#sorry for the bad quality i took a photo of my tv with my phone
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I watched Rubin & Ed yesterday and the reoccurring statement "Andy Warhol Sucks A Big One" was a highlight.
#sorry for the bad quality i took a photo of my tv with my phone#rubin & ed#rubin & ed 1991#crispin glover#howard hesseman#rubin farr
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LOVE.
pairing: pinkcoquette/Sanriolover!oc x bf!jk
genre: fluff, smut
“Sippin' bubbly, feelin' lovely”
Synopsis: you wanted to try the “pink coquette core” on your boyfriend and your poor sleepy dog
warnings: brief SMUT at the end, oc is desperate, clingy, and be waking everyone up @ midnight in the name of coquette core💀, too much love in the air, mention of jk only in his sweatpants, dirty thoughts, (pink bow should have its own warning too imo)
Author’s note: this is my very first work/drabble ^o^ I was mainly inspired by these outta pocket ‘coquette core’ videos on tiktok and it made me think about my man jungkook and my son bam (this is unedited & will probably stay that way, I just write for my own sanity)
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡ ⋆
Pleaseeee my kookie? I promise it will be quick” I desperately pleaded to him as I straddled him on the couch. I showered his entire head with plenty of my sweet kisses, trying to convince him to do a foolish video that’s quite trending today. The only response I got are his arms snaking around my lower waist while he continues to watch his tv show, Bloodhound.
Early this morning, I was scrolling on my ‘for you’ page and saw a bunch of pretty and pleasing coquette videos. Essentially, pink bows were wrapped around the daintiest [and most random] stuffs including ramen cup noodles, lip oil, or even a rose toy. Do I get the pattern of the coquette trend? Absolutely not. But one certain thing I’m sure of is that I will wrap a tiny baby pink bow around my boyfriend. And it will happen no matter what it takes.
Since offering him with plenty of affection doesn’t seem to work, I had to go down with my last technique. “I will grant you three wishes if you let me do it” I whispered softly to his ear. Immediately, he grabbed the remote to pause the show that he was so focused on .
“Anything?” Jungkook eagerly asked, two round, shining dark eyes gaze upon me as they search for assurance in my words. “Anything” I guarantee, kissing his pretty nose before getting off his lap.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
“koo stay still” I complained while giggling at the sight of him attempting to awkwardly stand still with a flimsy ribbon flimsy bow that looped around his torso and veiny arms.
‘How cute’ I thought.
While trying to capture videos and a couple of photos of him, I can’t help but to flash a grin. Small things like this really make my heart so full. Spending a solid quality time with him, even if it’s doing something nonsense is a memory I will forever value.
“So cute” I mumbled, staring at my phone as I went through the images I took seconds ago.
After a minute or two, Jungkook, who’s still standing, took a loud, deep breath.
“baby are we done yet?” he whined. “Oh my bad kookie” I rushed to turn off my phone to finally give my undivided attention to him. The ribbon tied around him got unfasten by me. Finally, he can breathe freely again.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
It was midnight when out of nowhere, another light bulb popped out of my brain on what (or who) to use the notorious pink decoration for. And in this case, I won’t be able to sleep unless I accomplish the sudden idea. Somehow, I managed to escape from Jungkook’s arms securely holding onto my waist. I quickly grab two pink short strips and head to the living room. The entire apartment was filled by silence and darkness therefore I turned the mini lampshade in the corner, causing Bam to wake up and immediately have his guards up. When he recognized that it was just me, he put his head down on the floor while holding a gaze on me as if he’s questioning ‘why is she bothering me at this hour?’
“I’m sorry for waking you up this hour bammie, mama just needs to do something real quick ok?” I gently explained to the Doberman. It didn’t take me so much time to delicately tie a not-so-tight bow around his both ears. What took time was taking good pictures of him for the reasons that he’s moving too much and doesn't know what on earth is going on.
“Look at mami bam” I whispered, snapping my fingers to get his attention to look in the camera. The poor dog keeps moving his head, figuring out the thing around his ears are for.
“Baby what are you doing?” an abrupt voice spoke behind me.
Shit. Turning my body around, I got a glance at the half lidded eyes filled with pure curiosity. As I examined his tall and muscular physique, I also didn’t fail to notice that he was only wearing a pair of baggy sweatpants. And when I say only, I meant only so don’t ask me for any color of something.
The things that my mind urges me to do.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
I dropped my knees in front of him, left hand wrapped in his upper leg while the other hand softly palmed his growing tent. I looked into his eyes as I gave his clothed cock few pecks, teasing him. Instantly he gave me a nod before throwing his head back, gesturing to me to keep on going.
I wasted no time and pulled down his sweatpants till an angry, hard cock that slapped his bottom abdomen was released from being suffocated. It’s too pretty, so desperate to be touched. Using my small grip, I wrapped my hand around his shaft, directing it right to my drooling mouth. I gifted his pink mushroom tip kitty licks, then proceeded to gradually bob my head up and down greedily to his cock as if he’s my last meal.
“mmh.. so good baby” jungkook shamelessly groans, the cold room is filled with nothing but dirty, loud moans. The noises motivated me to go on and also to do the best I can to make him feel good.
―୨୧⋆ ˚
“___, you still with me?” he asked again, bringing me out in reality from the filthy thoughts that've been going around the back of my head.
“yeah.. I was just trying the ribbon on Bam” I responded breathlessly as my gaze returned to his beautiful eyes. I just smiled, as if I wasn’t imagining an obscene scene with him a few seconds ago. “let’s go to sleep” I announced as I got up from the ground.
and before we sleep, I made sure to turn my little cute scenario into reality.
#jungkook x reader#jungkookxreader#jungkook imagine#jungkook fluff#jungkook fic#jungkook smut#jungkooksmut#hello kitty#jungkook fanfiction#jk smut
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PHONE SWAP (DREW STARKEY)
18: MR. WHITE CLAW
summary: Addie Mallory is just your average economics student when she meets Drew Starkey at her local Target in Atlanta. This is where the story is supposed to end – a short meeting and a picture to go – except Drew accidentally leaves with the wrong phone, and the story begins, instead.
w/c: 4.4k
a/n: long one! sorry about it. i promise it won’t happen a lot. also, if i catch one of yous hating on holden you’re gonna catch these hands. <3
read on wattpad
previous part | series masterlist
Me | 6:42pm
I swear it’s fate that you’re coming back today because you know what
Me | 6:42pm
MARIANNE IS MAKING GOULASH TOMORROW
Me | 6:43pm
surprisingly unrelated to you coming back but hey!!
Drew | 6:45pm
no way!
Drew | 6:45pm
Does she make good goulash?
Me | 6:46pm
I’d be able to tell if she ever made it before lmao
Me | 6:46pm
it’s her first time
Me | 6:47pm
but she’s a pretty good cook overall so!! I wouldn’t expect like a masterpiece or whatever but a decent meal???
Me | 6:47pm
f yeah
Drew | 6:48pm
I’m inviting myself over
Drew | 6:50pm
what time should I come by?
Me | 6:57pm
if you think for one (1) second that this wasn’t an invitation
Me | 6:57pm
you are terribly wrong, mr. white claw man
Drew | 7:01pm
ok but WHEN SHOULD I COME OVER
Me | 7:02pm
oh right
Drew | 7:05pm
???
Me | 7:05pm
Marianne says goulash will be around 6 but you can come over at like 4 or 5 so we can catch up!!
Me | 7:06pm
I still need to show you the album!! I developed some photos I took since we hung out
Drew | 7:07pm
4 sounds great, can’t wait!!
Drew | 7:07pm
I’ll make sure to bring some White Claw
Drew | 7:07pm
What does Marianne drink?
Me | 7:08pm
Vodka
Me | 7:08pm
Tequilla
Me | 7:09pm
jk you don’t have to bring anything, we have enough alcohol in the fridge
Drew | 7:10pm
Still bringing beer
Me | 7:10pm
And good vibes
Drew | 7:10pm
And good vibes, of course
Me | 7:10pm
Gonna be good 😄
◇
The bell rings shortly past four o’clock, and Addie buzzes their guest in with a smile on her face. Marianne peeks from the kitchen, leaning over the corner, strands of her hair falling from underneath the headband-bun combo she’s sporting for the cooking.
‘Is it the celebrity judge?’
‘Sure is a judge,’ Addie says, unlocking the door. ‘Not so sure he’d like the celebrity title.’
The door opens and reveals a smiling Drew, in his usual attire – a simple grey tee with a Queen logo on it, black jeans, and a baseball cap. Greetings are exchanged, and then Drew’s taking his shoes off as Addie warns him that maybe Marianne might be a bit much today. There’s a casual whiff of cologne that Addie catches – it’s similar to Holden’s minty one, but simpler.
‘You ready to munch on some British-French-American-Hungarian goulash?’
He raises an eyebrow. ‘Is anyone ever ready for that?’
‘Nope. But Marianne has just called you the celebrity judge of her nonexistent cooking show, so you’ve got no choice but to be ready.’
‘Fair,’ he says, just as Marianne shouts from the kitchen, ‘I’ll have my cooking show soon!’
The self-proclaimed chef pops out of the kitchen, wielding a spatula covered in a dark red, thick liquid. Her red-and-white apron is tied haphazardly around her waist; both the apron and the sweatpants have already become victims to her cooking, and the bun seems to be getting looser by the minute. Marianne flashes the two a massive grin, one finger pointed at Drew.
‘Drew!’
‘Marianne!’
Her grin widens so much Addie’s worried it’ll rip her cheeks. She wiggles her finger, then, in a come here motion. ‘I need your goulash expertise, stat.’
‘Give the man a moment to breathe,’ says Addie. Next to her, Drew chuckles.
‘Do you want to enjoy the goulash?’
‘Yes?’
‘Then let the ones who can make it good do it and stay out of it.’ Marianne crosses her arms over her chest, and a drop of liquid falls off the spatula. She doesn’t even notice. ‘Drew?’
‘Coming right up, boss.’
With a pat on the back from Addie, Drew departs into the kitchen. Marianne is already listing off all the things that she’s put in the goulash, how she’s done it so far, and how the internet has told her needs to be done from now on. Addie tunes most of it out – while she thinks Marianne is one of the best cooks she’s ever met, after living with her for over a year, some things you can’t help but get used to and eventually, get a little bit tired of. She’s happy there’s Drew, though, because he’s either very interested in Marianne’s process and amused by her telling of it, or very good at pretending to be so.
Addie grabs a rather small box with a pink bow on it out of the hallway drawer, right next to a grey envelope, then makes her way to the stack of French books lying underneath the TV. The newest copy of a first-edition of The Unbearable Lightness of Being in French is lying on top of a photo album, the same one that Addie told Drew stories from the last time he was over here. She tucks it under her arm and brings it to the kitchen, which has a prominent smell of Marianne’s cooking – a lot of spices, some of them even scattered around with powder spilling out at the edges, and wine that’s both a part of the dish and accompanying Marianne and whoever’s keeping her company. This time it’s Drew, so instead of wine, there’s a can of White Claw in his hands. Addie chuckles to herself.
Marianne, huddled over the steaming pot, motions for Addie to come closer without looking. ‘How does this smell?’
‘I don’t know how a goulash is supposed to smell.’
‘Like that,’ Drew answers. ‘Stop worrying so much.’
‘If it can be better, I’ll make it better,’ replies Marianne, then asks him to contribute with some spices and then stir it. ‘If it goes badly, you made it. If it’s great, I made it.’
Drew laughed. It was a big kind of laugh, the one that fills out the entire room. Taking a seat at their modest dining table, Addie realised it’s been a while since anyone other than the two of them laughed so freely in this place. (That just made her miserable; she needs to stop focusing so much on work and her studies if she wants to retain a semblance of a social life.) She puts the album down, and places the box right underneath it – just enough to be noticeable.
‘Addie, you didn’t tell me your roommate is basically the female equivalent to Gordon Ramsay.’ Drew’s leaning against one of the cupboards, sipping his drink with a smile. Marianne elbows him in the shoulder, frowning.
‘The kids one, maybe. I don’t swear, that’s Addie’s job. She’s the sailor.’
‘Bitch,’ says Addie under her breath, feeling warmth creeping up into her cheeks as she smiles. ‘Calling me out like that.’
Marianne doesn’t look at her, but Addie hears her quiet giggle. ‘That’s a quarter.’
Addie sighs, and Drew lets out a chuckle that sounds a lot like oh. He probably figured out what the jar filled up with quarters is, and Addie thinks he’s finding it a little too amusing, so she says, ‘Don’t laugh.’
Of course, it doesn’t work.
‘That’s kind of funny, you’ve got to admit.’
‘No.’
He raises his eyebrows at her, not even trying to hide the smile. Addie calls him to look at the albums, after she places a quarter in the jar, because she can feel Marianne is about to side with him and go on a tirade where she makes fun of Addie’s bad habit – not that she minds, really, but she’d much rather see what Drew thinks of the photographs and his birthday present.
It ends up taking him a long time to notice it, which starts driving Addie nuts, but she wants him to be the one to notice it, because… Well. She doesn’t really have a reason.
They go through the photographs and Marianne is hovering over Drew’s shoulder, nearly dripping the goulash a few times onto the album, until Addie tells her that her goulash is burning (it isn’t) and she finally leaves the spatula where it belongs, before coming back to look. She likes the photos, and so does Drew – Addie had most of them developed, both from Waystone and the park they were in. Most of them were of the places, but there were a few of Drew. They weren’t the best quality, but his face was relaxed in them, and he was smiling with a playful glint in his eyes, and Addie liked them more than the ones where he looked like he was posing. (She developed those, too, but still hasn’t quite figured out where to put them. She’ll probably give them to him.) Good memories were made that day, and friendships cemented, too.
When he finally notices the box, his eyebrows shoot up. ‘Is this the present?’
Addie just nods and waits. She’s thankful that Marianne is humming along to the music while she stirs the pot, because it means that there’s no awkward silence while he carefully unwraps the bow, as if it would break if he tugged on it too hard. He opens it, finally, and laughs – Addie feels like he’s been laughing a lot more recently.
He holds the present in his hand, shaking his head. ‘A phone case. Really?’
‘Yep.’ Addie grins so hard she bites a little on the inside of her lip; what if he doesn’t like it? She pushes the thought away. ‘Can’t have us swapping our phones again.’
‘True. Although, it did end up in a pretty good thing.’
‘I guess it did, yeah.’
There’s a moment where they’re just staring at the phone case, as if it is about to start talking. Addie kind of wishes it would, and once again feels thankful for Marianne’s music. She doesn’t want to start reminiscing, but that’s where her brain is going, and suddenly she finds herself thinking about that summer morning where she was hungover and half-asleep when she met him and it feels weird that it’s been nearly six months since that. It feels like it was yesterday, but it feels like Drew’s always been around.
‘Mr. White Claw,’ he reads off the back of the matt case, amused. Addie’s pretty proud of herself for that one.
‘Nothing describes you better than that, basic white bitch.’ She smiles at him, and kicks him under the table so he’d look at her. ‘Happy birthday, dude.’
‘Thanks.’ He raises his can and waits until she raises hers, then says, ‘To swapping phones.’
Addie clinks the can against his. ‘And making friends.’
‘And putting another quarter in the jar. Don’t think I didn’t hear that.’
‘Marianne.’
‘Nu-uh.’ Marianne snaps her fingers, pointing first at Addie as she speaks, then Drew. ‘You, quarter in the jar, and now that the ceremony’s over, I need you back at the cooking station. The goulash ain’t gonna cook itself, mec.’
As Marianne says, the other two do. Addie is honestly just grateful she doesn’t have to be the one helping out in the kitchen, because as much as she enjoys cooking, Marianne’ demands get on her nerves sometimes. That, and Drew is actually enjoying helping her out. Addie gets to sit back and relax, listen to her friends make food and bond over the dishes they can make—turns out Drew is incredible at making his mum’s casserole recipe, and promises to bring it over someday—and she feels like she’s come a long way from being holed up in her room, studying and working. Even if sometimes it feels like nothing’s changed.
In between helping Marianne, Drew puts the phone case in its rightful place. It’s a bit cheesy, but Addie likes the thought that there’ll be a reminder of their friendship with him at all times, if he likes it as much as she thinks he does. It’s a bit silly, too. Addie likes giving and receiving presents that are more silly than useful, which is probably not the savvy and mature way to approach life.
Time wears on, and Addie includes herself every now and then, mostly just chilling on her phone as the two work towards what they claim is going to be a masterpiece. She highly doubts it, and it’s amusing whenever she voices her opinion and they try to argue otherwise. She likes to see them getting along – she’d never admit it, but as much as she knows and loves Marianne, a part of her was still scared he’d get the celebrity treatment. Now, she watches as Marianne threatens to throw goulash if he doesn’t cut the pepper faster, and she can only laugh.
Her phone chimes and there’s a text message displayed over Holden and Addie’s faces – a picture taken barely a week ago. They look happy together, and seeing it brings a smile to her face. As Addie texts back, Marianne ushers Drew away from the pot, finally taking over. Drew joins her at the table with a can of White Claw and a can of Heineken.
She puts her phone down and takes the Heineken with thanks. ‘Cooking time over?’
Drew nods. ‘The chef fired me. I think.’
‘Yeah,’ Addie laughs, ‘the chef tends to do that.’
To prove a point, Marianne gives them the finger, and says a whole sentence in French out of which Addie can only understand ‘merde’, and that is mostly because she turns around for that word, glaring at the two. Drew nearly chokes on his drink, and Addie just shrugs, because it’s Marianne, and no one can really understand Marianne. A conversation starts about photography and how Drew did mean to bring the camera, but he left it with Chase and Madelyn when he was visiting, and he ends up telling them stories from all the sets he’s been on.
When the bell chimes again, he’s the first one to notice, as he’s sitting not even a foot from the entrance into the kitchen. ‘Someone ringing?’
‘Oh, god, I forgot— Thanks!’
Addie makes a beeline for the hallway, giving her friends a quick ‘one moment!’ in lieu of an explanation. She’s at the front door within seconds and opens it with a smile, greeting her boyfriend with a hug, and a kiss on the cheek.
Holden chuckles, and then he’s giving her a brief kiss on the lips before they part. ‘Hello there. You had a bit to drink?’
‘A little,’ Addie says, feeling the heat in her cheeks. ‘I’m glad you stopped by.’
‘Me too.’ His hand falls from her waist and he takes a step back, looking around. ‘You’ve got the papers?’
Addie reaches into the drawer and takes the grey folder out of it, but doesn’t give it to him just yet. ‘I know you’re in a hurry, but Marianne is making enough goulash for a whole village, and Drew’s here, and I want to introduce you.’
‘He’s here?’ he asks, just at the same time as Marianne shouts from the kitchen, ‘WHO IS IT?’
In her defense, she thought it would’ve been a nice surprise for Holden to stop by and stick around for a little bit once he got what he came here for, and maybe chat to her friends for a few minutes. The idea might’ve been fine, but hearing Holden’s little sigh at the realisation and a guaranteed confusion from the two in the kitchen, it might’ve not been a fine surprise. This paired with Holden only meeting Marianne of her friends so far...
‘C’mon,’ she tells him, hoping to reassure herself just as much, and takes hold of his hand. ‘They don’t bite.’
Back in the kitchen, Marianne and Drew are leaning on the cupboards, both of them silent and waiting. Addie walkins into the kitchen first, and she watches their eyes follow her hand – the one which drags Holden in behind her. Marianne shouts his name and nearly leaps to hug him, while Drew remains at his spot, gnacing between the two having a quick catch-up and Addie, who tries to tell him not to worry in the form of a smile.
His eyes keep dropping back to their hands, intertwined, and she can see barely-concealed confusion on his face.
‘This is Holden,’ she says, now that Marianne isn’t hogging him anymore. ‘My boyfriend. Holden, this is Drew.’
They shake hands and exchange the ‘nice to meet you’s without anyone feeling the need to prove themselves to be the Alpha male, so Addie counts it as a win. Not that she thought either of them would do that – she just hasn’t seen Drew interact with anyone who wasn’t her or Marianne, and Drew is, after Marianne, the first person from Addie’s life Holden has gotten to meet.
The more she thinks of it, the more she realises how risky it was.
‘You’re the actor Drew, right?’
For a moment, Addie just watches Drew – his hands are crossed on his chest and he looks a little menacing, now that she tries to see him from Holden’s perspective. Tall and pretty attractive, pretty relaxed in a place he’s barely been to, and with the reputation of a successful actor – and to top it all off, a resting bitch face.
Addie’s heart skips a beat.
Drew laughs and she feels relief wash over her, instead. ‘Is that how she presents me to people?’
‘Drew, it’s literally how we met,’ she says, rolling her eyes at him from across the room. ‘How else am I supposed to explain how I know you?’
‘Fair.’
There’s a moment where the sizzling of the goulash is all that can be heard, but Addie doesn’t think it’s one of those heavy silences, where every person seems like they’re holding their breath. She takes it as a good sign.
Holden pats his thigh, then, and he has an apologetic face when he says, ‘I’ve got to go. Work won’t wait forever.’ He flashes Drew a smile. ‘Nice meeting you, Drew.’
‘You too.’
Addie sighs. ‘You just got here.’
He opens his mouth to say something, but Marianne is quicker: ‘You try this goulash, look me in the eye, and say you don’t want more of it.’ There’s no and then you can go, because Addie has a feeling Marianne knows pretty well just how good the goulash is.
She commands the room as she approaches Holden with the tiniest bit of goulash steaming from the spatula over her hand. Her eyes are determined and there’s a crook in the corner of her lips – the sly kind of smile when she knows she’s already won. Holden doesn’t get a chance to protest, because the spatula is headed for him, and he’s got nothing to do but take it.
The room holds a breath. Even Drew is looking at Holden in expectation, chin resting on the palm of his hand.
For a bit, Holden just coughs and complains about the hotness (Marianne argued he had to have been blind to not see that it was steaming). Once he’s finally back to normal breathing and side-eyeing Addie for giggling at him, he tells Marianne it’s one of the best things he’s ever tasted.
Addie could swear she could see pride and self-satisfaction through Marianne’s eyes.
‘Now that Holden is staying,’ says Addie, ‘can the rest of us have some, too?’
‘Yes, ma’am,’ replies Marianne, with a newfound spring in her step, grace in the way she moves. Drew laughs at her, quietly, and Addie finds herself laughing with him.
Marianne brings out the goulash and Addie helps pour it into the bowls, handing each of them one. The chef ends up taking Addie’s chair, on Addie’s insistence, because what does she deserve after all these hours other than enjoying her efforts in peace? So Addie leans on the counter, ignoring Marianne’s protests that it’s dirty (‘These shorts need to go into the wash anyway’) and savours the food. It’s unbelievably good – Drew even comments at one point that it’s as good as the one his Hungarian neighbour made, if not better. Marianne glows after each compliment, so Addie doesn’t really stop giving them. Even as the conversation goes on, and Holden stays a little longer than planned, they keep sprinkling in nice comments about the goulash whenever they can.
Addie’s glad Holden and Drew are here for this, however unplanned it was.
Holden slaps his thigh again, in the very same manner with the very same look on his face and this time, Addie catches herself right before she laughs. ‘I’ve really got to go now,’ he says, getting to his feet. ‘Work calls.’
He walks up to Addie and she smiles at him, elbowing him gently in the ribs. ‘That’s okay, Mr. Workaholic. We understand.’
She thinks maybe she’s pushing it, but Holden smiles and reaches the other side of her waist, tickling just enough so that she groans for him to stop. ‘You’ve got it just as bad as I do,’ he tells her, and she can’t argue.
‘Wait, Holden.’ Marianne twirls her spoon in front of her space, brow furrowed, and a distant look on her face. ‘Can I ask you lot a personal question?’
‘Marianne—’
‘Don’t worry about it, Addie. I won’t bother them too much.’
Marianne does give her a reassuring smile, or what’s meant to be one, because Addie doesn’t feel particularly reassured. The girl, for all the love Addie holds for her, really has a thing for pushing the limits and boundaries without meaning to. Addie sinks into herself, arms crossed on her chest with Holden’s hand still resting on her waist, and hopes Marianne picks her approach carefully. Addie might know her well enough, but Drew and Holden don’t.
‘Sure,’ says Drew, leaning back in his chair. ‘What is it?’
Instead of responding, he looks at Holden until he agrees to it, too. She takes a deep breath, then, and gives them the shaky kind of confident smile as her fingers fix up her bun. ‘How important are romantic things in a relationship to guys?’
Addie resists dropping her head in her hands. She just sighs. Glares a little.
Lets it all unfold.
The hand on Addie’s waist moves a little, with no purpose. She can hear Holden breathe more deeply, as he always does when he’s trying to crack a problem. Drew, on the other hand, frowns; his eyes stare out of the window, the distance noticeable in them. Part of Addie wishes the question was never asked – part of it is as glad that it wasn’t bad as it is honest that maybe, Addie is curious about the answers, too.
‘Probably shouldn’t ask Holden that while Addie’s around,’ jokes Drew.
‘Ha-ha. Very funny.’
Drew looks at her and shrugs, a smile peeking through. (Addie found it a little bit funny and he can see it.) He sighs a little and scratches the place above his eyebrow, glancing at Marianne. ‘What kind of romantic things are we talking about?’
‘I don’t know.’ Marianne waves her hand in a vague motion, then lets it go back to fiddling with the bun. ‘Um, dates, quality time together, gifts or flowers or whatever, that romantic sappy kind of shite.’
‘It depends, then,’ Holden says, voice deep and laced in thought, just as Drew speaks with confidence, ‘Very important.’
Drew chuckles and Holden smiles, too, but Marianne doesn’t look very reassured, so Drew leans forward in the chair, placing his elbows on the table with his hands crossed. ‘Look, it depends on the guy, yeah, but most guys like the romantic stuff. Going on dates, getting flowers and chocolates, candlelit dinners and just spending quality time together is a big deal. Not having that is just kind of… I don’t know.’
Marianne nods. She’s looking at Drew as if she were soaking his words like a sponge, and not one that likes them.
‘I don’t really agree,’ says Holden, after letting out a little ‘hmmm’ sound. ‘I mean, it really depends on the guy, but also the partner. Look at Addie and I – we spend most of our time together at work, or doing work, and it’s something we love doing so the time we spend together doing that is what we’d consider quality time, right? And you don’t— We don’t need all that romantic stuff. If you know someone likes you, there’s no need to constantly show it. If it works already.’
Addie just stares at the ground. All eyes are on her, now, even if not physically – she can just feel the attention on her. Does she agree? Yes, for the most part, and it’s not her Marianne is asking this time. They’ve already spoken about this. Marianne knows Addie enjoys the approach she and Holden have with the relationship.
When she finally looks up, she catches Drew’s eyes for a moment, and then they’re gone before she can read them. ‘Well,’ he says, ‘I guess it depends on your relationship and your boyfriend, then.’
‘My friend’s.’ Marianne nods with a smile that looks like it’s about to slip off. ‘I’m asking for a friend.’
Drew leans back. ‘Sure, yeah. I hope your friend manages to sort it out.’
Marianne thanks him, then makes a joke about the goulash being finger-licking, and within moments everything’s as if there wasn’t just a serious conversation. A little later, Addie walks Holden out, receiving a gentle kiss on the lips before he leaves. Drew sticks around for a little while longer and when Marianne invites Drew to their group’s annual Fourth of July party (very exclusive), Addie feels like it’s another unpredictable-Marianne moment she should’ve foreseen.
For better or worse, though, Drew shakes his head with a little sigh. ‘Thanks for the invitation, but I’ve already booked a flight home.’
‘Oh.’ Marianne nods, not even trying to hide her disappointment. ‘Shame. We throw the best parties around Atlanta.’
Drew chuckles, tugging his jacket sleeves over his arms. ‘I don’t doubt that for a second. I’ll catch one of them, at some point.’
‘Yeah. You should.’
Addie is leaning against the wall, watching them talk about their plans for the Fourth of July, and realises she’s happy that Holden’s met Drew. She’s happy he’s integrating into her friend group, at least bit by bit. It kind of makes everything more real; more permanent. Later, she finds out from Marianne that Drew messaged her, thanking her for the goulash experience. When she’s lying in bed, thinking about all the work she needs to do tomorrow because she slacked off today, a thought pops up: Marianne’s birthday is going to be soon, and that is bound to be a wholesome party.
Addie falls asleep with a smile on her face.
◇
19: THANKFUL
tagging. (let me know if you want to be tagged!) @jjmaybanksbaby @ofpinkfizz @snkkat @drewswannabegirl @yeslifeofateen @rudypnkw @stfukie @x-lulu @drewstarkey @butgilinsky @solllaris @hyperactive2411 @chasefreakinstokes @surferkie @jroseron @k-k0129 @starlightstories @rafecameron
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You Right I
WARNINGS: RAPE, SEX TRAFFICKING, DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, FORCED PREGNANCY, MISCARRIAGE. I WILL HAVE TRIGGERING SCENES MARKED. NOT FOR THE FAINT OF HEART AND MINORS, GO READ SOMETHING ELSE.
2018
“Ethan….you know this isn’t right...Ryan is waiting for me at home...it’s our…” She whimpered as his hands traveled along her curves as he teased her, kissing down her neck. “Tesoro, we both know, what you want is not him.” He nipped at her ear as he slid his hand underneath her shirt as he pulled at her lace straps. Ethan pulled off her shirt, biting his lip as marveled at her lace covered breasts. He knew that boy wasn’t treating she wanted, she wanted to be treated like a princess, worshipped and loved, but in private, Ethan made sure that Y/N was his submissive, only here for his pleasure only and she loved that, he can just say hello and she’ll come crawling to him.
Y/N let her head fall back as she watched their bodies through the mirror on the ceiling, shuddering to the sight above them. Ethan’s tongue roamed her body as he slipped his hands in the matching thong. “Pay attention to me, tesoro.” With that, he tore the flimsy material from her body, dropping the shreds as he dropped her onto the bed, “Ethan, those were expensive!” He scoffed, tossing his shirt to the side as he climbed between her legs, which she quickly tried to close them. “Ethan..” “You want me, we’ve done this multiple times already, what’s stopping you now?” “Ryan proposed to me!” Ethan stopped in his tracks, thoroughly confused as he sat back. “What do you mean by that? You’re going to marry that coglione!?” She gawked at him, hitting his leg. “He’s not a fucker! He’s kind and he’s going to treat me right!” He pinched the bridge of his nose, cursing before he climbed out, grabbing his shirt.
“...Y/N, I’ll back off, go live your little fantasy life with Ryan. I’m more so pissed off that you weren’t going to stop this, were you?” He asked, looking down at her, absolutely disgusted. “You know that I love you and I would do anything for you, but this is a slap on the face.” Y/N rolled her eyes as she grabbed her clothes, shaking her head. “Why are you making this about you? You’ve been coming onto me and-” “And you haven’t stopped me, you’ve pushed me into closets, begging me to gag you on my cock,” He hovered over her as his dark eyes locked onto hers,”screaming me for me to fuck you with an audience. You seek me out more than I do, so tell me, what are you going to do when he can’t scratch that itch you have? Finger yourself at the thought of me, using you like a cheap whore. Am I wrong?”
Y/N looked the other way, knowing the truth as she was going to speak up, her phone rang. Future Hubby. ‘Babe, where are you? We have reservations tonight at that really fancy place…’ She began to dress herself, mindlessly agreeing with whatever he was saying. “Baby, I’m sorry, I’ve just been busy with work and you know my boss is trying to promote me…” Ethan rolled his eyes as he leaned on his bed, looking through his messages as he was determined to get laid tonight. He brushed back his long, luscious locks before looking back up at Y/N, narrowing his eyes at her. “Why are you still here? Unless you want to watch me fuck some random girl.” She quickly made her exit as she rubbed her eyes, not wanting to cry for a man.
Why am I crying over a man? I should be happy that I’m getting married to someone who I could trust with all my heart. She also felt extremely guilty, her hands weren’t clean as well, but she honestly thought that this was just going to be fling between her and Ryan. He wasn’t looking for anything serious, that's what she thought too until her parents gave her an ultimatum, find a decent boy and I’ll pay for your studies abroad and 4 years later, still with Ryan, he wasn’t a bad, just little bland and vanilla for her liking. She liked men like Ethan, who wasn’t afraid of pushing boundaries and trying new things and her father obviously didn’t care for Ethan.
To him, Ethan was a manwhore and had no redeemable qualities, he was just drummer in a band who loved to fuck and he didn’t his daughter failing prey to that. She quickly took a cab to their shared apartment, sighing as she set her things down. “Love? I’m home…” She trailed off, seeing him in the living room, sipping on a glass of wine. “Why aren’t you ready yet? I thought we had reservations-” “I cancelled them, I didn’t feel like going out anymore, not after what I know.” He tossed a thick envelope onto the coffee table as he carefully watched her. “Do you want to explain this...affair that you’ve been having behind my back for sometime now.” She swallowed nervously as she shuffled on her feet. “You can’t, can you? You’re just some slutty whore, who opens their legs out for anyone, don’t you? Maybe I can use that to my advantage, pimp you out and profit off you.” She rapidly shook her head no, slowly backing up as he stood. “No, I think I will, if not, I’ll send your precious daddy, every photo and video of you being a slut.”
“You wouldn’t dare, you simultaneously fuck yourself over too! M-My father-” Ryan backhanded her, rolling his eyes as he looked down at her. He watched as she started to cry, holding herself. “Don’t feel sorry for yourself, sweetheart. You caused this, you couldn’t be satisfied with what I gave you. Now, you’re going to be daddy’s good little girl and you're going to do everything I say. Y/N’s stomach fell in horror as she could only think of the possibilities that he was going to do to her, she tried scrambling to her feet, but Ryan was faster as he grabbed her hair, yanking her up. “You’re going to do what I say and you’re going to do it with no complaints.”
Ethan sighed as he pushed some random girl off of him, climbing out of bed as he walked to the bathroom. He tied his long hair in a bun, washing his face. He was serious about not contacting her, he wanted her to choose who she wanted and not play around his feelings. “I had fun last night, we should do it again.” He narrowed his eyes at the woman, shrugging off her hands as he faced her. “I don’t even know your name and I really don’t give a fuck.” She gasped as he pushed past her, getting ready for rehearsals. Once he stepped into the studio, he sighed as Y/N wasn’t there, she hasn’t been here in the past three months. “So we’re close to releasing our first album and we need to start really focusing in and producing like it’s our last thing. We’re gonna have to be in the studio more often than not, probably pulling all nighters. That goes for you Ethan, just slow down on the groupies, I know you and Y/N are going through a rough patch, but I’m going to need you to focus.”
Ethan just nodded as he stepped into the booth, grabbing his practice drumsticks. It was obvious that he was bothered by Damiano’s comment, he knew that Damiano picked up on his feelings for her and watched him do nothing about it, loving to throw it up in his face, every single time. “Dude, why do you do that?” Thomas questioned, giving him a side look. “You always comment on Y/N, maybe he doesn’t want to hear about her. Her snobby husband always has her on his arm, anywhere they go. Why remind him that he lost a good thing?” Damiano sputtered as he tried to deny his dickish attitude towards him. “Look, I know he’s still missing Y/N, but it’s been like six weeks, almost 2 months. Is the pussy that good?” “Damiano, please stop watching American TV, let’s just start recording, before we get too distracted.” Vic pushed everyone else in, closing the door behind them.
------------------------BAD STUFF, NO READ IF UPSETTING-------------------------------------------------------------------------
“Y/N, suck harder and stop using your teeth.” She flinched as she was abused by her “client” as Ryan watched, stroking himself. Ryan chuckled as he watched, licking his lips. He thought he was a genius, he preyed on her vulnerabilities and used her to where no one would believe her. “How much for her pussy?” The sleazy man croaked, reaching for her thong. “I have a suitcase for about ten thousand as a downpayment.” Ryan’s eyebrow arched up as he glanced over at the suitcase. “And if you allow me to cum in her, I’ll add another 30 thousand onto it.” Y/N looked between the two, growing nervous as she wiggled her way to the door. “...Add 20 thousand and you can do anything you want with her, just don’t kill her.” Ryan smirked as Y/N was pulled onto her face as the man forced his way inside of her. “God, her pussy feels so fucking good.” Y/N sobbed as she tried kicking him, just trying to stop this torture and the stranger shoved her face in the pillows.
Ryan sighed as his phone ranged, groaning as he answered it. “Ryan McGower, this has better be important.” “Hi, Mr. McGower, I saw your wife’s….interesting ad and I was wondering if she could handle..more extreme intercourse.” Ryan watched as she thrashed about, sobbing as she looked into his eyes. He could end this with one word, but she damaged him, what did Ethan Torchio have that he didn’t have? “Darling? Did you ever love that bastard?” Y/N gave him a confused look, shaking her head. “Who are you even talking about?” “Of course she can, I’m the one who’s training her. She can and will take everything you give her.”
She whimpered, cringing at her drenched panties, crying as she felt the man finally come inside of her. “Holy fuck, that’s some good pussy right there, I may have to come by later.” He smirked as he pulled apart her lower lips as they watched the cum slowly flow and drip out onto the floor. “She’s not on contraceptives or has that implant?” “No, I got them removed awhile back,” Y/N wanted to throw up, she quickly rushed to the bathroom, regurgitating the small breakfast that she had. She held the toilet as she silently cried, wanting this nightmare to end.
--------------------------BAD STUFF OVER-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ethan wanted to go home, this large crowd wasn’t helping his mood and he just wanted to go home and drink in the privacy of his own home. darling.y/n - last online 4 months ago Shutting his phone off as he tried to ignore that gnawing feeling that was eating at his stomach. “Dude, are you okay? You keep scaring off girls.” Thomas asked, shouted as he slipped in next to him. “Is it about Y/N?” Ethan finally had enough, wanting to scream this at the top of his lungs. “Yeah, it is, I’m in love with her and I just miss her so fucking much, she hasn’t kept in touch with me, so I don’t know if she’s doing okay. I’m just concerned because something doesn’t feel right and I can’t put it together.” Thomas blankly stared at him, shaking his head. “Dude, just go to her house, fuck her husband. What’s the worst could he do? Move halfway around the globe?”
Ethan jumped out of the taxi as he rushed to Y/N’s front door, quickly knocking on it. He started ringing the doorbell impatiently before a strange woman poked her head out the door, shaking her head no before handing him an elegant note.
For those who are wondering, the missus and I are going to our second home to celebrate our first pregnancy and we would like for any inquiries to go through our assistant before you attempt to personally contact us. If you would like to send us any baby needs, you can do so to this address.
-From the McGowers
The mysterious lady snatched it from his hands before shutting the door unlocking it, Ethan sighed as he kicked a pole, frustrated with himself. ‘A baby? Is that what she wanted, a family, we could’ve….’ He stopped as he realized that it wouldn’t have worked out, he would be traveling too much and he couldn’t ask his bandmates to accommodate a screaming baby. “Fuck that, I want to hear this out of her own words, if she’s happy, then i’m happy and i’ll call it a day.” He headed back to his apartment, dialing Damiano as he fast walked, ignoring the strange looks thrown at him. “Damiano, you have a bigger social circle than me and you probably rub elbows with rich people on a daily basis. I need you to find where Y/N’s second home is. I have a bad feeling about this.”
Damiano looked at his phone on the other line, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Mio caro amico(My dear friend), you need to let her go, she’s married now, has a husband now and she’s probably going to have a child soon. Why are you going to stop her happiness?” “Damiano, she wasn’t happy when she got married, you saw those wedding photos, she looked miserable as fuck in them.” Damiano sighed, pushing his partner off of him as he sat up. “If I help you and we find an answer, any answer whether you like it or not, we’re going to stop searching for her, okay?” “....Okay.”
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2020.12.16 The World You Live In at Zepp Nagoya, 2nd event report
For this one I was sitting in the last row on the 2nd floor😂 but the view was good, especially when watching the live footage.
This time Takabayashi also joined, he sat on the left, and we again got Die and Toshiya, with Fujieda on the right who again acted as the MC.
F again started the talk with the topic of the show without audience and Ochita. He asked band members about the flow of working on the songs, which to choose, how they decided to go with a song like that for a single. D replied that they make many songs for albums, when they work on the singles they want them to connect somehow, and he thinks they were able to do that.
T: what he said.
(true mastery of short answers aka no answers😂)
Next F again brought the merch items, saying he was wearing Die's mask, he liked it black.
D: it's a mask you can wear easily.
F: (struggling) ne...si...cessity.
D: again.
F: necessity.
(just leave him alone😂)
D: some people might find girls wearing black masks scary, so I added a bright element (to make it easier to wear).
(...but one of them says HURT???😂)
D: Ta(kabayashi), can you say 'necessity'?
Ta: not gonna play this game.
Then they laughed a bit about 'ビッグピックキーホルダー・biggu pikku・big pick'
T: which colour is the rare one?
F: I think they're all same.
T: how can you use it?
F: attach it to your bag etc I guess? You should know as a producer!
T: I guess I will use it as my pick at our next show.
F also brought items produced by other members, handing Shinya's bottle to T.
F: S also posted video promoting it on his instagram. It's really tiny.
T: how many of those I can drink in one day? (?)
D: but it is a perfect size for a bag.
Then F handed the pouch produced by Kaoru to D.
D: I guess masks can fit in, pick keychains can fit in, bottle can fit in, anything can fit in. 😂
F: there are 5 different merch items,please get them all.
After this it was time for the questions submitted by fans again.
D: ok, got one, from Kumi-san...
F: Tommy-san?
D: what? Why would you bring the boss up? It's from Kumi-san from Kagawa. 'please tell us your memory from Kagawa'.
F: we went there on tour last September.
D: Takamatsu, right? I remember I was watching TV at the hotel, not going for dinner... ah no, I got a take out, chicken, a big one, I was eating it alone.
F: what about you, T?
T: hmmm, I guess udon?
F: you eat udon a lot.
T: I eat everything. It was good then.
F told a story about playing around when waiting for band members to get ready to leave (Kaoru), he imitated Shinya playing drums. He said it was very embarrassing so he remembers it very clearly. Did S upload a video of that on his Channel?
T: 'please tell us your good and bad points of Fujieda'. He can eat anything, everything tastes good for him? As for bad points, everything tasted good for him?
(everyone laughed)
D joked that instead of getting 'good point' (like a grade at school) he has more 'passable points'.
D: 'can you tell us about your outfits today? I noticed that Toshiya's socks are very cute!'
T got surprised people noticed something like that, his red socks. F said that most likely a fan who attended the 1st slot noticed and sent that question.
T: I received them, they are just red checkered socks.
Ta: 'what kind of bath salts do you use?'
D: recently I don't use any (then he joked about the smell of old guys at the gym?)
T: I don't really use it.
They teased F for playing with the foam in the bath.
Then D talked about some gel type bath Kaoru recommended him, at Fukuoka during the tour in the past (?)
Ta commented that when hot the water in Tokyo smells. Water in the countryside like Nagano is better quality.
F: 'what song did you listen to the most during pandemic? It can be an artist.'
D: Kimetsu one?
F: 'Kousui' is also played everywhere.
they also said they listen to dir songs. D said he listens to the setlists from the audiostreams and T and he joked a lot about not remembering some of the older songs, like 'we made this??'😂 they also talked about the flow of songs.
T: 'how did you decide the members for each venue?'
Ta: I thought about many factors before deciding.
F: basically Ta decided it.
Ta: I thought about who should go where, who to pair together, about who went to which event in the past.
D: I remember we had some event at a department store in Nagoya.
T: at Parco, there was a signing event at Tower Records. At the same time there was an event I liked? ...no one knows it? Sorry, I guess you're all too young, there's a generation gap here.
😂
T: 'do you have any plans for shows next year?'
They explained that the situation is not looking good and shows have big chance being postponed.
F: but we are thinking about the things we can do. But those two people definitely want to play a concert.
T: this many people are waiting so we have to.
D talked about getting out of Tokyo and ??
Ta: 'it suddenly got really cold. Could you tell us any stories about snow or cold weather?' (he added joking) Nagano stories?
T: you think you're funny.
F: but I love oyaki (it's famous in Nagano stuffed dumpling, grilled).
T: I saw a cockroach for the first time only when I went to Tokyo and then Kyoto. Nagano is too cold for them.
F: Hakkaido too.
(Toshiya, I really feel ya, I've only encountered roaches after I came to Japan💀)
they talked about fighting with them, D used something to immobilize them (???)
T: they are so big. When we filmed Clever Sleazoid video I just stepped on one.
F (laughing): went 'kyaaaa' and stepped on it!
T also talked about the old story when they just started a band and they came to Nagano to meet T, there was a lot of snow then and all band members got super excited because of it, starting to play in snow. T's mother took a photo of them, that photo is still at T's home at Nagano.
F: who was driving then?
T: Aki-san, from the previous company.
D: I didn't know it gets all snowy like that.
Then they talked about old simple phones without cameras and cameras they used, heavy bricks.
T: sorry, generation gap again.
F: what happened to the 'cold' topic? Why roaches???
Ta: we can do 2 more questions.
T: F, why did you ???
F told us a story about almost being in a traffic accident on a highway driving from Nagoya when suddenly their tyre got a hole, but thanks to his super special technique he could stop the car.
D: how long was this whole situation?
F: one minute. Thanks to my special technique.
they also talked about Shinya driving😂
Next, T: 'why did F use a name Rei with ShibireBajiru (band where F's played drums)? Question from Toshiya from Tokyo'
😂
But F's explanation was about the image names have and that Rei has a strong image. About which T and D teased him a lot.
As the last question they talked about alarm clocks, 'can you wake up without alarm clock?'
D: recently I can.
T: I can wake up when I can wake up.
F: ...so when you can't you can't?
T: ...(be quiet you)
D: so what time do you wake up?
T: 4 or 5, then I work.
D wakes up around 6~7
Extra question, F: 'what's your fav nabe (hot pot)?'
D: nabe?
F: for me it's motsunabe (offal hot pot). That place in Fukuoka.
T: you prefer miso type? Or soy sauce?
F: in the past Shinya gave me a very firm 'I don't need any of the miso one', he was so angry about food😂
F talked about the additional event online again and the announced video with virtual characters the previous day. Filming was done a bit earlier.
T: it was unexpectedly fun.
F: let's spend New Year Eve together.
Last comments.
Die: thanks for comming to the event, especially in such a cold weather. This was a safe way, the situation is not good, we can't hold shows at the moment, we want to make songs and work on the next album.
Toshiya: thank you for coming on a cold day. I'd like to say what I want, but it's hard because of this situation. The band is searching for the things we can do. Please wait for us. Next year, I want to stand on the stage in front of you (at a concert).
D asked T for the red version of the pick to take photo with it. He took it to his spot at kamite area, adding 'next year I will use it'.
(Die mobile members probably will get to enjoy that photo?)
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Tech Wizard
*School is kicking my ass but I finally caught a break! Gonna pump out as many requests as my dumb brain can muster while I can!*
Prompt: Modern reader with modern tech amazes our Lost Boy. Also some cute fluffy flustered reader cause I couldn’t help myself.
Requested by: anon
Warnings: none
~~~
Being of the modern era on an island with absolutely no modern technology--let me rephrase--being on an island with no technology outside of rope pulleys and ladders is horrifying. I am a girl that is used to having things such as wi-fi and smartphones and electricity and indoor plumbing! Now I am on an island that doesn’t so much as have an outhouse!
But I can manage. I am fine. Because despite this place having no technology like cellphone towers or outlets electronics still work. Because time doesn’t move or whatever my phone battery never dies and I have full bars and service everywhere I go. It’s actually amazing.
It was me flashing my tech that kept me from getting locked in a cage my first night on Neverland. The Lost Boys were amazed and Peter Pan especially was intrigued by my technology. The first night on the island was spent with me sitting down with him showing him everything my smartphone could do.
“And if you tap this icon it’ll open the camera.” I pressed the camera button. “See?”
“Fascinating. The last time I saw a camera it was this huge contraption with this bright burst of light and a bulb. Yet you can take pictures just with this hunk of glass and metal?”
“Cool right?” I showed him how to zoom in and out. “Oh and if you swipe the screen like this it’ll open the front facing camera. That way you can take selfies.”
“Selfies?” Peter asked, confused.
“Yeah, they’re picture you take of yourself. Here, let me show you. Scoot in closer so you can see both our faces in the screen.” I pressed my cheek against his to get out faces to fit. “Say cheese!”
I took the picture and pulled it up in the gallery. “See? And this is the gallery where you can look at all the other pictures you’ve taken.”
“The quality is amazing. Who are these other people in the your gallery?” He asked as he scrolled through the other images.
“Oh, those are just old friends I lost contact with after I moved.” It was sad seeing all their faces again.
“And this one?” he clicked on a picture of me kissing my ex’s cheek. “You seem rather close with this particular friend.”
“Ex-boyfriend. Things didn’t end well.” I took the phone back. “I know I should have deleted the photos by now but I just haven’t gotten around to it.”
As if sensing that the subject was making me uncomfortable he asked what other features my phone had. I was glad for the distraction and brought up my music app. “It’s basically like having a music box with hundreds of thousands of songs at your fingertips. Here’s a good one.”
I clicked on Man with the Hex. Maybe I should have started with something softer but honestly since stepping onto this island it was all I could think of. Well that and Somewhere In Neverland. I wonder how he would react if I told him about the songs and movies Peter had inadvertently inspired.
“What other music do you have?” Peter asked.
“Tons. I basically got a little bit of everything. There are some songs inspired by the fictional you that I told you about. Did you want to hear one?”
“Songs? What else has this fictional counterpart of mine inspired?”
“A stage play, tv shows, a couple of movies. The animated one is a classic and hilarious but the 2003 live action film is just so wholesome and innocent.”
“Did you refer to me as wholesome and innocent?”
“Well, your fictional counterpart is a kid not a teenager. I’d say he’s at max maybe twelve or thirteen years old when they show him in films.”
“I see...”
“If I can get my hands on a projector we could set up a movie night and I could show you guys one of the movies. I think everyone would get a kick out of it.”
“Sounds like fun.”
“I can’t wait.” Peter and I sat there all night as I played him different songs and we played app games. I started to fall asleep but he still wanted to play with my phone so I handed it over for him to use while I caught a couple hours of shut eye.
I woke up a couple hours later to soft music playing near my ear. The surface I was sleeping on was also a lot softer than I remember falling asleep on. I peeked my eyes open and noticed that at some point I had slumped over and fallen asleep on Peter’s lap.
“Hey, sorry for falling asleep on you.” I yawned. “Still having fun?”
“Yes. It is a fascinating piece of technology.”
“I know.” I realized what song he was playing and smiled. “I see you found my Disney playlist.”
“Disney?”
“Movie company. They’re the people that made that animated feature I told you about.” I sat up, “I don’t have any movies saved on my phone but I can pull it up on YouTube. Give me a second.” I took the phone back and looked up the song he had been listening to.
Cause of course it had to be Kiss the Girl. I wonder how Peter would react to seeing a movie that portrayed mermaids as nice instead of the vicious killers Neverland has.
I started the video and watched him as he watched the video. It was like watching a little kid. He was so impressed by things I thought were so commonplace. “And this was all hand drawn?”
“Yep. Cool, right?”
“Very.”
Our eyes met and my heart leapt into my throat. He was a lot closer than I thought. I could practically feel his breath on my face.
Yes, you want her
Look at her, you know you do
Possible she want you too, there is one way to ask her
It don't take a word, not a single word
Go on and kiss the girl
Why couldn’t I have played Poor Unfortunate Souls or Circle of Life? Why did I have to put on this song? It was giving me ideas I don’t think I should be having.
Look like the boy too shy
He ain't gonna kiss the girl
Sha-la-la-la-la-la, ain't that sad?
Ain't it a shame? Too bad
He gonna miss the girl
It was only made all the worse by the fact that he wouldn’t stop staring at me now.
Now's your moment
Floating in a blue lagoon
Boy, you better do it soon, no time will be better
She don't say a word and she won't say a word
Until you kiss the girl
He looked at me with a smirk. “Is it true?”
“Hm?” I didn’t trust myself to speak at that moment.
“Are you not gonna say a word until I kiss you?” His grin grew wider and my panic grew deeper.
“No. No, I can talk.” I stammered out. “I was just--you know what? I never showed you how to record videos on this. Check this out.” I quickly closed the app and opened the camera again. “See, we click this button and when he tap the center button now it’ll record.”
“It records anything?” He asked with that same mischievous smile of his.
“Yeah. Sure does.”
“That could come in very handy. Let me see.” He took the phone and aimed it at us to record. “There is something that I’d like to hold onto.”
“What’s that?”
“Your flustered face.” He pecked my cheek and my mouth dropped open.
“Peter!”
“And now I have that face forever!” he laughed as he played the video back. “You are going to have to bring more of this stuff over, my little technology wizard. I want to have much more fun with these devices.”
“Yeah. Sure.” I nodded furiously. “I’ll be sure to get right on that. There are tons of movies and video games I think you guys would really like. I could also bring over some flashlights. They’re like torches but they won’t set stuff on fire. Who knows, I might even bring over a karaoke machine. I think that would be really funny to witness.”
“Whatever you say.” Peter lounged back. “Now explain to me what a karaoke machine is.”
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One Photo → Mark Lee [8]
↳ Pairing: Mark Lee/Reader
↳ AU: Soulmate!AU - The first touch of two soulmates permanently scars their bodies.
↳ Warning: angst if you squint, I guess
↳ Word count: 2,294
↳ Chapters: Prelude | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | You Are Here! | 9
⁙ Summary: For an end of the year photography project, you’re tasked with taking a photograph for your favourite group, NCT127, and coincidentally, discover your soulmate.
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WEDNESDAY - 8 TWO YEARS LATER
The heart of Toronto would never compare to the magnificence of Times Square in New York, but the mass amount of billboards by the Eaton Center always managed to send you into awe during your nightly trek home from work.
You looked up toward the billboards with a sigh as you waited for your streetcar, barely managing to squeeze out a smile as you saw Mark’s visage splayed along one of the electronic spaces. The night sky was too polluted with the city’s light to display any real stars, but Mark’s face was more than enough for you. For the past week, you had seen NCT127’s faces sprawled across that billboard, part of promotions for their latest global comeback. It was a brief respite as you waited for your streetcar home every night, to finally know that the day was over and that you could relax.
It had been such a long time since you’ve seen Mark in person. Even though you texted him every day when the two of you were awake at the same time and video chatted whenever he had five minutes to himself, it always felt depressing to be without him. To not kiss or touch or hug at all was torture.
Everyone knew that it was deadly for soulmates to be apart for so long, that depression would set in and even worse physical illnesses were a real risk. It was hard to be so far away and over the past year you had been let go from multiple jobs because you were constantly sick, and therein lies the problem. You simply couldn’t afford the solution to your problem. So, depression and illness it was. It took everything you had to keep your head above water, to keep your dream alive and know that one day your heart wouldn’t ache as much as it does at the present moment.
After a 20 minute ride on the streetcar, you entered your building and took the stairs up to your little hole-in-the-wall apartment, the bare minimum that you could afford after Rhiannon paid her last half of the old place’s rent. A single bed, bath and a tiny kitchen that housed a little chair and round table. Thankfully, there was enough counter space that you could place a tiny TV to watch Netflix on while you ate. You were lucky that the house had a large living room, which doubled as your studio.
The coffee table was one of the only things left from your old apartment, along with the tote of Marvel films you kept hidden below it. Atop the table now rested all of your cameras, a drawing tablet and cards that you got in the mail from Mark from time-to-time, instead of notes, binders and textbooks. Sitting against the wall across from the table was a small bookshelf and an easel with a large frame sitting on it, housing the last portrait you finished the night before, ready to be shipped to the buyer.
After… somewhat enjoying a quick pot of white cheddar mac & cheese and watching a rerun of Supernatural on your little TV, you head into your room and sit at the desk next to your bed. After starting your computer, you opened up discord and sat back in your wheely chair, waiting for Rhiannon’s status to change to green. Wednesday was the day that she had to be up early for her job, so that meant time for a 10-minute call before you went to bed and she went to work.
Next to your computer was a copy of the photo you took two years ago, of your soulmate and all his friends beneath the shedding cherry trees in High Park. You smiled at it, the memory was fond but now faint in your mind. You reached forward to pick it up, but you stopped yourself. You knew that if you inspected the photo more, you’d only miss Mark and all your friends more.
There were times where your apartment became so quiet that it reminded you how alone you really were. You had lived with Rhiannon most of your life, and that meant there was at least some noise going on at all times. Whether she had her headset unplugged when she was listening to music or watching youtube videos, she was clattering about when helping you wash and dry the dishes, or if she was walking around and tripped on nothing. She was always talking, laughing, or doing something that always let you know that she was there. Now, you had nothing.
The silence is broken and you’re startled by the calling sound from discord, Rhiannon’s icon popping up on the top of your screen. You place your hand on your mouse and click the join call button, adjusting the webcam perched on the top of your desktop monitor.
"Hey," Rhiannon was the first to speak, yawning and reaching back to pull her hair into a perfect, tight ponytail.
"Hey," you respond, watching her closely and leaning your chin on your right palm. "How are you holding up?"
"I should be asking you that, Jesus, you look like the Hulk if he got the swine flu," she retorts, and even through the grainy quality you can tell she has sympathy written all over her face. "I'm doing great, we've got two cleanings today and a wisdom teeth removal, so that'll be fun."
You scoff and attempt to smile, "I'm fiiiiine, other than the fact that I'm here and you're there, 13 hours in the future and at least one ocean in between us and an entire continent and a half. I'd say that constitutes abandonment."
"I got the getting while it was good and you know that," she stuck her tongue out at you. "You need to keep saving so that you can fly your ass out here." She squinted at the screen. "You really need to drink like… an entire bottle of nyquil, dude."
"If only it were that easy," you groan. "I don't even have a photographer's position yet. All I get is sitting at a desk and responding to emails… even with my head start, I can't find a good job and I barely make enough to keep living in Toronto." You stick out your tongue back at her for the nyquil comment. "As if I haven't been hiding a bottle of dayquil in my desk for the past week."
Rhiannon stopped what she was doing and leaned toward her camera. "You know why you can't get the jobs you want," her voice is soft, empathetic. "Mark is having trouble, too. He's been doing a lot of half days, so I don't know how they plan to do their tour with him being constantly sick."
You looked away. "I can't afford to take any more time off… I don't want to lose this job. If I do, I'm not sure that I'll be able to make my rent."
"You're going to need to take time eventually,” Rhiannon stated firmly. "If you don't get at least some of your strength back you're going to end up in the hospital like I did. Remember?"
You glanced back at your screen, watching Donghyuck wander around in the backdrop. You were beyond jealous that they got to live together.
"Maybe. I just miss you. More than I miss having a clear passageway in my nose."
Rhiannon smiled sadly at you. "I miss you too, everyone does. You'll be here soon, I promise. I gotta go, sleep well and drink plenty of water, okay?"
"Okay."
Rhiannon waved at you before her screen went dark, ending the call. The call was shorter than usual, so you presumed that she had woken up late. You zoned out a little, acutely aware that the apartment had gone silent again. You didn't want to cry, to give up after surviving for so long. You had made it this far without letting everything get to you.
You knew that your deteriorating health was because of your separation from Mark and companies saw that as a liability, even though laws had come into place last year to protect separated soulmates from workplace discrimination. You felt a tiny ping of hope when Rhiannon said you would be able to move soon, but you knew she was lying to make you feel better.
Feeling lethargic, you stand and make your way to the dresser in the corner of your room, stripping and throwing your clothes about the room. You open up a drawer and pull out a pair of sweatpants and the softest t-shirt you could find and slipped them on, wandering to your bed and slowly climbing in. You slipped off your glasses, placing them on your desk and reached forward to turn off your lamp.
You hugged your polar bear and tried to get comfortable, hoping to fall asleep quickly. You supposed you could call into work when you woke up; at least your manager was nice enough to understand when you needed a day off. You rolled over, tossed and turned, but sleep wouldn't come. Not while your phone was constantly buzzing.
"What the hell," you mumble to yourself, untangling yourself from the knot of blankets you had tied yourself in to reach for your phone. Your lock screen lit up with a photo of Mark, one you had taken two years ago of him standing in Union Station.
[Rhiannon (5)]
She sure knew how to type quickly.
Rhiannon: I'm on my way to work, I'll let you know when I'm there
Rhiannon: sorry our call was so short, I was running a little late
Rhiannon: I talked to Mark last night, did he say anything?
Rhiannon: are you asleep already? It's been like 5 minutes
Rhiannon: ok you're basically just ignoring me at this point
You: calm down bro I was getting in my pyjamas
Rhiannon: I forgot how slow you get when you're sick, I could die of boredom waiting for you to respond
You: hardy har
Rhiannon: so have you talked to mark today?
You: around lunchtime he woke up from a nightmare but I assume hes busy right now
Rhiannon: Things have been pretty bad around now, I think you might have guessed that
You: Yeah, things aren’t really that great here either, but I’m more worried about Mark… have they given him time off?
Rhiannon: Not much besides half days. He’s really been missing you. Maybe you should message him and see if he’s not busy
You: Yeah, maybe. I feel really guilty
Rhiannon: I know. I still could help you buy your plane ticket, you know.
You: You know I can’t do that, I can’t take more from you than I have already. I owe you too much.
No response.
You: Rhiannon I’m sorry
You: Come on, you can’t have scrubbed in that fast!
You sighed, staring at your screen and still seeing no response from your best friend. You took a deep breath in and immediately regretted it when you began coughing up a lung, but at least you weren't upchucking your dinner. Instead, you decided to send a text to Mark.
You: mark, you there?
You close your mind for a moment, thinking that maybe going to bed even later than usual would just make you more sick in the end, but you really needed to know what was going on.
Mark: yeah I'm here babe, what's wrong, can't sleep?
You: no not really… do you have time to talk for a bit?
Mark: yeah, my legs gave out during our first practice so I'm taking a break
You: I'm sorry
Mark: it's not your fault (Y/N)
You: it kind of is, we're both dying because I can't afford to move
Mark: (Y/N), we're not dying, and it's okay, you'll be able to move soon
You: face it you know that we are… I haven't felt this horrible in a long time and I've thrown up three times today
Mark didn't respond right away.
Mark: why are you putting yourself down so much
You: I just… have a lot of regrets right now
Mark: what do you mean
You licked your lips and rolled over in bed, wondering if you should tell him.
Mark: are you okay?
You: no, I feel like this would make you hate me
Mark: I could never hate you and you know that. Tell me what's been bothering you.
You: For the past while… Rhiannon’s been offering me money. It’s honestly not much because everyone’s struggling nowadays, but it would be enough for me to fly to Korea, and I’ve felt so guilty about it that I kept saying no and she stopped offering
Mark: You mean that you could have been here faster?
You: and now I feel that saying no was a really bad idea… and I.. I can’t afford anything, barely even food and now I hear that you’re even more sick than I am and I feel terrible
You: I don’t know what to do
Mark: It’s okay, (Y/N), really. I know how hard it is to take money from someone else, I’m not mad at you
You: Really?
Mark: I’m just disappointed that I have to keep waiting. You’ll be able to move soon, I promise, I promise, I promise
You: Are you going to be okay
Mark: As long as you are. Take care of yourself, okay? I’ll be there for you the second you land. Okay?
You: Okay. I… I should probably get some sleep now.
Mark: Rest well, I love you
You: I love you too
You sighed, placing your phone on your desk and turning over in your bed. It was time.
#mark lee#mark lee x reader#mark x reader#nct127#nct#nctu#nct scenarios#nct imagines#reader insert#fanfiction#kpop fanfictions#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines
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Jordeclan going to an amusement park or a fair? They both just honestly need a break and some fun!!
anon i’m so sorry this took so long but hey i made it valentine’s day and there’s lynch bros content and i hope you like it (also on ao3)
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Declan wakes up on the morning of Valentine’s Day not really aware that it’s Valentine’s Day.
It’s Saturday, so he doesn’t need to go into work, and he trundles down the stairs into the kitchen and makes himself a coffee. Matthew and Ronan are still asleep, the latter of whom spent the night after driving up the previous day to go to an art show with his brothers. (Ronan had been less than subtle about his disdain for the ‘art’ in question; Declan had dragged them out early to go to a diner for some burgers. Brotherly bonding at its finest.)
He sits at the breakfast bar with his coffee and checks his emails on his phone like he’s reading the news. There’s a few work things, but not too much, all things considered. He sends a good morning text to Jordan, knowing in all likelihood she won’t read it until at least noon. The thought of her brings a smile to his face, and he wonders if he’ll get to see her later. They don’t have any solid plans in place, but their relationship has never been one that follows a rigid structure anyway. She’s been a breath of fresh air in every possible way.
An hour or so later, Declan hears Ronan moving around in the guest bedroom upstairs, probably throwing his stuff together before he drives back to Singer’s Falls. Not long after that, Matthew comes down the stairs, golden curls matted to his head on one side from where he’s slept on them.
“Mornin’,” he says through a yawn, and takes a seat. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Whatever you want.”
Matthew hums. “I want eggs.”
Declan nods at the fridge. “Go on then.”
Matthew sighs but gets up again and opens the refrigerator, standing solemnly in front of it before slowly removing a carton of eggs.
He puts them down and makes a good show of looking lost as he meanders around the kitchen finding everything he needs. Declan knows he’s doing it on purpose, but goddamn if it doesn’t work. “For crying out loud, how do you want them?”
Matthew grins; he’s won this round. “Scrambled, please. You’re the best.”
“Yeah, yeah. You can make your own toast, though. And go and ask Ronan if he wants any.”
“Yes, sir!” Matthew salutes, and runs off to the hallway to yell up the stairs at Ronan.
A mountain of breakfast later, Ronan disappears again to have a shower, and Declan makes Matthew wash the dishes. He sits in the living room and turns on some nature documentary just for background noise, but only a minute or two passes before Matthew comes in and sits down.
“You cannot possibly have finished the dishes yet,” Declan says.
“They need to soak,” Matthew insists, eyes skating guiltily from Declan’s face to the TV screen. “Oh, is this the one with the penguins?” He sits down, and Declan resolves himself to finishing the singular chore he asked Matthew to do later.
“Yes, half a job Bob, it’s the one with the penguins.”
Matthew smiles indulgently and settles in to watch, but they both get distracted a moment later when they spot Ronan walking past, carrying a lot more than he originally had with him.
“Why do you have a big teddy bear?” Matthew asks.
“Is that a boom-box?” Declan asks.
“Is that a heart-shaped balloon with Adam’s face on it?” Matthew asks.
“What are you doing?” Declan asks.
Ronan leaves everything in the hall by the door and comes to stand just inside the living room, hands in his pockets. He shrugs. “Just gonna make a pit-stop at Cambridge, that’s all.”
Declan sighs. “It’s not exactly on your way. Does Adam even know you’re coming?”
“No, it’s a surprise. It’s a funny inside joke Valentine’s surprise.”
“What do you mean, Valentine’s surprise, it’s not Val—oh my god.” Declan puts his head in his hands. “Oh my god, it’s Valentine’s Day.”
“Oh, Declan,” Ronan says, the smile evident in his voice. “Forget, did you?”
Declan lifts his head. “It was a busy week at work.”
“Don’t worry, bro, I must have got all the romantic genes, it’s not your fault.”
Declan scowls but there’s little heat in it. He checks his phone and Jordan is yet to reply, which could mean nothing, but doubt now niggles in Declan’s mind. What if Jordan was expecting some kind of gesture and is now massively disappointed that Declan is so useless?
“What do I do? It’s too late to make any reservations.”
“Reservations are for chumps anyway, just go and do something fun,” Ronan says.
“Like what?” Declan snaps. All that’s running through his head is that he got Jordan some tyrian purple at great cost and at very short notice for their very first date. If her expectations for Valentine’s Day are high, he has no one to blame but himself.
“I’ll leave that up to you to figure out,” Ronan says. “I have to hit the road.”
Matthew laughs and elbows Declan playfully. “Ronan is a better boyfriend than you.”
“No he isn’t, shut up,” Declan says, which just makes Matthew laugh harder.
After Ronan hugs Matthew goodbye, Declan helps him carry the ridiculous gifts he has obviously dreamt up out to the car.
“Text me when you’re with Adam,” he says when he’s closed the trunk, “so I know you got there okay.”
Ronan opens the driver’s side door and levels Declan with a put-upon look. “Fine, I will try my very best to remember to text you when I arrive.”
Declan manages a smile. “Appreciate it. Drive safe.”
Ronan moves to get in the car, but hesitates, and turns back to his brother. “You’re not really worried that you forgot about today, right?” At Declan’s shrug, he continues, “Come on, Jordan’s cool, she’s not gonna care. Everyone knows Valentine’s Day is bullshit.”
“Says the guy who’s driving several hours out of his way in honour of said bullshit day,” Declan says pointedly.
Ronan shakes his head. “Look, the day’s irrelevant; I’m driving several hours out of my way because I miss my fucking boyfriend and this is as good an excuse as any to go see him.”
“Yes, but—”
“But nothing. Jordan likes you, for some unfathomable reason. She’s not gonna dump you because you didn’t remember to plan some posh, soulless valentine’s date.”
Abrasive as he is, Declan can’t deny that Ronan’s right. “When did you get so wise?” he grumbles, and Ronan smirks.
“Hey, statistically I’ve gotta be right about some things.”
“Once in a blue moon.”
“Asshole.”
“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.” Ronan gets into the car, but Declan stops him before he shuts it. “You really think Jordan is cool?”
Ronan laughs. “Way too cool for you.”
Declan’s unwarranted fears about Jordan ignoring him fade as soon as she texts him back an hour or so later. She doesn’t mention the dreaded V-word, but she says there’s a fair in town, and asks if he wants to go.
A fair date sounds pretty perfect actually, and when he agrees, Jordan tells him she’ll pick him up at seven. She always does like to drive.
“I still haven’t got her a gift, though,” Declan tells Matthew. “Is it bad that I don’t have a gift?”
“You’re going to a fair,” Matthew points out. “Plenty of opportunities to be all manly and shit and win her something.”
“Language,” Declan says, and Matthew rolls his eyes.
“You should get her a card, at least.”
“Valentine’s Day cards are always so terrible, though,” Declan complains.
“So make her one. Jordan’s arty, she’d probably like that better anyway.”
Declan doesn’t like that both of his younger brothers are being smarter than him today, but nevertheless, Matthew is right, and Declan ransacks his office supplies to see what he can come up with.
He uses some high-quality photo paper to print out a picture of a pretty flower that he found online, then carefully cuts it out and glues it to the middle of the front of some card he’s folded in half. He frames it by cutting out strips of purple card and sticking them around the flower. Then he gets irritated with how shit it looks and considers throwing the whole fucking thing away and starting from scratch, when Matthew peers over his shoulder and says, “Aw, that looks really nice.”
So Declan keeps it, writes his message inside, and finds an envelope that is only a little bit too big to put it in.
Time’s getting on, so he goes to get ready. He has no idea what to wear for a date at a fair, and takes two tie options out to the living room to get Matthew’s opinion.
“Which tie is more appropriate?”
“Neither.”
“You didn’t even look.”
“I don’t need to. Don’t wear a tie. You’re not going on a job interview. Plus it’s February and you’ll be outside, put a sweater on.” Matthew does finally look at him now, and he sighs at Declan’s blue button-down and grey slacks. “This is what you wear for work, put some jeans on. You’ve like, met Jordan, right?”
“Alright, smartass, point taken.”
When Declan’s changed again, Matthew decrees his outfit of jeans and a fairisle sweater in navy tones boring but ultimately acceptable, which Declan figures is the best he’s going to get. He also thinks he’s going mad if he’s asking Matthew of all people for fashion advice.
He just has time to slip his coat on and put the card in the inside pocket before there’s a knock at the door, and Matthew runs to open it.
“Hiya, squirt,” Jordan says to him, which is funny because Matthew is taller than her.
“Hey. Declan tried to wear a tie.”
Jordan laughs, throwing her head back, and Declan finds there’s a dopey grin on his face even though his girlfriend and his brother are bonding over making fun of him. “Of course he did. Never fully dressed without a tie.” She meets Declan’s gaze over Matthew’s shoulder and winks at him.
“Hey, I’m right here,” he says, faux-wounded, and makes his way over to the door as Matthew heads back to the living room.
He kisses Jordan. “Hi.”
“Hi yourself. You ready to go?”
“Yes.”
“Have fun, guys!” Matthew yells, and Declan hesitates, poking his head in to look at his brother.
“What are you doing tonight? You can come with us if you want?”
“No way, man, I’m not third-wheeling on your date. Also it’s cute how you think I don’t already have plans, I’m extremely popular.”
“Uh huh,” Declan says, worries evaporating. “Modest, too.”
They leave, finally, and Jordan drives them to where the fair is set up, filling Declan in on any little anecdotes he’s missed since they last spoke. He’s happy just to listen to her talk; sitting in her presence is like recharging a battery, and he feels lighter than he has all week.
Parking is easy to find, and they huddle together as they walk towards the entrance, the lights from all the rides and the heat lamps looking bright and inviting beyond. Jordan slips her hand into Declan’s, and he tucks them both into his pocket as Jordan leans her head against his shoulder.
“I missed you this week,” she says.
“Did you?” Declan smiles. He likes being missed by Jordan. “I missed you too. I always miss you.”
“Well you say that now, but I’m going to destroy you at fairground games, so you might change your mind.”
Declan’s doubtful, but he grins at her amenably.
She holds up a finger. “But first, we need to go on a couple of super fast, spinny rides, because if we go on them after I’ve had something to eat I might just throw up all over you.”
“Yeah, let’s avoid that,” Declan says. “Lead the way.”
Jordan, practically vibrating with excitement, drags Declan straight to the ride she keeps calling ‘the whirligig’, because it takes you round and round, faster and faster, while the carriage you sit in is also spinning. So it’s double the amount of spinning, and when they get off, Declan has to stop for a minute with his hands on his knees while Jordan lovingly laughs at him.
She takes pity on him and they go on the ferris wheel next. They kiss when it stops when they’re at the top, which Declan knows is cliché as hell, but he’s certainly not complaining. He pulls back a little, his thumb gently brushing along her cheekbone.
“I made you a card,” he says, a little embarrassed. Jordan’s warm brown eyes go wide and pleased.
“Oh yeah?”
He pulls it out of his pocket and starts to hand it to her nervously. “It’s not very good.”
“I’ll be the judge of that,” she says, taking it from him. She opens it and smiles when she sees the flower. “So pretty.”
“It’s called a Middlemist red camellia. It’s like the rarest flower in the world. Or so Google tells me.” He knows that Jordan will know why he specifically chose this flower. He’s telling her something about who she is to him. She won’t miss the significance of that.
She brings Declan’s hand to her lips and kisses it gently, before letting it go and looking at the card again. “I love camellia’s,” Jordan says, “but I’ve never seen this one before.” She opens the card and reads the message Declan wrote inside, a soft smile growing the more she reads.
Jordan sighs and holds the card to her chest with her eyes closed. When she opens them again, she says, “I made you a card, too.”
She pulls it out of her own coat pocket, and Declan opens it. On the front is a colour pencil drawing of him, perfect hair, non-smiling, boring suit, but with the fanciest shoes he has ever seen; a more exaggerated version of the ones he was wearing when he and Jordan first met.
Declan laughs in joyous surprise. “Your card is better than mine.”
“My card is funnier than yours,” she says. “It’s not better.”
“Thank you,” he says, earnestly, looking at the portrait and cracking up again. “I think...I think I’m gonna frame this.”
“You should. It’ll be worth a fortune some day.”
Of that, Declan has no doubt. “You wanna know a secret?”
“Absolutely.”
“I forgot it was Valentine’s Day.”
It’s Jordan’s turn to laugh, and she leans in to kiss Declan’s cheek. “I forgot, too. I didn’t realise until I went to grab a coffee and there were Valentine’s specials going on all over the place.”
“Ronan of all people reminded me. He drove up to surprise Adam at Cambridge.”
“Bless him, Ronan really is a gigantic softie.”
Declan grins. “Well he told me he thinks you’re cool. Too cool for me.”
“Aw, babe, he’s right!” Jordan says, laughing at his sad pout. “Unfortunately for me, I love you anyway.”
Declan shakes his head, smiling. “You’re a dick,” he says. “But I love you, too.”
The ferris wheel starts moving again, and when it stops, they go and try their hand at some games. Jordan comes out on top at ring tossing, duck hooking, the coconut shy, and the buzzwire, but Declan does pretty well at the mini laser quest and a balloon-popping darts game.
They end up at the shooting game stall, where you have to try and knock the cans over to win prizes. There’s a cute stuffed stegosaurus that Jordan has her eye on, and Declan pays for them both to have a go to try and win it.
They each manage to knock a couple of cans over, but there’s some that are way more stubborn and don’t seem to budge even when clearly hit.
“Another round,” Declan says when his go is finished. He sighs in frustration when the results are the same.
Jordan puts his hand on his arm. “You know these things are rigged, right? They’re weighted, it’s almost impossible to win the good prizes.”
The rational part of his brain understands this to be true. The monkey part wants the prize. “Yes, but it’s Valentine’s Day and I have to win you this stupid stegosaurus. My manly pride is at stake.”
Jordan snorts. “Well how about we take your manly pride to that stall over there and I’ll let you buy me a churro, I’m starving.”
“...Churros sound good.”
Jordan links her arm through Declans as they follow their noses over to the churro stall.
“I really would’ve won it with one more go,” Declan feels the need to say.
“Sure you would,” Jordan says easily. “Maybe later.”
“Fuck later, it’s freezing. You wanna come back to mine? I’ll make you a latte.”
Jordan grins up at him. “I thought you’d never ask. Churros first though.”
“Oh, that’s a given.”
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Chapter Five
Chapter Summary: Bucky is kinda of a creep in this chapter, and he makes a notable revelation. Reader and Steve get some game time in and we also get to learn a bit about a traumatic event that happened to the reader and some more background information.
Warnings: mentions of a car crash that resulted in mild injury, voyeurism(?), mild sexual content, jealousy, video game violence
Word Count: 3,162
A/N: I'm not 100% in love with certain parts of this chapter and I think it's because there are some parts that may seem random and don't make sense but it'll be explained and discussed more later on. Also, are the POV changes of the same things okay? I try not to get too descriptive with both but there are certain things that happen that need to be addressed by both of them, I think. Is it weird? Too much? Not enough? Please let me know!!!
As you blindly began the process of stripping your clothes and getting into the shower you couldn't get those images of Bucky out of your mind. It was mind-blowing how much you enjoyed it all, that whole interaction just replaying in your mind, over and over again. ‘Baby doll.’ God, how did such a simple phrase turn you on so much? Well, that was easy to figure out, it's because he said them, looking like that. Why? It was so frustrating, he was so frustrating. It's not like you could just ask him out like you would literally any other person, he was different. He was your friend before anything else. And you just could not risk it. Knowing you had no other option, you were determined to simply ignore your insane attraction and the way you felt about Bucky. Plain and simple. Maybe it would go away if you didn't acknowledge it. Yeah....that's a good idea.
Getting out of the shower, you dried your hair quickly then put on your boy shorts and a tank top, doing your best to pretend that everything with Bucky was just gonna go back to normal. It had to. Walking back into your room you decided to text Steve and see if he'd be up for a few rounds of Warzone or something. You needed something to distract you, so you plopped down on your belly near the foot of your bed, idly swinging your feet above your backside as you used your elbows to prop yourself up. Scrolling through your contacts you found Steve's name and typed a quick message.
*Hey Steve, you up?*
You decided to scroll through various social media pages before your phone buzzed with a response.
*hey y/n! Yea I'm up, what's up?*
*Was just wondering if you wanted to play something. I said I'd text you. Lol.*
*oh yea...I forgot about that. Lol.*
*Obviously. Lol. So you gettin' on or no?*
*yeah, lemme log on really quick*
*Okay, doing the same*
You got up from your bed, hit with a sudden wave of grogginess, and yawned and stretched, your arms raising above your head before you went over to the computer to get everything set up to play with Steve. Putting on your headset and placing yourself in your gaming chair, you shivered when the backside of your upper thigh hit the cold leather, opting to pull your knees to your chest in between your arms as they reached out to the mouse and keyboard. Now comfortable, you opened up the game launcher, seeing Steve was already online and added him to your party, and turned the microphone on your headset on before saying hello to Steve.
"Hey man, you ready to pay for my new favorite gun?" You laughed as you scrolled through the available bundles for purchase, looking for a specific weapon that recently came out.
"A deal's a deal y/n, I'd be honored to." He huffed amused.
You hummed in response as you searched for what you wanted when your phone buzzed. You picked it up off the desk and saw a snap chat notification from Bucky and with a sigh, you opened it. All around him was dark, but his face and upper body was exposed in the dim light from his screen, his face was in a forced pout with the caption *I can't sleep:(* And despite your previous wishes to ignore the way your body responded to the sight of him, it betrayed you. You immediately felt your pulse pick up speed and noted that the grainy quality of the photo did nothing to deter from the quality of the subject...and his pecs...and abs...and his puffy pink lips...
Snapping back into reality you held your phone above you, getting an angle that showed you sitting in your chair and that you were obviously playing Warzone with the caption *Sorry boutcha. Lol. Wanna play with me and Steve?*
Making some small talk with Steve while the purchase went through the various avenues needed you got another notification and opened it. Bucky was sneering, his lip curled up in obvious disgust. No caption needed for that one you thought to yourself. You replied with turning your chair to display the new weapon Steve bought you with your hand held out like one of those ladies on a TV game show presenting a prize, an exaggerated smile on your face and your eyebrows raised high. No caption.
You and Steve were done getting your loadouts the way you wanted them, both of you asking questions and making suggestions along the way, now ready to begin playing. You hadn’t gotten a reply from Bucky so you tried not to think about him, and after a while, it was easy to become engrossed in the game. You and Steve worked well together, both of you made sure to call out any enemies in the vicinity and give each other cover when needed. There was now only one other squad of duos and if you and Steve could take them out, you’d win. With the circle getting smaller and smaller, you found yourself unable to precisely locate the last two players. The circle was located on a hill with rock formations jutting out precariously, you and Steve were currently hiding behind trees, hating the fact that the other two players had the high ground.
“Hey, you good on armor? I got nothing on the heartbeat sensor so we’re gonna have to chance it going up the hill.” You asked Steve, explaining what you hoped was a foolproof plan to secure your combined victory.
“Hold on,” He said as he filled up his armor and checked the ammo on his weapons, “Alright, think this is as good as it's gonna get. Ready?” He asked.
“Ready.” You replied before the two of you slowly and quietly parted ways, branching off on either side of where you assumed the enemy team to be. Steve positioned himself a distance away, crouched next to a tree so he could observe and assist when needed without drawing notice to his position. You were just underneath a rock ledge and quickly threw a grenade overhead to scatter the enemy, moving quickly up the hill and positioned yourself in a way to give Steve a clean shot if needed. You heard footsteps and barely saw a figure running behind a small bush, you took aim and opened fire, downing your enemy then delivering the finishing move.
“Downed one of 'em.” You told Steve, just as shots rang out and you got hit. You quickly tried to find cover before you yourself got downed. Crawling to Steve so he could revive you. “I’m hit, I’m hit! I couldn’t see him.”
“Get your ass over here y/n.” Steve admonished, still scanning the area for the final person between you and victory. He healed you and you used your last two armor plates, not quite at full defenses. You both got the notification a grenade was in your vicinity before you scattered just in time to miss the damage. As Steve went right and you went left you saw the final player behind a large rock, taking aim at Steve. You quickly pinged his location, telling Steve he was right there, but not quick enough before he delivered a series of fatal shots at Steve. You took your chance and took aim, earning you and Steve your victory.
“YES!!” You roared, jolting from your seat with your hands up in the air before you did a little victory jig while Steve laughed and congratulated you.
“I am the best ever. Bow before me.” You said more to yourself than anyone else. Steve only laughed before you finally sat back down, beaming with pride. Neither of you starting another game, electing to instead just talk a bit, not about anything in particular. He asked about when your truck was gonna be out of the shop and you told him what the garage told you, hopefully, Monday. He asked about your photography business. “It’s doing well, I got commissioned by the school board again to do the homecoming photos so that’ll be fun, I’ve got some neat ideas for the photo station that line up with the theme they’re choosing. I’ve had to reschedule a few photoshoots since my truck was dinged up so bad by that damn drunk driver, but I’m just glad their insurance covered the full cost of repairs because my truck was perfect. I had just gotten it done up the way I wanted it.” You chucked as you recalled all the additions you had done to your truck when your phone buzzed again. It was another photo of Bucky looking sad with the caption *I’m sad* and you typed a quick message instead of taking a photo and asked why he was sad.
“Well, I’m happy for you y/n. I'm glad that asshole had to pay for what he did, it’s crazy you didn’t get hurt more than you did in that accident. I saw the damage to your truck and I was sure you were gonna be in the hospital for a few weeks. We were all worried for you. Who is that drunk that early in the damn morning anyway?” He said as he remembered the story going around the school and seeing the pictures you sent to Bucky when he showed Steve.
“Yeah…my truck took most of the hit thankfully.” You said softly, being transported back to the moment it happened. You were at a red light, on your way to school, your light turned green and you pressed off the brake when a smaller truck t boned you, hitting you directly on the driver's door at a speed the police report said was roughly 40-50 miles per hour. You remember the way your body was violently thrown to the side and you could vividly recall the sound of breaking glass, tires screeching and the hiss of the engine as it was damaged. You could smell the smoke and the burnt rubber. Everything happened so fast it took you a second to realize that you had been in an accident, you didn’t know it at the time but you had a concussion, some scrapes here and there and some sprains to your neck and back and you were gonna be sore for quite a while. The offending driver wasn’t so lucky, he was hurt pretty bad but he would live. You spent about two days in the hospital and had to take it easy for a while afterward. The doctors and the police all said you were lucky to be alive, that they’d seen the exact same accident where there were no survivors. It was a bit daunting.
Your phone buzzed, bringing you out of your reverie. It was Bucky again. He was curled up in his bed on his side, one arm angled under head like a pillow. *just miss you* the caption read.
“So with you taking pictures and everything at homecoming are you not gonna have time to dance or anything ?” Steve asked hesitantly, your mind coming back to the present.
You shrugged even though you knew he couldn’t see, force of habit. “I dunno, I wasn’t really planning on going with anyone. I usually don’t.”
He was still slouched on the couch, his imagination going back and forth between her in the shower and other various compromising positions, enjoying the way his briefs became tighter and tighter when she finally came back from her shower. And his breath halted when he had a perfect view of what she was wearing, sitting up slowly as if in a trance.
Her hair was still wet as it fell from her shoulders and landed on her chest, she was wearing a black tank top that she often used when they worked out together, it was tight and he quite enjoyed the way it clung to her stomach, ending shortly below her belly button and how it left nothing to the imagination about the shape and size of her breasts.
Her legs laid bare before him as she was in a pair of boy shorts that resembled boxers but were barely more than a regular pair of underwear. The waistband sitting nicely on her hip bones, not quite meeting the hem of her tank, left a sliver of skin on her lower belly he longed to run his hand over. When she laid on her bed, her back was to him, so he dared to get up from his spot and get a better look as she swung her legs back and forth, the way her shorts rode up a bit gave him a tantalizing glimpse of her thighs and how the muscles there behaved with the action of her legs. Her tank top had now ridden up and he could see the skin of her lower back, just above where the slopes of her cheeks began. He was mesmerized. He had seen her wear that shirt often enough but he had a whole new appreciation for it now. Her fingers were tapping the screen in front of her and he idly wondered what she was doing before he had to practically run back to the couch when she got up. And then she stretched. And dear lord he almost came just at the sight. Her arms reached up high, and she was on her tippy toes, her shirt rode up even more and he fought the urge to roll his eyes in pleasure, not wanting to miss the display before him. He wished more than anything he could feel her soft skin as his hands roamed her body, feeling the way she would tremble at his touch.
Now finished stretching she made her way to the computer, jumping a little as she sat down and repositioned herself. He chuckled at her, knowing the seat was probably cold and he envied the black leather. He saw that she was getting ready to play Warzone and remembered that she had made plans with Steve and he scoffed at the notion. Seeing she was scrolling through the weapons he decided to see if he could fluster her a bit as he opened the app with a yellow background. He snapped a photo, making sure to not give away his position in his room but giving enough away he knew she would enjoy the view, pouting his lips as enticingly as he could.
He saw her reaction to the image and he grinned proudly, knowing he had succeeded, seeing her pose and send a picture in response. Seeing the way her breasts were pressed up against her knees he licked his lip before taking it between his teeth. God, she was sexy. He sat there looking over the photo as he grabbed himself through his pajama pants briefly before the image timed out and he finally noticed her question. He basked in the feeling in his briefs for a small second before he replied. He decided to just show his distaste for joining instead of voicing it. He watched as she angled her chair in a way that displayed her monitor and her face and his phone buzzed, seeing the actual photo he smiled, she was showing him her new gun that Steve bought as a result of that fated bet, the one that kind of changed everything.
He was lost in thought at how much things had changed in such a small amount of time since then and he felt conflicted for the first time about what exactly he was doing. He was being a bit of a creep…right? With a sigh, he realized he needed to stop, realized he was invading her privacy and it wasn’t right, he felt bad. He took one last glance at the window and saw her take out a player before the screen quickly indicated her and Steve won 1st place. He smiled when he could hear and see her reaction. She shot up out of her chair and raised her arms in victory, then began lightly running in place with her arms bent by her sides before she spread her legs with a jump and began swinging her hips in a circle as she did the same with her arms out in front of her. He laughed out loud at how dorky and sexy she could be at the same time. This, this right here is why he loved her. It was confounding and blew him away, but he loved it. He loved her.
He saw they hadn’t started another game and wondered why before he noticed she was talking animatedly about something…with Steve. He didn’t like the feelings he was feeling right now, he had no right to be jealous or angry but that’s the position he found himself in. With a huff he went to his bed and sent her another photo, this time genuinely pouting and being sad. Much to his dismay, she just sent a quick message instead of a photo. He rolled to the side and answered honestly with a photo and caption, he did miss her. He wanted her to be in his bed, laying next to him on her side and with his arm wrapped around her middle, her back to his chest. And then he realized he could technically have that, or a version of that. So, he sent another quick photo asking her if she wanted to come over and watch a movie with him since they were both up. They’d done it before, both of their parents knew it wasn’t all that strange to find them in each other’s beds in the morning or find them empty, whenever they did sneak over to each other’s room at night, they always left a note for their parents. His phone buzzed with a response in the affirmative and his heart soared. He quickly got out of bed and closed his curtains, not wanting her to know what he had done earlier before he walked downstairs to meet her at the door. He sat on the porch steps waiting for her, realizing she had to log off the computer as he was stealing her away from Steve and she also had to leave a note for her mom. Hearing her front door open and her keys jingle as she locked it, he looked in her direction and watched her walk towards him, still in the outfit from earlier. He smiled at her as she reached him and stood up.
“Hey, doll.” He said as he lifted his arm to take her into a side hug, wrapping his arm around the back of her neck and pulling her to his bare chest, and kissing the top of her head.
“Hey, Buck.” She responded quietly, smiling softly as she pulled away from him to open the door and start up the stairs.
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#a/u bucky x reader#teenager bucky x teenager reader#bucky barnes#bucky x reader#bucky barnes fanfiction#reader#slow burn#friends to lovers
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For Beetlelands Week 2020
Title: Write Like the Wind
Fandom: Beetlejuice (Musical)
Rating: T
Ships: Beetlejuice/Adam/Barbara
Prompt: One Bed
Summary: Adam wants to do something for nerd-kind now that he has ghostly powers. Beetlejuice and Barbara help out. Spoilers for The Winds of Winter.
When Beetlejuice returned from the Netherworld, he came back powerful. Barbara wasn’t exactly sure how—the story changed with each telling.
But he returned with enough power to teleport her and Adam pretty much anywhere he could visualize. Thanks to Google Street View, he could visualize quite a few things.
Being able to teleport was very helpful when Adam had a specific request.
The ghosts and demon appeared inside a very fancy home, with sunlight streaming in the windows. Beetlejuice was hovering between Barbara and Adam, holding their hands. Barbara suspected this wasn’t strictly part of his teleportation ability, but it was a nice excuse to hold hands.
The demon shimmered in and out briefly, wincing.
“Everything okay?” Barbara asked.
“Teleporting all the way to New Mexico is a lot. We’re definitely gonna need to stop by a bolt-hole on the way back.” According to Beetlejuice, undead travellers could recharge in places with a lot of “death energy”—graveyards, usually, or famous battlefields.
The clicking of a keyboard drew the three of them to an office where a large, grey-haired man sat in front of his computer.
Adam sucked in a breath. “There he is,” he whispered.
Beetlejuice rolled his eyes. “Sexy, you’re dead. He can’t hear you.” Sure enough, the writer hadn’t turned around at the sound of Beetlejuice’s voice.
“Oh.” Adam looked a bit disappointed. “I guess I just assumed that he’d be attuned to the supernatural. He’s a master of the sci-fi/fantasy genre! Anyway, let’s go see what he’s working on.” He crossed his fingers as the three of them huddled around the author’s computer screen.
Barbara felt a bit awkward reading over someone’s shoulder, and looked politely aside. She’d never gotten into sci-fi and fantasy the way Adam had; he’d know better than she would what they were looking at.
Her husband’s face fell. “Wild Cards?!” he spluttered. “Wild freaking Cards! I know he only edits the anthologies, but they’re a distraction!” He ran his hands through his hair. “Just write the books, George!”
“I can take over his computer and threaten to start deleting files until the books are done!” Beetlejuice crowed. “Make it seem like he’s got a computer virus!”
Adam’s gaze flicked between Beetlejuice and the author’s computer a few times.
Barbara cleared her throat.
“No, of course not,” Adam said quickly. “Thanks for saving me from myself, sweetie.” He kissed her cheek. He focused on the author, holding out his hand. “Sorry about this.”
The author stopped what he was doing. He saved then exited out of the document. Adam searched through the computer files for a moment then made the author open up a document titled The Winds of Winter.
The document opened after a few moments. ‘Want to pick up where you left off?’ Word asked helpfully, and the author clicked on it. There were a bunch of unfamiliar words and names on the page that showed up.
No sense in me reading this. Barbara decided to look around a famous author’s office. She’d expected him to have a bunch of memorabilia from the TV show, but the furnishings were really quite ordinary. Unsurprisingly, there were a lot of bookshelves filled with books.
There was silence from the author, whose fingers were poised over the keyboard.
“C’mon, Sexy, get writing.” Beetlejuice hovered in mid-air, bobbing slightly. He was also eyeing the author’s office, but he was probably wondering where to put spiders.
“Er, there’s no way I can give him partial control, can I? I can’t write the next book!”
“Not how it works, newb.”
Adam sighed. “Okay. Um, my thoughts definitely won’t be his, but maybe I can make a start. Barbara, you took that course in creative writing in college, right? Do you have any tips?” Adam was an amazing man with many good qualities, but pure creativity wasn’t one of them.
“I can try, but I wasn’t writing award-winning fantasy novels back in college.” Barbara dredged up some memories of the TV show. “Maybe you should make the White Walkers show up! You know, inject some tension.”
“It’s an Arianne Martel chapter.”
Barbara had no idea what that meant. “Um…have a dragon show up?”
“I appreciate the thought, but Arianne is going to treat with Young Griff, and the entire point is that he’s a supposed Targaryen that doesn’t have dragons.”
Beetlejuice spoke up. “Have some brothers and sisters bone. Shove a little smut in there.”
“Not only does that not work in this chapter, I’m also not comfortable with that.”
“Or skip to a Dany chapter,” Barbara suggested. “I just want good things for her. How’s she doing, anyway?”
“Not well.” Adam made the author pull up a Dany chapter. He watched the blinking cursor for a few moments, frowning in thought.
Beetlejuice added, “You could write a bunch of dialogue in what’s basically a white room and see where it takes you. That’s an A-plus writing strategy, right there.”
Adam sighed, rubbing his forehead. After a few more moments of intense concentration, he looked away from the computer screen.
The author shook his head, blinking a few times.
“Maybe just having the document open will prompt him to write?” Adam asked hopefully.
The author closed out of The Winds of Winter and went back to a document called Wild Cards_edits.
Adam’s shoulders slumped.
Beetlejuice hovered closer. “Just casually mentioning that we can take out the phone, snap some pics of these new chapters, and threaten to leak them if he doesn’t write the books.”
“Photos of chapters over his shoulder?” Barbara said. “That’s pretty terrifying.”
The demon chuckled darkly.
“Ah. And that was exactly the point.” Beetlejuice might have changed a lot since his return from the Netherworld, but his love of fear and chaos that wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
“No, Beetlejuice,” Adam said. “It wouldn’t work anyway. What kind of writing would you get if someone was bullied into it?”
“Bleh, you’re no fun. Where to next, Sexy? That Rothfuss guy?”
“Let’s just go home.”
“Have to make a quick stop first, but okay.” Beetlejuice grabbed their hands and teleported them away.
They landed in someplace pitch black. Beetlejuice lit a match of neon green fire, revealing a small underground crypt barely large enough for the three of them. Every surface was draped with dust and cobwebs. A half-open coffin showed patchy, stained velvet. If there was a door to this crypt, the match didn’t reveal it.
Beetlejuice tilted his head. “Ahhh, that’s better.” He frowned slightly, as if listening to something. Barbara couldn’t hear anything. “Yep, think it’s still sandworm free! Lemme just recharge for a while.”
“You’ve been here before?” she asked.
“Nah, but I saw drawings from some ghost hunters back in the Netherworld. Ghost hunters can go topside to bring ghosts back, and they need places to rest, too.”
“So, ghost hunters are ghosts who hunt other ghosts?”
“Yeah, and they’re the worst. The Bureau of the Dead won’t let anyone go topside unless they’re a boot-licker. But it was good to know a few of their tricks when I got banished up here.”
Barbara glanced at Adam, who normally would’ve loved Netherworld lore. It wasn’t every day that Beetlejuice opened up about a place that was, in his words, “total Meh-ville.” But Adam wasn’t even listening. The gloomy atmosphere of the crypt fit his gloomy expression perfectly.
“Hey,” Barbara said softly. When Adam turned her way, she squeezed his hand. “I’m sorry it didn’t work out the way you wanted it to.”
“I guess art just has to happen at its own pace. You can’t force it. I just feel bad for all the other dead readers who’ll never get to read the end of the series. All they’ll have is the TV show’s ending.” He snorted in disgust.
“Maybe you planted a seed. Who knows? Inspiration is a funny thing.”
“And there’s always fanfic,” Beetlejuice added.
“It’s not the same,” Adam said with a sigh.
“Heh, speaking of fanfic….” Beetlejuice hopped into the coffin. “Oh noooo. There’s only one bed!”
Barbara and Adam stared at him. She had no idea what he was talking about.
Beetlejuice huffed. “Oh, come on. None of you ever read a romance fic? Hell, a romance novel?”
“No,” Adam said.
“Not really my thing,” Barbara added. She was a fan of biographies and autobiographies of famous people, personally. “And, also? Not a bed. It’s a coffin. And sleeping in a coffin is also not my thing.”
“Jesus, so picky.” Beetlejuice snapped his fingers, and the coffin became their bed at home. “Get over here.” He hesitated then said, “Please.” Barbara and Adam had had conversations with him about asking instead of demanding; happily, it looked like those conversations were sticking.
Beetlejuice had just done them a huge favour, and a little cuddling might cheer Adam up. Barbara went to join Beetlejuice, shooting a questioning glance at Adam. He followed them, though he was still brooding.
She and Beetlejuice let Adam slide between them as the three sorted themselves out. (Sometimes, Beetlejuice would throw in extra limbs or a few clones just for the added challenge.) After some scooching and wriggling, Barbara’s cheek rested on Adam’s shoulder as she stroked his chest gently and held his left hand. Beetlejuice had one arm over the two of them and was, for some reason, nibbling on Adam’s hair, which sometimes became kissing the top of his head. After a while, you got used to a certain amount of weirdness.
Gradually, Adam began to relax. First, the tension left his shoulders. Then, he cracked his neck and his jaw untightened. (He’d needed to wear a mouthguard when he slept when he was alive. He was always grinding his teeth.)
“Maybe…” he murmured. “Maybe I could write the ending to the books. It’ll be fanfic, but it’ll be something, at least. I can work on that project while the Deetzes are asleep. I’ve never written fic before, but I could try. It’s not like I need to eat or sleep. And I’ve been looking for a new project ever since I finished the model.” His model of the town had a place of pride in the attic, which the Maitlands had cleaned out and repurposed into an arts and crafts room. They still kept up with their hobbies, but they had fewer now that they were busy rehabilitating Beetlejuice and parenting Lydia.
“I’m sure it’ll be great, hon.” Barbara kissed his cheek. “I’ll help however I can.”
“And I can tell you all about what fic tropes you can put in!” Beetlejuice said. “Or what fic tropes we can do ourselves.” He must’ve been thinking about some sexual ones, for he chortled and squeezed Adam’s butt. “Gotta keep the rating PG-13 for Beetlelands Week, but…you know which ones.” He winked at no one in particular, it seemed. Sometimes, he pretended he had an audience; Barbara and Adam just ignored it.
Beetlejuice moved to nuzzling Adam’s throat. After a few moments, he began patting Barbara’s hair.
Barbara giggled. “Aren’t you supposed to be recharging?”
“It’s called multitasking, baby.” Idly, he commented, “Shit, fluff is hard to end. How do you even end something that by its nature has low stakes and minimal conflict?”
What was he talking about? Barbara shrugged.
Adam thoughtfully said, “Maybe with a kiss?”
“Hah!” Barbara couldn’t help but grin when Beetlejuice laughed like that. This wasn’t an evil cackle or a dark chuckle, but an open, cheerful sound that she’d been hearing more and more since they’d started dating. “Perfect! You’re so ready to be a fic writer, Sexy!”
Beetlejuice kissed Adam on the lips, and the cuddling in a false bed in an underground crypt continued.
Not for the first time, Barbara reflected, My afterlife is so weird.
But it did have its perks.
#beetlelandsweek2020#beetlejuice the musical#beetlejuice#beetlelands#adam maitland#barbara maitland#adam x barbara x beetlejuice
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I Know My Sister Like I Know My Own Mind
@comfortember Prompt 5: Cuddles
Summary: Penny Parker is sick, and when she is sick, she needs cuddles
Notes: I have fallen in LOVE with Penny Parker, especially her as Peter’s twin. I always wanted a twin, so I definitely live vicariously through fanfics. Drop some Peter&Penny twin recs for me. I will love you forever if you do!
Read on AO3: Here
It was a bad day.
It had technically been a bad week, but Penny had been trying so hard to ignore it. It was her last group of exams before finals next month, and she couldn’t afford to get sick. She had an exam in Calculus, AP US History, and AP Lit, plus a huge project due in Chemistry, and two essays.
Her teachers were trying to kill her, obviously, and the worst part? It was working. Penny woke up that morning feeling like she was dying.
At least I got through this week from hell. Only one day left. She thought, and rolled out of bed, nearly crying as her feet hit the cold floor. Literally everything hurt, and she just wanted to get back in bed with her aunt to be snuggled and coddled by her until she fell asleep.
Penny was especially clingy when she was sick. Even without the spider powers, her ability to stick to anybody who was willing to cuddle could rival Peter’s. They’d definitely overwhelmed their aunt one winter after both getting sick. May hadn’t been able to leave the apartment for three days.
But, alas, the snuggling would have to wait. May had to work early that morning and would be back late, and Penny had one last test to take. Stupid AP Lit.
Penny forced her aching arms into her comfiest, warmest shirt, and headed to the kitchen to force some breakfast down her burning throat. Peter looked up from his bowl of cereal and concern immediately washed over his face.
“You’re wearing your ‘sick shirt,’” he said, and Penny looked down at the oversized, light pink shirt she was wearing. “You always wear that one when you’re not feeling good,” Peter explained. He abandoned his Lucky Charms to feel Penny’s forehead. “You’re definitely a little warm, Pen. You should stay home.”
Penny was shaking her head before he finished. “No. I’m fine. I have one last exam in AP Lit, and you know Mr. Gardner doesn’t do make ups.” Peter made a face. He did know. They both despised the man’s rigidity and often talked about it at length. “It’s Friday, anyway. I’ll take a nap after school.”
He looked at her skeptically before sighing. “Okay. But we’re coming right back home and watching a movie. No homework, no Spider-Man. Just cuddles and tv.”
“That sounds perfect.” It took all of Penny’s self control not to whimper. She wanted to ask him to snuggle with her right then, forget school. But she took a breath, forced back the tears threatening to fall (she was also very emotional when she was sick), and went to grab the instant oatmeal.
After breakfast, the twins made their way to school. Peter chatted the whole way, obviously trying to distract his miserable sister, and silently cheered when he was able to earn a few small smiles.
The promise of cuddles and an evening being taken care of by her brother carried Penny through the day. She nearly lost control of the dam holding her tears when Flash, who always extended his taunting to both Parkers, made some stupid comment.
But MJ came back with a snappy response and took Penny’s hand. Penny shot her a grateful smile, so glad that her brother’s girlfriend liked her so well, and was able to make it through the day. She was even fairly confident about the test, though she honestly didn’t care all that much about what she got on it at this point. She was just happy to be done.
Finally, finally the last bell rang, and Penny had to restrain herself from cheering. She and Peter walked home, and as soon as they opened the door, Penny was in her room, changing into her comfiest pajamas. Trailing a blanket behind her, she made her way to the couch, where Peter was already set up, his arm extended out for her to snuggle under.
The relief was instantaneous. She burrowed into his side, shivering in delight. Peter chuckled.
“What movie would you like, honorary spider?”
Penny giggled. The last time Peter and Penny had hung out with Black Widow, Nat had insisted they be the spider trio. When Penny had pointed out that she had no Spider qualities, the other two had brushed it off, saying she was an honorary spider. Very prestigious, indeed.
“Uh, I think I’m in the mood for Episode IV. I need a comfort movie.”
Peter pulled up A New Hope, and ran his hand through his sister’s hair, gently raking out each curl. Soon, Penny’s head was feeling exceptionally heavy, and she laid it down onto Peter’s shoulder. Her breathing evened out, and then she was blissfully asleep.
***
When Penny woke up, the first thing she was conscious of was the darkness. She’d obviously been asleep for a number of hours. The second thing was pain. Her head, her throat, her eyes. Everything was on fire. The last thing she realized was that she was alone.
“Peter,” she croaked out, her throat chafing. She tried again, putting some more volume into the word. “Peter!”
She was about to panic, but then she saw the note.
Penny,
You were completely out, and I got a S-M emergency alert. I’ll be back in just a few hours. If you wake up before I get home, I’m sorry. I’ll get back as soon as I can. There’s some Motrin and water on the table for you.
Love you.
Peter
Suddenly, Penny was crying. She couldn’t help it. She was sick, she was hurting, and she was alone. She didn’t blame Peter for leaving, but she just wanted him back. Needed him back. The tears wouldn’t stop, which just made her headache worse, which just made her cry more. It was a ridiculous, vicious cycle.
Her fevered, mushy brain tried to grasp hold of someone, anyone, who might be able to fulfill the need to be snuggled, cause her blanket and pillow weren’t cutting it. She grabbed her phone and clicked on the first number that came to mind. It rang twice before-
“Hey, sweetheart! How’re you doing?” Tony's voice rang out from the other end of the phone. Penny opened her mouth, but only a sob came out. “Penny. What’s wrong?” He asked sharply, and she heard him suiting up already.
“Don’t feel good,” she managed to get out, her chest continuing to heave. “P-Peter’s on patrol and May’s w-working.”
“Oh, piccina,” he said, sympathy replacing the panic in his voice. “You at home?”
“Yeah. It’s d-dark.”
“I’m on my way. I’ll stay on the line.”
Tony’s voice held the dark at bay until he was knocking on the door. Penny forced herself up to let him in, and Tony was out of his suit and hugging her to his chest as soon as the door was open. He scooped her up, brought her back to the couch, and held her as her sobs and shivers slowly subsided.
“Sorry. I just, I fell asleep snuggling with Peter and when I woke up he was, he was gone.”
“And let me guess. You’re just as clingy as he is when you’re sick?” Tony asked, chuckling slightly. Penny nodded, then smiled as he wrapped the blanket around her and pulled her into his side. “Well, I’m not going anywhere. I’m glad you called me, sweetheart.”
“Thanks,” Penny whispered, her body aching but the need for comfort and contact had finally subsided, making it manageable.
After a little while, Tony started to move, making Penny whine.
“You need food, piccina. I’m just going to go get you some toast and cocoa.” Penny pouted, but let go of the arm she’d held hostage to keep him there.
Tony returned shortly with the promised food and some medicine, and Penny gratefully took it all. Once her belly was slightly filled and the medicine took the edge off the ache in her body, she started dozing off again, snuggled tight into Tony’s side.
Penny was just starting to dream about swinging through New York when a noise jolted her awake and made both her and Tony jump three feet into the air.
“Peter,” she gasped, a hand tight to her chest.
“You nearly gave us a heart attack, kid,” Tony complained.
“Sorry,” Peter said, but his grin negated the apology and Penny rolled her eyes at him. “What are you doing here, Mr. Stark?”
“Well, Ms. Spider here woke up and you were gone, and apparently she’s just as sticky as you are when she’s sick. So I came to fill in.”
Peter tapped the spider emblem and his suit fell away. He threw it over a chair, and then squished himself onto the couch on the other side of Tony.
“I gotta get in on the cuddle action!”
“Geez, you two are a pair,” Tony griped playfully, and then yelped as Peter dug an elbow into his side in retaliation. “Watch it, underoos.”
“Oh, you love me,” Peter giggled, and Tony simply wrapped his arms around his kids in response, pulling them closer.
Eventually, they decided to order soup and watch Episode V, and soon Tony was trapped between two sleeping, snoring spider babies. (He’ll never admit that he took about 27 photos and texted both Pepper and Rhodey to gush about their cuteness.)
May came home just as the movie was ending, and he looked up, hopeful that she would help him get out of his predicament. As much as he loved being snuggled up with the Parker twins (gosh, he really was going soft) he couldn’t feel his arm and really needed to stretch his leg. But May took one look, snapped a picture, and laughed.
“Nope. Sorry. You won’t be leaving for another two days. Get comfortable,” she said, heading into the kitchen.
“That’s not funny, May,” he called. “MAY!”
All he got in response was a laugh.
#comfortember#comfortember 2020#mine#i freaking love Penny Parker#Peter and Penny Parker#i love my iron dad and spidey son
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I Won't Miss You Much
Illinois x gender neutral!reader
@just-bts-trash-00 ty for the prompt
A/N: the title is a lie from our very own adventurer. Illinois being a lonely boy and getting a taste of his own medicine I guess. He leaves for adventures for weeks on end and just goes "haha y/n will be fine" yeah it's not so GOOD IS IT, ILLY? sorry I'm tired. Uuuuuuh comedy??? And fluff??? I took a jab at Hallmark movies at one point lol. Rated T for cursing. I didn't intend for the end to be suggestive but I think that's what happened. Enjoy!
Word Count: 2.8k
--
Illinois drove back home, smiling from ear to ear. He'd just found an entire chest of treasure. Gold, silver, jewels, you name it. He'd give a lot of it to museums, like always, but even with what he'd have left, he wouldn't have to adventure for a month! A month to spend time with you. That sounded lovely.
He'd been going on a lot of adventures recently, so you two didn't see each other much. He was pretty okay with it, but he knew how much you wanted to spend time with him. This was a great opportunity. He didn't call to tell you he was coming home. He wanted to surprise you.
He pulled into the driveway, turning the car off and walking up to the door. He knocked 7 times in a rhythmic pattern. He heard a bit of shuffling from inside before you opened the door a crack. Upon seeing your boyfriend, your eyes widened and you threw the door open.
"Illinois?" You asked, confused. "What are you doing here?"
"This is my house?" He laughed. You pulled him into a hug and he backed you into the house, closing the door with his foot.
"I thought you'd be gone until tomorrow…" you said and pulled out of the hug.
"I wanted to come home early," he shrugged. "Besides, I don't have to adventure for a month." You blinked at him.
"A… a month?" You repeated with less enthusiasm.
"Yeah! So we can spend a lot of time together, just like you want."
"Oh…"
"What's wrong? Were you planning on breaking up with me?" He chuckled. He looked behind you, seeing a suitcase on the couch. He looked back at you and frowned. "Please don't break up with me…"
"Oh! Oh, no, no, no! That's not what that's for!" You reassured. "I just…"
"What?"
"I'm… going on a business trip…"
"Business trip? To where?"
"Uh… Brazil…"
"Brazil?"
"Yeah…" you said apologetically. "A client hired me to take photos… in Brazil… I'm sorry…"
"It's alright," Illinois sighed. "We can have quality time after you get back."
"I'm gonna be gone for a month…"
"What? Why?"
"They want me to take pictures of everything. Families, animals, there's a parade that'll happen… I have to be there." You checked your phone. "And I my flight leaves soon, so I have to go now." You walked over to the couch and grabbed your suitcase, then back up to Illinois.
"Alright." He nodded. You gently kissed him, and pulled away all too soon for his liking.
"I love you! Goodbye!" You said as you walked past him to your car.
"Love you too…" he answered. You put your suitcase in the trunk and got into the driver's seat. You waved goodbye to Illinois as you pulled out of the driveway and headed to the airport.
Illinois stood at the doorway for a minute. So, he couldn't spend time with you. That was fine! You were a fantastic photographer, he couldn't blame people for wanting to hire you all the way from Brazil. He'd miss you a bit, but he'd be fine. I mean, you spent days, even weeks on end without him. He'd be completely fine.
--
Illinois was completely not fine. It had been three days since you left and he already felt like dying. How the hell did you last without him? More importantly, how was he supposed to survive without you?
The first day was probably the best one. He slept on the couch because of how tired he was. When he woke up in the morning, he went through the basics. He took a shower, washed his face, changed his clothes, brushed his teeth, and ate breakfast. He usually woke up before you, so he knew how to cook for himself. He was pretty awake when he got up, so he didn't make any coffee. He just made some of your chamomile tea. It was really good, he didn't know why he didn't try it before. He went through the rest of a pretty boring day. He watch TV, read a book, made lunch, watched some more TV, went through all of his trophies from adventures, made dinner, then fell asleep.
The second was a bit more chaotic. He was more tired that day than the first day, but he made tea instead of coffee again. He remembered you had told him that a brownie recipe you knew went very well with the tea, so he tried to make it. You were out of eggs, so he went to the store to buy some. Once he did, he got started on the brownies.
Now when I say he set the kitchen on fire, this dumbass set the kitchen on fucking fire.
He had made the batter and put it into a pan, and then into the oven. He decided to watch TV while he waited on the brownies. He landed on a Hallmark Christmas romance movie. That was a bad idea, because he fell asleep almost instantly.
He awoke to the smell of smoke and the alarm frantically beeping. He jumped up and ran into the kitchen. He swung the oven open and threw the extremely burnt baking onto the floor. He grabbed a nearby towel and waved at the air until the alarm stopped He wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, noticing he was sweating.
"Well, that's unfortunate," he sighed. He looked at the time. 10:24. There was still time for brunch.
He decided to make an omelette for himself.
He made the omelette for the most part, and let it sit on the stove for a minute. He wanted to make sure it was just right. he walked over to the couch and sat down, deciding to rest his eyes for a minute. The brownie incident was very stressful. Yet again, instead of just sitting there, he fell asleep.
For the second time this same damn day, Illinois woke up to the smell of smoke and the fire alarm beeping like mad. this time, he didn't jump up because he didn't think it'd be that bad. he slowly walked into the kitchen and almost screamed when he saw that his omelet was currently on fire. He panicked, not knowing what to do, because you two had an electric stove. What was he supposed to do? Throw some water on it? He looked around for a moment before seeing the towel he had to use to wave the smoke away. He grabbed it and threw it on top of the piece of breakfast, patting it to make sure it died. After about a minute, he gently lifted the towel. The fire was out. He sighed and, again, waved the smoke from the smoke alarm to get it to stop beeping. Illinois quit trying to make breakfast and just took some of your cereal. He honestly thought that that was going to catch on fire as well, so he stayed a little bit away from it at all times. Once he finished his cereal and his tea, he went back to the couch and just collapsed. he decided that another quick nap was in order, given the chaos that happened that day.
The rest of the day was pretty calm. He watched TV, went to the store to buy some other food, made lunch, watched some more TV, read a book and got takeout for dinner because he didn't feel like cooking again.
The third day was the one where he finally started to feel the effects of you not being there. It was a Wednesday. You always woke up early on Wednesday. He wasn't sure why, and neither were you. But you always woke up at the same time as him and made breakfast. He always made the coffee before hand so you can be more awake. And that's exactly what he did. He woke up, went through the motions, went into the kitchen, and made coffee. He got two mugs from the pantry and set them down on opposite sides of the table. When eating breakfast, you two always sat across from each other so you could talk. Illinois poured coffee into both of the cups and sat down. He stared across from his seat at the table for a moment, seeing the empty chair, and realizing that you were, in fact, not here.
And then he broke down.
He missed you. Oh, God, he missed you so much. How long were you supposed to be going? A month? And how long have you been gone? 3 days? He wouldn't make it. He couldn't make it. He started to pace around the kitchen.
"Ok… ok… you're ok…" he told himself. "You've been away from them for a longer amount of time, you can handle a month."
But the thing about Illinois being away from you for long, long, long amounts of time was that he had something to do. He'd be on an adventure. He'd be in some temple ruins, or a cave, or something of the sort running for his life. But this time, you were the one with the job, and he had absolutely nothing to do. Illinois didn't have many friends, mostly because he adventured so much. He was honestly pretty surprised when you agreed to date him. Now he realized why you wanted to spend more time together.
Okay. Okay. This was fine. He just had to find something to do… What did normal people do when they were bored?
He went to the museum. It was pretty interesting, and they were doing a lecture on treasures that he had donated there. He figured that could be pretty fun. He soon found that trying to correct to the tour guide on every single thing he was saying was not the best thing to do, because he got kicked out.
The next day, he went to the zoo. He informs people on the different types of spiders and bats and bugs that lived in caves. Heated ventured for so long that he figured it would be smart to learn the kind of animals he'd come into contact with when he went somewhere. Everyone was very interested in it, until he decided to take a tarantula out of its enclosure. Again, he got kicked out.
Third time's a charm. The next day, he went to the park. He sat on a bench and read a book and watched the kids play on the playground. One kid walked up to him and asked him if he was in an adventurer.
"Why, yes I am," he said smugly, "do you want to be one when you grow up?"
"No, you just remind me of Indiana Jones," the child answered. Illinois' hand squeezed the book in anger.
"Well, could Indiana Jones do this?" He asked while unsheathing his gun. He shot a nearby tree a few times to make a smiley face. He smirked at the kid.
"Probably," they shrugged and walked away from him. He snarled.
"Fuckin' kids…" he mumbled. A parent had apparently called the police on him, because he ended up in jail. They told him he had a phone call, so he called Mark.
"Hey, Mark! So, uh… I'm in jail," he said, trying to keep his cool, "I need you to come get me…"
"Dammit!" Mark cursed.
"What's wrong?"
"I bet Wilford that you would get arrested a week after Y/N left." He explained. "He bet 4-5 business days…"
"Ha! Told you!" Illinois heard another voice from Mark's end of the line.
"Oh, shut up!" Mark yelled. "Listen, uh… I'll get there soon as I can. Bye." He said and hung up. Illinois sighed and slumped on a bench.
This was gonna be a long month…
--
Illinois had the most boring month of his entire fucking life. For the first half of it, he sat in his living room, watching romcoms and almost crying because he wanted to be lovey-dovey with you. Why should these assholes get to be together? They were cheating on the one girl's boyfriend! She can have two spouses, but he can't be with his one?
For the second half, Illinois stopped being such a pissy little fuck and actually did things. He learned how to play the guitar, he finished three books, and he painted a picture from a Bob Ross video.
It was awful.
He was so completely bored without you. He hadn't realized how much you'd improved his life up to that point. You two had figured out how to video call halfway through the month, but you were almost always busy or asleep when he was ready. It was horrible.
But now, it was over.
You got back today.
And Illinois was fucking elated.
He jumped into his car and went through three red lights to get there, not to mention he was going 50mph in a 40mph zone. This man was going to die before he was late. He didn't even give a shit he was 5 hours early, he was gonna fucking wait for you at the airport. He brought a blanket and snacks, he'd be fine.
He took a nap after an hour, and woke up three hours after that. For the next two hours, he looked at pictures of you and thought about what he'd do with you when you got back. Finally, the time came when your plane was supposed to land. He knew it'd be a bit after that, but he stuffed his blanket and leftover snacks in his backpack and ran up to where you were supposed to enter the airport. He didn't have a sign, which he probably should have, but he'd find you soon enough. He looked through the crowd of people exiting the plane. All he saw were old rich people and young rich people. He looked across the herd of people, searching for any hint of your suitcase. You had gotten annoyed with the fact that you kept mistaking yours for other people's, so he bought you a neon rainbow suitcase. That didn't seem to be very useful at this point in time. He felt a buzz on his thigh. Groaning, he checked his phone. It was a text from Mark.
Hey! It said, Is Y/N home yet?
Illinois growled.
That's what I'm looking for.
Tell me when you see them
Sure thing. Illinois shoved the phone back into his pants, continuing his search. He suddenly saw a flash of color out of the corner of his eye. He whipped his head to the side.
There you were, trudging your suitcase along the floor. Your hair was all over the place, you were dragging your feet, and even from where he was, he saw the bags under your eyes. You were a hot mess.
In his eyes, you were an angel on Earth.
He wanted to be patient and keep up his suave persona. He noticed himself bouncing in his spot a bit, a smile forming on his lips. If he waited any longer, he swore to God he was going to explode. He eventually decided it wasn't worth it, and dashing over to you.
You were so tired. You were so, so very tired. The people who hired you were so nice, but they never fucking slept. Anytime they did something, they wanted you to take a picture of it. Mostly because they'd just gotten married, and you could respect their enthusiasm, but holy shit. Not to mention the PARADE. You got no rest. None. You couldn't wait to get home and just relax with your boyfriend…
Speaking of which, wasn't he supposed to pick you up?
You saw something coming towards you in your peripheral vision and turned, only to see said boyfriend sprinting at you. You opened your mouth to scream, but the wind was knocked out of you by Illinois pulling you into the tightest hug you've ever experienced and you simply wheezed.
"Oh my God, I missed you so much," he nearly cried, "do not ever do that to me again, please…" in response, you coughed. He realized you were having trouble inhaling and loosed his grip. He didn't let go.
"I missed you too…" you wheezed. He stood holding you for a second. A couple of girls giggled as they walked past you two. You flushed.
"Illinois, you're embarrassing me…" you whined.
"Oh?" He asked, the smirk audible in his voice. He pulled out of the hug and crashed his lips against yours. You basically collapsed into it and he had to hold you up against his body. He pulled away after a minute. You sighed.
"Can we go home now?" You pleaded.
"Of course, darlin'! We gotta spend some time together!" He answered. You let out a soft whimper.
Looks like you weren't getting your rest anytime soon.
my phone's at 5% lololol.
#ahwm#ahwm illinois#ahwm x reader#a heist with markiplier#a heist with markiplier illinois#illinois#illinois iplier#illinois markiplier#illinois the adventurer#illinois jones#illinois x reader#illinois x male!reader#illinois x female!reader#illinois x gender neutral!reader#illinois x you#illinois x y/n#x reader#x reader fanfiction#x male reader#x female reader#x gender neutral reader#x you#x y/n#markiplier#markiplier egos#markiplier egos x reader
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Unforeseen dangers ch. 4
Summary: As Peter recovers from his capture by Ross, a photo of him with Tony and the Avengers leaks and is splashed all across the media. Luckily, no one can figure out who he is and everyone thinks the buzz will die down. However, the public’s interest has been ignited. While Tony worries it’s only a matter of time before Peter’s identity is exposed, Peter isn’t as concerned. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen anyway?
Read on AO3.
________________________________________________________
A knock sounded on Peter’s bedroom door just as he finished the last equation of the problem set in front of him.
“Kid, can I come in?” Tony’s voice came from the other side of the door.
“Sure.” He answered.
His dad walked in, a tense expression on his face. He wondered if it was from the same thing that’d put a similar look on Pepper’s face.
“Doing your math homework?” Tony asked when he got close enough to see the open textbook and the sheet of paper with the completed problem set to the side of it.
Peter nodded. “I just finished it.”
Tony ruffled his hair. “Want me to check your answers?”
“No I got it.” Peter said, trying to fix his mussed up curls.
His dad watched him fondly for a moment, amusement warring with worry on his face.
Peter frowned. “Is everything ok?”
“Everything’s fine,” Tony answered quickly, “but there’s something I need to talk to you about.”
Peter’s heart leaped to his throat. Had Tony figured out Peter’s plan to change his name? Was he unhappy about it? But how had he found out? Pepper wouldn’t have told. Had someone else? Or was it just his dad’s uncanny ability to somehow know everything that happened in his Tower? Maybe FRIDAY had squealed?
“Um what-what’s up?” He asked, trying not to sound as nervous as he felt.
His dad sighed, sliding his homework off to the side so there was a clear spot on his desk where he could sit down.
“Watch any TV recently?” Tony asked.
Peter blinked. That was not at all what he’d been expecting.
“Um I watched a few episodes of Love it or List it last night.”
“I thought I told you that show would rot your brain.”
“I like it.”
Tony shook his head with a sigh, but Peter could tell he didn’t actually care.
“What about today? Did you watch anything today?”
“No. Why? Did something happen?” Had some sort of world catastrophe occurred that he was unaware of?
“Yes…and no.” Tony answered.
“Wow that’s cryptic.” Peter joked, trying to lighten the solemn mood that’d fallen over his room. “Are you actually going to tell me or am I supposed to guess?”
Tony took a deep breath as if to bolster himself before he answered, “Someone leaked a photo.”
“Ok…” That answer was just as vague.
“A photo of us.”
Peter’s mouth fell open as he tried to absorb the words and what they meant. “What? But who would—? When did—?” He could only get out clipped, incomplete fragments, but his dad seemed to understand all the same.
“Some government aide leaked the photo of us together on the couch after the Accords signing. The press is having a heyday with it.” Tony answered.
Peter winced. Oh. That was bad.
Tony continued, “It’s playing on all the major network stations. Everyone wants to know who you are and what your connection is to me.”
Peter frowned, staring blankly at his math homework for a moment as he tried to process the news.
“What-what does this mean?” He asked, looking up to meet Tony’s worried eyes.
Tony licked his lips and answered slowly, “It means…we’re going to have to be a lot more careful in the future to not be seen together.”
“But why? If they already know who I am?” Peter didn’t really understand. Why did they need to be careful if the cat was already out of the bag?
“No. They don’t know.” His dad shook his head. “The photo isn’t very good quality. I can barely tell it’s you. They just know I was sitting with some kid.”
Peter scrunched his nose, not really loving that description. “So what are we going to do about it?”
“Nothing. We’re going to do nothing and let it run its course and eventually it’ll die down. We’re not telling anyone who you are or what your relationship with me is. But like I said, we’re going to have to be careful. We can’t go out in public together for the time being. One good photo and they might be able to figure out who you are.”
“And that would be bad.” He said, but it came out more as a question.
Tony frowned as he answered, “Yes Peter, that would be bad. If the press found out you were my son, they’d hound you nonstop, and it wouldn’t be for only a couple weeks. It’d be forever. The unfortunate curse of being a Stark.”
Peter swallowed hard, thinking of the paperwork he’d just signed to officially make himself a Stark.
“And that wouldn’t even be the worst part.” Tony explained, looking stricken. “Certain people might see you as a tool they could use to try to get to me. You’d never be safe, and I don’t want that for you.”
“They could try,” Peter smiled, trying to reassure his dad, “but I’m Spiderman. I’m not so easy to get to.”
“Don’t underestimate the crazies.” Tony shook his head. “It’s not a risk I’m willing to take.”
“So, if we’re not going to do anything about it, then why are you telling me?” He asked.
“Because I want you in the loop. In case things come up or go wrong, I want you to know how serious it could be.”
“Ok. I guess that makes sense.” Peter’s brow furrowed as another thought struck him. “Wait. Is this the emergency Pepper got called back to deal with?”
Tony nodded.
Peter immediately felt guilty. Because of him, because of something to do with him, Pepper had needed to run back to work to deal with the fallout.
Tony must’ve seen the guilt on his face. “Don’t worry kid. Compared to some of the things I’ve put her through, this is nothing. And the game plan’s simple. We’re doing nothing. We’re not confirming or denying anything or making a statement. It’s literally no extra work for Pep.”
“I don’t know.” Peter mumbled. “She looked pretty stressed.”
Tony waved a hand in dismissal. “She’ll be fine. Believe me. The woman’s as tough as nails.”
That got a smile out of him. “I know.”
“Good.” His dad ruffled his hair again and he groaned in fake complaint. “You’re done with your homework, right?”
“Yeah.” It wasn’t exactly a lie. He’d done the problem set he’d been working on, but he still had a mountain load to do by the end of winter break.
“What do you say we go down to the workshop and work on the new updates to my suit?”
“I’m in.” He stood, always eager to work on the Ironman armor.
Tony got off the desk and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they walked out of his room and to the workshop together. It should’ve been comforting but Peter still didn’t feel completely at ease. Even though Tony had tried to reassure him, he couldn’t shake the troubled look on his dad’s face from his mind.
“Hey Ned.” Peter answered his phone as he laid on his mattress. Tony had sent him to bed an hour ago but he still hadn’t been able to fall asleep. The phone call was a welcome interruption from staring at the ceiling.
“Dude you’re on TV! You’re famous!” Ned erupted in excitement.
Peter groaned and rubbed his eyes.
“Have you seen the news? Like literally everyone is talking about you. I’m friends with a celebrity!”
“I haven’t seen it yet but I’ve heard.” Peter sighed. “And no one can know it’s me Ned. You have to keep it to yourself. You can’t even tell your parents, got it?”
“Oh man.” Ned whined. “Are you serious?”
“Yes. I mean it.” Peter reiterated. “Tony will flip if someone finds out that I’m the one in the picture.”
“You don’t think someone’s going to figure it out?”
“I don’t know. Tony didn’t seem to think so. I guess it’s not that great of a picture.”
Ned hummed. “Yeah it is pretty blurry. I might not have even known it was you except I knew it was you.”
Peter snorted.
“That sucks though dude. I thought I was going to be famous by proxy.” Ned said with disappointment.
Peter grinned. “I don’t think it works that way.”
“I already had an awesome tag line idea for my twitter.”
“Uh huh.”
“Do you want to hear it?”
“Sure. Why not?”
“It was going to be, ‘Best friend of Ironkid. Friend of the Avengers.’ What do you think?”
“I think maybe keep working on it.” Peter laughed. “And my name wouldn’t be Ironkid.”
“Are you kidding? The media’s not all that creative. If they found out you were Ironman’s kid I’m pretty sure they’d dub you Ironkid.”
Peter made a face in disgust. “Oh god I hope not. That’s reason enough to make sure they don’t find out.”
Ned laughed over the phone.
“So I guess for now I have to stick with secretly being Spiderman’s guy in the chair?”
“And Peter Parker’s best friend. Sorry.”
“It’s all right. I like that role better anyway.” Peter could hear Ned’s honest smile in his voice. “Besides, we both know I probably do better work behind the scenes than out in the spotlight.”
“Yeah and it might sound fun at first, but it would totally suck to not be able to go anywhere without being recognized.”
“Yeah you’re right. Although, I bet we could get some sweet Comic-Con tickets if people knew who you were.”
“Tony can get those for us anyway.” Peter rolled his eyes. “And if no one knows who I am, we can go and not get mobbed, and actually have fun.”
“I guess you have a point.” Ned agreed.
Peter heard muffled voices coming from across the speaker of Ned’s phone.
“Um sorry dude but my mom says I have to go to bed.” Ned said. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Ok. Good night Ned.” Peter said with a smile.
“Good night.”
Peter plugged his phone back into the charger and set it on the nightstand. Fatigue leadened his eyelids, and he closed his eyes as he settled into his soft pillows. Talking to Ned had at least helped him finally destress. Sleep was no longer so hard to find.
“How does that feel?” Ross sneered at him as he stabbed a knife straight into his thigh.
Peter couldn’t hold back a cry of pain. He instinctively tried to grab the offending object but he couldn’t move his arms. They were tied behind him as he sat helpless in a chair.
“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Ross said with grim pleasure as he slowly twisted the knife.
It burned. Electric shocks of agony danced through his leg.
“Stop.” He moaned and crumpled forward at his waist, but he only had enough slack to make it a few inches.
Ross snorted in amusement.
“You want me to stop? Oh no. We’re just getting started.” Ross said and ripped the knife out of his leg. It hurt almost as much as getting stabbed in the first place and Peter cried out again. He panted as blood bubbled from the wound, too much too fast.
Ross leaned forward and placed the edge of the blood coated knife on his bare chest.
“No.” He pleaded. “Please.”
The corner of Ross’s lip twisted up in a crazed smile and he pressed down.
Peter watched as blood flowed out and around the knife as it carved into his skin.
“No!” He tried to thrash away but he couldn’t as Ross trailed the knife across his chest to form a burning line of red.
Peter couldn’t help it. He was crying now. It hurt. And there was so much blood dripping down his chest and out of his leg. He was going to die. Oh god. Ross wasn’t going to stop. He was going to keep going until he slowly killed him.
The man placed the knife a couple inches below the line of open skin and repeated the process, forming another crimson line of open flesh. Peter didn’t want to look but he couldn’t help it. The cuts were deep enough he thought he could see flashes of white bone underneath.
“Stop. Stop! Please.” He begged through his sobs.
Ross ignored him and continued the process, dragging the knife over his skin to make a third line.
Peter screamed. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t.
“Help! Someone please! Help!” He yelled hoarsely even though he knew it was hopeless. He was all alone with Ross.
“No one’s coming to save you.” Ross taunted. “Not even Daddy.”
Peter whimpered at that. He wanted his dad. Ross carved another slice across his front.
“Dad!” He screamed this time, clenching his eyes shut at the pain. He knew it was pointless and that Ross was right. Tony wasn’t coming to save him, but he couldn’t help instinctively calling for him. “Dad! Help! Please. Dad!”
Ross gripped his shoulders and gave them a firm shake. Why had Ross stopped hurting him? Peter’s eyes snapped open in confusion.
Instead of Ross, all he saw was a darkened figure leaning over him, holding his shoulders.
“You’re all right.” The figure soothed. Not Ross. Peter blinked and immediately recognized his dad. He took in the rest of his surroundings. He was in his room. In bed. He spread a hand across his chest but there was nothing there. His leg was fine too. Nothing hurt. It’d all just been a bad dream. Ross didn’t have him anymore. Right. Tony had saved him. And Ross was dead.
Tony sat perched on the edge of the bed and Peter wasted no time in sitting up and wrapping his arms around the man.
“You’re all right.” His dad repeated softly into his hair.
Peter closed his eyes and melted into the comfort.
“I’m sorry.” He mumbled. He had no idea what time it was, but Tony was wearing pajamas so Peter knew he’d woken him up.
His dad shushed him and rubbed a hand over his back.
After a long minute of silent comfort, Tony said, “You were calling for me.”
Peter knew it was a question as much as a statement. His dad was offering him a chance to talk about his dream but he wasn’t going to force it.
“I was back there.” Peter whispered into Tony’s chest. “Ross had me.”
Tony made a sound of displeasure but Peter continued, “He was hurting me and he wouldn’t stop and I couldn’t get free and no one was coming to save me and I just wanted you.”
“I’m right here.” Tony said, squeezing him even tighter. “You’re safe.”
“It felt so real.” Peter mumbled.
“It wasn’t.” Tony tangled a hand in the hair at the back of his head. “You’re not there. And Ross is gone. He’ll never hurt you again.”
“I know. It’s stupid. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not stupid.” Tony said firmly. “What you went through was traumatic. Someone took you, held you hostage, and hurt you. I’d be surprised if you weren’t having nightmares about it. Hell, I’m having nightmares about it.”
“You are?” Peter pulled back and saw the truth in his dad’s eyes.
“Yeah.” Tony tried to smile as he palmed his cheek, but he just looked sad. “Of course. Someone took you from me and hurt you as a way to get to me. That’s the very definition of my worst nightmare.”
“Really?”
“Yes. Really.” Tony rubbed a thumb over his cheek. “You’re the most important thing to me. How many times do I have to tell you that before you finally start to believe me?”
“Lots.” Peter said and grinned. “Maybe because I like to hear it.”
Tony let out a short huff of amusement and dropped the hand on his face so he could ruffle his hair. “You seem better.”
“Yeah.” He agreed. He did feel better. With his dad so close, the fear from his nightmare seemed miles away now instead of lurking in the room. “Thanks.”
“Think you’ll be able to get back to sleep?” Tony asked. “It’s still pretty late.”
“I think so.” He said even though he wasn’t sure. The yawn that escaped him a couple seconds later seemed to contradict his doubts.
Tony nodded and stood, fluffing his pillow for him and then gently guiding him backward to land on it. Once he was settled, his dad pulled the covers up to his chin and brushed the hair off his forehead before lightly pressing a kiss there.
“Get some sleep.” His dad whispered.
Peter hummed in response, eyes already drifting closed. He expected to hear the door click shut as Tony walked out, but instead, a few moments later, he felt the other side of his bed tip. Peter cracked his eyes open and watched with a frown as his dad crawled into the other side of it.
“What are you doing?” He asked.
“Shh go to sleep.” Tony said, reaching a hand across the space between them to place it briefly over his eyes to close them. “I’m keeping the nightmares away.”
“Mine or yours?” Peter joked.
Tony chuckled. “Both.”
“Night dad.”
“Good night kiddo.”
“I love you.” He mumbled as sleep pulled irresistibly at him.
“I love you too.” His dad said back and Peter could hear all the fondness and love infused in the sentence. “Now go to sleep.”
Peter hummed tiredly in agreement. With his dad next to him, a sense of safety encompassed him, and he had no trouble slipping quickly back to sleep.
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Why I’d Make A Terrible Cult Member
In case you didn’t hear NXIVM founder and Ryan Gosling look-a-like, Keith Raniere,
was sentenced to 120 years in prison after being convicted of sex trafficking, racketeering and conspiracy after testimony that he had created a harem of sexual “slaves,” branded with his initials and kept in line with blackmail. There are currently two docu-series running right now (SEDUCED: INSIDE THE NXIVM CULT and THE VOW) that give you a chilling look into this cult. Both series are palatable and will have you saying – “How the hell did these people get pulled into a cult? Because from my couch I can tell you that would never happen to me!”
There is so much information out there about the NXIVM cult that I don’t feel the need to educate you on all their dastardly deeds. Instead, I want to ramble on about how the majority of us probably feel we could never be drawn in and held captive by a cult. Plus, after that election in the United States we could all use a wee laugh.
First…
The TOP FIVE Reasons WHY I’d Make A Terrible Cult Member
5. Terrible with Crowds
Does anyone really like crowds? Hoards of people gathering is a whole lot of stupid I just don’t want anywhere near me. Cults can’t survive without people. I suppose you could be a cult of one. If that is allowed, I want that. I brain-wash myself on a daily basis as is (‘Today is going to be awesome!’ ‘You absolutely do deserve a donut!’ ‘Drinking wine from a mug is considered sophisticated!’) so I feel I could make this work. Gym clothes are required clothing but will make an exception for all-day PJ’s on the rare Friday when I ‘just can’t even’.
4. Blindly Following Directions is Not My Strongest Quality
I am not a wanton rebel but I do fail (succeed) at being a part of a collective consciousness, especially where one person places themselves in charge of everyone else. While I don’t require for you to have degrees or letters of recommendations from heads of state, I must insist that you’re not a fascistic idiot. Also, you need to be a good person. Not just on the outside where you’re putting on a show for others, but on the inside where it really counts and shines through without you having to promote your intentions. There is just no way I am able to blindly follow directions from a person who I do not respect. And typically, I don’t respect anyone who craves and NEEDS control over a group of people, no matter the size, to make themselves whole. The bottom line here is: if you are this type of person and you attempt to snare me into your cult, I promise you I will be your problem child.
3. Isolation? Yes Please!
Cults wish to isolate you from your family and friends because then it becomes easier to indoctrinate you without any outside voices cluttering up your mind. Instead of isolating me from family and friends (who, I assure you would appreciate the break) it would be much more effective to separate me from my inside voices, of which there are many. Obviously, I am more attached to those voices than my family and friends and I bet my inside voices would eat your inside voices for breakfast, so if your intention is to try and control me you better be prepared for a fight similar to that of the Game of Thrones Battle of the Bastards. But seriously, I’m begging you… please isolate me from my inside voices. I could use some peace and quiet. This is a cry for help people!
2. Refusal to Have My Food Intake Monitored
The NXIVM cult preyed on women by forcing them to go to extreme measures in order to lose weight. They often had to take pictures of their food (counted and weighed on a scale) and ask permission to eat. Right away I’d have a serious problem with this bullshit. If I want a donut. I am going to eat a fucking donut. You want a picture of it? Ok, knock yourself out:
I’m eating this no matter your opinion.
I understand that withholding / limiting food (valuable protein, nutrients etc.) makes it easier to break someone down but just how far gone do you have to be to allow someone else to monitor and approve BY TEXT MESSAGE what you eat? I guess if we want to pull at this thread we can say organizations like WW, Jenny Craig and Nutrisystem “approve of” and even provide you with what they want you to eat in order to be successful if using their programs… and if I wanted to rip into them some more I could claim they are somewhat “cult-like”, but at least they don’t require naked, compromising photos of yourself just in case you fail to lose weight and they want to keep you accountable.
Confession time: when I go to a restaurant with friends and they want to “share” plates, I am not amused. Who the hell came up with this concept of “sharable plates”? If I want to order some crab cakes (usually two to a order) what makes you think I want to give you one in exchange for some of your fries? If I want fries, I will fucking order my own fries. Now that this secret is out… sorry to my friends who have politely forced me to share my food with them.
1. I Can’t Be Any More Brain-Washed Than I Already Am
BRAINWASHING: any method of controlled systematic indoctrination, especially one based on repetition or confusion.
Here’s a thought – we brainwash ourselves.
Well, first it’s our parents. And we don’t have much control over that for a long time. In that mix of original brainwashers is television with it’s cleverly made and repetitive commercials. We are being advertised AT from an early age and it’s a process that continues for our entire life. You don’t watch TV? Doesn’t matter if you own a cell phone or surf the web or have a pair of working eyes. It’s everywhere. You’re being convinced you need stuff. Or persuaded to believe in the magical powers that alcohol will give you (which through experience is NOT charm, grace or coordination). Just last week I realized I’ve been programmed to not give a flying fuck whenever I see a Kardashian. Or Mariah Carey. Or emails from Christian Mingle (please stop contacting me, you really don’t want this).
We brainwash ourselves into believing certain untruths in exchange for temporary happiness. I believe we all fall into this trap. Let’s be real and admit that life is fucking hard. Our collective goal is to be happy and to survive. If you need to convince yourself of some untruths for a short while in order to get through, you go right ahead. Just don’t let the lie take over your reality. It’s destructive. And you’ll miss out on how beautiful life can be if you don’t pull your head out of your own shit.
These two NXIVM documentaries really had me shaking my head in disbelief over just how these seemingly intelligent men and women fell for such a gigantic load of crap. To listen to this Keith Raniere speak and think to yourself “yes, here is a stable human being I want to follow who just happens to talk about how it would feel to rape a baby (it feels like nothing apparently) and requires us to kiss him on the lips when we say hello and goodbye” seriously puts your mental health into question. Am I right? Because I don’t actually know. Am I sitting in judgement of these cult members? Maybe just a little and that is simply because I believe myself to be… not smart, but not a total moron. Now having said that, I know that everyone is searching for spaces where they can belong. Where they feel comfortable enough to be themselves. Spaces that speak to them and people who mirror their desire to be better, do better. Their tribe, if you will.
If you were brand new to this planet and I told you about this activity that millions of people took part in, in some capacity, where they used a curved stick to chase around a hard rubber object on frozen water while wearing steel blades, you might give me a curious, tilted head look. You know, the one you give someone when you’re trying to determine whether or not they’re insane. Sports teams and especially their fans could be considered cult-like. Some people will shell out big $$$$ to attend the Super Bowl dressed head to toe in their team’s colors. Soccer fans in Europe have killed referees over what they felt was a bad call.
Look at this line-up:
This was for the release of the latest iPhone (12). All these people brought together by an inanimate object with the technology to make/receive phone calls, take photos, listen to your conversations and advertise to you across all your social media platforms. Oh, and it can tell you the time.
If you dig far enough into the NXIVM cult (beyond the “ring leaders” who profited financially and at the same time fed their perverted yearning for supremacy over others) you will inevitability come across people who were at their very core – lost. Lost and looking for purpose. Lost and looking for a place where they could belong. Lost and looking for something special. I don’t know about you, but when I am feeling lost and low on hope, I don’t always make the best decisions.
Time to go eat all the donuts.
And if you’re interested in making me a member of your cult, please PM me. I come with impeccable references as long as you don’t believe a word of what they’ll say. I really am a constant fucking delight.
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Quarantine Q&A
I was tagged by the lovely @gremlinquisitor ❤️ Sorry it took me so long to get round to doing this!
Tagging: anyone who feels up to it -- like Erin said in her own post, take care of yourself first, and if you don’t feel like you can talk about this, then please don’t try to force it. ❤️
Are you staying home from work or school?
My husband and I have both been working from home since mid-March. I was already pretty much working from home before that anyway (been doing it for about a decade), so I was used to it and therefore don’t feel my life has changed dramatically. We’re really lucky that our jobs can be done 100% from home -- March and April were really busy months for both of us work-wise, so I think that helped us both cope and feel useful.
In a weird way, lockdown didn’t/doesn’t upset or stress me out? I think it’s because I had a head start on worrying about the pandemic back in January: I have family in China/HK/SE Asia and I was really, really worried about them for a bit. I follow a few Chinese-language social media accounts of people based in China / East Asia and what was coming out of there was really, really bad -- sometimes worse than what was being reported in Western media -- and people over there were so angry and terrified for months before anyone in the West started worrying about it, I think.
So, by the time the pandemic hit the UK and lockdown was announced, I think I was just relieved that finally there was something I could “do” about what was going on in the world, if that made sense??? I’d been reading these first-hand anonymous accounts “on the ground” in Chinese for two months by that point, so I felt like I kind of knew what to expect physically and emotionally. (My family and family-friends out there are all fine as far as I know, btw.)
If you’re staying home, who’s with you?
My husband. 9 weeks into lockdown and we’re still very much enjoying having each other around! He misses his colleagues, but he doesn’t miss his commute. We have the odd Zoom party and catch up with his family on FaceTime (it’s weird how it took a pandemic for us to think of video-calling them instead of phoning them), but yeah, he’s been great lockdown company and I love having him home! I don’t want him to go back to work LMAO!
We work in the same room, but tend to be very good at focusing on our work during the work day, so we don’t really distract each other and give each other space when needed (mentally rather than physically, though; we live in a tiny flat with only like 3 rooms so it’s hard to give each other physical space). We play endless games of Civ6 against the other during breaks from work.
Are you a homebody?
Before 2020? No, not at all. But after lockdown started? I’ve been discovering the delights of just chilling at home with my husband, being busy and in-demand at work, writing, reading books, teaching myself Photoshop (working through an online course LMAO) and playing Civ.
Also I’ve been really happy about all the money I’m saving from not going out and not buying anything apart from food and books LMAO!
I’ve not really felt very talkative this year; and after lockdown started, that even extended to many of my real-life friends -- I’ve just felt happy staying at home and not talking to anyone except my husband, for some reason. (As an aside -- sorry to all of you on Tumblr and Discord for not chatting so much -- it’s not personal, it’s just whatever phase I’m going through, both IRL and online!) I’m not depressed or anything, I don’t think -- just happy doing my own thing for a bit.
An event that you were looking forward to that got cancelled.
The one that I was most gutted about was the Euro 2020 football tournament (soccer to you Americans of course) -- I had tickets to go to the final in July. But the organisers said they’ll hold the tournament next year and tickets will be valid, so I don’t feel so bad about it now.
I miss the gym the most, I think. Everything else has kind of sorted itself out (even cancelled events), but the gym / working-out thing hasn’t. I started doing some home workouts with resistance bands at first, but I’ve fallen out of the habit of that somewhat -- it’s just not the same as having an actual barbell in your hands.
I was also meant to go on holiday to Greece with friends (12 of us) but that’s been cancelled. Funnily enough, when lockdown was announced in the UK I was secretly relieved, because I had a lot of social events lined up and my social life had been so busy up to that point that I was starting to get rather overwhelmed with it all. Turns out I’m an extrovert with a strong introvert streak.
What movies have you watched recently? What shows are you watching?
Hmmmm.... not really so much movies, I think. Aside from Frozen 2 (again). We’re currently working our way more through the 1994 BBC TV series of the classic novel Middlemarch (because I’ve been reading it), but we tend to play Civ, or read, or bake/cook, rather than watch TV.
What music are you listening to?
Gosh, loads, haha! The Frozen 2 soundtrack. Ibiza clubland tunes (to remind me of good times, LOL). Listened to old Eurovision tracks over the weekend (to get me in the spirit, even if Eurovision 2020 was cancelled). Attended virtual concerts that my friends in music bands have been holding. Pretty much everything you can imagine, whenever the mood strikes. Today I was listening to Suede’s Singles.
What are you reading?
Right now I’m reading “Middlemarch” by George Eliot; I’ve been getting through lots of books since February, both fiction and non-fiction.
That said, I’ve not really felt like reading fanfic much -- stopped reading Dragon Age fanfiction in December or January (and completely fell out of the fandom for a while, too) so I’m really behind on every longfic I was following. I’m only just starting to catch up on it all, in May, although I don’t see myself being in fandom/online that much. I’ll get to all your fics eventually! I’m just slow 😄
What are you doing for self-care?
Lots of things, and I think they’re helping because I’ve been coping OK so far (sorry this list is so long!):
Staying offline -- especially off Tumblr and Discord and Twitter -- more often, which has really helped me get work done (sorry I’ve not been around much, though) and finally getting around to doing all those projects I didn’t have time to do / wasn’t home often enough to do is helping, especially when I can see progress being made
Weekly therapy sessions -- started these last year when my brother got very seriously ill; the therapy sessions have now moved online via video-call rather than face-to-face and in-person, but I’m still keeping up with them through the pandemic. I haven’t felt like I need it, tbh, but I figured it couldn’t hurt to keep having therapy just in case...
Being grateful for how lucky I am -- I’m still alive and well for now, as are my loved ones, my husband and I are still in jobs / earning money, and things could be a lot worse; for example, at least I’m still able to go for walks in the park: my brother is officially a “vulnerable category” person who has to stay completely indoors and self-isolate for 12 weeks, even though he’s in remission; he can’t even go to the shops to get food
Working -- it’s been really nice sometimes to keep busy. The nature of my work means that unfortunately I can’t completely switch off from the news, so I tend to look at less of the bad and sad news and consume more the “how does the pandemic affect my specific specialism or field” news -- I find that limiting my news consumption is helping
Husband and I go for a walk in the park in the sunshine once a day (it’s been warm and sunny in London ever since lockdown started in March) for like 45 minutes a day. We have a really lovely park and I’ve taken lots of nice nature photos, and have discovered parts of the park and our neighbourhood that we didn’t know before, which has been very exciting 😁
We’ve been cooking and baking a lot more because we’re not commuting, and we’ve got time to cook ourselves nicer / healthier meals, and experimenting with baking puddings and cakes.
Taking multivitamins and fish oil every day, with boosters for Vitamin D3 and magnesium -- I actually think the latter has helped me sleep better and helped with motivation this year, but who knows LOL
FaceTime with husband’s family -- I actually think this lockdown has improved the quality of our relationships there, and they’ve been really happy to chat to us more often than usual
Just... not pushing myself on anything: usually I’m a really chatty and sociable person, but this year I’ve been far less chatty and just not felt so sociable, and just enjoyed being away from people to read and write or whatever. My one and only goal in 2020 is to survive it -- literally, given that there’s a pandemic on, LOL. Anything else is a bonus.
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According to Plan
A/N: Chapter 8, here we go!
And away, and away we go!
~~~
Chapter 8
Ashton
~~~
The rest of the day went much more smoothly. We had Calum and Riley with us in French, and all eight of us had Stats together. We all laughed as we walked into math class and took our seats. “This is definitely one of the better class schedules I’ve had,” I said, clasping my hands behind my head.
I glanced over at Madison, her desk perfectly organized, her nose buried in a book. When the first bell rang, she closed her book and went to put it in her bag, stealing a glance at me. Rather than smiling, I winked at her. I let out a small giggle when her face flushed red.
I pulled a notebook out of my bag and dug around for a pen. I flipped it open to a page of the random doodles I’d been making all day. I continued my mindless doodling as Luke’s mom droned on about classroom expectations and the grading system. I stole glances every now and then at everybody: Mike was staring out the window and spinning his pen through his fingers, Riley was shoving Calum awake every time his head slouched, Crystal was twirling her hair, and Sierra was daydreaming. The only two out of our group paying any real attention were Luke and Madison, Madison because she needed to, and Luke because he’d get a whole lot worse than a simple detention if he didn’t.
When class was over, I walked Madison to her photo class before heading for the gym. “I can take you home after school if you want. We’re playing at your place,” I told her as we stood outside her classroom.
She smiled. Sure, I know I said I wanted to be alone to study, but I really don’t have that much to study.
I laughed, “I could’ve told you that. But, hey, if you get tired of alone time you can always come play games with us.”
I’ll keep that in mind. She stood on tiptoe to kiss me. I’ll meet you at my locker?
“I’ll be there,” I told her kissing her back before taking off to the gym.
For the next forty minutes, I pushed myself through a small workout before a series of soccer drills. My body moved with familiarity through exercise after exercise that I’d been doing for years. When the final bell rang I left the gym, my hair still damp from a quick shower. I stopped by my locker to make sure I wasn’t leaving anything behind before going over to where Madison was. “Hey, you ready?” I asked.
“Oh, she’s going with you?” Mike asked from the next locker.
She is right here, and yes, she is, Madison told him.
Mike put his hands up defensively, “Sorry, I’ve just been driving you around for the past 2 years, but sure, go with him.”
If you’re teasing me, you’re a jerk. If you’re actually upset, I’m sorry, but I thought you’d enjoy not having to take me everywhere.
“Deaf people drive, don’t they?” I asked.
“Yes and no,” Mike explained. “Deaf people with hearing aids or with Cochlear implants drive. But Madison doesn’t want the Cochlear implant, so she doesn’t drive either.”
“Cochlear implant…? Is that like a super advanced hearing aid?”
“Sort of? It’s like… there are levels of deafness. Madison’s tumors damaged her auditory nerves so bad that hearing aids couldn’t help her. But a Cochlear implant fixes that problem because it completely bypasses the damage by being connected right to her brain that processes sound. So yeah, super advanced hearing aid.”
“And you don’t want that?” I asked, turning my attention back to Madison.
She shook her head.
“Our parents could have done it when she was younger, but they wanted her to make that decision and asking your 10 year old if she wants to go to the doctor and have them drill into her brain… well…”
Would you let someone cut open your head twice, tough guy?
“Have you ever considered it since, though?” I asked.
She shrugged.
“Oh. Sorry. I don’t…” I paused, feeling like I was crossing a very huge line in her boundaries.
It’s okay to be curious. I have thought about it. I’m still weighing my options though. Can we go now?
I laughed and wrapped an arm around her, “Yeah, let’s go.”
“Oh, hey,” I said as we were stopped at a light a few blocks from school. “I’ve been thinking of different things we can do. Since you like movies, we could go to the drive-in.”
A drive-in? Yeah, that’d be fun.
“Cool, then this weekend I’ll take you on a proper date.”
How does driving to see a movie make a date more proper than watching a movie at home?
I took a moment to think about it. “Well…” I started, “some people think that you actually have to go somewhere for it to be an actual date.”
But why go out to do the same thing? Like if we’re watching a movie, does it really matter where? Like, if we were going to go out, why not do something that you can’t do at home… like mini golf or something?
I laughed. Only Madison would question everything I knew about dating. “Would you rather we go mini golfing instead?”
I didn’t mean that I didn’t like your idea. I’d still like to go to the drive-in. I’ve never been to one. It’s just… well I’ve always wondered if it really makes a difference. I’ve really enjoyed our 2 dates. It never occurred to me that location mattered.
“I’ve really liked our dates, too. But, like I said, some people only consider things to be a date if you actually go somewhere. Like listening to music at my house or watching a movie at yours would be considered just hanging out.”
Well, I’m not some people. In fact, I think that if a date’s definition lies solely in its location then that’s a pretty sad definition.
I laughed again. “Then what would be your definition of a date be?”
Quality time spent with a romantic interest, that is agreed by both parties to be a date.
“I think I like your definition a lot better,” I smiled.
She smiled back. That’s because it’s a rational one.
I continued to smile as I drove to her house. I really liked her. I liked the way her hand felt in mine. I liked the way she viewed the world differently than anyone I've ever met. I liked when her smiles were just directed at me. I liked the way she closed to eyes and breathed in everything around her, like she was trying to soak in every moment. I liked the way she was everything I could possibly need.
My smile continued well into playing videogames with the guys in the Cliffords’ basement. Without the girls, we were able to go through games without having to pause every few seconds; and without Madison, it was a pretty even match with each of us winning a few games.
The four of us were so deep into a trance- eyes glued to the screen, fingers rapidly hitting buttons- that we didn’t hear the basement door open, then shut, and the footsteps of someone coming down the stairs. So, who’s winning? Madison signed as she moved to block the TV. Somebody hit pause on their controller.
“Jesus, fuck, Mads!” Mike cursed, “You can’t just sneak up on people like that!”
She flipped him off. Ha-ha, the deaf girl sneaking up on people who can hear. You’re hilarious. She moved her way to the empty couch, a bowl of popcorn in her hands and water under her arm. She eyed the stats that were displayed on the pause screen. Hmm, looks pretty even.
“I thought you were studying?” Mike asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn.
It’s 4:30, she told him, as if that was the only explanation he needed.
“Shit, already?” Mike took out his phone, typing out a message, then shoving the phone back into his pocket.
“Well, we’re almost done with this game if you want to join in on the next one,” I told her.
She shook her head. That’s okay. I brought you guys some popcorn if you’re hungry. She placed the bowl on the coffee table before lounging into the couch. Did you want me to leave? she asked Mike after a few moments of silence.
“What?” Mike shook his head and looked up from his phone that had found its way back into his hand.
Your game? Did you want me to leave you guys alone?
“No, I actually gotta get going,” Calum said getting up. “I should probably spend a little time with Ry before I go home.”
I nodded, understanding. Unless it was a weekend, Calum had the earliest curfew of anyone I've ever met. It was part of the reason why he was top of our class; the other part being that he was basically a genius, ahead of Luke in every subject that wasn’t math. “You at your mom’s or dad’s this week?” I asked him.
“Dad’s,” Calum laughed, “just as I get used to home cooked meals again.”
I laughed with him. His dad had always been a terrible cook. I don’t remember his dad ever making us a grilled cheese that wasn’t burnt to a crisp. “Good luck, man.”
“Yeah, see ya.” He nodded a goodbye at the twins and Luke before heading up the stairs.
“I should get going, too,” Luke said, getting up himself. He had the second earliest curfew of anyone I knew- a byproduct of his mom being a teacher. “See ya, guys.”
“See ya,” we told him.
I stretched, suddenly feeling very awkward. I blew my breath out in a huff and clapped my hands down on my legs. “I should probably get going, too, I guess.”
Did I do something? Madison asked, chewing on her lip.
“Mads, it’s fine,” Mike told her.
Are you lying? She stared hard at our faces.
“It’s fine, really. Cal and Lu have ridiculous curfews,” I said.
Then why are you leaving? she countered.
“Because I haven’t written that assignment for French class like you have.”
Her eyes lit up. I was too busy organizing my photos I forgot about that!
Mike looked at her, “You forgot something? School-related? Yeah, right…” He picked up his controller and started playing on his own.
Well… no, I know about the assignment. I just don’t know what to write it on.
“He does this assignment every year. All you have to do is write about what you did this summer and what you hope you’ll accomplish this year,” I explained.
And then present it to the class, she added.
“It’s really not that bad. It’s just a silly activity he uses to assess our abilities to write and speak in French.”
Yay, talking. My favorite...
“C’mon, we can help each other write them. I can even practice mine because you can’t make fun of how badly I speak French.”
Ha-ha. She smiled. C’mon, we can work in my room.
We made our way up the basement stairs and ran into her mom. “Oh, hey! How was school?” she asked.
Fine, we’re going upstairs to work on some homework.
“Okay. Dad’ll be home soon, dinner at six; you know the drill. Ashton, you’re welcome to join us.” Mrs. Clifford turned to me and smiled.
“Thanks, but I told my mom I’d be home for dinner,” I answered.
“Okay, well you’re welcome any time.”
Mom, we got homework to do… Madison signed impatiently.
“Right, keep the door open.”
Madison turned bright red, took my hand, and led the way to her room. Um, you can use my desk if you want. She closed her laptop and placed it on top of her school books, clearing room for me.
“Thanks.” I sat at her desk and unzipped my bag, taking out my notebook and a pen. I drummed the pen against my leg, “What did I do this summer?” I thought aloud before I began writing. I looked over at Madison. She was bent over her notebook, scribbling away. Every now and then, she’d pause, read over her work silently, her lips moving, then frown. “Everything okay?” I asked.
Struggling with the pronunciation. I went deaf before I ever learned French so I don’t know what it’s supposed to sound like.
“So, like what happened? I mean, I know you had tumors but like... If you don’t mind me asking.”
She held up a finger. Then, in her slow, steady voice. “We didn’t know I had them until I was nine. The tumors were slow growing. And non-cancerous, so I have nothing to worry about now. It affected my balance first, but my parents just thought I was extra clumsy. Then I developed a ringing in my ears. It was annoying, but tolerable. Then, my hearing got fuzzy. My teachers told my parents that I was having trouble paying attention in class. They brushed it off, because my grades were still good. Then one day I couldn’t hear at all and that’s when we went to the doctors.”
“Shit…” I breathed.
She nodded. “It sucked. They said I was a rare case because these tumors normally only grew on one side. I had surgery and we tried hearing aids for a bit, but I still struggled. That’s when we all learned sign language, and I started learning to read lips.”
“But, Mike said you could get that implant and that would help.”
She nodded. “Yeah, they suggested that when the hearing aids didn’t work. But, I had just gone through a scary surgery and didn’t want to go through another one. I had gone from being a normal kid, to the girl with tumors, to the deaf girl within six months. I didn’t want to be the girl with implants on top of everything else.” She closed her eyes for a second. “Talking makes me tired, sorry.”
“Who do you want to be then?”
She thought about it. “I want to be Madison Grace Clifford: a 17 year old senior on the fast track to early acceptance at Yale, photographer extraordinaire, and Ashton… um… what’s your middle name?”
I laughed. “Fletcher,” I said. “My middle name is Fletcher.”
She smiled. “And Ashton Fletcher Irwin’s girlfriend.”
I rolled the chair over to her and kissed her, hard. I loved being able to hear her call herself my girlfriend. “Good, because I really like that Madison.”
#according to plan#chapter 8#ashton irwin#same Mads same#i wanna be ashton flecther irwin's gf too#galcal youre married...#your point?#galcal irwin#5sos
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