my metal teeth* I’ll go easy on the scotch… what was your name?

👑 Hmm interesting, that sounds delicious! *I try to concentrate on watching you mix the drink but my eyes are glued to your mouth, your tongue sneaking out makes my knees go a little weak* Oh goodness! That is so rude of me! *I extended a hand.* Malice, well.. Alice really. But Malice just sounds so much more, I don’t know? Intriguing.

🃏 Well which is it doll face? *Chuckles* Or do you have split personalities? *Licks liquor off fingers and hands you the drink.*

👑 Well it’s really up to you I guess. But Alice is just fine. *I’m staring at your mouth again as I take the glass from your hand, my fingers barely grazing yours.* Looks delicious! *I take a small sip.* And tastes even better. Thank you!

🃏 Up to me? *Chuckles* We just met and I’m already making decisions for you? You want to know what I think? I think you have very, very good manners. And that part is Alice I don’t think I’ve met Malice just yet. *Cackles*

👑 *I raise my glass to you.* That Mr. J, is a very wise observation.

🃏 So… maybe I should call you Miss Manners instead. *Picks up your hand and kisses it.*

👑 That’s sweet, but really Alice is just fine. *A giggle escapes my mouth as you kiss my hand. I hold my breath, not wanting you to let go.*

🃏 Ok Alice it is. You can call me Mr. J if you like. *Snarls as I notice a henchmen walking by.* Excuse me. It’s hard to find good help these days. *Walks over to the henchmen laughing. As he laughs back I stab him in the neck with a pen and watch as he wriggles around spurting blood onto my shirt and pants. I walk back in removing my shirt.* Sorry about that little… interruption. Now where we’re we?

👑 *I nod, mouth hanging open.* Mr. J it is then. *I swallow hard as you growl at the passing henchman. Hoping he’s not the one to blame for me wandering into your private room.* I’m not actually interrupting anything am I?? *I back up til the bar hits my back.*

🃏 Ohhhhhhhh no no no not at all! *I start wringing my shirt out over the sink.* This is going to stain! *Growls* So… Miss Alice. *Removes pants and shoes and walks to a skinny closet removing another shirt and pants.* Tell me a little bit about yourself.

👑 Oh Mr. J you need to get those clothes into cold water if you want any chance of getting those stains out! Me? Hmm what’s there to really say? *Tries desperately not to stare as you undress infront of me.* There isn’t much of any interest about me, especially compared to someone like yourself.

🃏 I find that hard to believe. *Stares at you.* Do you happen to be good with getting stains out? I must say that I try to be careful but sometimes…

👑 Well I’m honestly a bit of a home body. I love to read. I’m good with my hands. *I step up to the sink next to you.* And yeah, you need to soak those is cold water and wash them immediately or they’ll be ruined!

🃏 *Watches you as you approach the sink. My hands start to tremble as the water turns on and you submerge the clothes underneath.* Good with your hands? Please…elaborate.

👑 *I let out an honest laugh.* Well I like to make things. I enjoying cooking, fixing things. I have an eye for detail. Ofcourse there is a whole other list of things I enjoy doing with my hands, but I don’t know if I should be so bold? Atleast not just yet. *I smile up at you.* Have any kind of soap back here?? You need to treat these stains fast or they’ll set.

🃏 *My mind is spinning, you may prove useful if I can trust you. I have been needing a woman’s touch around here although I will never admit it. I have been eating take out every day for the past month. I have been throwing clothing away and holding houses of couture hostage for replacements. Now if you could do laundry that would save me having to hold designers at gunpoint* I think we have something. *Sets dish soap in front of you.* How’s that? *Leans in to watch you work.*

👑 Hmm it’ll have to work.. *I squeeze the soap onto as many of the stains as I can, working it into a good lather.* Alright, you need to let this sit for a little while then it must be washed right away. I still can’t promise the stains will come all the way out. *I can feel you leaning over my shoulder, it makes me break out in goosebumps having you so very close.*

🃏 Are you cold? *I lean in closer* You have goosebumps. *I trail my finger over your arm and smile.*

👑 No.. not at all. I’m actually rather warm. *I can feel the blush creep up my neck. Just feeling your fingers trail over my skin is burning me up.*

🃏 *I turn my head into you slightly as I notice you flush. I can see that I’m having an affect on you and it makes me snarl. I’m like a tiger with prey in my sight.*

👑 *Hearing you snarl behind me is almost more than I can handle. I feel my knees buckle and I push away from the sink to give myself a moment to breathe. I’m practically panting as I try to avoid your piercing gaze.*

🃏 Say! Since you waltzed in here like a curious kitten. How would you like to stay a while? I need someone who can prove useful to me and I don’t know why, but I like you. *Points a finger shaking it like mad and laughing. My laugh becomes a devious cackle.*

👑 *The shock must be written on my face.* You want me? To stay? Mr. J, I don’t know what to say!! *A huge grin spreads across my face, my eyes alight.*

🃏 Well… don’t just stand there woman. *Growls* Make yourself useful. *Turns back and grins.*

👑 *I jump at your command* Umm what would you like me to do sir? I’m afraid I don’t really know my way around here too well. Would you give me a tour? *I put on the puppy eyes for you, hoping it will illicit another touch from you. I’m hopeful but I don’t want to press my luck.*

🃏 *Looks at watch and then back at you.* I’m a bit short on time doll. This will have to be quick. *Grabs your wrist and pulls you into the club.* This is The Grin & Bare It, pretty self explanatory no? *Squeezes your hand a little.*

👑 *Nods, taking in all the lights and sounds. I squeeze your hand back on reflex.*

🃏 *Pulls you roughly into the back office.* This is my office. *I lean on a large heavy wooden desk.* I come here to get a full view of the club. *Points to surveillance cameras.*

👑 *You practically drag me back through the door. I step around the desk to stand next to you, the cameras are all busy with movement.* Wow, that’s a lot of people… how do you manage this whole thing? You don’t do it alone, do you?? *I lean into one of the monitors, transfixed by the dancers swaying to the music.*

🃏 *I decide I’ve got a little more time when you show interest in the operations. My ego is swelling again as you mention the management of the club and the implication that it’s difficult.* You know it’s something I just take pride in. *Leans in to look with you making an insane face.* It’s quite the operation, but I believe that good employees should be rewarded, and I get rid of my bottom 10% monthly. I make sure they get a nice… “severance package” Ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!!

👑 So, was Mr. Bloodstain in the bottom 10% this month??

🃏 Precisely - you catch on quick Alice! *Grins and points to dancer in a cage* See that? They are a handful, always getting greedy, always developing…. problematic inclinations. But they are a necessary element. They entertain the sort of characters this club attracts. Thoughts?

�� *I eye the dancers up, I feel a pang of something in my gut. Not jealous, but envy maybe that they are able to catch your eye. Even if it’s fleeting and problematic.* They seem very popular. Definetly a nessacary evil I suppose. So Mr. J when you asked me to stay, did you mean here exclusively? And how much time do you spend on the premises?

🃏 *Stares at you intensely.* Well I don’t want to… hold you against your will. I’d like it if you became key staff, with me. Of course I understand if that doesn’t work for you.

👑 Oh no! You misunderstand me! I want to stay! I was just curious.. *I turn away, knowing I’m turning red again.* I guess I was just wondering how much time I might get to spend well, with you?

🃏 You want to spend time with me? *Grins* Well. That. Is. A. First!

👑 Well silly, you are whole reason I snuck myself back to your private bar. *I catch myself from rolling my eyes at you.*

🃏 Did you just call me… silly??

👑 Just with all those pretty girls out there, I didn’t think you’d want to spend any time with me.

🃏 *Smiles* Well… No one out there has taken blood stains out of my shirt before.

👑 *I blink a few times* Ye-yes Sir I did..

🃏 You are lucky you are so beautiful… you should see that last guy who called me silly. *Cackles and pulls out a switchblade.*

👑 I hope I’m not overstepping any lines with you Mr. J.. *I lean up onto my tiptoes.* But I find you to be incredibly beautiful.. *I give you a small kiss on the cheek.* ..in a very powerful, masculine, dangerous way of course! *I give you a wink.*

🃏 *A fire burns inside me when you kiss my cheek. It’s so hot that I roll my neck back and purr. I grab your hand and pull you to the stairs and down to the garage.*

👑 *As you drag me behind you I blurt out.* Oh god.. I’m so so sorry.. I shouldn’t have done that…

🃏 *Drags you without saying anything, walking with purpose.*

👑 *I almost try to pull away, but you turn and the look in your eyes makes me have to catch my breath, it’s feral and dangerous.*

🃏 This is my car. *Points to purple lamborghi.* Get in. *Still staring at you with my chest heaving.* Don’t make me say it twice.

👑 *I hastily climb into the passenger side and sit. I nervously buckle myself in, still so unsure of your intentions.*

🃏 *I lean over your body and check to make sure you buckled yourself in correctly and then stop to hover over you with my lips inches from yours.*

👑 *I can’t even think straight with your mouth so very close to mine, the urge to lean forward and really kiss you is so strong.*

🃏 *I pull the lap belt tight and grin.* Can’t have you falling out. *And with that I peel out.* We are headed to my humble abode so I can complete the tour you so graciously asked for.

👑 *I giggle* Well aren’t you the full service type! I like that in a man.

🃏 I think we are going to get along Alice…*Looks you up and down as I park then opens your door.*

👑 Oh I sure hope so Mr. J. *I met your hungry stare, positive that you’re seeing the same look on my face.*

🃏 *Takes your hand.*

👑 Such a gentleman..

🃏 *Smirks* Welcome to the hideout!! *Massive mansion.* I trust you have discretion?

👑 Oh of course Sir. For my eyes and ears only!

🃏 Mmmm…. indeed *I pull you up the stairs, walk in and drop my blazer onto a chaise lounge.* Are you hungry? Thirsty?

👑 You seem so very eager to get me alone Mr J. *I follow behind you as quickly as I can, trying not to trip up the large staircase.*

🃏 *Snaps at you.* What are you saying? That I’m a common pervert?

👑 Oh never! *I step very close, looking up at you.* There is nothing common about you.. *I reach out and put a shaking hand on your chest.* And I don’t believe you want me to answer that question sir. What I hunger for may shock you.

🃏 You are quite the flirt my sweet. *Clutches your hand.*

👑 Oh you have no idea my dear.. *I raise our clasped hands and place a kiss on your ring.* So you going to show me more of this extravagant home of yours??

🃏 *Hands shaking as you kiss my ring. I want to devour you.* What would you like to see first doll?

👑 You alright Mr J?? You’re shaking a bit..

🃏 How about the living room?

👑 *I think for a moment.* Honestly? The kitchen! I live for those huge old fashion kitchens. I bet yours has every bell and whistle available!

🃏 *Thinks ‘holy shit I hit the jackpot’ and gets excited. I practically carry you into the kitchen.* I haven’t spent any time in here but I think you might like it? *It has every appliance you can think of. I open the fridge and pull out a pie.*

👑 *I’m practically drooling.. it’s honestly embarrassing.* Do you have a butler’s pantry?? *I’m way to excited.*

🃏 Want a piece? Sure - it’s over there. *Points*

👑 Mm what kind is it??

🃏 Blueberry.

👑 *I’m barely paying you any mind as I enter the pantry.* I could do so much with a kitchen like this. I swear it’s bigger than my first apartment!

🃏 *Has a bit of blueberry on my lip.* Great - consider this part of your domain. Don’t burn anything, I hate the smell of burnt anything. *Makes a sour face.*

👑 *I peek my head back out of the doorway* Blueberry? That sounds delicious! Oh.. Sir you seem to have a bit on your lip. *I run my thumb over your bottom lip before licking it clean.* Yup. Definetly delicious.

🃏 *Flinches at first when you touch my lip.* Let me have another taste. *Grabs your thumb and sucks on it.* That is quite good. Think you might like to bake in here?

👑 *I can barely surpress the moan that threatens to escape my throat* What..? *My brain went foggy feeling your lips on my thumb.* Oh yes baking! Absolutely! I could do so much with this kitchen!

🃏 Here… *Hands you a frilly apron.* You should wear this when you are in here. It’s for show. I don’t cook! *Laughs* Except barbecue, that I can do. *Winks*

👑 Heh! For you? Sure I’ll wear it! *I mumble.* ..and I’d very much like to kiss the cook…

🃏 What was that doll?

👑 Huh? Oh nothing.. *I shake my head* How about the slice of pie? I am pretty hungry.

🃏 *Cuts you a slice and passes it to you, then watches as you eat it.*

👑 Hmm Mr. J… Where do you keep your forks? Hah I don’t want to make a mess, you know blueberries stain just as bad as blood!

🃏 You can make a mess if you want. *Grins* They are over there. *Points to drawer.* Wait don’t open that one. The other one.

👑 Oh really? *I drag my finger through the dark purple filling.*Whose gonna clean up that mess? Huh? *I lick my finger clean, then grab two forks from the drawer* You gonna help me eat this?

🃏 *Grabs a fork and eats right out of the middle. I grab you suddenly and then put you up on the counter. I grab pie and smear it on your shirt.* You should take that off before it stains. *Stares at you.*

👑 *I stare at you, dumbfounded.* Well fair is fair.. I’d hate to see you ruin two shirts tonight. But oh well! *Grabs a handful of pie and swears it across your jaw and down your chest.* Looks like you have to take off yours too! *Pulls my top off revealing a dark purple lace bra.* Your move clown..

🃏 Careful Alice. *Looks down at your bra.* That is my absolute favorite color.

👑 Careful what sir? *I use my discarded shirt to wipe a bit of pie off your nose.*

🃏 Careful calling me names. You can call me Mr. J or something more comfortable once I get to know you better. *Takes off shirt letting it drop to the floor.*

👑 I’m sorry Mr. J. It won’t happen again. *I stare unashamedly at your exposed chest.*

🃏 See something of interest?

👑 Hmm yes sir. You. You look good enough to eat. *I bite my bottom lip as I look down your pale muscular body.*

🃏 *I pull your hand to my body and exhale.* So eat if you’re hungry. *Smirks and starts biting the pad of flesh between your wrist and thumb.*

👑 *I use my other hand to pull you closer to me, your body is flush with the counter between my open thighs.* Sir!! That tickles!! *I try to pull my wrist away, but you’ve got me in a death grip.*

🃏 *I dip down and start nibbling your neck.*

👑 Oh god.. *I wrap my hand in your hair and pull you back til we are face to face agian. Panting, I whisper* Mr. J… please, please kiss me…

🃏 *I chuckle.* So very eager Alice, yet so very very polite.

👑 Oh you have no idea…

🃏 *Grabs you by the back of the neck and kisses you.*

👑 *I melt into your kiss, my body feels like jello as your lips move against mine.*

🃏 *I pull back and put my finger under your chin. I kiss the side of your face and your chin.*

👑 *I’m gasping for air as your lips gently brush my skin.* Oh.. oh Mr. J…

🃏 Take a deep breath Alice. *Chuckles*

👑 *I let out a slow exhale and laugh.* Sorry.. I just can’t help it. You do something to me, I can’t think straight when you’re this close to me.

🃏 *Pours you a glass of water.* Drink.

👑 *Takes a small sip.* Thank you. Again, I’m sorry. I just got a little over excited.

🃏 So…. Tell me, did you put that bra on just for me? *Snaps your bra strap.*

👑 That is a very likely possibility. *I jump as you snap my strap.* And you know Mr. J.. this bra is part of a matching set.

🃏 Show me, I want to see those pretty little purple panties.

👑 Oh my Sir.. that is a bold request. *I push you back slightly and hop down from the counter.* You want me to put on a little show for you?

🃏 *Pulls a chair up sitting in it backwards.* Do it *Heavy breathing*

👑 *I take a deep breath.* What have I gotten myself into.. *I mutter mostly to myself. I run my hands down my chest, pausing to brush my finger tips over my hard nipples, the purple lace not leaving much to the imagination. I slowly pop the button on my tight black jeans, with shaky hands I lower the zipper.* Tell me what you want to see Mr. J.. I need to hear you say it.

🃏 *I growl as I watch you touch yourself.* Put on a show for Daddy J. Let’s see those panties.

👑 *I lean forward, resting my arms on the top of the chair your sitting on, I’m almost nose to nose with you.* You wanna be my Daddy, Mr. J?? *I kiss the tip of your nose.*

🃏 *I use my cane to hold you in place* Little fucking tease… *I’m hard now as you hover over me.* I think you need a daddy, don’t you?

👑 *I pull away and stand back up.* Only if you promise to be my Daddy. I wouldn’t want anyone else. *With very calculated moves I inch the tight jeans down my hips, once they are to about my knees I turn away from you and bend over at the waist. I make sure to give you a nice view of my lace clad behind. I wiggle my hips as I stand back up, kicking the jeans off my feet.* Well now what Mr. J?? You seem to have me at a disadvantage in the clothing department.

🃏 *I stand up and make an effort to look at every single inch of you.* Since you asked so nicely. *Removes pants, socks and shoes throwing them over my shoulder as I stare at you. I’m standing in my emerald green silk Gucci boxers.* Miss Malice… it’s so nice to finally meet you.

👑 Mmm well aren’t we quite the matching set? I’d have guessed that was your favorite color.

🃏 *I’m all over you in an instant inhaling the scent of your hair and skin.*

👑 *I wrap my arms around your slender waist.* Oh god.. you feel so good against my body…

🃏 *I start sucking on your neck softly.*

👑 *My nails dig into the flesh on your hips.* Oh fuck Mr. J.. please.. I need you. *I moan openly as your mouth goes to work at my neck.*

🃏 *I suddenly pull back away from you.* I want to know how many times you have thought about this very moment. With my mouth on you, my body pressed up against you, in your pretty bra and panties *I snarl and grab my erection.* How many times did you touch yourself thinking about it?

👑 I’m almost embarrassed to answer that.. *I giggle at the thought.* I’ve thought about your body on mine for so very long. I’ve even dreamt about it. *I run my fingertips along the edge of my panties.* You like the idea of me touching myself while I think about you??

🃏 *I grab a pair of kitchen sheers and walk toward you. I press my cock onto you looking down as it touches the crotch of your panties and then I look up at you and snip both sides of the panties salivating as they fall away from you.* It’s my favorite idea right now.

👑 *I reach forward and run my hand ever so slightly over the obvious bulge in your boxers.* May I touch you sir?

🃏 *I purr and push forward.* Yes you may. Yes you fucking may.

👑 *I run my palm over your hard cock.* I’ve thought about touching you like this so many times Mr. J But it’s so much better than I could have ever imagined. *With my free hand I run a finger along my wet needy pussy, when I pull my hand up between us it glistens in the light with my juices.* If you would care for a taste sir, *I lean in so very close to your ear.* ..then I suggest you show me some more of this beautiful home of yours. Preferably a room with a bed.

🃏 Teasing me again Alice? *I pull your hand towards my mouth and pop your fingers into my mouth* Mmmmm…. My little baker dangling the icing in front of me? *Scoops you up over my shoulder abruptly and carries you up a long spiral staircase up to the master bedroom.*

👑 Oh Mr. J.. I live to tease you. *As you carry me up the stairs I take the opportunity to get an eye full of your tight muscled ass as I hang upside-down over your shoulder.*

#exordium #joker x alice #joker fanfiction #joker x oc #joker #go ask alice #ephemeris #rp 2017 #01 #tw smut #tw blood #tw violence

3 notes · View notes

addictofsupernatural · 5 years

Text

The Southsider (pt. 11)

Sweet Pea x reader

Chapter Summary: The next big step in y/n's life has different chain reactions.

Warning: a bit of NSFW (I put where it starts and ends if you want to skip it)

Word Count: 2677

Chapter 1 • Chapter 10 • Chapter 12

You and Betty had waited for Archie and Veronica to come in his dad's truck. You made a pit stop at the trailer to go get the lingerie, then headed to Betty's house. You and Betty rode in the trunk while Archie and Veronica were inside the truck.

As they dropped the two of you off, they drove off. "They're on their way to go get you an outfit."

"Holy crap, did you guys practice this or something? How are you all so prepared?"

"Because we wanted this day to be special for you." Betty tugged on your hand. "Now let's go, we have makeup to put on."

When she was done you looked in the mirror. You had on dark red lipstick, along with mascara and a small amount of eyeliner. "Okay, I'm here." Veronica said as she walked into the room. "And I brought the perfect outfit."

You slipped into your one piece lingerie, then putting on the black leather crop top with a zipper in the front. You then put on a black skirt. You looked in the mirror. The crop top made the lingerie show, but it looked good with it. Your hair has down, perfectly complementing your face.

You then went downstairs, ignoring Alice's judgments about your outfit. "Your chariot awaits." Veronica said as you stepped onto the back of the truck.

You all got there, and you looked at the bar doors, more nervous than ever. Archie gave you a side hug. "You look good y/n/n. C'mon, let's show Sweet Pea." You smiled at him and walked in with your friends behind you.

Sweet Pea was leaning on the pool table talking to people when he saw the doors open. What he saw was something he wasn't ready for. He stared at you in awe, not knowing how to react. You went up to him and leaned into him, feeling a sense of new found confidence. "Hey baby. You like my outfit?" You asked sweetly.

"Y/n," he breathed out. "You look amazing." He put his hands on your hips as you ran your hands up his chest, standing on your toes to kiss him. He stood down at your lips. "Where's all this coming from?"

You hummed. "Just wanted to do something special for you. You deserve it." You smiled.

He smiled back. "You're perfect." He curled his fingers under your chin, bringing you into a deep kiss.

You chuckled. "I got a little bit of lipstick on you." You ran your thumb over his bottom lip to his the lipstick smudge off. "Sorry."

"Don't be, it only shows everyone how lucky I am." You giggled at his sweet talk. He bit his lip. "So beautiful." He mumbled, more to himself than anyone else.

You were about to kiss again before you heard a voice calling out your name. "Y/n." Toni said, giving you a look.

You nod your head, tapping Sweet Pea's shoulders. "I gotta go do something, but I'll be back in a few minutes."

"Do what?" He was a little frustrated that you slipped out of his arms.

"You'll see." You said as you looked at him and smiled while you walked off.

Fangs had walked up to Sweet Pea, putting him on the back. He knew what you were going to do. He smirked. "You ready?"

"For what?" He then took notice in the three Northsiders inside the Whyte Wrym. He went up to them. "What are you guys doing here?"

"We wouldn't miss y/n's big night." Betty said. "This is very special to her."

Before he could ask anything, Kevin came rushing in. "Hi, sorry I'm a little late. Did I miss it?"

"Nope, she's about to go on." Veronica gave an excited smile.

"What the hell are you all talking about?" Archie simply pointed to the stage.

There you were, looking as gorgeous as ever in Sweet Pea's eyes. Gangsta by Kehlani began to play, and you slowly stripped. When all that was left was your lingerie, you began to dance on the pole beside you. You never lost eye contact with him during the whole dance.

When it was over Jughead stepped onto the stage, putting your mother's jacket over your shoulders. "Let's give it up for y/n, the new serpent!"

Everybody clapped and cheered. You smiled and looked down in bashfulness. You then got off the stage, making your way to Sweet Pea, but being blocked by your friends. "Oh, my God. I am literally obsessed with all of that." Kevin said.

Toni handed you your clothes, and you quickly slipped them back on. Veronica went through her purse, taking out a makeup wipe. "Here you go." You took it with a confused look on you. "You'll have to get rid of that for what comes next. Trust me."

She winked at you, to which you were still confused as to why. Yet you still wiped off the makeup, knowing that she really did mean something. "Well," Fangs said, tapping you on the shoulder. "What comes next is heading your way."

- smut starts -

You turned to see Sweet Pea with a serious face on. "Hey-" he cut you off by grabbing your wrist and pulling you out of the bar. "Pea, is something wro-"

He cut you off with a kiss. This time, his hands rummaged your body. As you shifted you felt a tint in his pants brush against your pelvis, causing a moan to escape him. "Pea." You breathed out.

His lips then went down to your neck. "Let's go to my trailer, y/n/n."

"Sweets." You let out a small moan.

"I want this day to be special." He then brought his head back to look at you. "Let me make you feel good."

You only nodded your head, feeling in a daze. He took your hands and walked backwards to his bike, gently smiling at you. He couldn't think of anyone else he would want to be this close to him. You were special. You deserved a special night.

You wrapped your arms around him as you got on the bike, gasping at the feeling from sitting on the seat. You never felt this feeling before. The feeling of wanting someone this badly.

You got to his trailer and went inside. As soon as that door shut, his hands were on you. He slid your jacket off, tossing it on the table and backing you up until your back hit the counter. He wrapped his arms around your thighs, hoisting you up.

He brought his hands to your face, bringing you in for a needy kiss. He placed himself in between your legs, moaning into your mouth as the bulge in his pants rubbed against your core, which also released a small whine from you.

His hands left your cheeks as you pushed off his flannel. You broke the kiss for a second as you lifted his shirt, running your hands down his muscular upper half. As you both hungrily kissed each other, you stripped off your clothing, leaving you in your lingerie and Sweet Pea in unbuckled pants.

"Bed." You managed to say. He picked you up, igniting a giggle from you. You were more than happy to let Sweet Pea see all of you, but at the same time you were nervous. He set you gently down on the bed, begining to remove your lingerie, but was stopped by your hand just before your breasts were going to be uncovered. "Pea, wait."

He immediately sat up. "What happened? Did I do something wrong?"

"No no no baby your perfect." You look away from him, feeling ashamed of your body more than ever for some reason. "It's just, um, this is my first time. So, uh, be gentle, yeah?"

He leaned down to kiss you. "It's my first time too." You then looked at him in the eyes. "We're gonna figure this out together." He put his hands on your waist, rubbing over your sides with his thumbs to sooth you. "Don't worry, I've got you, okay?" You nodded, feeling more loved than you ever felt.

- smut ends -

After your moments of pleasure with Sweet Pea, you and him were snuggled up together, nude and enjoying the warmth of each other. "I wish I could stay with you." You said against his chest.

"Then stay the night, so I won't miss you." He hugged you, and you let out a tired chuckle.

"You know I can't, but I'll miss you too." You looked up at him and brushed his messy hair out of his face.

"I love you." He said quietly, causing you to stop what you were doing.

"What?"

"I love you y/n." There was only silence from you. You needed to process this. He sat up and buried his face into his hands, feeling rejected. "Damnit, I'm sorry. I should have waited longer, or done more things and I-"

You sat up and grabbed his hands, silencing him. "I love you too Sweet Pea." You brought his hands to your face, to which he brought your lips to his. "Please stop doubting yourself, Pea. I think your perfect."

He brought you into his lap, both of you still nude, leaving light kisses along your collarbone. He then looked up at you with innocent eyes. You peacefully smiled and let out a breath. "Let's get you home."

He took you home and kissed you goodnight. You got inside and took a shower, getting ready to go to sleep when FP came inside. "Hey kid, heard you did the serpent dance earlier."

You sat on your air mattress, folding your legs. "Mhm! I just need my tattoo, and I'll be a full blown serpent."

He smiled. "Well, we could get that done right now." He nodded for you to come to the table, where he got out his equipment. "Where do you want it?"

You thought about it. Where was a place that everyone could see it? Where could you proudly show it? You told FP where to put it, and after he was finished you all went to sleep.

The next day you rode to school with Sweet Pea, hiding the back of your hand. You wanted to wait until the right moment. As you got to school you were more cheerful and peppy, which Sweet Pea was loving. He was acting the same way with people, a smile hardly leaving his face. It freaked some people out.

That was until Reggie Mantle caught wind of the happiness between the two. Instead of going to you, he figured he would go to Sweet Pea this time. It was passing period, and you and Fangs were on your way to third period when you both saw Reggie walk up to Sweet Pea.

You were about to walk up to the both of them before Fangs pulled you aside, telling you to listen in as the other two talked. "Hey there Sweet Pea." He patted him on the shoulder.

Sweet Pea wasn't going to let him ruin his day. "Sorry, Mantle, but I don't feel like hearing from you right now. I feel too good right now."

He clasped his shoulder. He was about to leave when Reggie pushed him back. "I heard y/n's a serpent now. That's a shame, I liked her better as a Northsider."

"Too bad she's not." He smirked. "She made her choice, and she did what made her happy."

You smiled, looking at the back of your left hand. You ran your thumb over your tattoo, to which Fangs grabbed your hand and congratulated you. You both hugged and hushed each other a second later to keep listening in.

"Or what she thinks will make you happy. Think about it dude, she's moved out of the bad side of town and got some good friends. She'll stay out of trouble and the spotlight, which seems like what she wants. But she gave that up for you. You really gonna let her do all these things that she don't like just because she knows you want her to?"

The bell rang, and Fangs tugged you to class. You felt bad. That wasn't true at all. You didn't care whether you were on the bad side of town or not, or whether people noticed you. Sweet Pea was right, you did what made you happy.

As the bell rang Reggie left, leaving Sweet Pea in his thoughts. Did he really pressure you into doing all those things? Would you have been happier if you just stayed with your friends and never have talked to him?

This nagged the both of you all third period. When the bell finally rang for fourth period after what seemed like forever, you both headed to your shared class. Sweet Pea got there early, dreading this day.

As you entered the class, Sweet Pea sat up. Instead of going to your row, you went to the row next to yours, Sweet Pea's row. He didn't notice, focusing on what he was about to say. "Can we talk after class-"

You cut him off by kissing him. It was deep and passionate. He was surprised, but kissed back unconsciously. When you pulled back he was gasping for air, flushed with swollen lips.

"Sure." You said casually, hopping into your seat and paying attention to the board. You always knew how to make him feel a little better.

After class you both went by the door after everybody cleared out of the classroom. "What's wrong?" You fiddled with his jacket, a small smile on you.

"So, I was talking with somebody, and-"

"Was that somebody Reggie?" You looked up at him.

He wasn't expecting that. "You know?"

You nodded your head, putting your hands on his shoulders. "Why would you listen to anything he said?" You asked quietly. You didn't want him to feel any worse than he already did.

He shifted in his place, looking away from you. "Because he's right y/n. You're putting what you want on hold for me. You don't deserve that."

"You're what I want. I'm happy with being known as someone from the Southside. I don't care if I'm noticed by people. I feel like I don't deserve you."

He quickly looked at you. "Hey, that's not true. Don't sell yourself short like that! Why would you say that you don't deserve me?"

You let your arms fall beside you. "Because you've had to deal with all my crap this whole time. I'm literally walking baggage, and you're still right next to me to wipe my tears."

He crossed his arms. "Yeah, but I don't care about that stuff, I care about you."

"It's the same way for me!" Sweet Pea didn't look too convinced, and refused to look at you. You gently brought your hand to his cheek, turning his head to look at you. You then showed him the back of your left hand. "This is proof that I'm happy with the choices that I've made for my life."

Sweet Pea stared at the tattoo. "You're an official serpent." He said, more to himself than you. You nodded and smiled. He then looked at you and immediately backed you up against the wall, arm above your head. "I love you." The words came out as a whisper as he stared at your lips.

You puts your hands on his cheeks. "I love you too Sweets, so so much." Your lips then connected, feeling so right together.

As you both kissed, your moment was ruined when Fangs walked by and smacked Sweet Pea on the back. "Keep it in your pants Pea!" He called out, running away.

"Damnit Fangs!"

As you giggled and clung to him, you didn't think about the effects of joining the Serpents, especially not one caused by a person who wasn't associated with them at all. A certain person caught wind of your joining of a new family. This person thought that you were punishing yourself by being miserable. But there you were, a happy sinner. You couldn't stay that way. After all, Hal Cooper punishes sinners.

-------

Tag List:

@madaboutlili @sireennotsiren @elsie2018 @greyfairie @iamaunicorn4704 @wanna-plan-world-domination @whenallsaidanddone @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @live-love-bailar @thecraziestcrayon @cvvlxx @grim-adventures58 @official--fangirl @jesus-jagiya @skeletalwolfcat @theunofficialduke @punkrock-cinnamonroll @rhi-an-onn @amongthewildthingss @apocalypticriot @anahgiedd

#sweet pea fluff #sweet pea fanfiction #sweet pea fic #sweet pea x reader #sweet pea #riverdale fanfiction #riverdale fandom #riverdale #riverdale sweet pea #the southside #the southside serpents #the southsider

152 notes · View notes

safflowerseason · 5 years

Text

dan x amy college au drabble

i’ve had this little scene chasing itself in my head for a while, and getting it out was my form of stress-relief tonight. enjoy xx

summary if it were a real fic: dan and amy meet for the first time when he hooks up with her roommate.

~*~

“Rise and shine, frat-ass.”

Through a haze of sleep, Dan perceives one thing: something poking his shoulder repeatedly. And sharply. He ignores it, in the hope that it will go away.

It doesn’t go away.

“Come on, you fucking braindead assortment of malfunctioning pheromones, wake the fuck up. I need my room back, so I can begin to sanitize it.”

The poking continues. Dan wakes up just enough to roll over and grit out, “Jesus, get the fuck away, I’m getting up!”

He pushes himself up on his elbows and bats away at whatever’s poking him. His hand closes around smooth, warm, skin. Whatever is poking him is female. Dan opens his eyes.

The girl he is face to face with is most definitely not the girl he fucked last night. He does not remember a fucking enormous pair of blue eyes, and a sheet of princess-blonde hair. He does not remember those curves underneath his hands.

They stare at each other for a second—their hands still loosely entangled—before the girl narrows those eyes at him and yanks her wrist away. Dan immediately scrambles to a sitting position, his back against the wall of the dorm room. Hastily checks to make sure the sheets are covering him.

“Uh…hi.” he begins, awkwardly, and runs a hand through his hair. Fuck, he needs a mirror.

“…where is…?” Shit, he’s blanking on the name. Her dad was on the Board of Trustees. He remembered that much.

“Wow.” Blonde-girl laughs derisively. “The poor girl who faked an orgasm for you last night…her name is Alice. And her sex window is over, so I don’t know what the fuck you're still doing here.”

“Hey, she didn’t fake it.” Dan snaps automatically, not that he cared that much either way. Her father was a trustee, but it didn’t make Alice particularly exciting. Their encounter was definitely not worth putting up with her fucking manic roommate. Jesus.

“Oh, I’m sure she didn’t.” the girl rolls her eyes. She’s coming into better focus now that Dan is more awake, and to his profound exasperation, she’s way hotter than Alice. Shorter—they’re basically eye-to-eye with him seated on the bed—but striking, with those massive eyes and a rosebud mouth. Her tits look very good in an aggressively simple navy blue sundress, the thin material clinging to her curves in a way that’s probably not intended to be enticing but totally, totally is. Fuck, he needs some coffee. Or a shot.

“…are you…are you checking me out?” she asks, sounding a bit stunned, and Dan realizes belatedly he’s basically been staring at her for the past thirty seconds, not saying anything. (Then again…she didn’t stop him right away.) “Oh my god—you literally woke up in my roommate’s bed!”

“So? Did I fall down some fucking time hole and wake up in the fifties?!” he retorts, more annoyed at her than ever. Forget how kissable her mouth looks. This girl has to be the most fucking infuriating person he’s ever encountered this early in the morning and he lives in a frat house. “What are you even doing here in the first place? Don’t the two of you have some sort of system?”

“She told me she had a volleyball game. I didn’t know she accidentally left a souvenir behind.”

“Well,” Dan snarks, “You’re going to have to give me a few minutes, babe, and I’m going to need some coffee first, but don’t worry, you can have your turn if you want.”

She looks truly enraged. “Get. the. fuck. out. now.”

“I can’t.” Dan retorts, as insolently as possible. “You’re standing on my pants.”

“Ugh.” the girl groans, looking revolted, and flounces toward the door. “You have two minutes to make yourself presentable.”

Dan gives her the finger, a gesture she returns in a move that’s so unexpected for a girl he almost chokes on his own surprise, and then she slams the door angrily behind her, leaving him (finally) alone.

He jumps out of bed hastily and the first thing he does is check his reflection in the nearest mirror. (It’s workable. His hair miraculously still looks purposefully tousled, and his freckles aren’t standing out too much.) Fumbling into his jeans and shoes, he looks desperately around the room for some intel on whoever the fuck this girl is.

Her side of the room is obsessively neat, and there are some boring prints of some lesser known impressionist paintings tacked up on the wall over her bed. Unlike Alice’s massive and messy collage of photos, there’s just a few framed pictures arranged on the bedside table. Dan doesn’t even have to guess which desk is hers—it’s the one overflowing with books and papers, even though class doesn’t start for two days. (And he steals a piece gum out of Alice’s desk, just to cover his bases. And borrows her deodorant. He may as well get something out of fucking her.)

Hanging on the back of the door, there’s a whiteboard covered in flowery curlicued scribble. Amy - SAE welcome back party. Come out!

Amy reenters the room just as Dan is tugging his shirt down over his chest and reading the old textbook titles that are stacked in her bookshelf. (What? He’s no rookie. She might be annoying but she’s too fucking cute for him not to try.)

“Stop looking at my stuff, you creep.” she says, crossly. “It’s a girl’s dorm room. Nothing you haven’t seen a hundred times before.”

“Yeah but not all of them had their very own library.” Dan replies, but in a distinctly nicer tone of voice. It was just a split-second, but he caught her glancing at his shoulders, and it’s enough for him to feel significantly more in control of the situation. “Did you leave any left for the rest of us?”

“I don’t imagine you come across many of those in the primordial ooze that makes up your frat house.”

Dan smiles at her, his most charming, devastating grin, because she clearly thinks he’s a braindead fraternity bro with nothing but a pretty face and he can’t wait to prove her wrong.

“I’m Dan.” he offers.

“I know.” Amy replies, and there’s a smug little tilt to her chin. “I figured out why you look so familiar. You’re that idiot who ran for GSA president as a freshman.”

Dan just smiles wider and takes a step toward her. “If you knew anything about politics, Amy, you would know sometimes people run just to come in second.”

He says her name with the intent to throw her off, since she still hasn’t introduced herself, but Amy just rolls her eyes. “I actually do know a thing or two about politics, and no one runs to lose like you did.”

Her voice is still impossibly dry, but the corner of her mouth lifts, just slightly, in a coy little smirk—pleased to have gotten the upper hand so neatly. Dan can’t even be too annoyed, partly because it’s a fucking sexy expression, and partly because…he has his own trump card to play.

“Well,” he says, in a very aw-shucks kind of voice, and shoves his hands in his pockets. “I guess I’ll be learning a lot more in Professor Spellman’s American elections class.”

Amy looks flatteringly gobsmacked. “You are in Spellman’s History of the American Election course?”

“Yep.” Dan replies, smugly. History of the American Election is the capstone junior seminar for the political science major, and not just anyone can take it. It’s taught by the toughest professor on campus, who worked for two presidential administrations before “retiring” to teach. He only accepts twenty students per year, and you have to submit a portfolio of your previous work and endure a personal interview before he decides if you can take the class. Professor Spellman is old friends with the chair of the DCCC, and rumor has it if that if you impress him, he’ll land you a internship with the congressman of your choice after you graduate. A paid one, for that matter.

“…What’d you do, sleep with his TA?”

“Nice try, Amy.” Dan shakes his head at her for being so mean. “You know Professor Hardman doesn’t have a TA. I sat through the same fucking interview process you did.”

Amy doesn’t respond right away, just studies him like he’s a particular complicated theorem. Dan can see her instinctive respect for the professor battling with her low opinion of him, and something else glimmering in her massive eyes, something genuinely curious. Her face is incredibly transparent, and Dan can’t help it…it’s fucking intriguing about how open she is around him and yet also (maybe even because of it) so obviously guarded. He stares right back at her, long enough that she blushes a little and looks away, and immediately Dan decides that he and Amy Brookheimer are going to fuck, and they’re also going to ace the class. He could fucking do anything if she looks like that around him.

“Well…” Amy finally says, and sits primly down at her desk. “I guess I’ll see you on Monday, then.”

And that seems like an impossibly long time to wait.

Dan pulls out his phone—the usual endless string of text messages from friends and possible fuck buddies, nothing from April but he doesn’t care—and pretends to be studying it for a moment, as if he’s figuring out where to go. Amy, incredibly, based on the sounds coming from behind the wall of the desk, seems to be opening up her laptop to start working. On a Saturday.

When he’s certain she’s reasonably distracted, he peeks down at her over the edge of the desk. “Wanna get breakfast? The waffle bar will still be open.”

Amy glances up, and for the first time since she encountered him in her dorm room, she looks truly flustered.

“What?! I…what?”

“Breakfast. It’s what people eat in the mornings.”

She actually looks confused. “I…I ate already.”

“It’s nine thirty in the morning. What’d you eat?”

“I had a smoothie. On my way back from my boyfriend’s.”

A boyfriend? Dan clocks the information without any disappointment. Any boyfriend who’s letting Amy Brookheimer leave his place before noon on a Saturday is not a boyfriend he has to worry about. “Oooh.” he deadpans. “I think you can spare some space for waffles.”

Annoyance and intrigue are fighting across her face. “I…I have work to do.” she finally says, but she’s smiling helplessly, as if she knows she can’t resist him. “We have reading.”

“There are forty eight hours until class begins. Come on. I’ll share with you the intel I picked up on Spellman.”

“I already did some research on him.” Amy says, in a very know-it-all tone of voice that, weirdly, just makes Dan like her more. She plucks a blue file folder from a stack on her desk.

“Oh, excellent, Amy.” he says, and snatches the folder from her. “Waffles are on me.”

He darts for the door, and predictably, Amy leaps after him. “Dan! That’s mine!”

Dan doesn’t give her the folder back until they’re seated outside the dining hall with their food. Immediately, she smacks him upside the head with it and then steals half of his bacon. Dan lets her. It’s going to be a good year.

#veep fic #dan x amy #college au

32 notes · View notes

fracturedmotivationwriting · 4 years

Text

valentine’s day... or the day alice stabbed her first boyfriend

Alice wasn't sure how she let it get this far. Her relationship with Lev started innocent enough. He had saved her from some creep, and they became friends. Then they became closer than friends. Suddenly, they were dating, and now it was Valentine's Day. And they were making out.

Lots of couples make out on Valentine's Day, Alice had rationalized. She and Lev had kissed many times before. Nothing should have been different about them making out today. Except his hands roamed a little more than they usually did. And when Alice had tried to slow things down, Lev didn't react very nicely. He abandoned his flirty, charming attitude and replaced it with a controlling, obsessive nature that Alice had never witnessed. Of course, she had always heard that Lev wasn't a nice guy. But she had never seen that side of him and frankly seeing it now terrified her.

He had pinned her hands above her, with a grip so tight that it surely left bruises, ripped her blouse, and hiked her skirt above her waist. Alice wasn't completely naive. She knew what was about to happen. And the fear that coursed through her veins paralyzed her. Temporarily.

She felt his grip loosen on her arms as he worked on removing his pants. Wasting no time, she lunged forward, surprising Lev enough that she knocked him off balance. She grabbed the knife strapped to her thigh, that thankfully Lev had ignored since he had labeled her weak and nonthreatening.

Alice didn't think about it. She let her instincts take over. Thank God for Atticus' overprotective nature and the years of practice he had her complete with weapons. She felt a little resistance as the knife plunged through the muscle wall of Lev's abdomen. She heard a squish. She pulled her arm back before lunging it forward again. Another squish. And another. And another. Alice felt warm liquid trickling down her arms and hands. She heard screaming. She couldn't tell if it was hers. Maybe it was Lev.

Or maybe the string of yelled curses and threats and exclamations of pain in Russian were him. That made more sense.

Alice wasn't sure how many times her knife had met Lev's body, but with one final push, Alice sunk her knife in and shoved Lev away. She was on her feet, sprinting out the door without hesitation. No shoes, her purse still on his floor, her blouse and skirt all a mess, Alice didn't care. Her mind was blank as she ran. She just needed to get as far away from that dirtbag as she could.

She wasn't sure how long she had been running. Her feet were killing her. She was completely out of breath. The adrenaline left her, leaving her exhausted. She came to a stop, hands on her knees as sobs racked through her body. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see. She couldn't think.

A few minutes later, Alice had caught her breath. She was still crying, but she could at least breathe and see through her tears. Looking around, she almost chuckled at the irony of where she was. In her adrenaline-fueled state, she had run straight to Ravyn. At least, to the dorm building Ravyn lived in. It was on the other side of campus than Lev's, and while it wasn't that far from Alice's it was still out of the way from her own dorm. But in her state, her first instinct wasn't to run home or even to run to Atticus. It was to run to Ravyn. Even after all this time.

Sighing to herself, Alice slowly walked inside, muscle memory taking her straight to Ravyn's door. Praying that Ksenia wasn't there, Alice knocked.

"Alice?" Ravyn asked softly, eyes furrowed at the sight of the girl on her doorstep. Alice was the last person Ravyn expected to visit her on Valentine's Day. She figured the girl would be out with Lev.

"What- Why are you covered in blood?" Her brain caught up with her eyes as she noticed Alice's appearance. Her blouse torn, leaving her exposed in her pink lacey bra. Her skirt was wrinkled as if someone had held it up. Her shoes were missing. Her usually perfect makeup was in streaks and her hair was in complete disarray. Red stains covered her clothes and some blood was still dripping down her torso and arms. Despite the blood, she didn't appear injured from what Ravyn could see.

Alice glanced down at herself, a look crossing her features as if she just realized she was covered in blood and her clothes were a disaster. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, she looked back up at Ravyn and gently shook her head.

"Don't worry, it's not my blood," she whispered.

"That was neither my question nor my concern," Ravyn responded, her voice gentler and softer than Alice had ever heard it. She vaguely wondered if this was the tone Ravyn used when talking to baby animals or scared little kids. It reminded Alice of her mother's voice.

Alice didn't realize Ravyn had stepped out of the doorway and was guiding Alice into the dorm with a gentle hand on her back. Ravyn brought the girl into her bathroom. Alice noted that it was bigger than the one in her dorm. It at least had room for both girls to stand before the mirror.

"Let's get you cleaned up and then you can tell me what happened," Ravyn murmured. "Let me grab you some clean clothes."

She was back a second later with some sweatpants and a large t-shirt that Alice suspected belonged to Atticus. Ravyn set them on the counter before grabbing a washcloth and running it under warm water.

"Alice, I need you to remove your clothes," Ravyn said, her voice dropping even quieter than before. She knew that asking Alice to do such a thing could cause a panic attack. Assuming that the reason Alice's clothes were in disarray was what Ravyn suspected.

Alice just nodded, slowly shrugging the blouse off her shoulders and tugging her skirt down. As she looked down she remembered she had left her shoes at Lev's and ran all the way here barefoot. It was unlikely that she was going to get those heels back.

Ravyn turned back towards Alice, holding out the washcloth. Alice picked it up and slowly began to wipe the blood off her arms and torso. Seeing the blood though made her head start to spin. Her knees felt weak and her breath became shallow. She felt herself sway before Ravyn's hands were on her shoulders.

"Hey, hey, I got you," Ravyn said, lightly pushing Alice to sit on the toilet lid. "Let me."

Alice let Ravyn take the cloth from her hand, felt her gently wiping the blood off her skin. She was so exhausted. And her mind was fuzzy. Was this shock? Was this what Atticus felt like after crashing his bike? Minus the immense pain, he was in? Alice felt her eyes drift closed.

"Don't fall asleep on me yet, Alice," Ravyn warned, her voice a little more normal. "I need to know what happened. Then you can sleep, I promise."

Alice nodded. She knew Ravyn was right. She needed to tell her what had happened with Lev. Someone needed to know, and Alice sure as hell wasn't going to tell Atticus.

"Le- Lev and I went out for Valentine's Day," Alice started, her voice cracking and hoarse. "After dinner, we went back to his place to watch a movie. We- we started making out and- and he- he um, got a little handsy."

Alice's breath caught in her throat. Tears filled her eyes, making it hard to see Ravyn before her. The older girl set the washcloth in the sink, moving to grab some tissues and makeup wipes for Alice. Placing the tissues in Alice's hand, Ravyn started wiping away the already ruined makeup from the girl's face. With her other hand, she gave Alice's knee a comforting squeeze to continue.

"I tried to slow things down. Told him I wasn't ready. And then he got... Mean. His whole nature changed. He was cruel and controlling. He- he pinned my arms above my head and- and tore my shirt and pushed my skirt up. I- I knew what he was going to do. I stopped fighting cause I was in shock, but then his grip loosened and- and instinct took over. I stabbed him. Over and over again. And then I ran."

Both girls were silent for a minute. Alice staring thoughtfully down at her hands and Ravyn staring at the young girl before her. With tears running down her face and the blood and makeup gone, Ravyn couldn't help but think of how young Alice looked. Young and fragile and far too pure for someone like Lev.

"Alice," Ravyn broke the silence, her voice just above a whisper. "You did what you needed to do. It's going to be okay. I promise."

Alice tried to offer Ravyn a small smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. She silently grabbed Ravyn's hands, squeezing them to say thank you. Ravyn offered her a grimace in return.

"Alice, I just- I need to know one more thing, okay?" Ravyn ventured nervously. "Did you... Is he alive?"

Alice let out a small laugh. It was probably morbid and super twisted that she was laughing, but Alice and all her friends were a little twisted.

"No, I did not kill him, Ravyn," Alice reassured the older girl. "I may have reacted on instinct, but I was still smart enough to avoid any major arteries or organs. He should be fine as long as he doesn't let his huge ego prevent him from seeking medical attention."

Ravyn let out a small laugh, standing up and handing the extra clothes over to Alice before grabbing the destroyed ones from the floor.

"Well, I'm glad that we don't have a body to get rid of then," she joked lightly, earning a small chuckle from Alice. "Why don't you get dressed and then the two of us can have a bit of a sleepover before telling Atticus what happened tomorrow?"

Alice looked gratefully up at Ravyn, unfolding the extra clothes. After everything that happened tonight, having Ravyn back made her feel a lot better. She had missed her. And she was grateful that the older girl was willing to comfort her and give her one night to process everything before telling Atticus. She was dreading that conversation with her brother, but at least she would have Ravyn by her side.

"Thanks, Ravyn," Alice whispered. "For everything."

"We're family," Ravyn shrugged, a faraway look in her eyes that Alice guessed had to do with Atticus. "I've got your back, Alice. From now on, nothing is gonna change that."

#a coalition story #alice blackbourne #ravyn white #alice and ravyn #alice and lev

3 notes · View notes

quentinsquill · 5 years

Text

Fic: “Four Letters and a Funeral” (The Magicians)

Four Letters and a Funeral

Author: Lexalicious70

Fandom: The Magicians

Rating: Teen and Up

Word Count: 1,943

Warnings: Canon character death

Spoilers for 3x05

Summary: Four letters from the mosaic universe and how they play a part in the lives of Quentin, Eliot, Arielle, and little Rupert.

Author’s Notes: This is for the @whitespiresarmory’s Armory Challenge, Week 3: “Letters.” All errors are my own. I don’t own The Magicians, this is just for the fun of it all. Comments and kudos are magic: enjoy!

Read it on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19758550

Four Letters and a Funeral

By Lexalicious70 (all_hale_eliot)

Quentin wrote a letter the evening he’d kissed Eliot.

Words always came to him simpler when he put them on paper. There was no eye contact to maintain, phrases and meanings could be chosen with more care, and his pen didn’t stutter or become afflicted with a severe case of what Eliot called the ‘uhms.’ With these circumstances came a kind of confidence that Quentin didn’t possess very often, and the letter flowed out onto the page as Eliot dozed on the blanket they’d laid out earlier in the evening. The words flickered in the firelight.

Dear Eliot,

I’ve never been very good at being sure of my actions. No matter the situation, I usually end up second guessing myself or obsessing over the outcome had I chosen the other option. You’re probably aware of this, and maybe you’ve even been on the receiving end of this habit I can’t seem to shake. But I want you to know that tonight, when I kissed you, I’ve never been surer of anything, even when Dean Fogg asked me if I wanted to study magic at Brakebills.

I keep thinking about the way you kissed me back . . . it was so different than the night we had with Margo. I don’t remember a lot of details, but your kisses then were hungry, like you’d been waiting your whole life to kiss me. I don’t know if it was the wine or the emotion bottles or if you really had been waiting to kiss me since the moment we met, but the time we spent together tonight makes me realize that it doesn’t have to be complicated; it seems like we both want the same thing, so why the fuck not? We’re here, and we care about each other, and that feels like it’s enough. I’m sorry that it’s taken me a year to figure this out, but I do love you, Eliot, and I hope it’s not too late for me to live my life here—to live it with you.

Yours, Always,

Quentin slipped the letter into Eliot’s pocket and stretched out next to him on the homespun blanket, under the cover of starlight, before giving himself over to sleep.

5 Days Later

A letter appeared tucked between the pages of The World in the Walls, which Quentin had been carrying in his Sharo bag when they’d traveled to this universe. Eliot was outside sorting mosaic tiles, and Quentin pushed back his long hair as he sat down in the little eating nook they’d made and opened the sheet of cream-colored parchment. Eliot’s handwriting was as elegant as everything else about him, the script leaning toward the right.

Dear Q,

There is no ‘maybe’ when it comes to being on the receiving end of your lack of self-confidence, but thank you for acknowledging that shortcoming. I have plenty of my own, however, so please don’t think that I hold this against you. We all have our demons, and sometimes they cause us to hurt the ones we care about.

I never expected you to kiss me that night, but my God, it was like you opened a door that I was sure had slammed shut that night with Margo (actually more like shut and then nailed closed,) and you gave me another chance at something I thought I had ruined forever because I was selfish. And I was hungry that night, Q, I’d been dreaming of the taste of your lips, your skin, your cock . . . and I gave into my desires even though I knew it was selfish. Maybe I knew, as drunk as I was, that what we did was bound to cause trouble between you and Alice. I don’t know if I can say I’m sorry for that, because once I tasted you, Q, all I’ve ever wanted was more.

I have plenty of reasons to refuse you: the strangeness of this world, the thought that you may just be lonely, my own issues with commitment and my fears that I may somehow end up hurting you. But all that aside, Q, I have one overwhelming reason for saying yes, and it’s this: I love you, Quentin Coldwater. From the moment you stumbled from the bushes, sweaty and floppy-haired, and asked me if you were hallucinating, you’ve held a piece of my heart.

That being said, all I can do now is offer you the rest.

Always Yours,

Eliot

Two Years Later

“Oh, goddamn it!”

Eliot turned from the weaving loom to regard Quentin, who was crumpling up what looked like his sixth piece of parchment in fifteen minutes, his cheeks flushed with emotion. Eliot locked the loom so the shirt he was making wouldn’t unravel and went over to his partner.

“What is it, Q?”

“I’m trying to write a letter to Arielle so we can—you know—tell her how we feel and everything? But I can’t get the words right. It either sounds too formal or like I’m offering something that’s inappropriate. I love her—I’ve told her that already, so why is it so hard to write this?”

“Well let’s see.” Eliot dragged a chair over and produced a new piece of parchment. “Maybe I can help. After all, I want her to stay too. She’s good for you, Q,” Eliot had said as they sat down to write the letter together. “and didn’t our P.A. teacher say that the triangle is the strongest shape in nature?”

“You and Margo always ditched P.A.”

“Did we? Hmmph . . . I must have heard her say it while we were portaling our way out the back. “Let’s see . . .”

The letter took over two hours to draft, and when it was finished, Eliot and Quentin left it in the empty wicker basket near the door, where Arielle always placed their fresh fruit. It read:

Our Dearest Arielle,

There are many things we’ve found to be special about this place, but you are the most unique by far. Your kindness, the way you always went out of your way to visit us, spoke volumes about your generous nature. Our fondness for you has, over the past few months, become something more, and we’d like to invite you to stay. We know from past experience that this kind of relationship is pretty common in Fillory, especially when it comes to a man having both a wife and a husband. While we consider ourselves married, we know that adding you to our family would only make it stronger and more complete.

It's true that we never expected someone to come into our lives that would affect us like you have. But life, like magic, is unpredictable. You may be a part of the puzzle when it comes to the beauty of all life, or maybe you appeared because you hold a different kind of beauty, one that Quentin certainly doesn’t want to live without. We both believe you’re good for us in many ways, Arielle, and because we’ve learned that families in Fillory are created and not always bound by blood, your staying with us and becoming a part of our family makes sense.

We hope you say yes.

Affectionately Yours,

Quentin and Eliot

Six years later

They found the letter hidden in a folded, embroidered piece of cloth among Arielle’s things a few weeks after her death, when Quentin finally responded to Eliot’s pleas to leave their bed, where he’d been since Arielle and her stillborn daughter, Grace, were buried in the woods behind their cottage. Neither magic or medicine could stop the hemorrhaging once little Grace had come into the world, blue and silent, leaving Quentin, Eliot, and their four-year-old son, Rupert, bereft.

“What do we do?” Quentin asked, fresh tears coursing down his cheeks as he held up the envelope with Rupert’s name on it. Sun poured through the cottage window and Eliot noticed a few glimmering strands of silver in his husband’s long, tawny hair. “He’s too little to read and maybe he won’t understand—he keeps asking me when his mom and the baby are coming back.” The last word hung itself on a sob and Eliot drew Quentin into his arms.

“Shhh, Q. It’s all right. Shhh, my love.” He soothed, kissing Quentin’s forehead and temples before producing a cool, wet cloth in one hand. He used it to wipe Quentin’s face. “Hey . . . listen. Rupert is going to be fine. He’s a tough little man. Why don’t we read it to him? Hmm? I bet he’d like it.”

“Y-Yeah,” Quentin sniffled. “It’s his, after all.”

***

They sat in the main room of the cottage, where the sun cast long fingers of light through the windows well into the late afternoon. Eliot made himself comfortable in the rocker while Quentin sat in his favorite chair with Rupert in his lap, the boy’s head on his shoulder. Quentin rubbed his back while Rupert sucked his thumb and listened to his Papa Eliot read.

My Dearest Little Rupert,

If your daddies found this letter, I hope they read it to you. You are my special little blossom, and I want you to know how much you are loved.

You live in a world of infinite magic, little one, but if fate decides that I can’t be with you, there are a few things I want you to remember:

Always listen to your daddies. They know what’s best for you and will always protect and love you

Be kind to nature. It will always return your kindness with bounty

Fall apples make for the best pies

Eliot passed the letter to Quentin, who cleared his throat and continued reading.

Flowers and fruit blossoms want to be noticed and admired—always stop and do so

Nature has its own magic

Learn to weave from your Papa Eliot—it’s a talent you will use all your life

You will always be in my heart, my little blossom, no matter where I travel. I am a part of you, which means you never have to feel lonely. I am no further away than the beating of your own heart. Take care of your daddies—they’re a part of you, too.

I Love You Forever,

Mommy

Quentin folded the letter with one hand and set it aside. Rupert raised his head from his father’s shoulder.

“Daddy?”

“Yeah Rupe?”

“Can you teach me to read and write, so I can write mommy a letter back?”

“Sure I can,” Quentin smiled and smoothed his son’s hair to one side. “But for now, I think it’s time I helped you wash up for supper.” He lifted Rupert up and carried him toward the little washroom they’d added a few years earlier, his free hand trailing along Eliot’s shoulder with affection. Eliot touched it in return and watched the light fade from the room as he recalled the words of the letter Quentin had written him so long ago.

We’re here, and we care about each other, and that feels like it’s enough.

Fin

#my fic #The Magicians #mosaic universe @whitespiresarmory #Queliot #Arielle

16 notes · View notes

minerva26love · 5 years

Text

Royal Flush

Ok, so this one is really long but i couldnt stop writing and didnt know where to end it. If you liked this please go on my profile i have a couple more.

“I cant believe your parents trusted us in being here by ourselves,” Remus said as we all were sitting in the living room. I was on the floor reading Witch Weekly laughing at what he said. James and Sirius were as usual arguing and this time it was about pizza. My friends were coming over in a minute. Remus and Peter were at the dinning room table playing Wizards Chess. James parents are out of town for a weekend, so they left us here with money and a liquor cabinet. Obviously we are not old enough but his parents arent strict and they know we wont do anything that stupid. I finally had Lilly to agree to come over as well as Alice.

“Check mate!” Peter layed his head on the table in defeat.

“Remus, is there anything you arent good at?” i smiled at him

“Only one game and that is poker, I know how to play but i am bloody awful.”

“Yeah me too.” i said. The doorbell rang as James ran to eagerly answer it. His obsession continues.

“Lilly Pop! How are you my darling? Oh hey Alice.”

“Nice to see you too James.”

“(Y/N) how are you dear?” Alice and i exchanged hugs as well as me and Lilly.

“Doing well Lilly Pop.” Remus chuckled in the background and Lilly smacked me. “That was so worth it though.” We all sat around the living room talking about the school year and how we did on our finals. See me and Remus we are kind of competitive and usually i beat him.

“So (Y,/N) and Remus lets go over grades!” Lilly said, James and Sirius Groaned but thats only because they suck at school. “DADA.”

“Acceptable.” Remus said proudly,

“Acceptable.” i said. Everyone now are even more intrigued because we are tied.

“Potions.” Lilly said

“Acceptable.” Remus said

“Outstanding!” I yelled. Everyone cheered.

“Charms.” Everyone laughs because i suck at charms.

“Outstanding.” Remus smirks

“Exceeds Expectations” I frowned

“Wow (Y/N), i even beat you on that one.” Sirius laughed.

“History of Magic”

“Acceptable” Remus smiled

“Acceptable.” i said

“Ok well looks like you guys are tied, theres only one class left. Herbology.” Lilly said. “Remus what was your final grade?”

“Acceptable.” He smiled proudly. The room became silent and everyone look at me.

“Acceptable.” i smirked. “Looks liked we tied Lupin.” Everyone laughed at Remus’s disappointed face.

“Well what do we do now? You guys tied.” Everyone sat in silence for a minute thinking on what other game to play. We have already challenged eachother to Wizards Chess many times. We really cant play Quidditch with two people. James then got up in excitement and went in the other room for a moment. We looked at eachother worried about what this boy is going to come up with next.

“I swear we are not playing spin the bottle!” James yells from the other room. As he came back into the room, holding what looked like a silver briefcase. I get slightly nervous when James has some unknown object in his hand. He leads us to a round table in another room. “We ladies and gentlemen, are going to play some poker.” He opened the briefcase and took out chips. “Does everyone know how to play?” Everyone nodded in agreement. James decided he would be the dealer then we will take turns after that.

“Wait, so we have no money, how is this fun to play?” Peter asked,

“Sirius dont you dare say it!” Alice said

“Then we play strip poker.” Sirius smirked. Alice, Lilly and Peter’s mouths dropped. I mean i was totally ok with this because i would love to see Remus with no clothes on. After they closed their mouths they surprisingly all agreed to play, “So heres how it works if you lose you have to remove one item of clothing. Lets say someone ties they both win, does everyone understand?” Everyone nodded in agreement. What they dont know is that im actually pretty good at poker. “Oh i also forgot, if you fold at any time you dont have to remove a piece of clothing.” James dealt out the cards and the first round of many began. There was a Queen of Hearts in my hand as well as a 8 of hearts. Not to horrible but wasnt feeling confident. Everyone stayed including myself. James dealt out the first 3 cards. 2 of hearts, 10 of clubs, and 7 of hearts. James looked intrigued so he stayed so did Sirius, Remus and myself. Everyone else folded, James dealt the next card on the river it was a 3 of hearts. I sighed because i wanted them to see i was frustrated which i wasnt. Everyone else stayed no one has even raised yet. James put down the last card, it was a 6 of spades.

“I’ll check” Remus said

“I raise to two pieces of clothing.” Sirius smirks. Remus sighs and James starts to tap his fingers on the table.

“Alright, i see your two pieces of clothing.” James decided.

“I am actually going to raise to 3 pairs of clothing,” Alice and Lilly lean in. Everyone matches the bet. “Remus you first.”

“Pair of 10′s.” Remus blushes. Sirius laughs and shows his cards.

“ Straight, 2,3,4,5,6.” Remus puts his head on the table in defeat, Peter starts laughing. The girls just are looking intrigued because we can see Remus with three less pieces of clothing. “Ok James your turn.” James hesitantly places is cards down.

“Two pair, 3′s and 7′s.” Sirius clapped thinking he is still the winner, (Y/N) what do you have?”

“Start stripping boys, Flush!” All the girls cheered. All three of the guys heads were on the table in defeat. The three boys took off their socks and then their shirt. Alice and Lilly cant help but giggle. I try not to stare at how hot Remus looks without a shirt on. A couple of rounds later this is where we all stood. Remus, Sirius, James and Lilly all had shirts and socks off. I only had my socks off and well Alice and Peter just kept folding. I am now the dealer in this round. After handing out the cards i look at my own hand. Ace of clubs and a King of clubs. This is either going to turn out great or a total shit show. If Remus or Sirius have a good hand they can go all in. I could definitely loose and end up in my bra and underwear if i am not careful. Everyone took a moment to look at their cards. With no surprise Peter, Alice and also James actually folds for the first time and everyone else checks. I deal out the first 3 cards. Queen of Clubs, Jack of clubs, and a 4 of diamonds. Holy shit, if i get a ten i will have a straight, but if its a 10 of clubs it will be a Royal Flush. Its not rare but not really gonna happen. Everyone still checks as we go to our next card, a 7 of spades. Everyone still checks, i really thought someone would have folded by now at least. We start glaring at eachother, there is one asshole here that probably has absolutely nothing and i think its Lilly. I deal out the last card and its a 10 of clubs! Holy shit i have a Royal Flush. “Im gonna go all in!” i said. Everyone gasped then looked back at their cards seeing if it was really worth it. I know i have the best hand here. Everyone else matches all in. I think they may just want this game to end already. “Ok, we start with Lilly.”

“Pair of twos.” Everyone laughs because you should rarely go all in on a pair of twos. I think she also wanted this game just to be over.

“Ok Sirius your turn.”

“Ace high card,” Peter almost falls of his chair he was laughing so hard. “Come on i thought u had nothing.”

“Ok next is Remus.” Remus smirks and looks down at his cards, I try not to laugh because i know i beat him already.

“I have a Flush.” Sirius slams his head on the table and Lilly sighs. They know they already lost. Everyone then looks at me. I get really excited because i won.

“Royal Flush.” Everyone's mouths drop as i smile. Remus just stares at me. I finally beat him. Remus just stays in his boxers. “Good game everyone!”

“You said you sucked at poker!” Remus joked.

“Well Moony i lied.” Everyone laughed at him as i left the room for a minute. I couldnt believe i actually beat Remus at something. I actually left the room because i couldnt stand seeing Remus just in his boxers. He was so hot in just his boxers. I have had a major crush on him for the longest time. Im just to awkward and stubborn to say anything. While trying to find my pjs someone knocked on the door. “Come in?” i said in sort of a question. Remus walked in the door with just his boxers on still. “Oh, hey i was just going to change really quick,”

“You finally beat me at something, you broke the tie. What would you like Ms, Winner.” I bit my lip as i looked away. All i wanted to say was all i want from you is a kiss. But what if he doesnt like me back? What if it ruins our friendship? “(Y/n)? You ok?” I looked back at him and blushed, I sat on the bed and he sat next to me looking at me waiting for an answer.

“Yeah im fine just thinking what i want.” he smiled. Looking at him, he also looked slightly nervous. “If you beat me what would you have wanted?” He looked back up at me and put a piece of hair behind my ear. He then put his hand on my cheek and kissed me. I froze for a minute, but this is what i wanted as well. I kissed him back feeling how soft his lips were against mine. I could feel the kiss getting deeper, like he wanted more of me. After a minute he stopped and looked at me. “I wanted you”

“Finally.” I kissed him back on the bed leaning into him more, I straddled him and kissed him harder. i heard him moan and bite my lip. I rocked back and forth into which made him hard. I pulled away from him and took of my shirt. I went back to kissing him and i felt his hands explore my body. He started at my shoulders, then down my chest onto my breasts. He cupped them in his hands. He pulled away from my lips and put his mouth on one of them, I grinded into him more. Him sucking on each one of them, “Ugh Remus,” His hands went back to exploring my body. He ended up near my waist playing with my underwear. He looks back up at me.

“(Y/N) i have liked you for a long time.” I smiled so big at him. I never thought i would actually hear him say that.

“Ive liked you since i asked you for an extra quill in potions class.” He laughed remembering that whole day. He flipped me over now he is on top of me.

“If you want to stop you can.” I shook my head.

“Ive wanted to do this for a long time,” he smiled then continued to explore. He continued where he left off. Remus touched me softly and played at the waist of my underwear. I moaned because i wanted him to keep going. He touched my clit while my underwear was still on. “Please Remus.” He took off my underwear and played with my clit. He rubbed all around it and then put on finger inside of me. He curved up his finger hitting my spot and rubbing circles on my clit, “Oh, fuck that feels so good.” My hands just reached the waist of his underwear as well. He took it off. He looked very nice and hard, I was about to touch him as he slid down with his lips near my opening. He slipped one finger in me and he put his mouth near my clit. He started sucking and biting on it. I couldnt stop moving it felt so good, “Remus i dont want to cum yet,” He looked back at me confused, “I want you.” He smiled.

“ We dont have to do that tonight love, i like pleasuring you and-” i cut him off by kissing him. He took that as i dont care i really want to fuck you. I flipped him over so i was in control. “I want you.” I smiled. I grabbed his dick and put him inside of me. “Ugh, that feels so good,” he looked up at me as i started to play with my breasts in front of him. “You are so hot.” I then lowered my hands to play with my clit. He fucked me as his dick got deeper. “Yes just like that faster.” I leaned one hand on the wall as i rode him. “Go on all fours.” I smirked and obeyed, On all fours he put his dick in me again and fucked me so hard,

“Yes, Remus holy fuck,” He started pumping harder into me. “Ugh i feel it Remus,”

“Cum baby.” I felt this powerful sensation in me. I was almost there. Then he stopped to tease me. I sighed in frustration, I flipped over, he grabbed my legs and slide me in front of him, I was now laying down and he was standing up by the edge of the bed. He smirked and went inside of me again, He pumped harder into me, rubbing circles on my clit. The feeling i had before quickly came back to me.

“(Y,N) im gonna cum baby i can feel it.” He starts going faster.

“Ugh Remus, Fuck, Oh fuck.” I cum all over, i feel so sensitive but it feels so good.

“ Oh yeah, Ugh,” He pulls out and cums a couple seconds later. We both lay down in the bed together, silent. We look at eachother and smile like we have never smiled before.

“We just fucked for the first time at James’s house.” We both laughed as we ignored our friends and stayed with eachother for a moment. After awhile we got dressed then walked hand in hand to our friends, They took one look at us and cheered,

Taglist: @rainandhotchocolate @siriuslymarauders

#remus lupin #remus x reader #poker #harry potter #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fanfiction #remus lupin smut

50 notes · View notes

filmsthirteen · 5 years

Text

Finding Myself through Cameron Crowe Films

*Minor Spoilers*

There are a handful of directors, writers, artists, and singers who have influenced my life. Yet there is only a handful of them who consistently released art that contributed to the person I have moulded into, (despite only being 19 and thinking this is the final version of myself). But one filmmaker in particular, resonates as having created films that were pressed play constantly as a teenager. That filmmaker is the man, the myth, the legend, Cameron Crowe. If it were up to me, he’d be Sir Cameron Crowe. An artist who had managed to shape multiple generations and accurately reflect on generations that once existed. From the early eighties, Crowe has contributed to the films that teens flocked to the theatre to see when they were released, and many years later, those teens would show their kids those films. Thus, I was thankfully brought up by brilliant films such as Fast Times at Ridgemont High, Say Anything, Singles, and Almost Famous. All those films manage to capture adolescence and young adulthood, through numerous characters, eras, and most importantly, through the use of music. Now that I’m in my final year of being a teenager, and entering the next phase of my life, I thought it was time to thank Cameron Crowe for guiding me through these seemingly treacherous years.

I was raised on eighties films. I always had the blessing of having parents who were really into films, and so I was constantly shown film after film. Many of them were teen films of the eighties. So, of course, there were many late nights of watching Pretty in Pink, Heathers, and Risky Business. Though Crowe's films obviously ended up in the mix, the first time I remember sitting down to watch one of his films ended up being around thirteen. My Dad got me one of those three pack special DVDs from Walmart, with Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club. Both of them I was absolutely obsessed with and made me long to be a teenager. Despite John Hughes being the legend he is, the third film, Fast Times at Ridgemont High, was the one that stuck with me through all four years of high school. I watched the film on my own the night before my first day of high school. I was starting that year off fresh; all my friends were going to the public school, while my parents shipped me off to the Catholic school the next town over, where I’d have to wear khaki cardboard material like pants, and polyester shirts in either green, white or blue. I worried my entire summer about the first day of high school; walking down halls I didn’t know, sitting beside people I never had the pleasure of knowing since kindergarten. On Stacy's (Jennifer Jason Leigh) first day of high school, American Girl by Tom Petty plays. Immediately I grabbed my iPod touch, added it to my iTunes, and played it on repeat on my hour and a half long bus ride, and into the doors of the school. Minus doing it with an older dude, getting pregnant, and brushing up my blowjob skills with a carrot in front of the cafeteria, I wished I was like Stacy. Having a cool job in the mall, somehow being gorgeous all the time (even during exam season?) and having a really sweet guy like Mark take you on a date to a really fancy German restaurant, seemed like an experience I deserved. But Cameron wrote about things in this film so painfully realistic to the high school experience, even thirty years later. I knew girls who went out with weird guys way too old for them, having plans for the future destroyed, and of course, having a teacher who thinks that everyone is on dope (which they're totally right about). It doesn't exaggerate the experience of a teenager, making the film so close to the truth as a film can get. Perhaps its due to Crowe actually spending the year as an undercover student, and honestly, all teen films should've been fact-checked like this one.

Less than seven years later, Crowe came out with Say Anything. Though my Mom loves this movie, and used to watch it whenever it would come on TV, it was the 2010 film Easy A that actually got me to watch the movie. I made it a point to go back and watch all those films that Emma Stone’s character lists off when discussing if chivalry is dead. Thus I ended up watching Can’t Buy Me Love, Sixteen Candles, The Breakfast Club, Ferris Bueller's Day Off, and of course, Say Anything. I wanted my life to be like an 80s movie directed by John Hughes, but I got it so much better, I got a life unintentionally directed by Cameron Crowe. And because of that, I fell in love with wanting to be that smart girl like Diane Court. I look back now on how much studying I did in high school, and how it paid off to where I am now. It’s important for filmmakers to add these characters, ones were they say that girls can be pretty and smart, not settling for the cliched pick and choose scenario. So I worked hard, writing endless essays, studying late at night for a math test, and juggled clubs and activities. But still, I wished to also have that and be wanted by someone. Like Lloyd Dobler, who wants Diane so much, its all he thinks about. But listen, for once I can say the character of Lloyd isn't some creepy dude, who has an obsession and is purely motivated by this girls essence. Again, there are way too many films with the lead guy being solely provoked by a woman's body. But when he gets her, he holds on, noting that her feelings are reciprocated. She could go off to Oxford, and he’d be right there. Perhaps love at this age is rare, but when you know, well you know. And that's a huge difference that my generation can see. Though many of us have grown up with divorced parents, constant cheating, and unreciprocated feelings, at such a young age, we shouldn't keep that from the actual emotions that we are meant to feel for another human. Maybe we are supposed to give it all, and as I watch this film, I’m not wondering what if Lloyd didn't go about the relationship as he did, I wonder how Lloyd and Diane are. Because like I said, he wants her so bad that he stands outside of her house after a fight, holding that boombox up high, blasting the best love song of all time, In Your Eyes by Peter Gabriel. I can’t even tell you the amount of times I’ve had that song on an endless repeat, but I can promise that I most likely broke the record the summer of ‘18. I longed to be sought after like Diane (cause who honestly doesn't want to be so enormously desired by someone you love?). By the end of the August heat, I laid awake at night, waiting for that song to be played outside of my window (actually would've freaked me out but still, the thoughts nice). But that song ended up being played during the fall, plenty of times in the cold winter days, and in the early spring, all the while so content with listening to it at this very moment. Sometimes boys and girls, it's good to just say anything (add wink emoji here).

Despite still being totally obsessed with all things of 80s culture, it's time to bring up that phase that wasn't ever a phase, but the depths of my soul. The tenth grade brought about my “grunge phase.” I got my nose pierced, splurged on Doc Martens, stocked my closet with various coloured flannel shirts and band tees. I wanted people to know that I listened to Nirvana, Guns n Roses, and Pearl Jam, despite it being on my shirt that I’d wear under my uniform sweater. My eyeliner was thick black, and my tweets were usually lyrics from some band part of the Seattle Sound. My Dad was in his teens when the Seattle sound came about, and thus as a kid, I spent many car rides hearing Alice in Chains ‘Dirt’ album, Pearl Jam’s the ‘Ten’ album, and Nirvana’s ‘Unplugged’ album on the radio. For me, I was the real shit when it came to this era of my life. And that became the perfect opportunity for my dad to introduce me to Crowe’s ‘92 film Singles. A group of young adults who all live in (a now extremely famous) the same apartment complex, during the height of the Seattle sound. Surprise surprise, they reside in Seattle. Honestly, there could've been no better film for my dad to turn on. With cameos from my bae Eddie Vedder and the late Chris Cornell, the film brings so much to the group of young adults who chose to immerse themselves in real boy bands, compared to whatever the other ones who sang with earpieces paired with synchronized dances did. No offence. Dealing with the idea of relationships, whether we are to settle or have fun in our 20s, Singles is supposed to be about Gen Xer’s, yet, I can see how many millennials still have this issue. There are plenty of girls I know who have used their ex’s t-shirts to clean their toilets, and though we aren't making dating VHS’s, they are perfecting their tinder profiles, hoping that actual human connection exists on the other end. The biggest point in the film that got me, (despite being sixteen trying to imagine myself in four years time), was the whole fear of what if you commit and what if you don’t? There are many ways you can mess up potential, and still, it lies within not calling after a date, or in our case, texting after hanging out. Sometimes we just need people to say and do the right things without having to tell them what is the right thing to do or say. And if it all works out, we’ll end up like Steve and Linda who move out the single bedroom apartment, and into never having to be labelled again as a single.

Eight years came about the semi autobiographical story of Crowe himself, Almost Famous. The film with the best soundtrack of all time, due to it having a budget of 3.5 million, compared to most films with budgets of about 1.5 million. Honestly, that's the best use of money in all of human history. And thanks to Zooey Deschanel’s duffel bag, we get to hear Simon and Garfunkel, Led Zeppelin, The Beach Boys, and everyone's favourite, Elton John. You cannot tell me you did not get goosebumps hearing Tiny Dancer being sung in unison by Kate Hudson, Billy Crudup, Patrick Fugit, Jason Leigh, and well I could go on forever about the well-casted film. Before watching the film, I remember that Fool in the Rain was my favourite Zeppelin song. But after watching it for the first time, I had probably had listened to Led Zeppelin’s song Tangerine a hundred times. If a film has such tangible (see what I did there) scenes, and a song contains such a powerful presence, then that is mastering filmmaking in my opinion. Thus, this film was watched during all sorts of moments in my adolescence. The time I wanted to work as a journalist for Rolling Stone, when I was in need of a change, and when I was absolutely alone and only a Cameron Crowe film understood me. And each time I was damn near tempted to be a roadie for a somewhat known band, who hopefully was opening for Black Sabbath. Actually, it was very much this film that got me more obsessed with concerts than I was before. I’d buy tickets as soon as they’d go on sale, mostly to smaller bands, that way I’d have a chance of being up close, and even meeting the band. Like William, I’d wait by the stage doors for the band. Dragging my friends to the concert at least twelve hours before the show would start, just so I could meet bands like Peach Pit, Pale Waves, Colouring, and well other indie bands that I’m sure slim to no adults know. Believe me, I’d wait a week for Black Sabbath if I could. But beyond that, I think that every young person deserves the life, encapsulated in this film; of just going out there and being absolutely free. You know, before life kicks in. And that's really what this film, amongst nearly all of Crowe's films, demonstrate. Get out there kid, put on those headphones, blast some Lynyrd Skynyrd, and just live before you die. Being obsessed with listening to classic rock, I devoured the only season of Paul Feig’s Freaks and Geeks, and had Almost Famous’s soundtrack on repeat. I owned a long green army jacket, and also a faux sheepskin sherpa coat. I was both Lindsey Weir and Penny Lane. I was walking down the two hallways of my high school, and the one street of my small towns downtown, earbuds in, Fleetwood Mac blasting. And through the many characters of these films, they reminded me that I’m here for the art. For the music from the Bookends album, the score of a Tim Burton film, and the tracks of a Tarantino picture. Like Kathy and Paul who went off to see America, Lindsey who goes off to a Grateful Dead concert with her best friend, and Penny Lane who is off to her dream destination of Morocco, I myself am off to see and hear the world.

It's odd to look back on these films that meant so much to who I was and who I’ve become. I’m in my last year of being a teenager, and I’m almost done university’ yet I still feel so attached to these characters I feel that I someway embodied. But that's not because I based my life off these characters Crowe created, it's really because Crowe based these characters off of people that exist in life. In those years of watching any teen film out there, Crowes (and of course Hughes) inspired me to look around constantly, taking notes on the friends I had spent lunches on Thursdays, discussing films with, just in case I’d make a film reminiscent about them. In my seemingly ordinary life, Crowe told me to go out and grab those who write seemingly precognition notes in your yearbook. Most importantly, Crowe told me to just let the music guide me through life. And for that, I got my life to be directed by Cameron Crowe.

INT. Credits being to roll, as ELTON JOHN’S TINY DANCER plays.

FADE OUT

6 notes · View notes

bambihanson · 5 years

Text

The altered characters + the significantly altered lore of my just now birthed Vampire AU

If you care to read it… first of all, I love you, second of all, in that case hit read more

Lore

Magicians in this universe are full blown witches; their powers are innate, they don’t get it from the world around them.

Which makes them much more powerful in a way, but they still govern themselves.

Gods are still very much a thing and witches are kind of at their mercy because they’re still the reason witches have powers in the first place

Being a witch is genetic, kind of like being a magician (basically if both your parents are witches you’ll be a witch too)

Witches are also kind of immortal; they live roughly 300-500 years, depending. But there’s no such thing as true immortality because they can be killed, along with every other supposedly immortal creature

Vampires and werewolves were both created by witches thousands of years ago

Being a werewolf is genetic (not some STD, but still, fuck a werewolf at your own risk unless you have a predator/prey kink), and they were originally created by witches to be guardians to them from other supernatural forces. However, they realized the werewolves had a few significant weaknesses, such as mortality (they live about as long as humans) and also they can be hurt/killed just as easily as a human. So then they made vampires.

Vampires are the OP version of witch guardians, as they got carried away trying to create something stronger than werewolves. They’re technically not undead, but for the sake of humanity, cannot reproduce. They need to feed on blood to keep up their energy; magic basically flows through their veins. They can do some magic because of this but not nearly to the extent of witches; mainly party trick level stuff. Like werewolves they have superhuman speed and strength, but on top of that they’re immortal and can only be killed by decapitation or a piece of wood/silver through the heart (or just straight-up ripping their heart out). Also, they’re immune to pretty much everything except wood and silver and the vampire mythos is basically human speculation from when they first popped up. Same with werewolves.

If you turn a witch into a vampire, the witch will lose their powers * Vampirism is an STD (supernaturally transmitted disease). If you get vampire blood in your blood, then you’re pretty much guaranteed to turn into one.

Brakebills still exists, as do hedge witches. Self-taught and school-taught witches still do not like each other.

The Library still exists, and they do govern witches to an extent, the only significant difference being that they don’t have any control over magic as, as stated before, it is innate and from the Gods. Granted, there are ways to limit a witch’s power when they deem necessary.* Fillory still exists, though it comes into play in a different way

Characters

Quentin Coldwater is a normal guy: still a huge nerd that’s obsessed with Fillory and Further, but normal. Until he ends up getting turned into a vampire and gets taken in by Eliot and Margo, who basically make him their little pet project. Pet is not as kinky as it sounds but there is definitely Queliot in this. Starts off stumbling, awkward, and kind of self-loathing but eventually grows into himself.

Eliot Waugh is a vampire, born in the 1860s and still has very much kept his Victorian flair. He can’t remember a majority of the 60s and 70s because he was a drugged up madman the whole time. He and Margo met in the 1980s; funnily enough at a Denny’s in the middle of the night. He’s very much a hedonist, but isn’t as aggressive with feeding as Margo: he prefers voluntary feeders that he keeps by his side. Which he was gonna try to get Quentin to agree to when oops, he fucking becomes a vampire. Which is massively unhelpful. But he manages to talk Margo into “keeping” him. His obsession with the flavor of the month is very literal in this case.

Margo Hanson, the Vampire King of New York City (she killed the last vampire King and took his title verbatim), is pretty ruthless, but she has a soft spot. She will rip into a human like a Thanksgiving turkey no problem, and treats life and her rule the same way, though Eliot tries to be a voice of reason and will hold her back when she tries to take it too far. Basically everyone except for a few close friends are terrified of her. Her name is whispered through the vampire underworld of NYC with a mixture of fear and arousal. Despite her ferocity, she has a lot of self control when it comes to blood lust (not so much with decision making but that’s a whole other can of worms). She’s older than Eliot; she was born in the 1780s.

Julia Wicker, Quentin’s childhood best friend, stumbles across Brakebills and discovers that holy shit, she’s a witch! She does as much research as possible on vampires to try and help Quentin out. She’s still very much into the pursuit of magical knowledge. Adorable but could kick your ass with her magic. She’s one of the top students at the school and is very well aware of that as Dean Fogg says it to her face every time he sees her.

Alice Quinn, born in the 1950s and your classic self-loathing vampire next door. She has little to no control over her bloodlust, and is basically pinned to Margo’s side because Margo actually tries to help her. Mainly because she doesn’t want any rouge vampires running around her city. Alice mainly drinks animal blood because if she gets a taste of the human stuff she goes absolutely bonkers (granted, an animal blood diet is hard for vampires as animal blood is different to the point where it’s possible to be allergic to the blood of certain species). She turns into the AU’s equivalent of Niffin Alice when she goes rouge. Also wears jeans and t-shirts all the time instead of skirts, y’all are welcome.

Kady Orloff-Diaz, the big bad werewolf chick. Helps Margo keep peace with the werewolves in the city. Kady resents being called an Alpha because that’s a myth, but she definitely takes on a natural leadership role. She’s fiercely loyal and protective of the people she cares about. Definitely someone to stay on the good side of.

Penny Adiyodi, a witch who specializes in teleportation and psychic abilities. He ends up at Brakebills as well with Julia. Has aspects of both 23 and 40 Penny; he has a good side but will not hesitate to fight you on sight if you annoy him. Begrudgingly accepts Quentin into his life because goddammit he likes Julia and he’s her favorite person so he kind of has to. Kind of into Julia and Kady at the same time and would rather not choose between them.

Josh Hoberman, a werewolf and surprisingly Kady’s right hand man. He’s very good natured and dorky, and also a stoner, but he can bake like nobody’s fucking business so Margo and Eliot like having him around.

Fen, the high Queen-King of Fillory. Calls herself this because she took on both roles after her husband (the king she was promised to) died. Very sweet and innocent, but also knows when to put her foot down and take charge. Not that Fillory isn’t still a mess, even though she’s trying her best. Tick and Rafe are her partners in crime... or, well, ruling.

Dean Henry Fogg is still the head of Brakebills, and he’s only slightly less jaded if only because he hasn’t watched his favorite students die 39 times. Still grumpy because he’s dealing with dumbass 20-somethings, most of which are only just now discovering they can do magic, on a daily basis. He thinks Julia is the best thing to ever happen to his school and would happily kill/die for her.

Marina Andrieski, the big bad hedge witch of Brooklyn and Kady’s ex-girlfriend. Still very much chaotic neutral but cares for her friends and colleagues, though she doesn’t always show it. Definitely is the thorn in the side of a lot of witches in the city, and takes pride in that. She is the knife cat meme personified.

Todd is Todd. He will not be overlooked. Definitely kind of takes Eliot’s role as the party guy who knows everybody, though he still lacks the sophistication. Still charming in his own way, though.

#i figured out out so quick since i stole a lot from an original story of mine #but i mean it's not plagarism if you're just copying yourself #the magicians

10 notes · View notes

maggotmouth · 5 years

Text

hi i’m nora (23. gmt. she/her) and i’m going to play three (3) characters ! cos i hate myself. no 1 is bridget the angsty socialist leftie liberal who gets fucked at the pub and goes off on one about capitalism. very talkative. always in docs and a beret with an anarchist symbol painted on it. wears a long green trench coat covered in badges for alt punk rock bands or a red denim jacket that she hacked into a crop jacket with a pair of kitchen scissors. film nerd. got in on a partially subsidised scholarship and works in a bar and a fast food place to pay for her accomodation. here’s a pinboard !! everythin else is below this cut, like this post n i’ll (probably forget to) smash that im button for plots x

application template.

( cis-female ) haven’t seen BRIDGET MATUSIAK around in a while. the MARGARET QUALLEY lookalike has been known to be GARRULOUS & CANDID, but SHE can also be FICKLE & ERRATIC. The 21 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in FILM. I believe they’re living in AUDAX but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door.

aesthetics.

thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, roller blades, grazed knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

connection to tatiana & did they choose her name during the watershed?

knew each other from the cheer team in bridgets freshman year and tatiana’s sophomore year. had a competitive friendship to start with but then they got into a discussion about politics at a party one night, and maybe hooked up a few times after tatiana had jst broken up w someone. they were sort of seeing each other very casually for a bit, but…. they came from vastly different circles n it didn’t really work. they were in a bad partch at the time of the reaping so to speak, and bridget picked her name For A Giggle but now regrets it big time obviously

tw drugs, teen pregnancy, hypersexuality

bridget n her mum alice were more like sisters growing up, probably because of the closeness in age. alice should’ve known that you couldn’t have a thirteen-year-old-daughter at 27 without everyone knowing you’d been one of those girls who gave it away fast as a hot potato, and maybe bridget should have known that she’d inherit more than her mother’s wide eyes, that things had a way of circling back, that at fourteen she too would lose it on the floor of a swimming pool changing room, soggy back, poka-dot nylon pulled down to her ankles.

her parents met in high school. her mother alice was a roman catholic – uneducated in matters of safe sex, mother mary around her neck, bras hanging over wooden crucifixes – and willing to give it to the first boy who seemed interested enough, gift-wrapped or not.

i say they met in high school, bridget’s dad wasn’t actually in school, they met at the high school. he was the father to a girl down the road. alice knew nothing of the girl besides her name and the few encounters in the corridors facing a stoney stare that screamed homewrecker. it only happened once, but once was enough. soon the pitter patter of tiny feet sounded along the hall of the home for wayward women, alice’s parents having thrown her out as soon as they knew a child was growing in her womb.

gilly (referred to as junior) was born two years later, the son of a mechanic and handyman named gilbert “gilly” senior, who - while a slow-witted man – was likable enough. alice, gilly bridget & junior lived in a colorado trailer park and whenever she wasn’t at school bridget would be in gilly’s workshop doin her homework surrounded by parts of exhausts. was raised in a workshop basically.

like her mother, bridget fell pregnant barely out of her gingham print dresses, hair in two plaits down her back, teddies still lining her bed. unlike her mum, she was not box-shipped out to a home for fallen women but rather booked into a clinic, given a pill, just like taking your vitamins.

her mother flaked out when bridget was around fifteen and junior was twelve, leaving gil to adopt the two as legal guardian and raise them in the forge. she’s lived with gilly ever since. they’re not sure where their mother went. some say she rededicated herself as a virgin and joined the convent in penance for her sins. some say she works in a las vegas strip club and sells pills to minors.

used to do sponsored silences and hunger strikes for kids in third world countries. was that kid in school who was always raising money something. i mean its kinda cute but also she just wanted the acclaim and attention so…. and most of the time it didn’t even make it to the disadvantaged kids she was raising it for cos her mom needed rent money or to buy the kids new shoes n they could barely afford much themselves

she’s a strident feminist, an activist for human rights and animal rights, a vocal vegetarian and an all-round soapbox sadie. catch her in the quad shouting about human rights through a megaphone.

aesthetic: cuffed jeans, thrifted or stolen. white converse, more grey tbh through years of wear. crop tops and plaid shirts tied round her waist. a long green trench coat with loads of badge pins for alt-rock bands and independent films. red denim jacket, also covered in badges n pins. smudged mascara. glitter smeared over cheekbones from the previous night. cigarette smoke shrouding you like a veil, the red string of a thong peaking out purposely from jeans, roller blades, cut knees, not eating your greens, smiling with a mouthful of blood, and piercing your own ears with a safety pin when your dad wouldn’t take you, kate moss posters lining the walls of a teenage bedroom, thumb holes poked through the cuffs of your sleeves, feet pounding the earth until your soles bleed crimson, sleeping in a cherry lip balm and scrunchies to keep the wild locks from your eyes.

an aspiring screenwriter. she has a very image-based view of memory and experience. always doing a screenplay or shooting film. her style has a lot of catholic iconography (think virgin suicides styler or baz luhrmann’s romeo + juliet if it was done on a super 8 camera) bcos catholicism is one of the few things she remembers about her mother. she’s never actually tried to find her mum / find out about her, jst…. occasionally channels that energy into her work.

hypersexual and kinda manic-depressive (though not diagnosed) probs bcos her upbringing was a bit unstable, she started life in a house that was literally designed to rehabilitate “fallen women” and she was a looked after child for a while when the adoption papers were still going through… struggles a lot with feeling unwanted, especially since her grandparents refuse to acknowledge her existence cos she was born outside of marriage….. so she craves feeling wanted,, like despite being a real women’s rights activist ad hating objectification, at the same time to bridge there’s nothing better than someone sizing you up with hunger in their eyes

she’s queer, but i guess she favours women, and is incredibly vocal in her support of the lgbt+ movement. often at rallies. has done a face-sitting protest. really is that bitch

there’s a degree of anger for anger’s sake in bridget. she likes passionate, angry music – particularly garage rock, punk and riot grrrl. she loves the slits and skinny girl diet. viv albertine inspired her to take up bass guitar.

working two jobs to pay for uni currently !! works at the bowling alley polishing the shoes and fixing the bowling lanes, and also is a burger flipper at mcdonalds. a lot of her time is spent in the record store, plugged into a set of headphones, head-banging in the corner to a scratched record. music, for birdie, is a form of escapism. that and dropping acid in parking lots lmao.

massive film buff. is majoring in film at uni also spends a lot of time at the movie theatre n probably has like a season ticket. is one of those pretentious film nerds who're like “what do u think of goddard’s work?” but also just really into shitty horror movies

she spends her evenings in downtown bars willing away her boredom, trying to find something that’ll jerk her out of apathetic lethargy. she toys with the idea of becoming a stripper — it certainly pays better than fixing bowling lanes — but she lacks the energy to dance for several hours a night.

she loves b movies and slasher flicks. at parties, she’ll occasionally try to make a horror of her own, on a super 8 camera in someone’s basement, very paranormal activity, but she’ll inevitably get bored, or too drunk and give up, like she does with most things in her life. she lacks drive and motivation. she’s bright but there’s no hunger in her.

writes shitty poems on the back of napkins and quotes dead philosophers she’s never read. romanticises herself a lot. like will be standing there in a ripped t-shirt and her undies smoking a cig like “hmmm… i bet someone is falling in love with me right now”

is vegetarian for environmental reasons but snorts coke at parties like that isn’t shit for the environment ?? sis, it don’t add up

loves dirt. ate a worm once because someone dared her too. shamelessly disgusting.

she’s slightly obsessed with true crime, up late watching documentaries on the manson family murders.

she’s fickle and enigmatic. one moment she could be your best friend, the next, she’ll behave like a total stranger. bridget’s unpredictable because she’s still unsure of her own identity, frequently flitting between different characters, like snake skins, before she grows bored of being bubbly and eager and becomes spiteful again. her core personality traits are probably forthright, impulsive, restless, thrill-seeking, selfish, melancholic.

this bitch HATES capitalism and LOVES karl marx

time isn’t real. nothing exists. the self is a social construct. finger guns.

an awful person, really

feel free to im me if u wanna plot, here are some plot ideas i stole, or, like this post and i’ll hit u with a message!

#water:intro #boom boom boom boom. i want u in my ims

16 notes · View notes