#there was already the freezer food incident but it also started off with a very severe pain episode thats putting me in constant woe | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

blu-archer · 3 years

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Sharing is Caring?

Just some more AU sickness because why not?

snz based

Sickie: Tae - mild Jimin

Caretaker: Jimin [kind of?]

m/m [squinting at Yoonmin] and mentions of what I’m poorly portraying as ace. I’ve never tried to write about it before so forgive any misrepresentation please..

anyway...

Apart of this little universe; Flower shop and Bakery au

This piece mostly felt like me rambling, but it was kind of fun so I’m posting it.. sorry for any errors

Taehyung sniffled as discretely as possible as he wondered through the isles of the large supermarket, doing his best to avoid people even though he had made sure to grab a face mask before leaving the apartment to avoid spreading his germs. Technically they could be considered Jimin’s germs… but he wasn’t one to blame his platonic soulmate.

After all, they lived together. This outcome was inevitable.

So he hovered awkwardly through the store trying to move as quickly as possible by grabbing immediate necessities rather than the usual browsing of the shelves. And after the desperate sneezes that had surprised him by the canned foods and had kicked his headache into 5th gear, he wanted nothing more than to already be at home and back in bed.

The photographer paused a bit away from the freezer holding the ready-made meals – something that had become a must-have for the pair if they wanted to survive living together – waiting for the few people there to finish before he made his own snatch. He blinked lazily at the rows of boxes that he could just barely make out. He would have to grab a few, they hadn’t done ‘grocery’ shopping for the month and it had come back to bite them. The few supplies he’d gotten days before had dwindled to nothing in a blink of an eye. He’d woken up that morning looking for food so he could take his next dose of medication and had been met with a small portion of days old take out from the noodle place down the street and what was left of the soup Jimin’s boss had dropped off for him after he’d called in sick.

And Tae was getting really tired of soup, despite only being on his second day of feeling like warm death.

So he had taken the courageous, probably mildly stupid, step to go shopping. They needed more tissues anyway, and he didn’t really know anyone in the area that well yet despite having moved a few months ago so it’s not like he could make a plea for help.

Jimin had been thoroughly knocked out in his bed with a mound of extra blankets that hadn’t moved from their place since Yoongi had put them there after bringing the smaller man home from work the day before. So Taehyung had just scribbled a brief note and pinned it onto his door so that Jimin would know where he was if the slim chance of the elder waking up did actually happen.

A gap formed as a couple broke away from the freezer and Tae swiftly slipped in front of it, muffling a cough into his arm before he made a move to slide open the glass top. Taehyung was jolted from his actions as something – a body, definitely a small body – crashed into his legs, immediately reaching out with one hand to steady the child that wobbled upon impact even though his own balance wavered drastically. Thank god for fast reflexes, if he hadn’t dropped his basket and rested his hand on the freezer then he probably would’ve fallen straight on his ass. That would have been almost as embarrassing as the canned food isle incident just minutes before. This day just wasn’t getting better.

He had just barely looked down at the small boy who had almost caused his next disaster when his foggy attention was dragged away to the next rapidly approaching figure.

“Sehjoon!” An exasperated voice snapped before the small boy was pulled from Tae’s weak grasp. “I’m so sorry, he’s wild. Did he-“The man’s eye widened a bit and then he smiled, losing some of the tension in his body. “Its Taehyung, right? Jimin’s new roommate?”

Tae blinked, nodding slowly although he couldn’t really be considered ‘new’ since a few months had already passed, and it wasn’t the first time that he’d shared a space with Jimin. The man looked familiar, and he clearly knew who he was, which meant he was probably one of Jimin’s friends from work. Taehyung tried not to feel too bad about not remembering whose name went with which face, he was often busy with his own work when Jimin would tell him about what happened during his working hours, so he couldn’t be expected to remember too many details. It was a similar situation when he tried to explain to Jimin the different editing terms while trying to perfect whatever photos he had done. He couldn’t count the numbers of times he’d just watched his best friends eyes glaze over with some familiar vague nodding.

“I’m Hoseok, we met a while back when you first moved here.”

The man seemed to ooze happiness as he picked the boy up to rest him on his hip. Taehyung shuffled on his feet. He was a little unsure of what to say next. Usually he didn’t struggle with making conversation, but his head felt like it was filled with cotton, he couldn’t be faulted for this flaw of character right now.

“Sorry,” Hoseok chuckled, rubbing at his neck with his free hand. “Jimin speaks about you all the time and even Jungkook and Jin mention you every once it in a while, it kind of feels like I know you.”

“Uh…oh. Yeah. Jimin speaks about you a lot too.” Tae replied, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. His voice coming out deeper and with the beginnings of the congestion he’d hoped wouldn’t come so soon in the day. He cleared his throat in hopes that it would help. “The florist, right? With Yoongi?”

It clearly didn’t help.

Hoseok’s smile faltered, turning more sympathetic. As if he had quickly pieced the obvious together.

“Yeah, that’s me.” He shifted the boy on his hip when small hands grappled to be let down. Hoseok dropped his smile for a moment to give a stern look of disapproval that seemed to work like a spell over the boy as he went silent and placid in the mans hold. “I’m sorry about Sehjoon here. My sister asked me to look after him for the day and I think she both underestimates my babysitting capabilities and overestimates her sons behaviour. I was actually sent out of work for a bit because Yoongi needed a break from this level of chaos… Hey, he didn’t hurt you or anything right?”

“Oh, no. No.” Tae gave a croaky laugh that irritated his throat. It already felt rough from the amount of coughing he’d done during the night and it appeared that he was nowhere close to being done with that. Turning away, he coughed deeply into his arm, twisting away despite wearing a mask, and winced at the spark of pain that had shot into him. God, he was so over this cold. “Sorry. He barrelled into me, but he would probably be at more risk of hurting himself than me. Has a hard head though. Definitely able to knock some people out with that.”

That brought a bubble of sudden laughter from the other man that left Tae slightly bemused and yet, it was an odd feeling watching Hoseok laugh. A warmth of sorts spread over Taehyung when the man tossed his head back and seemed to glow as his shoulders shook. It was more contagious than Jimin’s illness and Taehyung couldn’t stop himself from smiling at the man as he began to tease his nephew shamelessly about being a new weapon of destruction. The boy simply whined and curled his head into Hoseok’s neck, apparently not seeing the same humour as his uncle.

“I should get him a leash to be honest.” Hoseok joked, but Tae had a feeling the glint in the mans eyes meant he was deeply considering it.

Taehyung didn’t really know how to reply so he just nodded slowly and turned his attention back to the freezer, recollecting his basket before just grabbing a few different meals at random and tossing them in with the juice and tissues he’d already gotten. Whatever it was he and Jimin would eat it whether they liked it or not. He had been out longer than he wanted to be by now and he wasn’t wasting more time on things that they probably wouldn’t taste much of anyway considering how this cold was progressing.

“Not much of a cook?”

Tae glanced to Hoseok who seemed to be shifting his weight as he looked towards the meals casually.

Sniffing lightly, Taehyung tried to suppress the desire to rub at his nose through the mask. He shrugged, his hand moving up to brush some hair from his eyes. “Never really learned. Jimin can’t either, but this is better than living off of take out.”

“I can see Jin rolling in his figurative grave.” Hoseok chuckled. “If you want I can mention to Jungkook how I ran into you, despite you clearly not feeling well. I can guarantee that you and Jimin will get visited by Yoongi and Jin with at least a months-worth of premade meals to be frozen because they heard from Jungkook that you were both malnourished and possibly dying.”

He blushed at the call out on being sick, but to be fair, he hadn’t thought he’d run into anyone that would actually talk to him or that this store would be so busy during work hours. He also didn’t doubt Jungkook’s ability to exaggerate, Jimin had told him about some previous examples that had at the time probably caused Jin a lot of stress. It mostly seemed innocent but very few could look into Jungkook’s eyes and not believe everything he tells them. Tae had only just started speaking to him more and he already knew that.

“Please don’t. I can’t even bear to look at soup after these past few days and I have a feeling that would be a strong contender of what one would give a sick person.” Against his original will, he rubbed a finger to his nose as it twitched with an itchy irritation. “I need to get home actually; we had no food left so I should try to get back before Jimin wakes up. And I am about ready to sleep for the next week.”

“Oh wow. So you really are in need of pre-made meals filled with some love and care.” Hoseok’s voice dipped into one similar to how he had teased his nephew. “Well, I won’t keep you then. You should get home and rest, but if you want to take me up on sending the s.o.s. message for food delivery, Jimin has my number.”

Taehyung thanked the elder man shakily, and even managed to get a small wave bye from the boy, barely having time to hear the small apology for bumping into him before he abruptly turned away and buried his face into his elbow.

H’EESH..hH’HEGXSHhh..

There was a startled ‘oh’ and then deep chuckles. Taehyung winced as he gave a liquid sniff with a low groan, feeling even more congested than before.

“ ‘cuse ‘be.”

“Bless you,” Hoseok laughed with a hand instinctively holding his nephew closer. He dipped his head in a small bow. “Sorry, it’s not funny. That sounded awful, but I got a fright and now I feel dumb for jumping.”

If he had blushed before, then this was him setting himself alight. That had never happened before, he’d never scared someone with his sneeze. Jimin was never going to let him live that down.

“I’ll leave you be now,” the man grinned. “Go home and get some rest. But when you feel better we should hang out some time. Jimin speaks about you all the time and I just think it would be great to see more of you… like with everyone. Welcome you to the city properly.”

“I…yeah. Okay.” Taehyung brushed his hands through his hair and took a starting step back, trying to hold back any more sniffling. “I’ll see you around then.”

“Feel better soon, Taehyung, and get home safely.”

*******************

HEESHHU..H’HIESHH…snfff.. … Heh..h..hhh..HHeGXTCHh…hnnxgGTSCHew!... nghHEHHSHH!!!

Taehyung panted out hot hitchy breaths as the tissue box was set in front of him as an offering. He laid a hand on the box to take it, his other hand hovered desperately over his face as he geared up for the next sneeze. His teary eyes had barely blinked open before they were forced shut once more, his throat and head pulsed with each sneeze that ripped out of him.

“Ble-e’hh-hh-ss yo-uishhhiew.. H’ingxtshh… hih’itishhew!”

Taehyung grabbed a few tissues and let Jimin keep the box as the elder coughed and crumpled into the seat beside him, before following Tae’s example of blowing his nose tiredly.

After shopping, Taehyung had managed a slow drive back to the apartment with multiple stops to tear open one of the tissue boxes he’d bought. It hadn’t helped much, and he had felt progressively worse as the minutes ticked by until he’d made it into the house, where he had promptly collapsed onto the couch with his tissues – only having to get up again to dump the food he’d bought in the fridge and freezer before sluggishly dragging himself to the couch once more..

When he’d been coaxed awake by Jimin gently shaking his shoulder, he had been met with a dim early afternoon sun and a plate a steamy food that had definitely been nuked in the microwave for longer than necessary. And from there they hadn’t really moved much, other than Jimin having forced some medicine into them and making tea before joining Tae on the couch.

There was some drama playing softly on their tv, but neither of them really had the energy to focus on it properly and Tae could barely hear the dialogue anyway once the congestion in his sinuses began to interfere with his ears. Jimin had dragged in a blanket from his room and draped it over both of them as Tae added to the pile of used tissues that had begun to form on the floor in front of them. Nothing seemed to stop the constant tickle that plagued him, nor his noses inability to do what he wanted. Tae was considering just stuffing his nose with tissues at this point. Since the trip to the supermarket his nose had turned into a mess that was seemingly draining the life out of him. Jimin had assured him that despite what he thought, it would get better, but he was sure that his friend was just trying to be his usual hopeful self. Always ready to reassure and look out for him.

At least they were suffering together. That was an upside. Jimin claimed to be feeling a lot better than the day before and it seemed to be mostly true, he was definitely being more active than Tae wanted to be. Although that could also have just a factor of the smaller man sleeping like the dead for almost 20 hours and Taehyung thinking it was wise to leave the apartment earlier. He was just deeply glad that he wasn’t alone again.

Tae hated being alone. Even when he was well, he’d tried living by himself before and it had eaten at him mentally. It’s a big reason why he had convinced Jimin to find a new apartment that they could share when he switched towns, instead of just finding a cheap single flat somewhere. Thankfully his Soulmate had been searching for something already, so he didn’t feel like too much of an inconvenience. Jimin had always teased him relentlessly for needing people but never wanting relationships, always just content with a friend to cuddle up to or hang out with. Yet watching Jimin and others grow into bonds and commitments always made him doubt. Jimin meant well with his chirps and edgy teasing, but it always made Taehyung worry about his future.

What would he do when Jimin finally moved on in life? It’s not like anyone would want to invest in a person that would never give themselves entirely to a partner... He would never fall into the trap of letting someone take what he didn’t want to give again, yet that was all everyone seemed to want from him. … Maybe he’d start up a cuddle site, or a hug program, he’ll think of a way to get the skin ship he needed without being a bother or a hazard to himself.

“You’re thinking too loud again…” Jimin whined hoarsely and sunk into Tae’s side, rubbing his cheek into the other shoulder as he curled into him. “Your brainwaves are hurting mine.”

“You’d need a brain to have brainwaves, you’ll be fine.” Tae mumbled as he ran a tissue under his nose with a sniff and yelped out a weary laugh when Jimin pinched at his ribs.

“Asshole.” The elder snipped, but the smile in his voice was evident.

It took no prompt for Jimin to snuggle even deeper into Taehyung’s embrace, relishing in the warmth despite the dampness that had begun to seep through Tae’s shirt. It would probably be wise for them both to get in the shower – at the very least to rinse off their sweat and germs – but they were far too comfortable to move. Tae felt as if his body had become moulded into the seat and the heat that was created between himself, Jimin and their blanket; paired with the medication he’d taken, only made him dozier. Even as his mind raced through various what-ifs of the future, his eyes gradually drifted shut up before jerking open with any sound or movement. Soft hands brushed soothingly up his side, edging him closer to sleep with low humming, and just as his eyes closed again there was a sharp knock at the door that caused both of them to groan.

“If we ignore it, they might think we’re not here.” Jimin whispered.

Ah…H’ERSHH! ..

“Never-“

HE’ETCHSHH!!

“… Never mind. Thank you Taetae.”

“Sorry..”

Another softer, more hesitant knock sounded through the apartment as Jimin pushed himself to his feet and handed control of the tissue box to Tae solemnly. He accepted it more desperately than he would have liked, but Jimin wasn’t going to judge him considering he’d been in the same situation just the day before.

With a reluctant sigh, Jimin tried not to shiver against the loss of heat. “I’ll go see who it is then.”

The photographer pushed himself up to sit cross legged instead off slouched down in the seat while Jimin left the room, so he could blow his nose as productively as he possible. Although his nose ached after so much blowing and he had immediately tumbled into a bout of coughing that had left him gasping and spitting into a tissue with a grimace, so he couldn’t really call it all that productive when it ultimately made him feel worse. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a yawn before considering just going to sleep anyway. From the front door he could vaguely make out Jimin’s voice – deeper and scratchier than usual – as he spoke with familiarity.

Hopefully it wasn’t their neighbour. She had been hounding them about tidying up their balcony that, quite frankly, wasn’t that bad. Sure, it had way too many dead and dying plants and the chair out there had definitely seen better days, but if she didn’t like seeing it, she didn’t have to go out of her way to look. It wasn’t like they shared it.

He leaned his head back to rest on the back of the couch and shut his eyes once more, trying to force himself to sink into sleep, yet it was now low grumbling and airy giggles kept him from rest. Irritated, he shifted so that he lay curled up on his side, tossing his heavy limbs around until he’d managed to get the soft, fluffy blanket over his body completely and tucked under his chin. Now if Jimin could get back so that he could at least have someone to cling onto, then he’d be ecstatic.

Muffled coughing grew closer until Taehyung heard Jimin call out to him just loud enough to not disturb his penetrating, consistent headache.

“Look,” Jimin practically collapsed on top of the photographer holding a small bouquet. He slid off quickly when the force of the landing set off Taehyung’s own thicker and hoarser coughs. “Sorry but look what Yoongi brought.”

Ah… so there was a definite hold on the ‘cuddle’ part planned in their day. Once he didn’t think his throat was going to rip to pieces, Taehyung blinked heavily at the various bright flowers that had probably been put together with more thought and precision than he could possibly imagine in that moment. Clearly Yoongi had decided to call in a delivery, he wasn’t really surprised. Jimin’s eyes shone as if he truly hadn’t expected the florist to stop by, and Taehyung didn’t think the elder really cared what he thought about it, he had merely fallen into an instinctive habit. Although, Tae would have preferred not to be assaulted with things that would possibly trigger his sinuses.

He scrunched his nose and pushed away the hand that held the glorified weapons. There were quiet steps and a gentle murmur from behind them that he would have brushed off as him hearing things, if only Jimin didn’t glance up with such a warm, wide smile.

“Beau’iful Chim.” Tae sniffed and rolled so that the blankets rolled higher to hide his face.

His cheeks were heated and Jimin turned his smile to him knowingly – albeit apologetic for letting Yoongi inside when Tae clearly just wanted Soulmate time. Jimin pressed a quick kiss to the small visible section of Tae’s damp forehead before getting to his feet with a stifled cough.

“I’ll put these in water... You really didn’t have to come and check on me, you know.” Jimin said softly as he walked towards their kitchen. “Probably safer to just call.”

“I’m not scared of getting sick, Jimin.” A low voice that could only be Yoongi, reassured as he followed the other. – So more than a delivery then.- “I just wanted to make sure you were okay after yesterday. Hobi said he ran into Taehyung earlier… Although from the looks of things he should have probably stayed home, poor guy sounds worse than you did – than you do.”

Jimin hummed, and Taehyung shifted to cover his head entirely beneath the blanket, trying not to listen to the couples conversation. Maybe he should just move somewhere else and let them have some space without having to hide in the kitchen. Of course Yoongi would have to accept the fact that he was entering an area of disease, but he seemed more than willing considering he was already in their home.

Tae gave a sigh and then a deep sniffle. He plucked a fresh tissue to wipe at the tender skin under his nose. It took a moment to work up the energy but eventually he was able to twist so that he practically rolled off of the couch. His knees and hand connecting a lot harder than he’d predicted to the floor, while trying to keep the blanket as steady as possible on his hunched frame. With sluggish motions, he tried to sweep most of the used tissues up with his hands and dumped them into the wastepaper bin kicked under the table, then after achingly persistent hitch started up that had left him feeling frustrated at the lack of relief – he considered the area clean enough before standing unsteadily. Making sure the blanket was wrapped tightly over his shoulders, he grabbed the tissue box to take with him – Jimin could find something else, he felt he needed them more. Then he had almost tripped on the way to his room and had muttered half-hearted curses at the blanket for betraying him and getting caught up in his steps, until finally he was able to collapse onto his bed.

Sure it was cold and probably smelt of sweat but it was at least more comfortable than where he had been lying and it had pillows that he could hug in replacement of Jimin. He buried his face into his arm almost immediately, sneezing harshly twice before he was able to bring a tissue to his nose and smother three more, breaking off into an exhausted, thick cough that left him feeling miserable and wanting nothing more to recollect the bottle of medicine he’d taken earlier and take the rest of it.

God, he really was so over this stupid cold.

#bts sickfic #snzfic #platonic soulmates #established yoonmin #jhope appeared #Tae suffers #im sorry #only a bit tho #alternate universe #photographer taehyung #florist yoongi #florist jhope #friendship?

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jarofrebuke-transcripts · 3 years

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Jar of Rebuke Episode 4 Unofficial Transcript

Season 1 Episode 4: Green Claw

INTRO

The following audio recording is classified documentation for Case [audio distortion] with the Enclosure. Unauthorized access to this information will lead to immediate intervention. Progress further if proper clearance has been given.

JARED

Today sucked. [eating ice cream] It didn't start bad, I mean it actually started pretty good. I have so much ice cream in my freezer, all from the Royal Cow. Anytime I die I eat a whole pint to soothe the stress. This one's butter pecan. I changed into my PJs. I haven't even showered yet. I'm freezing, even with this blanket around me I'm shivering. Ugh, but yeah no, um, it started well, really well. I spent the afternoon with Darius by the river. It's a bit too chilly to go swimming now, but it was nice for a walk and a little picnic. He brought some food that he'd learned to cook in his classes and some apple ale that his dads made, and plenty of water bottles of course. We sat and just talked for a while. He'd picked me up from my place in his truck and drove us out there. He'd seemed a bit nervous for the first portion of the relatively short drive, but he loosened up after we talked a bit more. First about the weather, then about how his folks had been, and then just conversation flowed from one topic to the next. [eats more ice cream] Once by the river we uh, we set up the picnic out on the grass near the water and then we cracked into the food. He made various finger foods for us to eat like pigs in a blanket and fried cheese curds. I have no idea how early he woke up to make all of it but it was all delicious. That and the apple ale was the most soul-pleasing lunch that I could ask for. We sat together and watched the river flow by, shared jokes and stories. It was actually nice to smile that much.

[shivers, eats more ice cream] It was great, you know? Then we packed up the blanket and the food containers and we took it all back to his truck. Then we went for a walk along the river. There's a nice little path through the grass and the trees. Lots of kids bike round there during the warmer months, but we pretty much had it to ourselves the whole walk. The thing about that part of the river though is that there's a creature rumored to lurk in the water that's been known to drag people down into the depths. Usually parents use it as a story to warn, you know, their kids to steer away from the waters and going swimming alone. I've personally never seen anything out there, but I know for a fact that we have files on something living in that water. Darius and I didn't talk about it though. We had a bunch of other things to talk about. [whispered] Oh god. [eats more ice cream] Yeah so we talked about how work’s been for both of us, and also what we've been up to outside of work. Which on my end wasn't exactly much. So he did a good portion of the talking on that front.

We walked pretty close together. He asked a few times if I was chilly and he even offered me his jacket at one point. I had my own jacket on, but it was nice just walking together. I declined his offer but thanked him. But gave him a little playful nudge about how he would also be cold if he gave me his jacket. And I'm so damn cold. But this ice cream is my ritual. So about after an hour of walking he asked if he could ask me something pretty serious. It was a big tone shift in conversation, and I told him sure. Before he could even ask, his phone started ringing in his pocket. It was one of his dads asking him to come home. Some incident on the farm, everything was fine, but they really needed all hands on deck. It sounded pretty urgent. Darius looked a bit annoyed, but I told him that it was okay. He offered to drive me home but his dad had sounded a bit frantic. I told him that I could call someone to come pick me up, I wanted to walk a bit more anyways. We stared at each other for a moment, he even took a step towards me, I wasn't sure what he had planned to do but then he just took off his jacket and wrapped it around me, then jogged back off towards his truck. “Tell to your folks I say hi!” was the last thing I said as I watched him drive off. His jacket smelled really nice.

To be honest I had no idea who I was going to call, but I did want to walk some more so I did. I zipped up his jacket that was a bit too big for me and continued on down the path. He's always worn jackets that are probably about two sizes too big for him. He always seems comfortable but it just made it quite big on me. As I walked along the river, something pulled my attention out over the water. I saw something that looked like hands struggling and some splashing, like someone was trying to get out. Like someone was drowning. So without thinking I ran and threw myself into the water. Like an idiot. I lost another pair of glasses. No one would be swimming this time of year and I knew that there's something out in that river that's inhuman, but I still dove in to save whoever was struggling! Ugh, I literally knew better! But no…

The water was pretty calm, but cold as hell already. It actually stung when I jumped in. It wasn't a hard swim to get out there, to where I'd seen the struggling happening, besides all the layers that I was wearing anyways. But when I got out there I didn't feel anything. I went above the water and looked around and there was nothing to see. I went underwater and felt around again, and nothing. At least for a few moments anyway. I went up above water to take in a breath and enough time had passed for me to realize that again, I'd been duped. Before I could even turn back towards land, I felt something grab my ankle and pull me under. Literally all I could say was “damn it!” before that thing snagged me. Not my first time being yanked into a lake or a river or whatever, but it's still hard to resist breathing in a bunch of water on my way down. The grip of my ankle was tight, like three strong fingers. It felt like it had plush, something almost furry, but definitely a clawed hand. Once fully under the really cold water, I tried to take in what was around me as I struggled, but all I could see in front of me was some green blur with a line of what I assume were sharp teeth smiling at me. That was when I heard a voice come out in a bubbly haze, but in my head I could understand every word that was said to me.

RIVER MONSTER

It's been a while since I've caught anything.

JARED

I.. I don't know how I knew that that's what it said, but I just wanted to get away. I always feel off for days if my body has to reform anything, so being eaten especially sucks. I tried kicking at the grip, but then the hands moved from my ankle to actually hold my arms so that they could... I don't know, so that the creature could look at my face? And then they asked-

RIVER MONSTER

You're not afraid? You don't fight the same way most do. No screams, not even trying to breathe anymore. [evil laugh]

JARED

And then they laughed at me. It was almost worse being laughed at than held under the water, though my lungs did start to hurt from not being able to breathe. I must have sneered or something, I don't know, but I just heard another laugh.

RIVER MONSTER

Do you even know fear?

JARED

That struck me as weird, but uh... it made me think. Like I'm not afraid of death. I'm more afraid of surprise parties and saying the wrong thing in conversation than I am of death. Death sucks, but I've gotten used to it. I struggled more. I got a few good kicks in. I reached up towards the surface, anything that I could do to get free. After my last run-in with the mud mermaids I didn't feel like drowning again. But no matter how much I struggled, I wasn't strong enough. My heart was pounding as I tried to fight the urge to breathe in water. The mocking became less in my focus but it was still there. I still remember how the voice sounded so clear!

RIVER MONSTER

So curious... such determination. Such desperation. Yet no attempted screaming. This isn't your first time, huh? But I've never seen you before.

JARED

I got pulled back down a bit further, as if the creature was trying to take a closer look at me. The closer I got, the blurrier the creature got, which wasn't hard considering you can't see very clearly underwater. At that point, everything was sore and I was feeling lightheaded. I let out the air that I had been holding in since it felt like that my head was gonna burst, and on reflex I almost inhaled a huge gulp of water. But I clamped my mouth shut just in time. But it got really difficult towards the end there. It was so cold, yet so much of me burned because I just wanted to breathe.

RIVER MONSTER

What if I just let go? Would you make it to the surface in time?

JARED

A different kind of teasing, and it sucked nonetheless. Like a cat toying with its prey, and just like a cat that's just how some of these creatures are. Humans have a propensity to know better, but for some of these creatures it's just in their nature. I can't really fault them for that. Besides I was food. I had just hoped that if I was gonna die, at least I'd go unconscious before I became supper. That was about the breaking point, though. My mouth involuntarily opened and my body tried gasping for air. But there was no air. If I thought my lungs had burned before, no. That water made them burn far, far worse. All I remember after that was thrashing and burning and it became impossible to fight anymore and then... nothing.

[eats more ice cream] I don't know if the creature ate anything, but my clothes were pretty much still intact. When I woke up and I didn't see any new scars, so I guess not. I have no idea why the creature didn't just commit. Asshole. I woke up on the riverbank, coughed up a bunch of water when I woke up, and gods! Everything still ached for a bit. It didn't last long, once I got the water out of my system, but it was still very unpleasant. I was freezing because my clothes were still soaking wet, but the most frustrating thing was that since I went downstream, I was even further from home. I must have only been out of commission for an hour or so, considering that no one had found my body and since it was well lit, I assumed that not much time had passed. I’m always scared that someone's gonna find my body before I wake up. Now that would be awkward for me and traumatizing for them. Anyways I got up and started walking along the river. Really just trying to find my phone. After a little while I did eventually find it, still on the edge of the path from where I jumped in. My fingers were so pruney from all that time in the water and I was shivering with all the soaked layers, but I picked up my phone and checked the time. No new messages, no missed calls, nothing besides a very low battery. It's kind of sad. What if I had died, died. When would people even notice? But it was like the universe wanted to give me something. Because then and there I got a text from Darius apologizing for having to leave so quickly. He asked if I'd gotten home but I told him half the truth. Still walking, heading home soon. And before I could call anyone, my phone died. I was trying to figure out who I could come to get me, I went to call Amir, and just then my phone shut off. I felt mocked.

So then I walked all the way home in soaked clothes, and the fall air did not help. I didn't want to be out after dark so I made sure to keep a good pace, shivering and swearing under my breath most of the way home. It may not have been a long drive, but it took me hours to walk home. And now here I am. I still smell the river water, I still have some weird green handprints on my ankle from where the creature first grabbed me, but no new scars. At least none that I've noticed. I tossed the wet clothes into my washing machine and just started my post-death ritual before recording. Getting at the ice cream and wrapping myself in blankets. I don't care if I'm freezing. Ice cream is my ritual, I am sticking to it. My phone is finally charged enough to turn it back on, and um, oh shoot. A few missed messages, all from Darius. He'd asked if I'd found someone to come get me, and then another message of him offering to come get me if I couldn't find anyone, and then another message asking if I'd gotten home, each like an hour apart. Oh man, I worried him. I gotta text him back hold on. “I'm so sorry I'm home. Phone died. Had an amazing time with you today. Hope everything's settled down on your end.”

It would be so nice to be honest, but what would I say? “Hey sorry, I drowned and died and then had to walk home and soaking wet clothes in the cold after my phone also died!” Best case scenario, if he believed me, he'd probably feel so guilty. But more likely than not, he wouldn't believe me. I mean most people just don't, they... they don't just walk off death. It's starting to rain again, so at least I beat that home, I guess. Just a light drizzle but I'm already cold enough as it is. And I know that I should report this incident to the Enclosure. but honestly? I don't really feel like meddling further. That creature was minding their own business anyways, why should I just drive other scientists to the river? I mean if it was so obviously deadly, then Todd would just send me again. I'm not looking forward to a round two. Because of my abilities I actually get most of the orders directly from Todd himself instead of from the higher ups in the lab that I work in, like most of the other scientists do. A bit of a special case, I guess, one that I'm not particularly thrilled about, honestly. But, whatever. It's a stable job, and it's good money, so I don't complain all that much. I might not tell anyone about this. I don't want to deal with all the trouble that I'm gonna have to deal with if I do. Not like Todd would be the most empathetic about the matter, and Dr. Rahal would probably worry more than necessary. I don't think that he really emotionally processes that I come back when I die. Then, of course, I can't really talk to anyone outside of the Enclosure, I guess. I could reach out to Dr. Lomax? They were always a great listener and I don't really see them much anymore. I've been thinking about seeing if they want to meet up and, I don't know, grab a bite to eat, catch up? And I have no clue what their schedule is like anymore. I don't really have friends to spend time with, so maybe I should change that. I'm gonna go finish this ice cream before it melts and then I'm gonna go take a hot shower and get into some warmer clothes. I might call Darius later and see how he's doing, make sure that everything's all right on his end. Also I'm definitely requesting some time off, even a weekend would be nice. I know I've got some paid time off built up, so i'll look into using some of that here soon just to recoup. Not like I've ever really taken a vacation before or anything. I mean all I could really do is just lounge around my house but right now that doesn't sound all that bad. But first, ice cream, then shower. This has been Dr. Jared Hel, signing off.

OUTRO

Jar of Rebuke is written and produced by Casper Oliver, who is also the voice of Dr. Jared Hel. The River Monster was played by Jason Larock. The intro is read by Vanessa Rosengrant, and credits are read by Ashley Craft, who has created the podcast official graphics. Music was created by Luke Menniss, spelled m-e-n-n-i-s-s, who you can find and support on Bandcamp, Spotify and Twitch. Find us on Twitter, Instagram and anywhere else you get your podcast fix for more Jar of Rebuke and also to get updates on upcoming official merch for our show. Support projects by this crew on Patreon to further other queer-lead projects and get neat perks. All donations are appreciated and will grant further clearance to special Jar of Rebuke content. You can also make one-time donations on Ko-fi. And special thanks to our patreon supporters Becky Thompson, Perry Bruns, and Tristan Fraud.

#jar of rebuke #jar of rebuke podcast #jor podcast #jar of rebuke transcripts

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mamaskillerqueen · 5 years

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Don’t Go Away... Please || Ben Hardy x Fem!Reader

A/N: I don’t know, y’all. I don’t know. This is from a prompt that I just felt like writing about and I kind of hate it but I don’t. Like I said, I don’t know. Warnings: Cursing, mentions of a creepy ex/stalker/fuck buddy. And, as always, shitty writing... weeeooo! Word Count: 2,440 Prompt: “You guys go on without me.”

Why had you decided to come?

This was such a stupid idea.

You watched as Joe did his best “Have ya met Ben?” for the ten thousandth time in the last hour.

Okay, maybe you were exaggerating.

It felt like ten thousand times though, as you sat idly at the bar, nursing the same drink you’ve had since you first arrived. Almost the minute you got to the club, you were left alone. Joe had latched onto Ben’s arm and began pulling him into the crowd, Lucy had dragged Rami out to dance, and Gwil had given your shoulder a squeeze as he and his fiancé said their goodbyes for the evening.

What you should have done, was follow them out of the club and gone home. You weren’t the sharpest crayon in the box though. Or maybe you enjoyed torturing yourself by watching the scene unfold before you as girls flung themselves at Ben’s feet.

You would never admit it... at least out loud, but you were stupidly in love. It wasn’t a “love at first sight” kind of deal. In fact, when you first met him, you were determined to not feel a thing. Of course he was attractive, any one with eyes could see that. That was precisely the reason you had been so determined. He was just another guy, one who had openly admitted to hating how people saw him for only his looks. As Joe’s best friend, you felt it necessary to not drool all over his other best friend.

You had done so well. Everything was going great, you had been successful in just treating Ben like he was any other person. A great friendship blossomed out of that. Even when he was in England there was hardly ever a lapse in your conversations. Phone calls were frequent, often finding yourself in the grocery store with the phone pressed to your ear. Texting was even more so, mostly stupid gifs you both found funny. It was when you found yourself going through a messy breakup - of sorts, for lack of a better term - that you found yourself thinking of Ben as more.

You definitely wouldn’t say your heart was shattered, far from it. This had been exactly what you wanted, it was why you ended it. Or tried, at least.

What had started out as a casual sex fling turned into an obsession. You had come home from work, shoving your heavy apartment door open with your shoulder while carrying bags of groceries and your phone pressed to your ear. Ben was blabbering on about his latest audition that was somewhere exciting in the world when you spotted all of the boxes stacked in your living room.

“Ben... I think, uhm, I’m gonna need to call you back.”

He hadn’t gotten a word in before you were hanging up and dropping the things onto your table. You looked down at the keys in your hand, remembering having to slide the key into the lock to open it. You also remembered locking up before you left. And, you most definitely didn’t remember boxes being stacked in your living room this morning. The door to your bedroom swung open to reveal your fuck-buddy in all of his naked glory. He was very clearly ready to welcome you home with a quick dance between the sheets but you were far from interested at the moment.

“How the fuck did you get in here?”

After quite a bit of yelling - on your part, you finally got him to admit to stealing your key one night and having a copy made. The boxes were most of his belongings. He was moving in. When you insisted that wasn’t what was happening things got a bit... hairy. You found yourself sleeping on Joe’s couch that night, more than grateful he was your neighbour. The cops had to come physically remove the man from your apartment the next morning, along with his things. The super changed your locks the following day. Disaster avoided.

Or so you thought.

Apparently breaking and entering isn’t a huge deal. Neither is stalking. Because almost two weeks later, you came home to the exact same situation. Only this time, as you pounded on Joe’s door, screaming for him to let you in dammit, Ben was the one to pull the door open. You had no idea he was in town and for a moment you forgot about the disaster that awaited you in your apartment. A squeal of excitement left your lips in the form of “Benny!” before you jumped into his arms for a bear hug. You could feel the rumble of laughter in his chest before he put you down and raised a brow. He asked you what you were doing here and as you relayed the long story to him in the door way, his face set into stone.

What surprised you the most was when his arm slung around your neck, pulling you tightly into his side as he strutted you both back across the hall to your apartment. Ben’s a big buy, a bit intimidating too. It wasn’t long before he had the crazy guy locking himself into your bedroom. As instructed, you’d call the police again (a second time that day about the same incident). When they finally arrived and dragged him out, Ben insisted on staying with you. Joe was working on a photoshoot all evening and wouldn’t be back until late, anyways. There wasn’t much room for the both of you to crash on his couch, so Ben insisted on staying on yours.

It was nice, getting to sleep in your own bed without fear of someone busting in. Even if they did, Ben was on your couch to make sure you were safe. It had been a long evening of cooking and watching movies. As you got comfy in your bed you realised that you had never had someone be as caring and kind in the way Ben had been that night. You also realised that he had done a wonderful job in making you laugh, and forget about the crazy guy who insisted he was going to live with you. He’d always been great at making a shit show of a day better. Even when he was an ocean away.

That was when it clicked. Ever since you came to the understanding that you were in love with Ben, you couldn’t unsee it. The small little gestures he did that no guy in your past ever had, like when you’d go out for food and he always picked your favourite spot because he knew you wanted to go without you even having to say so. Or how he’d call and ask about your day, even though his was far more exciting. They were small things but a lot of the time it made it hard to not think that maybe he felt the same way.

And then you come out with them tonight just to watch Joe drag him through the club trying to pick up girls.

The beginning of the evening had been great. Dinner with the cast as they finally got to be in the same place at the same time. Joe had introduced you to his little family on multiple occasions and so you were always excited to see any of them. When they asked you to join them, you’d been more than happy to accept. If you had known tonight would end like this, you wouldn’t have bothered.

You noticed your two best friends making their way towards you, probably for more beer. With a huffed sigh you downed the last of your Guinness and placed the glass back on the bar.

“Y/N!”

They yelled in unison and immediately burst into laughter, claiming they owed each other a coke. Despite yourself, you grinned with a shake of your head. They were such idiots but you loved them both. Maybe differently but still...

“I think I’m gonna head out.”

You were tired of watching their weird episode remake of How I Met Your Mother and just wanted to go home. There were a million new horrible romcoms on Netflix that were calling your name. Not to mention the pint of mint chip buried at the bottoms of your freezer. Tonight you would wallow, and tomorrow you’d be fine again. Tomorrow there would be no feelings for Ben, and you could go back to being best friends. It would be great...

“Nooo, come dance with us! We’re gonna find Lucy and Rami,” Joe declared, clearly feeling the alcohol already.

“You guys go on without me.”

Sliding off your bar stool, you leaned in and kissed Joe’s cheek before patting Ben’s chest as you walked by both of them. You had called a goodbye over your shoulder but with how loud the music was, you were sure that neither of them heard you.

Once the door opened and you were thrust into the bitter chill of the New York evening you sighed. Fresh air, if you could call it that - this was New York City - had been needed. You pulled your jacket a little tighter around yourself and then started down the sidewalk. It was cold but for some reason you felt a walk home was better than climbing into a taxi. Not to mention, it was so much faster to walk... even in heels.

The sound of rushed foot steps started your way and so you shimmied closer to the buildings, getting out of the way of the person in a hurry. It wasn’t until the foot steps slowed and fell in line with your own that you looked up. Your brow furrowed when your eyes came in contact with familiar emerald ones.

“Did you really think I was going to let you walk home alone?”

Ben the over-protector. You only offered him a small smile, amusement clear in your eyes. It was almost a knee jerk reaction, one you regretted as soon as the words left your lips.

“Don’t you have a million girls back there to choose from that you can take home? I’m sure that will end far more exciting for you than this will.”

Was that... bitterness and jealousy? You’re damn right. Did you hate it? Absolutely. Luckily for you, Ben didn’t seem to notice. And if he did, he didn’t care to say so.

“Maybe but the only girl I actually care about getting home safely is you.”

That sounded terrible, as if he didn’t care if those other women made it home safely but, you knew him. You knew that wasn’t what he meant at all. He was just… reassuring you. Which was weird, right?

Trying your best to keep up the appearance of being fine, you bumped your shoulder into his with a faint smirk on your lips.

“How sweet? Mister Ben Jones, an actual knight in shining armour not caring about other women’s safety since 2019.”

He laughed and you wished you could have a full album to listen to that laugh forever.

“You know that’s not how I meant it.”

He was right, you did know that. It wouldn’t have been like you to not make a joke of it though. The amusement dissipated rather quickly though and your somber mood was back. Instead of his laughing playing back in your head, you just kept hearing Joe’s wingman attempts. They would have been hilarious if you weren’t stupidly in love the man he was trying to fling at other women. Ben was the first to notice your mood, if you were honest he probably picked up on it in the club. That was why he was out here. He knew you were upset about something. The revelation only made you feel crappy for pulling him away from his friends and fun. What kind of friend does that? You really were horrible. “I can practically hear you thinking from over here,” Ben announced after who knows how long of walking. His deep voice nearly startled you, but when you looked up at him and saw clear concern in his eyes you forgot about your internal spiral. “I do that sometimes, you should try it.” You were greeted with another laugh and a shake of his head, making his carefully slicked back hair fall forward on his forehead. When his hand came up to push the unruly blonde locks back into place, you had to look away. Thankfully the rest of the walk back to your apartment building was quiet. He spoke again when you finally reach the front door of your place. “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Goodnight, Ben. Thanks for walking me home. You really didn’t have to.”

He waved you off, shrugging his shoulders as if ditching the partying and his friends was nothing. Could your heart stop falling for him? Or... could he just stop being so... Ben? You turned the key in the lock and pushed the door open, stepping inside. Just as you were about to shut the door, assuming that would be the end of your night, Ben placed his hand on the door to keep it open. With a furrowed brow you looked up at him, silently asking him what he was doing. He didn’t say a word though, just stared at you for what felt like forever before he finally took a step forward. He wasn’t even passed the threshold of your apartment but he was close enough to place both of his hands on either side of your face, and then he was leaning down. Your brain could barely process what was happening before his lips were on yours. You were frozen. Completely frozen. This wasn’t happening. You were dreaming. Clearly you had come home from the club, passed out watching horrible movies and eating ice cream. This was your brains way of coping with the disaster that was your love life. But then he was pulling away and you could see the almost mortified look on his face. He was sputtering something, apologies probably if his bright red face was any indication. Your heart was pounding so loudly in your ears, you couldn’t actually hear him. When he turned to start walking away, you came back to reality. You caught his wrist just before he reached Joe’s apartment door. He turned, apologies once again poised on his lips but you didn’t give him the chance. You surged up onto your toes and pressed your lips to his. Luckily for you, he was much quicker on the uptake than you. Maybe tonight wasn’t your worst idea.

#ben hardy imagine #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy blurbs #ben hardy #i wrote a thing #enjoy #idk how to tag this

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birdkatherine89 · 4 years

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Bacterial Vaginosis And Post Coital Bleeding Astounding Ideas

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Bacterial Vaginosis Genital Herpes

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#Bacterial Vaginosis And Post Coital Bleeding Astounding Ideas #Bacterial Vaginosis During Pregnancy I

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insideoutstory · 4 years

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Inside Out → Chapter Twenty-Four

summary: Two unexpected visitors, one with an apology, one decidedly not. word count: 6k warnings: Men being held accountable for their actions, can I get a hell ya a/n: Hey guys! This is the second to last chapter! Next week will be the Christmas epilogue, so prepare yourselves! This one is actually one of my favorite chapters, so I hope you enjoy.

[ masterlist ] [ FF.net ]

Christine’s sling came off two weeks after the incident. She would have partied, or cried, or done something to celebrate. Something more interesting than going to work. But after what had happened with the spray paint and the missing candy, she was already on thin ice. If she wanted to keep her job at the Hawk, she needed to show up to work.

Still, Anthony had been kind enough to switch up her duties. The sling was gone, but she was still on crutches, which meant it was still hard for her to get around. Joey was taking over the concession stand and cleaning duties, while she sold tickets and ran the projector. She knew Joey wasn’t exactly happy with the arrangement, but complaining made him look like a dick. You couldn’t be mean to a cripple.

So that’s where Saturday morning found her—in the front booth at the Hawk, selling tickets to the new comedy they’d just gotten in. Hawkins was already getting colder, and Anthony had grudgingly allowed her to wear a plain black sweatshirt while she was upfront. It was the best she could do while she waited for her new uniform to come in. Her shirt and bowtie had never been collected from the school.

Christine tapped her pencil against her head, trying to decipher the physics notes in front of her. Steve had been attempting to take notes while she was out, and had kept it up for the last two weeks. She could tell he really was trying, but his handwriting was crap. He also kept misspelling words like “electromagnetic,” “gravitation,” and “field,” which added a whole layer of mystery to the subject. So she was going back over the papers to amend and copy them. This way they could study off something that actually made sense.

She was just erasing one of the bullet points when a familiar, gruff voice spoke through the glass.

“Uh, hi. Can I get one ticket to…uh…whatever the hell you’re playing this week?”

Christine did not look up. She jabbed her pencil to her right, gesturing to the giant movie poster on the wall.

“Oh. Right. A Christmas Story. Sounds great.”

She rang up the ticket and passed it through the window. She still did not look up.

“How much?”

She tapped on the top of the cash register at the numbers that had popped up. There was a grumble from the other side of the window. The money came through the slot, and she counted it out to make the change. It was company policy to end transactions with, “Enjoy your movie!” Christine decided not to follow company policy.

“Just curious,” the voice started again, determined. “When are you guys gonna get something new?”

Christine held up two fingers.

“Two…? Two what? Two days? Two weeks?”

She shook the two fingers again.

“Fine. And what’s that gonna be?”

She pointed her pencil at the opposite poster.

“Huh. Christine. How about that? Not about an annoying babysitter is it?”

Christine finally lifted her head, glaring at Chief Hopper through the glass.

“It’s a horror movie about a haunted car. Will that be all?”

“Horror movie,” Hopper said, with the minimum amount of interest. “That the kind of stuff you’re into?”

“Why?”

“Just trying to have a conver…”

“Why are you here?”

Hopper stopped, narrowing his eyes at her. “Just came to check in. See your arm’s out of the sling. How’s the leg?”

“Still broken.”

“And uh…any…any unexpected visitors?”

“Who wants to know? You or the Department of Energy?”

Hopper frowned. But he didn’t deny it. That was good. If he had, Christine might have landed her arm back in the sling trying to punch him through the glass.

“Forget it,” he grumbled. “I’m just here to watch the movie.”

He tapped his ticket on the counter and started to walk away.

“You know the worst part?” Christine blurted before he’d gotten too far. “I actually thought it was gonna be Mrs. Byers. I figured, desperate mom looking to find her kid. What if she decides to make a trade for Will? But Joyce doesn’t have it in her. She never would have done that to Eleven.”

“Hey!” Hopper stormed back to the glass, looking frantically up and down the street. “Keep your damn voice down, kid. Do you want to end up in a lab cell, too?”

Christine’s heart nearly snapped in half.

“Is that where she is? At the lab?”

The chief’s face furrowed in frustration, and he leaned heavily against the counter.

“No. No, she’s not at the lab. I’ve been keeping an ear out, but it doesn’t look like she’s anywhere.”

“Good. Wherever she is, I hope it’s far away from you.”

“I did what I had to to save Will Byers.”

“Yeah, and El paid the price. You just gave her up as collateral, after everything you said. All that bullshit about not letting a kid go back to a prison like that. And I was actually stupid enough to believe it.”

“I tried, okay?” he said impatiently. “How do you think the cops got there so fast, huh? I sent in the tip to cut the agents off.”

“And look how great that worked out,” she spat. “The kids had no one to help them, and Eleven had to go up against the Demogorgon alone. Whatever happened to her after that, that’s your fault. If she’s…If she’s dead? That’s on you.”

Christine abruptly cut herself off, staring blankly down at her physics notes. She had no idea what she expected to get out of this conversation. It wasn’t going to bring Eleven back. It wasn’t going to change anything. She couldn’t have been the only one who put the pieces together. But for some reason, none of them were talking about it. Like they were so grateful to have Will back that they wouldn’t look the gift horse in the mouth. Well, if no one else was going to put up a fight, she would. She would punish Hopper in every way she could. Even if that was only with extra sass and overpriced movie tickets.

He was still hovering on the other side of the glass, his massive form casting a shadow on her notes. It was very annoying.

“You tell the kids any of this?” he asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because they’ll probably do something stupid, and I’m hoping Dustin can make it through middle school without jail time.”

“Right. So if someone eggs my house, I should assume it’s you?”

The sound of his chuckle filled her with fury. This was Eleven they were talking about. A real girl, who was really lost, all because of his really stupid decision. And he was laughing at her.

It made her reconsider breaking through the glass.

But Chief Hopper seemed to sense the storm he’d stirred. He held up his hands before Christine could open her mouth.

“I deserve worse, I know. But try and keep it hypothetical, huh? Sure your folks want you to make it through high school without jail time, too.”

Christine clenched her newly freed fists. “Enjoy your movie, Chief.”

He nodded and backed away from the counter. She turned back to her notes, which seemed even more incomprehensible now than they had before, but he wasn’t done annoying her just yet.

“What’d you feed her? When she was living with you?”

It was so out of left field, it took her a second to respond. “…Why?”

“Just curious.”

Christine frowned down at her homework. Her pencil hovered over one of Steve’s doodles, where it looked like he’d been playing tic tac toe against himself. She traced a circle around the grid, unable to restrain a smile.

“Eggos, mostly. She really liked waffles with whipped cream.”

Hopper didn’t respond. She heard the door open, and when she looked up, he was already gone.

Whatever the chief had wanted out of their conversation, Christine hoped he’d gotten it. All she’d gotten was the uneasy sense of being watched, of being in the dark. She’d been confused a lot over the last month, but somehow it still felt like she didn’t know everything. She was still reeling when Claudia came to pick her up at the end of her shift. Thankfully, her spaciness was easily disregarded. If there was one thing her cast was good for, it was excuses.

Claudia drove her to Big Buy, and together they did their grocery shopping. Even then it was hard to put Eleven out of her mind. The automatic doors at the front of the store had only just been replaced, and there were still fragments of glass that refused to be swept off the sidewalk. The manager, Robert, had spent the first week telling anyone who would listen that a little girl had broken it with her mind. After business had taken a hit, he changed his tune. It had just been a malfunction with the door wiring, and everything was all fixed now.

Christine smiled wryly at the thought. She grabbed her own box of Eggos and dropped it into the shopping cart.

It was a pretty light trip to the store. Christine had to limit herself to three bags if she wanted to be able to walk. Claudia was more than happy to help, but Christine always waved off her offers. There were only two people in the Walcott house, and neither of them ate as much as they should. She could manage the groceries on her own.

“Hey, Dad! I’m home!” She smacked the front door closed behind her, and limped her way into the kitchen to start putting away the food. “I just got the basics. Mostly cereal, bagels, more Pop Tarts. There’s some chicken in the freezer if you wanted to do that for dinner. Otherwise it’s Chinese or pizza. Or burgers, I guess, if you wanna make the drive. What’re you feeling?”

Not for the first time that day, Christine didn’t get a response.

“Dad…?”

She put the essentials in the fridge, then poked her head into the living room. Her father was, in fact, home. He was sitting in an armchair, newspaper held up in front of him.

“Dad, did you hear me? I asked what you were feeling for…”

“There is a boy in your bedroom.”

Christine stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“There is a boy in your bedroom,” he repeated. He folded the corner of the newspaper, briefly checking his watch. “He’s been in there for about…oh, thirty minutes.”

“…okay…who is it…?”

“I don’t know. He didn’t care to introduce himself.”

“Right.” Christine nodded, still not following. “And you just…let him into my room?”

“Oh, I didn’t let him anywhere. He climbed through your window.”

Christine choked on air. Her father, on the other hand, just continued to stare at his newspaper.

“I’m sorry, he—he what?”

“Climbed through your window. I watched him try and sneak around the house, trip in front of the living room window, and stop outside yours. Took him a good five minutes to get it open.”

“Uh huh.” Somehow, Christine was still waiting for a punchline. “And you just decided to…to not do anything about it, huh?”

“I wanted to ask you about it first. See if you were expecting any visitors.”

“Uh, no. Definitely not.”

“I see.” Her father casually turned the page in his paper. “Gotta say. That answer does not feel as reassuring as I hoped it would.”

Christine rolled her eyes, and was halfway to another quip when a thought occurred to her. Unexpected visitors…

“I’ll handle it, Dad,” she said quickly. “I’m sure it’s just one of the kids playing a pranks, so uh, don’t go for the shotgun yet. I’ll let you know.”

“Okay. And be careful! It sounded like he knocked over a stack of your cassettes.”

“What? Oh. Yes. Yeah, uh, will do.”

She hurried down the hallway, fast as her crutches would carry her. Could it really be her? It wouldn’t be the first time she was mistaken for a boy. And if she was sneaking around—she should be more careful. Coming here, especially when Hopper was looking for her, it was entirely too dangerous.

Christine nearly tumbled into her own room. She looked around, out of breath. But she did not find what she was expecting.

“Steve?”

“Sh, sh, sh!” Steve sprang up from where he’d been sitting at her desk, and hurried to close her bedroom door. “Keep it down, alright? I had to sneak in through the window. Your dad doesn’t know I’m here.”

“What the hell are you doing here?”

“Uh, nothing. I just…you know. I…wanted to check up on you.”

“You just…?” Christine gaped at him. “And this required breaking into my house when I wasn’t home?”

“Well, now—hey,” he said defensively, holding up his hands. “I didn’t know you weren’t home. I know you usually get off work around now, so I was just guessing, and—and I didn’t break in, okay? Nothing is broken.”

Her eyes strayed over to her dresser, where several of her cassettes had been scattered across the top. Steve grimaced.

“Technically, those are not broken. I just…knocked them over when I tripped. Sorry. I uh…I hope you didn’t have them in any specific order.”

“I did.”

“Ah, okay, well uh…if—if you want help putting them back or something, I could…help?”

She stared at him, still trying to wrap her head around the image. Steve Harrington was standing in her bedroom. His face still horrendously bruised, and wearing a green T-shirt that matched her carpet. He was just standing there. There was her poster of Indiana Jones. There was her poster of Han Solo. And there was Steve Harrington. There was her closet, still open from her morning’s search for a black sweatshirt. There was the towel on the floor from her shower. And there was Steve Harrington.

Christine gulped. He’d been waiting in her room for thirty minutes. Alone. The thought filled her with panic, though she had no idea what she might be hiding.

“Did you touch anything else?” she demanded.

“What? No! No, I didn’t—I barely even looked. I didn’t look. At anything. Sorry.”

His nervousness had the curious effect of calming her down almost immediately. If nothing else, Steve looked just as uncomfortable in her room as she felt to have him there. Which only begged the question further.

“Seriously, Steve. What are you doing here?”

“Right, yeah.” He nodded and, right on cue, ran a hand through his hair. “Can…Can we talk?”

She nodded without really processing the question. She let Steve help her over to the bed. He grabbed the desk chair he’d been sitting in and dragged it over. Steve did not sit down. He paced back and forth behind it a few times, drumming his fingers on the back. Christine had only seen him this nervous one other delightful time.

“Look, Steve,” she said flatly, “if you’re here to talk about Nancy, I can’t help you. She’s dealing with a lot right now, and I don’t know what…”

“Nancy?” he asked absently. “No, this isn’t about Nancy. Nancy doesn’t even know I’m here.”

“She doesn’t?”

“No. Well, she doesn’t know I’m here right now, but she knew I was coming.”

“She did?” Somehow, this was even more baffling than the first statement. “You told Nancy you were coming?”

Steve stopped pacing abruptly, and plopped down into the desk chair. “How’s your leg?”

“Oh it’s…fine…” She stared down at the cast, almost surprised to see it. “I mean, it’s still broken.”

“Right,” he said with a small grin. “So your leg is about as fine as my face.”

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s that bad.”

“No, I know it is. You can be honest.”

“Oh, I meant my leg,” she said cheekily. “Your face still looks like shit.”

Steve gawked at her for a moment, then choked out a laugh. “You—jeez. Alright. Pulling no punches, today.”

“Hey, you wanted honestly.” Christine smiled, looking at him expectantly. “So…?”

“Your leg, right.” Steve leaned forward in the chair, his elbows propped on his knees. “Well, seeing as you still can’t ride your bike, I was thinking I could give you a lift to school if you wanted.”

“…Seriously?”

“Yeah, sure. You’re only a couple blocks away from me anyway. And then I was thinking, you know, since you still need someone to carry your shit, Nancy and I could take turns walking you to class. This way she can stop freaking out about missing so much school.”

A heavy, knowing feeling settled in the pit of Christine’s stomach.

“Steve, you don’t have to do this.”

“Hey, don’t worry about me,” he said jovially. “I don’t care about missing class.”

“No, I mean any of it. In fact, I’d prefer if you didn’t.”

“Oh.” He paused, looking crestfallen. “Why not?”

Christine wet her lips. It made it slightly less painful when they split into an incredulous, wounded grin.

“Because I don’t love being used, Steve. If you wanna patch things up with Nancy, that’s great. Good luck. But don’t use me to get your redemption. I don’t need your pity. Either of you. I honestly thought we were past all this.”

“What—We are!” He nearly jumped forward out of his chair, waving his hands in front of him. “Chris, I’m not here because Nancy asked me. And—And I’m not here to make it up to her.”

“Oh, right. You just had some completely unrelated conversation with her before you came to my place. Honestly, Steve, I know I’ve been dumb, but I’m not that dumb.”

She tried to slide off of the bed, but Steve forcibly pushed her back into her seat.

“No, no, no. Look, Nancy doesn’t even know about the carpool thing, okay? That’s all on me. I went to her to ask for permission to talk to you about some other stuff.”

“Permission?” Christine echoed. She wasn’t sure if she should feel relieved or outraged. “Why the hell would you need permission?”

“Because…Because Jonathan was right. I know you and Nancy were fighting, and yeah, a lot of it was because of Barb or the Upside Down or Jonathan or whatever. But it was also because of me. Because I was being a colossal shithead, to both of you. And I wanted to talk to you, but…I didn’t want to start anything on accident.”

Steve sat back down in his seat, his hands folded in front of him. He was watching her anxiously. It looked like he was waiting for her response before he went any further.

“Oh,” was all she could muster. “That’s…thoughtful, I guess.”

“I’m trying,” he said earnestly. “Also, I didn’t want one of you badasses to beat my face in any more than it already is.”

Christine bobbed her head slowly. “So, what was the other stuff you wanted to talk about?”

The question made him look almost as nervous as the Demogorgon had. But Steve swallowed thickly and nodded.

“I meant what I said that night. About wanting to make things right. I’ve done…a lot of shitty things, to a lot of different people. I went to Jonathan’s to apologize about his camera, but…obviously things didn’t go that way. And now with his brother home, he’s got more important things to worry about than whether or not he wants to forgive me.

“I apologized to Nancy, for…well. The thing at the Hawk. It was dumb, and I was hurt and overreacting for absolutely no reason, and I know I can’t erase it. Well…like I literally erased it, but it doesn’t…yeah. And she says she gets it, but that she still needs time, which I totally get. So I asked her if she thought I could talk to you without making things weird, because…I’ve been going around apologizing to people and…and I still haven’t apologized to you.”

He was quiet for a worrying amount of time. He was just looking down at his hands, perfectly still except for the rise and fall of his chest. Christine nearly kicked him to make sure he was still awake. But finally, Steve looked up at her. He almost looked bashful.

“I just wanna start by saying that…I honestly don’t expect you to forgive me at this point. Which is kinda why I’ve been putting it off. It’s a pretty long list of bullshit so…if you’re gonna punch me, just try and wait until the end, okay?”

“Okay,” she agreed hesitantly.

Steve wiped his hands down his face, and started from the top.

“Alright, well, first off—I’m honestly not that busy with basketball. I lie about that all the time to just about everyone so I can get out of chores and homework and everything else. I just hate physics. I don’t understand it, and I know you’re really good at it, so I let you do all the work so I can get a good grade without having to do anything. I lied because I knew that you’d do it for me. And I did the same thing when I invited you to Jenny’s party so I could hook up with Nancy. And when I invited you to my party so Nancy would come too. And when I asked you not to talk to the cops about the beers so I wouldn’t get in trouble. And…when I asked you come talk to me at the Hawk so Tommy could spray the building.

“All of it was—I was wrong on so many levels. I was a manipulative son-of-a-bitch. I was self-centered, and—and arrogant, and honestly—I just really liked knowing that you would do things for me if I asked. I guess it…I don’t know. It made me feel good about myself. So…So I used what I may or may not have known about…how you may or may not feel about me, just to get what I wanted. Which is like, super fucked up. And I don’t know if it counts for anything, but…I’m sorry. And I don’t want to be that guy anymore.”

None of this was news. Logically, Christine had known everything he’d said. She’s known Steve had been using her. She’d known he’d been doing it on purpose. She’d known that he had to have been clued in to something about her if he realized how he could manipulate her like that.

But somehow, hearing him say it was so, so much worse. Having to listen to him say the words, “how you feel about me”…she wasn’t sure if she’d ever been more mortified in her life.

She felt about ready to vomit. But she was still in a cast, and Steve was sitting nervously between her and the bathroom. It probably wouldn’t be good form to excuse herself to upchuck before they finished the conversation.

Christine smiled, knowing it was supposed to suppress the human gag reflex.

“Hey, it’s a two-way street, right?” she said, awkwardly. “I let you do it. It’s not like I didn’t know what was happening.”

“You knew?”

The thought honestly seemed to surprise him. Christine laughed for real, still dangerously close to tears.

“Yeah, Steve. I knew. You’re not that smooth.”

“But…if you knew it was a load of bullshit, then…why did you keep playing along?”

She must have given him the bitch face to end all bitch faces. She’d explained a lot of simple concepts to him in the past few months as his lab partner. She was not about to explain that.

Steve’s face dawned with realization, and he grimaced.

“Sorry, that’s…I’m a fucking idiot. In case you haven’t noticed.”

“Trust me, I’ve noticed.”

She regretted it as soon as the words left her mouth. She’d meant it as a slight, to mean that he was such an idiot, it was impossible to ignore. But in her mouth it just sounded like another compliment. Of course she’d noticed he was oblivious. She noticed everything about Steve, from his GPA to his cologne to his favorite breakfast sandwich. What hadn’t she noticed when she’d been spending all her days watching him?

Thankfully, Steve was just oblivious enough that he didn’t pick up on her tone.

“I am an idiot,” he agreed, with a smile. “I just meant that—you know, you’re way too cool to be taking orders from a douchebag like King Steve.”

That one threw her for a loop.

“I…what?”

Steve stared at her, seemingly just as surprised.

“Christine, you’re awesome. Just this month I’ve watched you finish four science projects, hold down a job, empty a shotgun into a monster and then jump into a hole in the ceiling to save a kid you barely knew. You got thrown into a wall—hell, even just the fact that you punched Tommy H! I mean, maybe you haven’t noticed, but…you’re kinda a badass.”

Her stomach could not digest the butterflies fast enough. It was infuriating.

“Shut up, Steve,” she said, shaking her head as he laughed.

“No, I’m serious! You’re a badass, you’re a genius, and you’re just…a really good person. And if by some miracle you don’t want to deck me, or jump ship and tell Mr. Austin you’d rather die than try and read my handwriting again, then…I’d really like to put in the work as your lab partner. And maybe be a better friend.”

Friend. Christine had to stow away her bitterness before it shone through. It was what she was going to get. Steve liked Nancy. Nancy liked Steve. Christine would not stand in the way. After all, it wasn’t all that different than it had been before. She would do what she had to if it meant spending time with him, and preserving her friendship with Nancy. She’d get over him and get used to it, because that was life. Sometimes, you had to put your own feelings aside.

“Friends, huh?” Christine stroked her chin dramatically. “I don’t know. Friends with Steve Harrington. That’s a pretty exclusive club.”

“Oh yeah,” he said, with an exaggerated nod. “So exclusive that membership is currently running at about oh, uh…zero. So, we could use the numbers.”

“Well, I guess that settles it.” Christine pushed herself closer to the end of the bed, extending her hand. “Consider me member number one.”

Steve beamed. It looked weird, with his broken face, and his eyes that were still a little too bloodshot to be normal. His mouth couldn’t make it all the way up on the right side, because his lip was still split. Still, he grinned like none of it could bother him, and clapped his hand into her own.

“So I’ll drive you?” he asked, even sounding hopeful.

“If you want to,” she said with a shrug. “I don’t want to make you look bad. I mean, Tommy will probably wonder why you’re riding with Psycho Bitch…”

“Screw Tommy. He’s an asshole anyway, and if he ever calls you that again, I’ll make sure his face looks worse than mine.”

Christine raised an unconvinced eyebrow, but decided not to comment. As his friend, it probably wasn’t nice to tell him he would lose that fight in a heartbeat.

“I do have one condition, though,” Steve added with a grave look.

“Besides my forgiveness?”

“Yeah. We are not listening to your music in my car.”

“Excuse me?” Christine’s jaw dropped and she glowered at him. “What’s wrong with my music?”

“I know! I’m sorry! It just—It seems kind of limited.”

He got up from his chair and circled around the bed, heading back to the dresser where her cassettes were still scattered. Christine grunted, and had to barrel roll clumsily on the bed to keep him in sight.

“I only got a quick look when I was picking up the tapes, but come on! Look at this! Piano Man, Billy Joel. Cold Spring Harbor, Billy Joel. Elton John, well, Elton John. Blonde on Blonde, Bob Dylan…that actually doesn’t sound bad. Oh look! Nylon Curtain, Billy Joel. Night at the Opera, Queen—that can stay. And, what a surprise, we’re back to Glass Houses by Mr. Billy Joel. I mean, where’s your Blondie? Where’s your MJ? Where do you get this stuff?”

She smiled. “A lot of it’s my mom’s.”

“So what? She makes you listen to all her stuff? I’m gonna have to sneak you a mix or something cause this collection is…phew!”

She decided to wait rather than say anything. It wasn’t long until he realized what was wrong. He was holding one her tapes up to the light, squinting at the tiny font. The squint ebbed away until he was finally staring at it with eyes blown wide. Gently, he put it down on the dresser again.

“Christine, I’m—I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“It’s fine,” she assured him. “You can’t know if I haven’t told you.”

“Yeah, but you did. You did tell me. At Jenny’s party, you said it was just you and your dad and I…I just don’t listen. Sorry.”

“Guess we can work on that too. That and your handwriting.”

Steve laughed politely. Christine was still smiling, and she beckoned with her hand. Steve dropped the Billy Joel cassette into her palm, and hesitantly sat next to her on the bed.

“She got sick when I was about four,” Christine confessed, flipping the tape in her hands. “In and out of the hospital with kidney problems. Eventually we had to move out of New York so she could get around the clock care. She couldn’t move a lot, so she’d just listen to a massive amount of music. I remember the nurses used to yell at her for singing too loud…and then, um…she died when I was six. That’s when Dad and I started doing the whole move around the country thing.”

“This guy her favorite?” Steve asked, tapping the tape.

“Yeah. He’s from New York, so she was always really big on him. State pride and whatever. He only had two albums out at the time, so the rest are mine. It just makes me feel closer to her, I guess. Like maybe it hasn’t been ten years.”

“Hey, I get that. It’s not the same thing, but I don’t feel that close to my mom either. I don’t think I could even tell you what her favorite artist was. Just the stuff my dad has us listen to.”

“Which is?”

“Beatles, mostly. It’s not the worst, but…it’s kinda like the movie theater, you know? You listen to the same thing every day and…”

“And suddenly ‘Blue Skies Forever’ is the worst song ever created,” Christine finished with a grin. “Yeah, I get you.”

Steve plucked the tape from her hands, inspecting it with renewed interest. “So he’s your favorite too, huh? You got any recommendations?”

“The Stranger,” she said without missing a beat. “1977. Not a miss track on it. I’ve probably got to get another copy soon, I listen to it so much. It’s in the other stereo though, cause…I was playing it for Eleven…”

Her sentence trailed off, but Steve just nodded in understanding. She wasn’t sure how much he knew about what had happened the other week. She supposed it was a conversation he’d have to have at some point, but if felt like something Nancy should do. She was the only reason Steve had gotten involved anyway.

He nudged Christine’s knee with his own and gave her a bracing smile. “You’ll have to make me a copy too, huh?”

“Hm…no. I don’t think so.” She enjoyed watching his face contort with shock, and couldn’t contain her smirk. “Make your own copy, Harrington.”

Steve laughed too loudly, which died instantly when there was a knock on the door. Panic shot across his face, and he jumped up from the bed.

“Shit! Shit, I’m—can you stall him? I can just head out, or—or hide in the closet, or…”

“Yeah, Dad, come on in!”

The door swung open, and her dad took his time stepping around the corner. He was wincing, afraid of what he might find inside. Christine wished he wouldn’t play it up so much. She was in a cast for Christ’s sake. How much trouble could she get into?

“Hi,” her dad said awkwardly. “Are…we still having dinner?”

“Yeah. I tried to ask what you wanted before but you never answered me.”

“Right. I was…a little preoccupied.”

His eyes shot to Steve, who was standing stock still in the middle of the room. Realizing he’d been spotted, he quickly composed his face into a smile.

“Uh…h-hey! You—You must be Christine’s dad. I was just…just asking about some notes for school, so I thought I’d…”

“Sneak in through my daughter’s window?” her dad finished coolly.

Steve’s face flushed with terror once more.

“Relax, Dad,” Christine scolded. “Steve, this is my dad. Dad, this is Steve Harrington. My lab partner.”

“Your…lab partner,” her father repeated, turning to her with a knowing look. “Right. Nice to meet you, Steve.”

“Likewise,” Steve said quickly. His voice was about two octaves too high. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Walcott. Christine is…she’s like super smart. Probably the only reason I’m passing physics.”

“I see. And…will you be joining us for dinner?”

“Oh! No, I don’t want to be—I should probably just…”

“Yeah, Steve,” said Christine, enjoying his discomfort. “We were just trying to decide between pizza, burgers and Chinese. What do you think?”

It was hilarious how betrayed he looked.

“Um, I don’t—no, I don’t think—you know, ha! Who am I to…?”

“Come on,” she said with a shrug. “You’ve been living in Hawkins your whole life. You must know where all the best take out is.”

“Yeah, but my parents…”

“Would probably want you to study so you can start passing your physics tests instead of just your physics labs.”

Steve glared at the thinly veiled threat. His eyes bounced nervously between Christine and her father, each more amused than the next. He ran a hand through his hair, and deflated.

“Uh…burgers sound great. There’s a diner on the north side that does pick up.”

“Great. Dad can call it in, and we’ll go pick it up.” Christine grinned, and herded Steve toward the door with her crutch. “We can listen to some Billy Joel on the way.”

#ocappreciation #stranger things #stranger things oc #stranger things fanfiction #fyeahstrangerthingsocs #chapters #chapter 24

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detectivejigsawpines · 4 years

Text

ORN-Part 3 (Reunions are Awkward)

Of course, Stan went.

Because the fortune teller lady said Ford would destroy the world if he didn’t, of course. Definitely not because he really wanted to see his brother and it seemed like just maybe Ford wanted to see him too.

A day after that phone call he got over himself enough to call Ford back and, before he could change his mind, tell him that he’d be there in a few days. Then he headed for Gravity Falls, Oregon, only stopping for gas and whatever food he could shoplift or dig out of the dumpsters (don’t look at him like that-people threw away perfectly good stuff all the time, and it wasn’t like he had any personal dignity left to worry about, he lived in his car and had the beginnings of a mullet, for cripes’ sake).

Eventually the red car, still in as good of working condition as he was capable of keeping it, meandered into the sleepy little town at around sunset, and after a bit of searching he was pulling up in front of a large, wooden cabin.

Stan’s heart leaped into his mouth and his palms began to sweat even more than usual when he saw that Ford was sitting on the front porch waiting for him (even from this far away, and after five years, he could still recognize him anywhere).

Quickly he turned off the ignition, not wanting to waste gas...but he didn’t get out yet. He just sat there for a second and stared at his brother.

Ford stared back.

Stan stared at Ford.

Ford stared back.

Stan squeezed the steering wheel, trying to work up the nerve to get out and go see his brother.

Ford, probably wondering what the holdup was, stood up and started down the steps.

Stan forced himself to let go of the steering wheel and unbuckle his seat belt, then slowly open the car door and get out.

“You look good,” he said, at last.

It was true; Ford was still skinny, but it also looked like he’d actually started getting more sunshine and fresh air out here.

Ford was staring at him intently, eyes troubled behind their glasses and mouth open in a small gasp.

“...What? You want a kiss on the cheek or something?” Stan demanded uncomfortably.

“What happened?” Ford asked, voice sounding troubled too.

It was then Stan remembered that oh, yes, he had a huge bruise all over the left side of his face that had also included a bit of a black eye and a split lip. He gave an uncertain laugh.

“Oh, that? Just a little incident from a few days ago. This gal tried ta steal my car, I stopped her, she objected ta some of the names I called her.”

And, he remembered, Marilyn had retaliated during the ensuing fight by running some off on him that he’d actually written down for future reference.

He shrugged, smiling a little crookedly. And painfully, since when he thought about it the bruise did hurt.

“I’m just lucky she missed with the hand that had a broken bottle in it.”

For some weird reason Ford did not seem appeased. “I have some ice in the house, come on.”

“It’s just a bruise,” he protested.

“I said come on.” And Ford turned back towards the house.

Stan gave a small, resigned sigh, and followed him after grabbing his duffel bag.

********

The house was...not bad. Had a bit of science clutter strewn here and there, but it was cozy enough to look at.

“You live here alone?” Stan asked as he followed Ford to the kitchen.

“Yes.” Ford reached into the freezer and produced an ice pack, turning and holding it out to Stan. His eyebrows scrunched together at the sight of the duffel. “Is that all you’re bringing in?”

“It’s all I got- need.” Stan smashed the ice pack onto his face, refusing to wince at the pain that such a counterproductive action created.

Of course, Ford wasn’t fooled. He looked him up and down, and his expression became even more troubled.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer!” Stan snapped.

He was beginning to think this had been a mistake. Ford was living here all by himself; from what he’d seen of the place, it didn’t look like he had people coming by on a regular basis, if at all. He was just fine, he didn’t-

“Are you hungry?”

Stan blinked. And as if planned by some sinister being, his treacherous stomach grumbled.

“I made soup,” Ford said, indicating the stockpot on the stove. “It’s got bacon bits in it, I...remembered you like those.”

After a second, Stan shrugged, sitting down in one of the chairs around the table. “Sure, I can eat. Thanks.”

Dinner was awkwardly silent for the most part at first. Stan tried not to show how incredibly hungry he was, or how amazing it was to be having a full hot meal for the first time in a while, instead asking at last about how things were going for Ford, trying to probe some more.

Ford (hesitant at first, but soon with blatant eagerness) produced a big maroon journal that he’d apparently made himself, cataloging all his research and showing that Gravity Falls was pretty much his dream weird place.

If they hadn’t run into the Jersey Devil when they were kids, and if he didn’t know that in addition to self-care, Ford also sucked at lying, Stan probably wouldn’t have believed him when he talked about things like gnomes living in the forest and occasionally raiding his kitchen, or a giant tree man who ate his car (privately he hoped that thing didn’t come after the Stanley-Mobile; it was one of the only possessions he had that was unquestionably his, and he would fight to the death to keep it if he had to).

The only person in this whole town (or the world, really) he seemed to have any kind of relationship with was Dan Corduroy, who’d helped him build this house and was one of the only neighbors he knew by name. Other than that, he stayed in his own little bubble of experiments and weirdness and the only danger he seemed to be in was from his own social crippledness.

When both their bowls were empty, Stan snatched them up and took them to the sink to wash them.

“You don’t have to do that,” Ford objected.

“You cooked. It’s only fair.” Besides, it also gave Stan a chance to wash his hands so at least part of him was clean.

When they were washed out, Stan very carefully set the bowls and spoons in the drying rack. Then he turned around to face Ford, feeling the tension building up between them again.

“...Do you need anything else?” Ford asked.

“A washing machine?” The stiff politeness between them was making it all Stan could do not to scream.

“Oh-of course. This way.” Ford got up and led the way to the laundry room.

After he’d put his clothes in the wash Ford showed him the spare guest room and bathroom, and then told him to just come find him if he needed anything, before disappearing into the recesses of the house.

Stan decided to take a shower, and forcibly resisted the urge to use up all the hot water. Then he went to bed (in clean underwear and an undershirt!)...and stared vacantly at the ceiling for about twenty minutes before going out to sit on the front porch and wonder what he thought he was doing here.

Sooner or later something between them had to give, and they would have to talk about all the things they were conspicuously trying to avoid talking about, or (more likely) straight-out fight about them. Otherwise, it was doubtful there was gonna be any ‘mending of bonds’ between them. Stan almost thought he’d prefer going back to jail and telling some of the guys he’d met there that their mothers sucked eggs.

I said I was sorry, didn’t I? That’s probably good enough.

No it’s not, knucklehead, and you know it. Besides, you gotta make sure that he doesn’t ‘choose the wrong allies,’ whatever that means.

How? Corduroy sounds like he’s just fine, I doubt he’s who that lady was talking about.

Well, maybe you just need to wait and see if someone shows up who seems like trouble.

Someone already did: me.

His inner self rolled his eyes at him. You know what I mean. Just stay for as long as you can without being a leech. Give it time-you haven’t even been here a full day yet.

Stan sighed, and stared gloomily out at the trees, trying to turn off his thoughts for a little bit and enjoy the sounds of the wind and crickets so maybe he’d get tired enough to sleep.

#Gravity Falls #flipside AU #stan pines #ford pines #young stan and ford #mullet Stan #gloomy thoughts #reunion

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callboxkat · 5 years

Text

Second Chances part 3: Pressure

Author’s note: I’m so sorry for the wait on this! I hope the length makes up for it.

Warnings: talk of homelessness, prejudice, worry over being kicked out, job interview, self deprecation, food mention. Sorry that I’m still really bad at figuring out warnings, but I’m doing my best!

Word count: 7405

Masterpost!

...

It was odd, Roman thought, how much his life had changed in the past couple of days.

Two days ago, he had been just another dirty homeless man: friendless, jobless, and all but hopeless. He’d been kicked out from the only homeless shelter in the city and even banned from staying in the local park, whose gazebo was apparently a place where Roman couldn’t spend the night without “disturbing the peace”. He’d been reduced to digging through trash cans for food and wandering the city at all hours of the night because he had nowhere to go. No business, not even a library or supermarket, wanted a homeless man loitering inside, and as the incident in the park demonstrated, he wasn’t welcome to stay anywhere outside, either.

Now, things were looking up: Roman had a place to stay, with a former high school rival and his very kind boyfriend, a pre-veterinarian student who was as fond of hugs as he was of animals. Despite their less than amicable relationship in the past, Logan was letting Roman stay in their guestroom, eat their food, and just generally intrude on their lives. Even more incomprehensible to the formerly homeless man, the two were so far asking for nothing in return. It was strange, and rather overwhelming, but quite a positive change for Roman.

The very next day after Logan discovered Roman foraging in his trashcan—a rather undignified way to make their reacquaintance—Logan and Patton had trusted Roman to stay alone in their house, just spending the day relaxing. Being homeless was hard on a person, and Roman had needed the rest. That night, when the two boyfriends had returned home, they and their houseguest had spent much of the evening catching Roman up on the Disney movies that had been released while he was living on the streets. The whole situation was an almost overwhelming change for the better.

It wasn’t all hugs and movie marathons, though.

When Logan had invited Roman to stay at his home, it wasn’t only he and his boyfriend who lived there. Logan had a sister, Val, who was understandably less than keen to have a homeless male stranger staying in her house. She had left the house entirely, going to stay with a friend for the time being. Roman didn’t know how long she would be gone. Probably until her brother wised up and kicked Roman back out onto the streets.

Roman was also still working on getting a job. It was hard to know where to start: he hadn’t worked in a while, and although he was sure Logan would lend him some clothes to wear to an interview, Roman wasn’t sure how he would manage to get one of those in the first place. His resume wouldn’t exactly be impressive once he actually put one together. Which was what he planned to do today.

It was the day after the impromptu Disney marathon. Roman didn’t sleep in quite as late as the day before; in fact, he could still hear movement downstairs. Patton had already left a note for him on the dresser, but he skipped reading that for the moment and instead just made his way downstairs, entering the kitchen when Logan and Patton were just finishing their breakfast.

“Oh, hi Roman! Good morning,” Patton said, noticing him first, as he went to put away the orange juice.

“Morning,” Roman mumbled, still a little sleepy, as he shoved his hands in his pockets. Consequently, the greeting came out sounding more like ‘morng’.

“Would you like some breakfast?” Logan asked, at the same time Patton opened his mouth again, probably about to make a similar offer. The latter broke off with a smile.

“Um... I thought you had to leave?” Roman pointed out.

“That is correct,” Logan admitted. “Although I believe we can spare a few minutes.” He glanced at the clock to be sure, then nodded.

Patton perked up. “I’ll make you some pancakes! We have some batter left. Do you like pancakes?”

“Um, sure.”

While Patton worked on that, Logan set the maple syrup and butter back on the counter; and he went to fetch a plate and some silverware for Roman. Meanwhile, Roman just slowly sat down in one of the chairs, not sure what else to do with himself.

Patton had a bit of flour in his hair when he set a gently steaming plate in front of Roman.

“Okay, we really do have to go now,” he giggled, pulling Roman into a quick (yet absolutely divine) hug before he grabbed Logan’s hand and pulled his boyfriend towards the front door. Logan gave him a quick wave good-bye as he was towed away.

“Have a good day!”

There was a brief pause. Then, just as the door shut, Roman finally choked out, “You too.”

He still wasn’t quite sure how to react to all of this. All this charity, especially since it was Logan offering it to him, was disconcerting. He still had to work out how he felt. But for now, he supposed, he might as well just eat his pancakes.

When he was done with that, Roman cleaned off his plate and fork, put everything away, and went back upstairs. He showered and got dressed—thankfully, today he got to wear a spare set of his own clothes that he had had in his backpack, freshly washed, rather than another outfit of Logan’s. He still had a towel around his shoulders when he picked up the note that Patton had left for him. It was pretty similar to the one from the day before, just wishing him a good morning and assuring him that he could make himself at home. A couple of dad jokes were snuck in today, which made Roman crack a smile. At the end, there was a postscript.

PS: Logan wanted me to tell you that he set you up an account on the desktop. The password is Princey for now but you can change it to whatever you want!

Roman sighed in relief. He’d brought up his idea to work on his resume to Logan late last night, but even so, he hadn’t wanted to make any assumptions and just use their computer while the couple was away. He’d forgotten to ask about it again this morning, but clearly, Logan had remembered. That nerd.

So, Roman spent the morning creating and editing his resume. After that, he decided to see if there was anything he could do around the house, to somehow help out, before he started looking for potential jobs. He could dust, or vacuum, or something. His feet still hurt, sure, but he wasn’t as tired as he had been the previous two days. And he really did want to make himself useful. Or, he supposed, it was more of a need than a want. He needed to not be dead weight.

…

Logan unlocked the front door of his house, pausing to pick up the grocery bags at his feet before pushing it open with his hip.

“Hey, Roman?” he called out. “Are you here?”

There was a shuffle, and then footsteps. Logan looked up to see the formerly homeless man approaching.

“Yeah, what’s—oh,” he said, seeing the grocery bags. “Need some help?”

“Yes, please,” Logan sighed. He set the four bags he was carrying on the counter and turned to head out the door. “Would you mind starting to put some of that away? I have more bags in the car.”

“Uh, yeah, sure.”

“Thank you,” Logan said, turning and walking back out. He left the door open, so it would be easier to get back in with the rest of the bags. When he did return, Roman was almost done putting away the contents of the first bag. He didn’t know where the new items fit with their organization system, Logan knew, but as long as the frozen foods didn’t thaw out on the countertop and everything was put away in an orderly manner, he would be pleased.

“I will return momentarily,” Logan said, setting the remaining bags down.

Roman made a noise in his throat as a response. Logan walked off towards the bathroom, but he paused on the way, standing in the living room. Because of Logan’s distaste for germs, his home was always very clean, but nevertheless, it appeared to be even more pristine than when he had left this morning. He had already noticed that Roman had gone ahead and washed all the dishes and pans from breakfast, as well as wiping down the counters, but since he had been focused on not dropping any of the overfilled grocery bags, he hadn’t realized that Roman had taken similar action in the living room, too. The books on the shelves seemed to have been straightened and ordered to a nearly obsessive degree, and the blankets across the back of the sofa had been refolded. The throw pillows were fluffed and carefully placed. The effect was like something out of a home living magazine.

Logan wasn’t sure whether to feel touched by the effort, or dejected that Roman felt that such action was necessary.

…

Roman shut the freezer door, jumping when it revealed Logan standing right behind it, less than a foot away from him.

“What the hell, Specs?” he cried, clutching his chest.

Logan looked confused at Roman’s alarm. “Oh, my apologies.”

“Any particular reason you decided to scare me half to death?”

“I was merely on my way back to the kitchen. You just happened to close the door at the wrong moment,” Logan pointed out.

Roman sighed, turning back to the grocery bags. “Okay, fine, whatever.”

Logan moved to his side and started helping Roman to empty the bags. “How are you feeling?” he asked, reaching up to place a couple of boxes of tea bags in a cabinet.

“Marvelous,” Roman replied, looking over with a small smile.

“And your feet?”

“…Fine,” Roman said, less cheerfully. Sure, straightening up the house had taken a while, even though it had already been freakishly clean, but he was fine. His feet were sore, yes, but still considerably less so than they would be if he’d had to spend the day wandering the city. Again.

Logan looked him up and down, but thankfully, he just continued to help empty the grocery bags.

“Patton should be home earlier tonight,” he said conversationally.

“Oh?”

“Mhm. This is the last week of his summer courses. I believe he only has a couple of tests and lab exams left. Once those are out of the way, he’ll be free until the fall, when his senior year starts.”

“Why’s he taking summer courses, anyway?” Roman asked, folding up the reusable grocery bags that had already been emptied.

“He wanted to get a head start, so to speak, so that his last year as an undergraduate will have a lighter course load.” Logan smiled lightly. “Although, I believe a significant factor is his love of his work. He loves to help animals, and the program he is involved with includes work with local veterinary clinics and animal shelters.”

“Oh, wow, that’s great,” Roman said, honestly impressed. “Good for him.” He settled himself down in one of the kitchen chairs as Logan put away the grocery bags. Once he sat down in a nearby chair, Roman asked, “So, uh… what are you up to these days?”

“Well, right now I am sitting in my kitchen, talking to you.”

Roman shook his head, fighting the urge to roll his eyes in amusement. He knew Logan wasn’t really that oblivious. “Was that a joke? I didn’t know you made jokes.”

Logan offered a sly grin.

“I meant, you know, in general. Like how Patton’s going to school to be a vet.”

“Ah. Well, employment-wise, I work at a library in town most days.”

“Did you go to college?”

“Yes, but only for my bachelor’s degree. I double-majored in English and psychology, with a minor in astronomy.”

“Astronomy?”

The corner of Logan’s mouth quirked up. “I took quite a few classes purely out of interest, so there came a point when it was simply nonsensical to not add the qualification.”

Roman nodded. That made sense, he supposed, picking at a loose thread in his jeans.

Logan glanced at the time on the digital clock over the stove. He tapped his fingers absently on the countertop. Roman wondered if he was aware of it.

“How was your day?” Logan asked after a moment, looking back at him.

…

Roman was still picking at that spot on his jeans. Had Logan done something to make him uncomfortable? He hoped he hadn’t. Logan would hate for them both to be discomforted. He himself was already in a bit of an awkward spot. Based on the flow of their conversation so far, Logan had nearly instinctively asked about Roman’s own college years. Something that, judging by his current situation, probably hadn’t happened. His next thought, of course, was to ask what he had been up to, but he guessed that that might be no less of a dangerous topic to bring up.

So, he settled on the fairly bland, “How was your day?”

“Good,” Roman nodded. Logan was beginning to be concerned that he would put a new hole in his jeans, which were already quite frayed at the hems, and torn at one knee.

“Did you do anything… ah, interesting?”

“If you find writing a resume interesting,” Roman shrugged. “No luck actually finding a job, though, surprise, surprise.”

“I am certain you will come across something suitable in the near future.”

“Thanks, I guess,” he sighed.

“Roman.” Logan fixed him with a serious look. “Something will come along. Just give it time.”

…

The next few days passed in much the same manner. Roman would wake up, eat breakfast with Patton and Logan if they hadn’t already left for the day, do some job hunting, and do what he could to help out around the house until they returned from their own jobs and classes.

About a week went by with no luck in Roman’s job hunt before he caught a break. In the end, it wasn’t even he who found the job—Patton found it for him.

He knew something was different that afternoon—Patton showed up at the house practically bouncing up and down with barely-contained excitement. At first, Roman had assumed it was just because Patton had done well on one of his tests, but apparently there was more to the story.

Patton came straight up to him as soon as he put away his school things. Roman, who had been scrolling through job listings, was a bit surprised when Patton all but put himself between Roman and the screen until he turned around. Patton was grinning eagerly.

“Uh, hey, Pat,” Roman had said, confused. While Patton did always greet him and often offer a hug almost as soon as he got home, he wasn’t usually so obtrusive in interrupting Roman’s job search.

“Hey, kiddo! Sorry, I just got a bit eager!” Patton told him once he had the older man’s attention. “Sooo, I know you’ve been looking for a job, and I did a little asking around--,”

“Patton, you didn’t have to do that,” Roman interrupted.

“—and I think I might have found you something! It’s at a café, working for a friend of a friend of mine.”

Roman’s mouth opened slightly. “Really?”

“Yeah! My friend’s talking to him this afternoon, but—” Patton tapped his foot against Roman’s “—you should be a shoe-in!

Roman smiled, although he was unable to stop the sinking feeling in his chest. It wasn’t a sure deal. Patton seemed to think it was, but that clearly wasn’t the case. Roman’s luck might not hold out with this possibility. And since when had Roman had anything resembling good luck?

Patton looked so eager, though, so Roman did his best to hide his misgivings.

“What kind of job is it?” he asked.

“It’s a barista job. You wouldn’t have to work by yourself, either—there’s another kiddo who works the same shifts. My friend says she’s heard they can be a bit grumpy, but they’re really a sweetheart when you get to know them.”

“Oh.”

“You’ll have to give him your resume, of course, and he’ll probably want to interview you, too,” he admitted.

“That’s no problem,” Roman assured.

“Great! I’ll let you know what my friend says.”

Whether or not this actually worked out, Roman couldn’t help but melt at how excited Patton was to help him. “Thank you, Patton. Truly.”

…

Roman tugged at his necktie, unused to its weight. He wasn’t a huge fan of having things tied around his neck, not even scarves, so he usually avoided wearing things like this. But he looked very professional, according to Logan, and if Patton’s happy hand flapping was anything to go by, he also approved. Roman himself had to admit, looking in the bathroom mirror, that he did look rather dashing. He was wearing a plain gray dress shirt, a blue tie, and dark slacks (all Logan’s). Patton had taken him to buy some shoes for the occasion, since he didn’t share a size with either of them, although Roman had insisted on getting them second-hand.

He had an interview today for the job that Patton had found for him. Logan was coming to get him in a few minutes, to bring him downtown. It was an easily walkable distance, especially now that his feet had improved, but Logan had insisted. Roman had agreed to it, if for no other reason than because this would guarantee that he still looked presentable once he arrived.

Logan had assured him that he could continue looking for other positions should he want to work somewhere else, but that this was an excellent opportunity in the meantime. Roman, however, didn’t mind that it was just a barista job in a coffee shop. He would probably be happy finding work anywhere.

…

Roman stepped out onto the sidewalk and let out a breath he hadn’t known he was holding. The interview had gone surprisingly well, he thought. Maybe. Had it gone well? Roman thought so, but perhaps he had messed up in some way he was unaware of. Maybe the interviewer actually hated him and was just really good at hiding it.

Ugh, why had Roman even bothered to do this? No one in their right mind would ever want to hire him. Not when they had literally any other option.

Roman screwed his eyes shut for a second, trying to stop the spiral his thoughts were currently going down. He let out a breath, shoving his hands in his pockets as he paced up and down the block.

The interview had gone well. The interviewer had been smiling when he shook Roman’s hand at the end of it. Roman hadn’t mentioned anything about being homeless or not having a car, and the interviewer hadn’t asked about the gap in his employment. He’d followed all the advice that Logan had given him. Towards the beginning of the interview, he’d felt almost as if he were being suffocated, but he did his best to come across as confident and charming. It was a good thing he was an actor. Eventually, that confidence became more real as the nerves wore off. They were just making a reappearance now because he didn’t know the result yet.

Logan’s car pulled up to the curb and Roman forced himself to stop pacing. The passenger side door popped open and Patton emerged. He approached Roman and took his hands. He hadn’t missed the pacing, or the slightly panicked look that Roman was sure was in his eyes.

“Hey, kiddo! What’s wrong? Did it go okay?”

Roman swallowed and forced himself to nod. “Yeah—uh, yeah,” he said, looking up as another car door shut. Logan was walking over to join them on the sidewalk.

“Then what’s wrong?”

“Just—I’m just a bit nervous is all,” he admitted sheepishly.

“That is understandable,” Logan said. He casually linked his arm with Patton’s. “Are you ready to go?”

Roman nodded, and they all got back in the car. Roman sat in the back, looking out the window thoughtfully.

Once they got back to the house, Logan helped him draft an email to the interviewer to thank him for the opportunity. Roman hadn’t heard of doing such a thing before, but Logan asserted that it was a good idea.

“It is not technically a requirement, of course,” Logan said, “but it will help you to stand out among any other candidates and convey the interest that you hold in obtaining the position.”

Roman couldn’t argue with that.

…

Early that evening, Logan received a call from his sister. Patton, with whom he had been having a conversation at the time, insisted that he take it now rather than wait. Logan smiled gratefully, kissed him on the cheek, and went into their bedroom to take the call.

“Hello, Val,” he answered.

“Hi Logan.”

“How are you?”

“I’m alright…. Logan, I think we both know why I called.”

“Yes. Roman is still here.”

He heard a sigh on the other end.

“I understand that you do not like having a stranger in our house, and I know that I should have asked both you and Patton before I invited him to stay. However, I do believe that if you met him, you would understand that he is completely harmless. He has been nothing but gentlemanly since he arrived here. He is trying very hard to turn his life around. He even had a job interview today.”

“I don’t know, Lo….”

“What if we all had dinner together? You could come over tonight. Bring your friend if you like. You can meet Roman properly.”

“And if I decide I still don’t want him in our house?”

Logan let out a sigh. “Then we can look into finding him other accommodations. A hotel, perhaps. However, I refuse to kick him back out onto the streets.” He waited for a second. “Can we expect you for dinner?”

There was a short pause as Valerie thought it over. “Okay,” she finally agreed. “I’ll be there at seven.”

…

Roman hadn’t meant to eavesdrop.

He’d been bringing the clothes he had borrowed for the interview back to Patton’s and Logan’s room, and had been about to knock on the door when he heard Logan’s voice floating through it. He was about to turn around and come back later, when Logan wasn’t clearly on the phone; but when he heard his name come up, Roman froze.

He couldn’t help but stand there, stiff, listening to Logan’s half of the phone conversation. It sounded like someone was coming over for dinner… but that Logan was also considering putting him in a hotel rather than allowing him to remain here. A small sting of hurt went through Roman’s chest. He understood, he really did, and it was so kind of Logan to consider putting him in a hotel at all and not just back on the street. So, why was he disappointed?

He didn’t take long to dwell. Roman knew that the phone call had ended, so he only waited a second before knocking on the door, trying to seem like he had only just gotten there.

…

Logan slid his phone into his pocket. “Come in,” he called.

The door cracked open, revealing Roman standing there with a carefully folded stack of clothes.

“I thought you might want these back,” he said, indicating the clothes in his arms.

“Yes,” Logan said. “Of course. Thank you. I can take those.” He walked over and retrieved the clothes from Roman’s arms, setting them on the dresser. He stood there for a moment, then turned around to see that Roman hadn’t moved. “Did you need something else?”

“No, no, I just… Thanks. For driving me to the interview today. And for, uh, everything.”

Logan regarded him for a second. “You’re welcome,” he said.

Roman turned to go, but Logan held out a hand. “Wait.”

Roman stopped. Something flashed in his eyes, but it was gone before Logan could identify it. “What is it?”

“Valerie is going to be coming over for dinner,” Logan said. “I dislike that she feels the need to stay away from home so long.”

Roman averted his gaze.

“So, my hope is that if she meets you in person, properly, she might change her mind about you and return.”

Roman looked back up, skeptical. “Do you think that’s likely?”

“I have to try,” Logan said. “She is my sister. I cannot ignore her feelings, although I will attempt once more to change them.”

Roman nodded slowly. “Thanks for the heads up,” he said, perhaps a little stiffly, and left.

…

Roman had thought that the coffee shop job interview had been stressful. What a joke. This put much more pressure on him. He thought he might be crushed by it.

Logan and Val were using one single dinner to decide whether they were going to allow him to stay, or whether they were just going to stick him in a hotel room and say, “good luck!” He would have somewhere to stay, that was true, but no internet access, fewer affordable and decent meals, less contact with Patton and Logan to ask for advice and borrow clothes from for interviews. If he was stuck in a hotel and he didn’t get the barista job, Roman couldn’t help but feel like he was doomed. He would end up right back on the street as soon as they inevitably tired of paying the hotel bill. Up until that point, however far in the future that may be, that situation would still be infinitely better than what he’d had before Logan decided to take pity on him and take him in, but he didn’t want to lose what he had. He… liked Logan. He liked Patton. He liked living with them.

“No pressure, no pressure at all,” he whispered, pacing back and forth in the guest room.

…

It was six thirty at night. Patton stood in the kitchen, stirring a large spoon through a pot of zucchini noodles. They were trying out a new pasta recipe for that night.

He looked over to where Roman stood a few feet away, cutting up tomatoes, garlic, and basil leaves on their cutting board. He looked very concentrated on the task. Patton smiled. Roman was such a thoughtful kiddo, volunteering to help cook when he didn’t have to. He was clearly doing his best to pay him and Logan back for helping him. Patton only hoped that Val would change her mind about him.

Once the noodles were done, Patton strained out the extra water, and Roman put in the vegetables and parmesan cheese. Patton stirred it all together and put it on a serving dish for Roman to carry out to the table.

“Got it?” he asked, not wanting Roman to drop it. The other man nodded, smiled at him, and brought the dish over to the table. Patton grabbed a plate of cookies that he had baked earlier and carried them over there as well. Logan had just finished carefully placing the plates, napkins, and silverware, and walked past them on his way to get the glasses.

Patton set down the cookies, grabbed the drinks from the fridge, and then everything was ready.

The plot convenience of movies would have had Valerie arrive the moment the last dish was in place, but this was not a movie. About fifteen minutes passed between when they finished setting everything up and when Valerie actually arrived. When the knock on the door finally came—brisk, sudden, loud—all three of them jumped.

Logan excused himself, pushed back his chair, and went to get the door. Patton looked at Roman, who looked decidedly nervous. He reached over and took one of his hands under the table, squeezing it reassuringly.

…

Roman shot Patton a grateful look when the latter took his hand. He needed something to break him out of his worried thoughts.

A moment longer passed before Logan returned, tailed by the woman who must have been Valerie. She was tall and thin, with brown eyes and long hair. She was quite pretty, and Roman supposed that if he swung that way he might have found her attractive. She really didn’t look much like Logan, but he could see some resemblance in the curve of their noses, their dark hair, and the shape of their jaws.

He stood up and reached out politely to shake her hand, but she just stared at his hand for a second before looking back up at him. Roman awkwardly lowered his hand and sat back down. She and Logan followed suit.

“Who wants pasta?” Patton asked, clearly trying to lessen the tension in the room. “Roman and I made it ourselves.”

“I would love some, dear,” Logan said, picking up his plate and passing it over.

“So, Val, what have you been up to?” Patton asked while he spooned zucchini noodles onto his boyfriend’s plate.

She sighed. “I’ve been staying with Dahlia. Other than that, just the usual. Work, mostly.”

Patton nodded, taking Roman’s plate to serve him some pasta as well.

“How have your classes been going?” Val offered.

“They’ve been great!” Patton said. “Mind if I take your plate for a sec?” When she handed it over, he continued, “I just love everything about it. I love learning about animals, and I love the work. It’s tough, I guess, and a lot of homework, but it’s definitely worth it.” He smiled brightly, handing back the now full plate, and finally put some pasta on his own dish. He looked at Roman. “Why don’t you tell us about your job interview, Roman?”

Roman jumped upon actually being addressed. He’d been focusing on trying to eat as neatly as possible—he didn’t need Val to think he was a slob. It was bad enough that her first impression of him had been formed while he was passed out on a couch in dirty clothes and looking like he’d never even heard the word ‘shower’.

“Oh… my—my interview?” he repeated dumbly. Patton nodded encouragingly. “Yeah. So, as you and Logan know, it was for that barista job that you so kindly found for me. I think it went quite well, although I cannot help but be nervous. I assure you I did my best to keep in mind the invaluable council that both of you provided me. The interviewer—Bradley, his name was—he seemed to like me. He said that if get the job, I’ll be working with another barista in a store not far from here. I’d be able to walk to work, so neither of you would need to worry about driving me.”

“I hope it works out. You were so nervous,” Patton said.

Roman smiled. “Never fear. No matter the outcome, I will be as glittery as ever.”

“Indeed,” Logan agreed, although Roman was sure he had no idea what Roman meant by ‘glittery’, “more opportunities will present themselves in the future. It would not be the end of the world, if you’ll allow me to hyperbolize, should you not be chosen for this job.”

Roman nodded, smile still in place. He knew that. Rationally, he knew that. And he was trying very hard to believe it.

Val was watching quietly, looking from Roman to Logan to Patton. She twirled a bit of pasta on her fork and took a bite.

“This is really good, Pat,” she said. “You said you made this yourself?”

“Me and Roman!” he clarified cheerfully. “Logan chose the recipe, I made the noodles, and Roman cut up the veggies. He was a great help.” Roman blinked. For some reason, it just struck him then that Patton really did want him there. He could have just confirmed that he had made the pasta, but Patton had chosen to highlight Roman’s contributions as well.

Dinner continued, the conversation gradually growing more natural and comfortable. Roman’s nerves calmed somewhat. Val wasn’t being hostile, not even to him. No one was talking about kicking him out—at least, not yet. She didn’t flinch back in disgust when she asked for the salt and he was the one to hand it over. It still hurt a little that she had refused to shake his hand, and that she sort of went out of her way to avoid touching his hand when she took the salt from him, but Roman told himself that for all he knew, she had an aversion to touch.

For the most part, she seemed to be ignoring his presence. Roman hoped that this was a good thing. She wasn’t openly glaring or anything, which he would take as a win.

After everyone had finished their pasta, Patton insisted that everyone take one of the cookies that he had baked for the occasion.

“I’ll take mine to go, Pat,” Val said, already getting up. “Thank you for inviting me over,” she said to Logan. Roman’s idea about touch aversion was disproven as Logan stood and was pulled into a brief but tight hug. Patton, looking a little disappointed at her departure, went to get a hug next. Releasing him, Valerie turned towards Roman, giving him a tight smile.

“It was… it was good to meet you. Properly, I mean, this time,” she said, her voice a little stiff.

Roman stood up and did a small bow. “It was an honor to meet you, fair lady.”

She looked rather confused at that, and Roman felt a light flush of embarrassment. Okay, maybe that was trying a little too hard. He sounded like he was playing a knight in a high school play or something. But all she did was smile politely, if still stiffly, before choosing a cookie from the plate, wrapping it in a napkin, and departing.

Roman sat back down with a sigh. Patton sat down with him and took his hand, squeezing it gently. “That didn’t go so bad, did it?”

“Badly,” Logan automatically corrected. He was at the kitchen counter, having already grabbed his and Val’s plates from the table.

“Hush,” Patton said. “Or I’ll throw a cookie at you.”

“Sounds delicious.”

“You really think it went well?” Roman asked hesitantly. “She wouldn’t even shake my hand.”

“She’ll come around,” Patton assured.

“Certainly,” Logan agreed, coming back for Patton’s and Roman’s plates. “Allow her to take everything into consideration tonight. Once she has finished ruminating, I am sure she will decide in your favor.”

Roman made a quick mental note to look up the word ‘ruminating’ later. “Thank you, guys,” he said quietly. Patton squeezed his hand again, and then went to help Logan clean up.

…

Early the next morning, Logan received a call on his cell phone. He quickly turned off the ringer. He had already been awake, looking through LinkedIn and checking his email, but Patton had still been fast asleep, his head a comfortable weight on Logan’s chest. Logan reluctantly started to get up and mumbled an apology to his very sleepy boyfriend. Patton just grumbled unhappily at him as his pillow slipped out of the bed.

Logan put on his slippers and walked into the hall to dial the number back. They picked up on the first ring.

“Hey, Logan.”

“Val? What number is this?”

“I’m borrowing Dahlia’s cell. My phone charger broke so mine didn’t charge last night.”

“Ah. May I ask why you are calling so early this morning?”

“I know you’re an early riser. Anyway, I wanted to talk to you.”

…

Patton stirred as Logan returned to bed. He looked up at Logan groggily. He wasn’t sure how long Logan had been gone. It seemed like he had only blinked, and his boyfriend was back.

“Go back to sleep, dear,” Logan whispered, laying down. Patton scooted closer and laid his head back on his chest, putting his arm around Logan’s torso and closing his eyes.

When he woke up again a little later, he could tell Logan was still awake.

“Why’d you leave earlier?” he asked before breaking off to yawn.

“Val called.”

Patton sat up then, looking at Logan as best he could without his glasses. “Wha’d she say?”

“She’s going to come back. Tonight.”

Patton practically melted with relief, a smile growing on his lips. “That’s great! We should tell Roman.”

“We can tell him later. It’s barely eight in the morning.”

“Sounds like a gr-eight time to share good news,” Patton argued.

Logan groaned at the pun. “If you want to tell him, you can, but he will likely desire to sleep in longer.”

Patton whined petulantly, but he knew Logan was right. “Fiiine. You win.” He lay back down, his head once again on Logan’s chest. He made a good pillow.

Around nine, Patton finally went to give Roman the good news. He went down the hall and knocked on the guestroom door, waiting until he heard a soft “Come in” from within. He pushed open the door and saw that Roman was on his knees on the floor with his tattered pink backpack, its contents partially unpacked. It looked like he’d been reorganizing.

“Whatcha up to, kiddo?” Patton asked.

Roman looked sheepish. “I’m sorting through my things. If… if Val decides that she still does not wish to have me here, then I plan to be as prepared as possible. I don’t want to overstay my welcome.”

“Oh, Roman, no,” Patton said, dropping to his knees beside the other man. He pulled him in a hug. “You’re not going anywhere! Val called Logan this morning—that’s what I came to tell you—and she’s coming home. She didn’t say anything about you leaving.”

“Oh,” Roman said, a small, surprised sound. “Oh,” he repeated. He sat back on his heels, still with Patton’s arms around him. “So… that means….”

“You’re staying,” Patton reassured him. His eyes were stinging, a pain in his chest. How had he not realized? Roman had probably been so stressed about this. And Patton and Logan had waited over an hour to tell him the good news. “I’m sorry, kiddo,” he said.

“For what?” Roman asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

Patton released him and sat back, across from him. “For making you think you were going to be kicked out. I’m so sorry, Roman. Val called over an hour ago. We thought you would want to sleep in, but it wasn’t right to make you wait… and I’m so sorry that you’ve had all this pressure on you, with your interview and then the dinner last night… It wasn’t right. I’m sorry.”

Roman shook his head. “Pat, it’s not like you were the one who wanted me to leave. You and Logan have been nothing but kind to me… I don’t know why; I sure as hell don’t deserve it. You don’t have to be sorry.”

“Don’t you put yourself down like that,” Patton said seriously, frowning. “Everyone deserves kindness.”

“Not everyone,” Roman said quietly.

Patton sighed, tilting his head to the side. “Every decent person deserves kindness, then,” he amended. “And you, Roman, are a decent person.”

Roman’s eyes might have become rather misty at this point, but Patton pretended not to notice.

…

Roman and Patton were sitting in the living room together, watching Steven Universe. Patton had been very happy to hear that Roman liked it—Logan, apparently, was confused by the show and was always pointing out how the gems and fusions made no sense from a mineralogical standpoint. Patton was quite excited at the prospect of having someone to watch it with, and of catching Roman up on the more recent seasons.

Since Patton no longer had any classes or tests until the commencement of his senior year in the fall, the two of them had all day to devote to their marathon while Logan was at work. They took a break to get lunch together at a cute little restaurant Patton knew downtown, but other than that, it was a pretty uneventful day until Logan got home.

Logan closed the door behind him and set his bag down with a sigh. He came up behind the couch and leaned over, kissing Patton on the cheek. Roman looked away, not wanting to intrude.

“Have you two moved from this couch at all today?” he asked. Roman could hear the amusement in his voice, barely audible, but noticed by both him and Patton.

“We went out for lunch,” Patton said with an air of someone trying to make excuses.

“Patton’s been helping me catch up,” Roman said, trying to explain why they hadn’t been more productive. “I’d only seen season one before.”

Logan didn’t seem upset that they hadn’t been doing anything better with their time, though. He just looked up at the screen for a second, then back down at them both. “Well, I’m glad that you seem to have enjoyed your day.”

“You could always join us,” Patton offered, which Roman thought was generous given his description of Logan’s dismissal of the show. Boyfriend privileges, he supposed.

“No, I’m going to clean up a bit before Val gets here. She’ll be arriving at five.”

“Need any help?” Roman offered.

“No, no,” Logan assured. “It’s just some light dusting. I have it handled.”

“Just let us know if you change your mind,” Patton said.

While Logan went off and dusted furniture that Roman was sure had already been spotless, he and Patton continued watching Steven Universe.

Valerie arrived five minutes earlier than Logan had expected. Patton hopped up to answer the door since Logan was still upstairs. He insisted on carrying her bag to her room for her. Roman, still sitting in the living room, looked over as they walked past. Valerie glanced in his direction and gave him a small nod before she and Patton disappeared up the stairs.

Roman shifted, turning back towards the television but not quite paying attention to it. He was glad that Valerie had returned. He knew things would still be awkward for a while, but he was sure that they would get better with time. He just had to be willing to wait.

…

The next day, Roman was sitting at the desk in the main room, slowly swiveling his chair from the left to the right as he focused on the computer monitor. It was around two in the afternoon. Logan and Patton were upstairs at the moment, both having the day off, and Val was at work. Roman himself was scrolling distractedly through job listings. Nothing really jumped out at him. A lot of the positions had requirements he didn’t fit, were located too far away, or simply sounded too unappealing even for him. It was frustrating. Every day that passed seemed to add more pressure on him to start looking into the jobs he was avoiding, the minimum wage, menial tasks that no one really wanted to do, so that he could finally have something to try to pay his hosts back with. After a while, getting nowhere, he decided to take a break from the job listings and check his email. He didn’t actually expect to find any new messages waiting for him: the email address was brand new, created for his job search; and he had already checked it earlier in the day. However, when he refreshed the page, one new message came up. It had been sent only ten minutes before. Roman clicked on it and quickly scanned it over. His jaw fell open.

“Logan! Patton!” he cried, shooting out of his chair, suddenly unable to contain himself. He heard a thud from upstairs, and then Patton and Logan both coming down the staircase.

“What on Earth is it?” Logan asked as he reached the landing. He still had one earbud in, the other dangling over his chest. He was holding the jack in one hand, apparently having simply unplugged them for the sake of speed. He looked bewildered and—oops—slightly alarmed. Patton, coming down the stairs slightly more calmly, stopped at his boyfriend’s side. He was bouncing on his heels like he already knew what Roman was about to say.

Roman’s grin widened, and he spread his arms dramatically. “I got the job!”

...

Tag list: @patton-loves-coloring @starryfirefliesbloggo @purplesoul-at-hogwarts @gaylotusthatexists @quoth-the-sparrow @awesomelissawho @amuthefunperson @faithfreedom @heck-im-lost @gayfandomsaremything @nerd-in-space @lunacatzuniverse @sanderstalker @inan-sanders @why-should-i-tell-youu2 @bunny222

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #roman sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #logicality #sanders sides fan fiction #fanfiction #second chances fic

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writing-in-the-impala · 6 years

Text

St Louis: Part 1

Pairing: Rob Benedict x Reader

Series Summary: A lake house, a high school reunion and a fake girlfriend with a real crush, what could go wrong?

Warnings: Fuff, angst, just a emotional rollercoaster.

Word Count: 4k

A/N: This will either be a short mini series (10k words/ 2 parts) or if you guys like this I’ll make this longer. I know this is aa ‘fake girlfriend” trope that is done all the time but I love to mess around with it.

St Louis Masterlist

You were packing your bag to go to a holiday lake house in St Louis, Missouri. You were flying out there to go see your friends and spend a week with them there while, Rob whose house it was went to his high-school reunion. You were on the phone to Rob while packing getting some last details.

"So the address is 32 Ladue Mdws, SAINT LOUIS, MO 63141." Rob said leaving time for you to write it down. "Got it?"

"Yep." You confirmed.

"Okay so when you, Kim and Briana arrive me Rich and probably Osric will already be here, the house has five bedrooms."

"Wow." You said.

"I know it's amazing, anyway there isn't a pool but it's a lake house so there's a lake, hm what else," Rob thought.

"What's the sleeping arrangements?" You asked.

"So I'm sleeping in one of the rooms alone and Rich is sleeping in a room alone, Kim and Bri have a double room, Osric is sleeping in a room with Matt and your sleeping in a room with your friend umm.."

"What you can't remember my best friends name because she isn't in Supernatural? Does that mean you forget who I am?" You teased Rob.

"hmm what your name again?" Rob asked playfully.

"I'm gonna get to Missouri and I'm gonna slap you." You said.

"Wait, wait I remember who you are, your Y/N Y/L/N , you've been my best friend for what like three years now? You have a tendency of hitting my shoulder whenever I say anything to offend you, when you wake up every morning if you don't listen to music you have a terrible day, you love supernatural conventions, you started watching Supernatural because you wanted to understand what's going on at the convention s and then you got obssesed, your-"

"Okay, okay Robbie you proved it you know me, wow you could write my autolbiography-"

"Well biography auto means that you-" Rob began correcting you.

"Anyway I need to pick up Charlie, yes that's her name," you said changing the topic.

"I- I know her name, I just forgot it, we hang out with her a lot, I mean it was my and Rich's idea to invite her along too." Rob interjected.

"I know, I know, any way I really have to go I need to go pick Charlie up and then meet Kim and Bri at the airport and then we're all coming to your house for a major sleepover."

"Okay talk to you soon, have a safe flight."

"Thanks, talk to you soon." You say hanging up.

The four of you arrived at the lake house around 1 am, you were meant to arrive earlier but your flight was delayed. A tired Rob opened the door, your eyes drifted over his whole body and you internally kicked yourself for it , over the past year it's been a habit to check Rob out but you couldn't let yourself, he was your best friend you weren't allowed to have a crush on him, of course no one but Charlie knew about those feelings so thank god you kept it secret.

"Hi girls, come on in." He said in a groggy voice. "Any drinks, food?"

"Rob it's 1 am we all just want sleep." Kim said walking in first.

"R-right I'll take you all upstairs to your rooms I'll show you around tomorrow." And then Rob took you to your rooms, before going back to sleep.

The next morning you woke up quite early, you went downstairs looking for the kitchen, still in your pyjamas which were booty shorts and a vest, you found the kitchen easily and then took out your phone and played some music on shuffle quietly while you made some coffee. You turned around to find Rob was standing in the door way.

"Morning." You said with a smile.

"Good morning." He replied. "How come you're up so early?"

"I slept on the plane and at the airport so I wasn't actually tried."

"Ah okay, I wish I could sleep on planes but with Rich it's hard to."

"You guys really are a old married couple." You stated picking up the coffee that finished brewing. "Coffee?"

"Please." Rob said, he was also wearing his pyjamas matching top and trousers.

"You look like such a dad." You said handing him his cup of coffee and sitting down at the breakfast bar opposite him.

"How so?"

"You sleep in a matching shirt and pants."

"Well if I'm a dad I'd tell you to put more clothes on because otherwise Rich will perv on you." He said and quickly you thought did Rob check you out? "L- Like I- we both know Rich is the type of guy to perv on someone so like beware." He said and you thought of course Rob didn't check you out how stupid are you he's just looking out for you.

"Yeah but it gives me a self esteem boost." You said and both of you laughed.

"Hungry?" Rob asked hearing your stomach make noises.

"Very much so, I haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

"Wow let's eat breakfast then." Rob said standing up. "What would you like?" He asked.

"What do you have?"

"Umm.." Rob thought looking in the fridge. "Nothing, I guess someone needs to buy groceries." Rob said returning to his seat.

"Damn, if you want I can go I just need to shower first." You suggested Rob thought for a bit.

"That would be great we can go together, I'll need to shower and stuff too so why don't you finish your coffee I'll go get ready and then you can get ready ect."

"Sounds good." You said and Rob went to get ready. By the time both of you were ready some people were already downstairs looking for something to eat.

"Okay Y/N and I are going to buy food any request?" Rob asked Kim , Briana and Osric.

"Beer," Briana said.

"Alcohol," Kim added.

"Food." Osric added.

"Okay, bye guys." Rob said. You guys took the rented car - that you all chipped in for to have a car this week - and went to the closest large grocery store, the car ride was mostly comfortable silence you and Rob listening to the radio. It was nice because you both have a similar music taste so there was never fights over what to listen to. When you got to the store you walked around picking up different food items, you were at the meat section and Rob was picking stuff out, you picked up the bacon and put it back in the freezer. "Wait why?" Rob said slightly offended.

"Follow me." You said and he did so you walked over to the fruit section, you picked up a melon and walked over to Rob who was watching you while leaning on the trolley. "Smell this." You said holding it up to his nose and he gave you a "mmm" while smiling.

"Now can I have the bacon ?" He asked with an adorable look on his face.

"Nope," you said putting the melon in the trolley. "Because bacon is bad for your heart." You said poking his chest. "And plant based diets have been proven to help unclog your arteries and help prevent , heart disease, cancer and diabetes while bacon causes Cancer, meat causes diabetes ect and I'm not letting you have another stroke Mr, so instead of bacon for the next week you're eating healthy breakfasts." You said proud of yourself that you are taking care of Rob.

"Thanks for looking out for me, what would I do without you?" Rob said sounding suspiciously sarcastic.

"Be bored out of your mind." You said turning around to pick some other fruit up as Rob laughed. Then all of a sudden Rob felt somebody poke his back. "Robert! Fancy seeing you here." The tall man greeted him.

"Jeremy? Oh my god it's been forever, how are you man?" Rob said to his old high school buddy giving him a hug.

"I've been good, are you coming to the reunion?" Jeremy asked Rob.

"Yeah, actually it's the reason I'm back in town." Rob explains you shyly walked back to him and put the fruit in the trolley. "We're just here for some groceries, Y/N this is Jeremy a old buddy of mine." Rob said to you.

"Nice to meet you." You said shyly shaking the mans hand and then standing next to Rob or more like hiding behind Rob because meeting new people is all kinds of anxiety.

"Likewise, I've gotta say you two are cute together, I saw you two earlier with the melon and the first thing my wife Susan said was aw they're cute and then I realised it was you Rob." Jeremy explained and you smiled shyly waiting for Rob to explain you guys aren't together but instead Rob put a arm around your waist pulling you closer to him and said "Thanks, she's been trying to make me eat healthy, I'd die without her." Rob said with a chuckle looking at you with his signature grin and you laughed shyly. Jeremy said his goodbye's and you and Rob finished off shopping not talking about the incident, later in the car after spending $350 on only a week groceries you were in a comfortable silence when Rob spoke up. "Y/N..." He started unsure.

"hm?" You replied.

"I- I I have a question... Actually a favour to ask .... Well most people from my high school got married, and have kids or are engaged or something while me , nothing, can you come to the reunion with me and pretend to be my girlfriend?" Rob asked you looking at you for a second before returning his attention to driving.

"eh Rob, you are a successful actor and musician, everyone will be jelous of you already, but umm sure I'll be your fake girlfriend." You said wishing the word fake wasn't part of that sentence. You looked over at him and he was smiling as he said. "Thank you."

---

The next day you woke up early however this time Charlie was awake too, you promised her last night to explain what happened with Rob but you didn't have any alone time until now.

"Morning." You said turning towards her.

"Hey, okay tell me." She said.

"What?"

"The Rob thing."

"Right, okay so: we were buying food and this guy from his highschool came up to him and said that we were a cute couple." You said sitting up.

"Right is that it? I waited for hours for that?"

"No, Rob like didn't deny we are a couple and then in the car he asked if I will be his fake girlfriend for the reunion." You said.

"Oh no." Charlie said fully aware how this will affect your feelings.

"So I said yes." You said not making eye contact with her.

"No, no, no this will destroy you."

"I know." You said looking at the floor.

"Why are you doing this to yourself? You're just hurting yourself pretending that you guys are together when you're not." She whisper shouted at you.

"I know, I know, but this is the closest I will ever get to being with him, and maybe being his fake girlfriend will be awful which will destroy my crush meaning that only good comes out of this bad situation." You tried to reason.

"No." Charlie said. "You know you're just lying to yourself."

"What am I meant to say Charlie? There's nothing I can do, he doesn't like me, I wish he did, but he doesn't, he gave me the opportunity to date him for one afternoon of course I'm gonna take it." You explained standing up and picking up clothes to go take a showing change into them.

"Your just being pathetic." Charlie said.

"Conversation over." You said walking out the room.

"You're pathetic Y/N grow a pair." Charlie shouted behind you.

"Yeah love you too." You shouted back not realising that both Rob and Osric were standing hearing the shouting since you left the room.

After you took a shower you put on some shorts, a T-shirt and a checkered shirt on over the T-shirt. The shirt used to belong to Rob months ago but when you once mentioned "this outfit would look good with a checkered shirt." He gave you his and told you to keep it to make that outfit look better, you wore it with loads of outfits because it looked good.

You walked downstairs to the open plan kitchen and living room where you saw Osric, Charlie, Rob and Rich sitting around the whole area. When you walked in Charlie got up from her seat at the breakfast bar that was opposite Osric and made a B- line for you.

"What do you think you're doing?" She whisper shouted at you leading you back to the hallway away from everyone.

"Getting some coffee and breakfast." You said in a normal voice.

"You know what I mean." She said whisper shouting still.

"No I don't Charlie." You said slightly pissed off.

"You're fucking wearing his shirt, it's like you're trying to hurt yourself." She whispered less aggressively showing you that she just cares for you.

"So? It's my life Charlie! So stay out of it." You shouted too loud.

"Y/N I'm just trying to look out for you seeing that you're behaving like a fucking child." Charlie said matching your volume now you were sure everyone could hear.

"You know what I'm done!" You said harshly turning around and going to put your shoes on.

"Y/N-" Charlie tried to reason with you.

"No, I'm done all I wanted to do is drink some coffee and you're harassing me about this since I woke up." You said tying your shoes.

"I'm not harassing you I'm trying to be a voice of reason because you are behaving recklessly!"

"Sure whatever." You said standing up and walking out the door.

You walked sulking to yourself, you didn't know anyone here it was okay they could see you crying. You walked for about twenty minutes before walking into a park, it had the usual stuff, swings, a slide, a sand pit and a climbing frame however if you walked on a bit there was a skate park. You decided to sit on the top of the half pipe. You took a little run up to not fall trying to sit at the top. You sat there, legs hanging off the edge as you lay back starring at the sky.

Only minutes past, you're eyes blood shot with tears, you hated yourself for liking Rob it made everything so much harder, you were shocked when you heard a little sprint, you sat up to see Rob slip trying to get to the top of the half pipe, he got himself up as you giggled slightly and finally successfully got up and sat next to you not saying a thing.

The two of you looked into each others eyes, Rob looked slightly out of breath, but neither of you said a thing, you shut your eyes tight not allowing yourself to cry anymore, your biggest crush is sitting in front of you and you can't kiss him, hug him do anything because you're friends and the worst thing ever would be to loose this friendship.

Surprising you Rob put his arms around you pulling you in, your head being buried on his chest as he held you tight and placed his chin on your head, you felt safe for a second before remembering this is just a friendly gesture because you were sad. Rob still didn't say anything he just held you as you cried a bit into his chest, when he realised your crying again he said "shhh, you're okay." In the most calm and gentle tone, following it up with "shh, shhh everything will be okay, just please stop crying baby." Your heart paused "baby?". Rob's heart also pause as he thought "shit, shit" he wanted to call you his, he wanted to be affectionate with you but he knew you're never going to be more than his best friend, after all he is nearly double your age, he isn't the most attractive guy and you even hesitated on being his fake girlfriend. He carried on shushing you and telling you it'll be okay until you finally stopped crying but stayed in that one position.

"Rob?" You quietly asked.

"hm?" He chimed.

"How did you find me?" You asked.

"Well I knew you like to go to parks and sit on the swings so I sprinted to the closest park I knew of, and you weren't on the swing so I decided to walk around the park and I noticed you here." He explained.

"Thank you." You simply said hugging him tighter, before letting go and pulling away. "I'm sorry I soaked your shirt." You said looking at his chest that was stained with your tears.

"It's okay." He said giving you a gentle smile. "Are you okay?" He asked as you two sat next to each other looking down at your feet that were hanging over the edge.

"I'm better than I was."

"What happened?" Rob asked.

"Well, Charlie said something I did was reckless, it was but I wanted to do it, so she tried to protect me but I'm dumb and I ruin everything and ugh I just, I messed up, my head's messed up, it's all a mess." You explained best you could.

"Well I think you're a cute mess, come on I know something we can buy to make today awesome, instead of miserable." He said casually.

You and Rob went to a shop that was nearby and bought loads of pool floaties, you carried them all back home and as soon as you got back you started to blow them all up.

"What's going on?" Osric asked walking into the living room.

"We're blowing up loads of floaties." Rob casually replied.

"Mhm, we can see that Robo the question is why." Rich chimed in.

"For the lake." You answered.

"We're all going to go out on the lake and just have fun." Rob added.

-- When you got changed into your red bikini and got outside most people were already there. Rob, Matt and Osric were all in the lake while Charlie, Rich and Briana were on the side, Charlie reading a book, Briana and Rich sunbathing.

When Rich noticed you walk outside he whistled. "Y/N you look amazing, red is your colour, doesn't she look smoking Robbie?" He shouted.

"Y-yeah she looks great, come on in the waters warm." Rob shorted from a float.

You were happy they couldn't see your face clearly as it was burning a bright red that matched your swimming costume. The water was in fact warm. When you got in the water it was feel so you decided to swim towards Rob's float and flip him. You approached slowly as he was relaxing now looking up at the sky, when you were close you were ready to flip him but Rob was clever and knew your plan all along so he was able to splash your face with water. That made you retaliate, you decided you'd jump and attack him off of his float, it lead to him falling in the water pulling you under with him, when you both swam up you jumped on the float at the same time as he did, leading to Rob lying on top of you faces inches apart. The two of you froze.

"Now this, this is comfortable." Rob said making you giggle.

"Get off of me you're heavy." You complained while you giggled.

"Oh so you'd prefer to be top, huh?" Rob said suggestively ending by chuckling.

"Ye- uh, no, fuck." You said laughing along with Rob.

"Now I'm intrigued what the answer is." Rob said still laughing.

"No answer." You simply replied.

"Only one way to find out eh? Let's take this to the bedroom." Rob chuckles winking at you and you laughed thinking that this was too much for you . You pushed him off playfully, into the water before submerging yourself in to, when he swam up he saw you swimming to the edge of the lake. You got out the water picked up a towel and went inside without a word. Charlie was watching this interaction and decided to stand up and follow you inside.

She found you on the bedroom floor crying. "Y/N, it's okay, please don't cry." She said wrapping her arms around you.

"No, you don't get it I can't do this it hurts too much." You whispered.

"I know, I know that's why I wanted to stop you earlier, that's why I said this whole trip was a bad idea." She was still comforting you.

"Thanks... I just," you said moving to sit normally without her hugging you as you drapped the towel over your own shoulders so it could supply some warmth. "The best I've ever had is just a daydream of my dreams, but I want more, but I can't have it , and I don't know how I cope with this." You explained.

"Tell him, maybe, see if it's mutual and if it's not you'll know that it won't work removing that little bit of hope."

"No, I don't want to, I like that hope, but I don't like my feelings."

"Just ignore it? I don't know pretend it's all fake feelings." Charlie suggested and you wiped the tears out of your eyes.

"I'll try." You sat there thinking, in silence just looking at the floor as Charlie looked at you when there was a faint knock on the door. Both of your heads snapped and Charlie stood up to check who it is. "Oh hi Rob." She said opening the door and you looked at him instead of the floor, he was still in just his swimming trunks.

"I'm sorry am I interrupting you guys?" He asked

"Oh, I was just leaving." Charlie said walking out the room. No one said anything for a moment and then Rob sat down opposite you.

"Hi." He said with a small smile.

"Hi." You replied with a shy smile.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah." You answered unsurely.

"Are you sure , this is the second time you walked away I'm starting to worry."

"Don't it's just me being stupid."

"Did I- I upset you somehow because-" You could see how genuinely worried he was that he might've upset you and it made you fall even more.

"No, Rob you didn't do anything wrong."

"You sure?"

"Positive." Rob stayed some time changing subject as you two sat and talked until Osric came looking for Rob because Rich broke something downstairs.

"You coming down or staying upstairs?" He asked from the doorway.

"Well I need to get dressed so I'm not walking around in a bikini and then I might come down."

"I like your current attire." He said chuckling and sending you a wink.

"Rob!" You shouted throwing a pillow at him. "You pervert." He laughed raising his arms in a surrender before walking out. You got changed and then sat down on your bed breathing out deeply only five days left.

Part 2 | More Rob

TAGS (let me know if you want to be added or removed): @waywardswain @supernatural-everyday @winchestergirl-13 @livingthelifeofafangirleverday @natasha-cole @girl-next-door-writes @itsfunnierin-enochian @rblstrash @shanghai88

#rob benedict #rob benedict rpf #rob benedict x reader #series #st louis

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namjoonchronicles · 6 years

Text

habits of my heart | nj

➤ summary: are you prepared for the hurt, love could bring? Because no one promised a happy ending.

“Two scoops of chocolate mint. In separate cones, please.”

You made sure that you stressed the word ‘please’ because the last time you ordered, they inconveniently put two scoops of ice cream of that weeks’ flavor into the same cone, and took turns with Namjoon to eat them, earning some unwanted glances from the crowd passing by. You walked back to the street lamp Namjoon was standing by, with two ice cream cones and saw him piercing his eyes on his phone, bringing it up to his eye height and typing with one hand.

“What bullshit did she do, this time.” You rolled your eyes back and halted in your step a bit. Namjoon was wearing his Bape, shark themed jacket that costs about 338 USD—a gift from his girlfriend when she went for a holiday with her distant family. He obviously looks like he is dissecting the message he himself sent to her, and you’re guessing, she had gone AWOL again.

“Your icecream.” You lulled and gave them to him. Namjoon, being thoughtless, as always, grazed his palm over yours, making you all flustered in the inside, unable to function in a blink of an eye from that gesture—not that he noticed any of it. “Thank you.” He sang, turning his attention to the phone again. “Did you find her?” You nonchalantly asked, hoisting yourself on the wall, brisking your eyes to the view, to cover the hurt in your heart. He looks like his lost something precious. And it was beyond you, how much that bitc—girl meant to Namjoon. After all the shits she’s done.

“She’s probably out with a friend and not tell me. Maybe she forgot.” Namjoon tries to uplift his own spirit knowing well that you won’t. Whenever it comes to this girl, you get so rigid and uptight, you don’t even smile. Almost all the time when the talk comes to be about her, you would always dash it off. “...I’m worrying a lot, as always.” He added and had no intentions to further explain what it is about her that makes Namjoon a worrywart.

You nodded needlessly towards that comment and is heavily endorsed in that ice cream to talk about that ignorant girl. To be honest, when Namjoon first talked about her, you already despised her.

You remember that fateful day, quite well. Too well, infact. Namjoon was smiling so wide, the sun looked dim that day.

He and his lanky builts, bends over and pushed his back to the handrails, elbows rested on each side in a very laid-back manner he’s known to have whenever he is in a good mood. “Shall we go on a train trip this weekend?” He asked. “I have this girl...and I asked her out today, and she said yes.” He didn’t wait for what you had to say and just begin to ramble about her.

You asked for a picture and instantly, “I don’t like her,” blurted out your mouth. And Namjoon scoffs, “You’ve never even met her.”

“Don’t have to.” “Is this the psychic part of you, talking?” “Mock me all you want, but my intuitions has never been wrong.” “Maybe that psychic part of you can predict what question is going to come out on the essay section, because honestly, it’s driving me crazy to even think about it.”

You looked at him, ridiculed. “What do you mean, driving you crazy? In what sense of an A plus student, a sentence extraordinaire to find an essay section as ‘crazy’? When will it daunt to you that I cannot be lied to?”

Namjoon giggled like a baby, watching you through a crinkled eyes, “Seeing you worked up, brings me joy. Appease me.”

You rolled your eyes again.

What is it about this girl that makes Namjoon fall head over heels?

“I don’t know. It’s just. Probably her hair. She had this regal feel to her? Mad body. Her fashion sense is just wow. And that converse high...” Namjoon whistles, “Its not good for my heart.” Where in that sentence sounds appealing to you? Namjoon obviously fell for what his eyes sees again. If you could just write down how many times Namjoon got hurt because of the things she says and what she didn’t say, you could write a book. With three volumes, maybe four? There’s this one time, Namjoon bought her a teddy bear and she said it was tacky.

Or that one incident when Namjoon wanted to go to an amusement park, waited and went home alone because she didn’t show up. When enquired why she did so, she told you that she didn’t want to go to an amusement park and she lied to Namjoon and said, she simply forgot. The nerve that girls had. Namjoon once had rode a bus to go to a movie she chose and she deliberately changed route and blamed him for not having a driver’s license. There’s numerous time that Namjoon came to your apartment because she did something out of context. And there’s even more time, that he came, wanting to be drunk so he could forget what he sees.

“Sometimes I feel like...we’re in a business relationship. She’s she and I’m, me.” He hung his head back to your couch, the liqours finally tipping his head, not as much but just enough to make him spill his inner thoughts on you. Like always. Namjoon needs to learn how to separate between ‘wants’ and ‘needs’. Namjoon is immensely loyal to someone who clearly had no idea what’s the meaning behind the word. Sometimes, he just comes over to cry. He’ll make all sort of excuse to come over.

“I had flu. You have flu medicines?” “I have a headache. The boys’ are playing too loud.” “I can’t sleep. She hadn’t text me. I say some stupid shits again.” “I just want to be here.”

Namjoon would make a bed out of your couch. Once, you try to make a freezer out of your own home so he would leave, but he started shivering as he sleeps, so you had a blanket over him because seeing him like that, aches you. You also tried to move apartment, but as if the universe had something against that, you can never find an apartment good enough to live in. If he keeps coming here, people are going to think you’re a slut for having a guy in a relationship stay overnight, all the time.

But what can you do? Like he said, he had nowhere else to go.

Maybe you needed him as much as he needed you. In a platonic way.

Namjoon catches you climbing on top of a shaky stool trying to obtain something from the top shelf of your laundry room. “Okay! Okay! What is it you’re trying to reach? What do you want, let me get it for you...” he was obviously flustered. “That detergent. That one on the left.” You blinked at him. He hands you it with almost no effort in reaching out for them. “Here. Can you stop worrying me? I’m buying a new stool, that one is so shaky, don’t ever get on it, again. I’m confiscating this,” he folded the chair and really took it with him, home. You come home from class to see a new, more stable tool on your doorstep with a piece of paper. When you took a closer look, it was actually a receipt, heavily scribbled with a thin ink on the price, and was written, “Total price: An ice cream.”

You tried to pick a fight with him. Push all his buttons, yelled at him, make him angry, ignore him, only to say sorry afterwards because you don’t have the heart to. He was patient with you. And it was hard not to be soft at that. How can you, when he brings you food when you screamed at him. “I thought you might be hungry, so that’s why I came with food. Also, I bought you coffee. You probably hadn’t had one, that why you go all bitchy on me.” He rustles with one bag strap on one shoulder, leaning over to the counter before rushing to his next advanced calculus class. He left the convenient store and you watch him through glass window, giving you two thumbs up while skipping backwards, hitting someone in the process. “Don’t make me love you, damn it. I’m trying to hate you.” You murmured as he lunges his feet across the fountain.

“Excuse me. Is this seat taken?” You turned around to see the owner of that sultry voice and saw her. Her silky hair, falls effortlessly over her shoulder, flourishing immense essence of feminine goodness, she would have easily passed as a goddess with that carefully propotioned body. Her eyes, lips and nose looked like it was drawn to perfection. She was a typical boner magnet and Namjoon was a lucky guy to have end up getting her attention. But in your defense, she was lucky to even get Namjoon’s attention. “Hi...!” You perk up in false excitement, high pitched voice, that exudes your purposeful lips to say another competent lie, “...how nice to see you here! Don’t you have class today?” The sentence could go two ways, not that her dense bird brain could ever pick up on it.

“I’m done for the day, I was just wondering if you’ve seen my boyfriend.” You may have heard the words, but you can’t ignore the poison in her voice when stressed the words ‘boyfriend’ in your wake. “Why would I know where your boyfriend is...?” You spat, hands flying around, before lacing together, “...he is wherever he wants to be. Of course. You really shouldn’t worry about him. He is very loyal...maybe you could learn a thing or two, from him.” You said and eyed the guy behind her, choosing a shaver, “Hey junior.” You waved once at the guy. You think his name was Jeon Jungkook.

“You have a thing for Virgos, don’t you?” You scrunched your nose at her and smiled, cheekily. She returned the same expression with a tilt of her head, “At least it’s better than lurking around things that are not yours. I’m being a good senior to him. Maybe if you join a mentor-mentee programme, you’ll see how it is for real, but oh!” She gasped, pretending to be shocked, “...you’re not smart enough for that. Poor thing.” You twisted your lips into a purse and smiled again, with a little shake of your head.

“You may have all these boys dicks with your pretty little pussy, but you know I see right through your fake tits and perverted brain. I wish the words that leave your mouth are as pretty as you, but that seems a little too far-fetched,” you blinked repeatedly. “At least I’m getting dicks. You could use one, just give me a call.” She flipped her hair back and you caught her flawless neck. You dropped your gaze to your lap and stared at your knuckles for a minute before tipping your eyes at her again. “Wow.”

“That’s a great clapback isn’t it?” She passed. “All you ever seem to care about is dicks. Calm down, bitch. I’m not going to threaten you by telling Namjoon, because I know you don’t care about that shit. You don’t care about anything. I’m just whisking away what I just saw and I realise that talking to me had you perspirating that your neck make-up is starting to melt away...” you shake your crossed legs away. “How can you be so shitty at that when its the only thing that’s keeping Namjoon around. Here, my bb cream. It covers tattoos well. That hickey won’t show.” You handed her a tube. “Why I would have this?” You asked her and returned an answer, “...different people, different scars. You don’t know anything about me. No one does. You know the only thing that’s keeping you with Namjoon is the fact that he’s happy when he’s with you, right?”

“Good girls never win, do they?”

You remained seated and ate calmly until she leaves with Jungkook. She was obviously sleeping with the poor kid. She changes guys like she changes clothes. That trip to US? She went with Hoseok from Finance. She had the audacity to buy a cloth for Namjoon when she’s out there cheating on him in the open. Probably used Hoseok’s money too.

When will it grow on you that Namjoon is only seeing you as comfort? When will you see that the only reason he was with her was because she fits his ideal type? When will you pack your feelings and go?

It’s not like you haven’t tried. You try to make plans. Plans without him. Be busy on your own, take classes without telling him, go on adventurous solo trips, only to have 15 missed calls and 27 texts when you come home. Sometimes he sits by your door sill, waiting. So, one day, he stood by the stairs to your apartment and saw you got out of a car, foreign to him. He had never seen it before. This guy was tall, not very tall, but was suited up in his white dress shirt, and black slacks. Painfully friendly to you.

Of course you had the car door open because he even got to your side to do the gentlemen-like gesture. “I was going to get it for you.” He chirped from afar and you giggled elegantly. And it sounded so odd from Namjoon’s point of view because he had never heard of that giggle coming out from you. He narrowed his eyes at the guy who had a stunning smile, as he walks you to the apartment entrance, leaving his car behind, running.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” He asked. And you, were polite as always, “...oh yes. Please! Don’t leave your car running. It’s a...dangerous neighborhood.” He rushed back to his car and shut the engine, lock them while jogging back to where you are. As he was tendering his car you caught Namjoon by the last stair, sitting and gasped out loud. “...what are you doing here?” You muttered through gritted teeth, hissing and flaring eyes.

“What are you doing.” He grumbled back just as loud.

“Pretend we don’t know each other. I’m going to walk past you.” “No. Who is he? What is he doing here?” “My new apartment dealer, he sends me home.” You hissed, “Why are you talking to me, I don’t know you—“ “—Don’t tell me what to do.” “Namjoo—hey!” You exclaimed at the guy, “Yes, I’m just going to. Nice talking to you...person,” you eyed Namjoon, “Good day.” Namjoon widens his eyes on you and you grabbed the guys’ hand and directs him up. He was clearly not knowing why he is being manhandled this way, but he goes with it.

“Would you like tea, coffee, unhealthy drinks?” “Unhealthy drinks, sounds good.”

A bagpack was thrown over the balcony at one try. Namjoon hops to grab the rails and with his incredible height, he latches without a problem. He throws one leg over the hand rails and climbed on, kicking an old beer can to the glass window by accident. “Sodas...” he heard you say from inside. “—what was that? Something is outside your balcony it seems.” The guy passed.

“Really?” You walked over the glass door and revealed a bit of the curtain to see what, or who it was. Namjoon sat, leaning against the rails, waving at you with a smug smile. “How did you get there?” You mouthed. Namjoon described the action with his fingers-jumping across. “I’m calling the cops.” You replied.

Namjoon stuck his tongue out at you and you roughly keeps the shade closed. “Just a... cat.” You shrugged.

After Seokjin, the apartment dealer left, you confronted Namjoon, letting him in through the glass door and opened the shades to let the sun in. “I can’t believe you just did that.” You grumbled low, vacuuming your living room. “I can’t believe YOU let a guy in your apartment.” He darted and you turned to him with a look that would have killed if he wasn’t strong enough to know that stares cannot murder.

“I’m a single girl Namjoon, I can let whoever I want in. Besides, I’m moving and he already knows where I live next, so he doesn’t have to come over here anymore.” Namjoon looks up at you with puppy dog eyes, whispering, “You’re moving...?”

Oh no. You blurted them out and now, he knows.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Fuck. Why did you have to slip up this way? Namjoon wasn’t suppose to know. You were going to do this behind him.

“I’m going out.” You said, thinking that it would divert his attention but Namjoon stayed close to you even as you walk. Tailing you like a lost puppy. “I don’t have to tell you things Namjoon,” you spat, dryly. “I don’t want to tell you initially...”

“Why not?” He mumbled. “Because you don’t have to know?” You spun around and returned to your track. “Please don’t pout like that.” You told him and speed away on your feet. “Buy me an ice-cream.”

You munch on your cone without another word, the after taste of chocolate mint ice cream still linger on your tongue. “What if I tell you, I don’t want you to move.” Namjoon was still licking his ice cream, like a child. “I don’t care.” You spat. “I don’t care about what you want.” You added. Namjoon swallowed the whole dollop of ice cream in one mouthful. He is going to get brain freeze from that. Maybe brain freeze is what he needed now.

“Don’t move.” “I will.” “Tell me where it is.” “Why? So you could come and go as you please?”

Namjoon dropped his head down and let out a low chuckle. Breath-takingly beautiful view. His white pearl lines of teethc paired with his hearty low gritty voice and dimples dipping in the most stunning way. Simply captivating.

I want to kiss you right now. You thought.

But you blinked, and the thought flew off as quickly as it came. “Sorry.” You returned to your docile self. “I just wanted to be away from you.” You sighed. Thoughts rushed into your brain, on how much you wanted to take care of him when he’s broken, how you enjoyed being needed, how he appeases your soul with mere presence, his electric accidental touches and wondrous mind—Namjoon was literally everything to you, the centre of your universe, your moon and constellations, the atlas of your heart, the home and planet of your soul.

The one for you—as your heart rebels against your logic. Pieces of you was in him, you were more than certain, only if he paid closer attention. “You don’t understand.” You began. Namjoon turns to you in a glance. “Enlighten me what I don’t understand,” he spat, clamping his teeth between his lower lips to contain all the bubbling anger he bores in him as he forces himself to listen and surpress his emotions, disciplined himself into professional mode.

“It hurts. Being with you, it hurts. It hurts to see someone you love, love someone else.”

Frustrations filled your spill of intonations as your nails rake into your skulls while you spoke through your soul at him.

“I can’t move on from you...because I am so... So incredibly filled with you that it frustrates me how much I am incapable of losing whatever it is that we have. I’m tired. I’m tired of feeling this way. I’m tired of feeling helpless towards all the things that is you, and I hate it, I hate the fact that I can never-ever be more than this. I get it okay? I get it that I’m just me. I’ll never be your type and that’s fine. I am never anyone’s type. I’m the one They made to be just, this.”

You breathed in shakily, feeling the prick in your eyes, your throats swollen with unsaid words, your fingers clutched to the brim of the brick wall you sat on. “I do everything I can, and I’m never the one. Maybe I was just too kind. Maybe I’m not made to be loved. Maybe I’m just... not made for anybody. Maybe I was born to give and never receive, and if that’s that the case Namjoon? I’m okay.” You wiped your tears.

“But please let me go.” You sniffed, and crumbled, “Can’t you see that you’re hurting me?” You fisted your knuckle and battered your chest, “It’s very painful, in here. To love what you can’t have.” You stammered.

Just let me, go.

“That’s why. I’m not telling you where I’m going.” The tears subsides. You hated crying in public but the tears came unwanted. But it didn’t stop you from saying what you wanted to say. “I’m going to be happy now. I’m going to leave you and this country behind and I’m going to be happy. I’m going to find somebody, and I’m going to be happy,” you hoisted yourself off of the wall and started walking.

“Goodbye Namjoon.”

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lyricalremedy · 6 years

Text

I Hope Not (Jerome x Reader) Part 4

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

This is it: this is the last part of my ‘short’ story. I won’t be able to post on Tumblr for awhile, so I wanted to give you all the ending. Thanks to all readers for your support! And warning: too much cute.

You’re safe now. Everything’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore.

Y/N’s POV

When I awoke, I found Jerome cuddling me. He would often do that when he had nightmares.

My eyes felt heavy, and when I touched them, the skin had definitely swelled from sobbing before falling asleep. That was probably the worst part about crying myself to sleep.

Jerome looked so peaceful in his sleep. Quite the contrast from the insane smile he wore on the news. He’s changed so much in so little time. Every time I saw him on tv for some heinous crime, I almost couldn’t recognize him. If it hadn’t been for the news anchor repeatedly saying his name I would’ve assumed it was some other ginger psycho. Often, I missed the old Jerome. The sweet and kind Jerome.

Remembering that I had four mouths to feed, I tried escaping Jerome’s clutch. I forgot that he’s a light sleeper.

“Mornin’, doll,” his voice came out as a whisper.

“Good morning, Jerome. I was just about to go make breakfast. Any requests?” As I turned my back to him and slid toward the edge of the bed, he pulled me back to him. His arms stiffened. He didn’t plan to let me leave.

“I have to go.” Each word hit my neck, causing a shiver to run down my spine. I knew he would have to leave eventually. But now, I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye.

I grabbed one of his hands and held it. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

A long silence followed. Neither of us knew what to say. What words could possible convince Gotham to let Jerome and I stay together?

Suddenly, he laughed. “I would kill for some sausages and eggs.”

He always knew how to take the seriousness out of a situation.

“Sausages and eggs, coming right up!” I kissed his hand before crawling out of bed. As I walked out of the room, I could feel his eyes watch my every footstep. It wasn’t because he wanted to see more of me. No, he was trying to remember these moments, in case we never have another.

***

I was actually surprised to find sausages in the freezer.

When I first went out into the kitchen, I found Penguin sleeping on the couch. Those boys must have been tired after being on the run. As soon as the meat starting cooking, though, Penguin’s head popped up from behind the sofa and Jerome came walking in from the hallway.

I finished frying the eggs and asked Jerome to take down some plates, which he hastily did once he found them. The growl from his stomach told me why.

To my surprise, Penguin cleared off the table last night after the… ‘incident’. Granted, the food sat on the counter getting cold, but that could be dealt with later. I was just grateful to have a table to seat my two guests and one daughter at. Speaking of which…

“Have either of you seen Abigail this morning?”

“Who?” Penguin asked.

“Her daughter, idiot,” Jerome replied.

“Well, sorry I don’t care,” Penguin snapped back. “I’ve never liked children.” His expression said otherwise, but I didn’t want to get involved in that.

“Okay, well, I’ll go get her. Jerome, could you please set the table?”

I left before I even let him answer. I needed to have a talk with my daughter.

“Abigail,” I said into her door. I rapped a few times. Still no reply. She was ignoring me, but my house, my rules. I opened the door.

The curtains closed off the natural light. Her bed was already made, a sign that she was, in fact, awake. I entered and immediately walked toward the closet. Light shined from beneath the door. Carefully, I turned the knob.

Abi sat in her ‘safe space’. Pictures of her family and her favorite song lyrics hid the wall’s color. Her books remained untouched on the shelves. Only her blanket had been moved from its folded position on the floor. It now covered Abi’s tiny body, head to toe.

I took a seat next to her. This closet was meant to give her complete solitude. With a capacity of one, I thought she would feel trapped, but she insisted it made her feel in control of her own world. Her world smelled mainly of lemon and lavender. An odd combination, but relaxing nonetheless.

She didn’t stir, but she knew I was near. “Abi,” I whispered. I took her silence as permission to continue. “I’m sorry if my friend scared you. He’s not really that bad.” Stretching the truth in this situation wasn’t the best idea, but as fragile as she is, I couldn’t risk breaking her. “You know, Jerome’s mother wasn’t a very kind woman. In a way, he understands what it’s like to feel alone. But he didn’t know how to handle his situation. Not like you do. I think you could really help him, if you give him a chance.”

“He hurt Seth, didn’t he?” Abi asked.

I had no choice but to say, “Yes. Seth won’t be showing up here anymore.” She gave herself a hug. “I’m not happy about Jerome’s behavior either. But we’ve been friends for years, and I’d hate to lose him now.”

An eye appeared from under the cover. “You can just forgive him like that? Even after hurting someone you love?”

“I know, kid. I don’t believe it either.”

Abigail and I whipped our heads up to see the man in question standing in the doorway. He had his usual smile as he leaned against the frame.

He stared into my eyes then glanced to Abi. “Mind if I join the group session? This one seems much more interesting than the ones at Arkham.”

To my surprise, Abi nodded her head. Jerome walked in, and Abi climbed onto my lap. For a closet for one, it barely occupied two, let alone three. But Jerome didn’t seem to mind the close quarters with my little girl. That, or he just enjoyed being so close to me.

“So you had a mean parent, too?” Abi’s bravery never ceases to amaze me.

“Yeah,” he looked to me for guidance. He wanted to know the limit of this topic. I only nodded for him to continue. “She would stay up late after a show, drinking heavily and… doing other awful things.” I hid a sigh of relief. Glad to see he can handle children. “One of those awful things was beating me. She would boss me around while she enjoyed herself.”

“What about your daddy?” Abi asked. I was never able to connect with her as well as she needed. Maybe Jerome’s visit wasn’t so terrible.

“She lied about who my father was. He had actually been travelling with us in the circus and didn’t tell me the truth until I was 18.” Jerome’s eyes said it all: the pain, the loneliness. Everything he had felt in his life. “But, this story ends happily.” Oh no. I stared at Jerome, but he only smirked at my fear.

Please don’t mention murdering your mother, I tried saying with my glares.

“Your mommy here saved me.” Jerome finished. Abigail turned to look at me, smiling. But I could only stare in awe at Jerome. He also had a wide grin.

I love him. I don’t think there’s any other words to describe what I felt. My heart pounded, suddenly realizing just how close we truly were. Our faces not even a foot away. I wanted to kiss him right there. And he knew it.

Abigail pulled my ear to her mouth. Whispering was still a bit difficult for her at her age, so it was no surprise that Jerome laughed when she ‘whispered’, “Kiss him.”

Shocked by her words, I turned to Jerome. He only shrugged. Of course he approved. I hesitated before leaning toward him. He, on the other, saw the opportunity and went for it at full force. The kiss sent shivers down my spine. Jerome moved his hands to my face and pushed himself closer. One of my hands stayed curled around Abigail, but the other ran its fingers up his shaven head until they reached his hair. His hands moved from my face to the back of neck. I could feel him deepening the kiss further, and as much I wanted to let him dominate the situation, the presence of a minor still sat on my lap.

I gave Jerome a light push. He looked at me with exaggerated disappointment. When I nodded my head toward Abigail, he followed my motion and looked at her. Jerome stuck his tongue out at her, causing a giggle to escape from her. He covered Abi’s eyes and stole one more quick kiss from me. I laughed at his childish ways. This wasn’t exactly what I meant when I wished for a man who could connect with my daughter.

“Well, breakfast is done if either of you are hungry,” Jerome said. He stood up to leave. Abigail wiggled around on my lap in an attempt to get up. Jerome bent down and hoisted her in the air, spinning her in a circle. She may have been laughing, but her head just about hit the door frame.

“Careful, Jerome,” I scolded. He set Abigail back on the floor and grabbed my hands. With an unnecessarily strong pull, he hauled me onto my feet and into his arms. I nodded my head in thanks. “Now, let’s get some food. I’m starving!”

Jerome’s POV

Abigail bolted out of her room toward the kitchen. I still held Y/N. I hadn’t lied about leaving, and now that I’ve gained her daughter’s acceptance, walking out would be much more difficult.

Without young eyes watching us, Y/N complied with my need to hold her. “You know, we could be a family.” Y/N’s words shocked me. I had killed what little family I had. Could I really be part of a family? A life as a convict certainly wouldn’t help.

“I would like that,” I replied. Then, she squeezed my torso in the special hug that I’ve always loved.

The hug that said, You’re safe now. Everything’s okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you anymore.

Penguin’s POV

I looked at the child before me at the table. How long were those two going to leave me with this creature?!

Fin.

#jerome #valeska #jerome valeska #jerome valeska x reader #x reader #reader #Gotham

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lindoig8 · 3 years

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Saturday - Monday, 26-28 June – Car problems

I have already mentioned that we spent time researching our route on from here – and it is still in a state of flux with several more alternatives being mooted during the day. But just how fickle can Fate be?

We had decided to go out to the mining port of Bing Bong and the nearby Gulf of Carpentaria this afternoon and we packed up the car ready to go – and it wouldn’t start. Apparently, a flat battery. But the cranking battery is always isolated from the other two batteries in the car to ensure it never goes flat! We also have a switch to enable the other batteries to be connected to the cranking battery if ever a problem arose – but that had no effect either. I had driven the car in the morning without a problem and an hour or so later, it was simply dead! We rang the Northern Territory Automobile Association (the equivalent of the RACV) and they were very helpful – at least they tried hard. Unfortunately, there is nobody in Borroloola who can assist us until Monday morning so we are stuck here a little longer and our latest plans are out the window yet again. It is no big deal really (Borroloola is a wonderful place to be stuck if you have to be stuck somewhere), but some odd warning lights were on when I tried to start it and the NTAA said it was risky trying to jump-start it until someone had a look at it in case it impacted all the onboard electronics – not a happy thought.

So, with time on our hands, I read for a couple of hours and then went birding for a couple more hours around the local neighbourhood. I didn’t see much, but really enjoyed it and got a few slightly(?) better photos, probably because I took more time. There are 3 Grey-crowned Babblers in the park and they have 2 nests in the tree immediately above our van. Not sure if they are a threesome or what cohabitation arrangements apply, but both nests seem to be in use – all very confusing, not to say potentially incestuous. (Addendum: I have to retract the last sentence and apologise to the Babblers. The following day, there were at least 8 of them, so any imputation of incest was almost certainly groundless.)

Sunday, 27 June

Today, we can’t even open the car. I think there must be a dead short somewhere in the system that has flattened all three of our batteries. Fortunately, I switched the car fridge over to AC power before everything died or we would have a fridge and freezer full of rotting food. Strangely, I can’t even open the car with the key – maybe I am not being rough enough but last time I got rough with the key, it broke and that created a different problem. I will leave it to the NTAA man to figure that one out – keys cost about $1000 each and I really don’t want to have to buy another one – and wait a week or so for it to become available!

We did a bit of stocktaking this morning (EOFY?) but we can’t recall exactly what is in the car fridge so until we can open the car, that remains a work in progress. And until that happens, we can’t complete our shopping list either.

We just stayed around the van all day. It was very relaxing. I finished reading my book and really enjoyed it – all anecdotes about cricket and cricketers and very nostalgic for me because I knew some of the guys mentioned and had clear memories of many of the names and incidents – even back to when I was starting primary school. There was a strange English guy at our church who took me to the WACA for a match when the Poms were out in 1954 here and as a callow 10-year-old, he got me into the English dressing room to meet people like Len Hutton, Brian Statham, Typhoon Tyson, Freddie Trueman, Tony Locke, Trevor Bailey, Peter May and the rest of the touring team and I got autographs from them all. A really big deal for such a young kid! I also got into the Western Australian dressing room, but that was a bit of a rushed visit and I can’t recall a lot – other than chatting with my soon-to-be science teacher at high school – John Rutherford. (John was the first Western Australian player to play a Test Match. He played only one Test (in 1956) before having a stroke and not recovering sufficiently to play again.)

We sat outside the van most of the day because it was cooler there and the birds came and went and sang to us for ages. There would have been upwards of a dozen species that visited the tree under which we sat on and off and it was most entertaining to watch them.

Monday, 28 June

The NTAA representative (from the local garage) arrived first up in the morning and couldn’t get into the car. He had to enlist the help of another of his colleagues and they eventually levered the corner of the driver’s door wide enough to slide a long metal rod in and pull the bonnet release up so they could access the engine compartment – and from then on, it was pretty easy. None of us can fully explain why things happened as they did (and the Toyota mechanic in Mt Isa also struggled!) but the cranking battery was utterly dead. (It was almost 4 years old so we probably can’t complain, but if it had died when we were on the Tanami or similar, we could have been in real trouble.) It could not be charged at all and was apparently in such poor condition that it couldn’t even accept a charge from our other two batteries when they were joined with it. Anyway, they jump-started us and I was able to drive to their garage where a new (bigger, better) battery was installed and extensive testing done to ensure all was in order.

We wanted to give it a bit of a test ourselves before setting off to more remote places so after completing our stocktake and finalising our shopping list, we had an excursion to the supermarket and went on the drive we almost did a few days earlier.

We drove out to Bing Bong where there is not a lot to see due to it being a major industrial plant and loading facility that is securely fenced off. But there is a viewing tower that we climbed from where I spied a couple more birds, including a Black-necked Stork (Jabiru). We then drove out to the mouth of the MacArthur River and identified some more birds en route – bringing our current tally this trip to 149 species.

On the way back to Borroloola, we detoured to the King Ash Fishing Camp – several hundred caravans crammed cheek by jowl all along the edge of the river – even if we were fishermen, we couldn’t think of anything worse. Just getting a boat into the water would be a massive challenge – and of course, fishing from the bank would be risky with all those big bities waiting in the water.

We had seen all of this when we were here 4 years ago, but the number of caravans has probably at least quadrupled in that time and the whole place felt quite gross, with absolutely nothing to do except try to catch a fish.

We just drove through the camping area and out again – it is apparently owned by a private Fishing Club – and straight back to the van – with more streams of fisher-people still heading out to the already over-crowded camp.

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softproko · 6 years

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There's life without exy? (it's more likely than you think)

A Riko-centric fanfic for @poze-laceen for the AFTG winter exchange @aftgexchange Sorry for the delay, I got caught up in this prompt and still could not really finish it. I promise I will add a special cute date next week!

Read on AO3 here or continue reading below. Warnings for: canon typical violence, suicide attempt, mental health issues and original character(s).

Prompt: Au where riko isn’t killed but instead gets kicked out of exy by ichirou and goes to live in the countryside suburbs where he meets a house servant housekeeper ichrou hires who he falls in love with and they go on cute dates

Ichirou had a gun to his head. His own brother, born of the same mother, held a gun and his life in the palm of his hand, and Riko closed his eyes in a mixture of relief and terror.

“No,” Neil -Nathaniel- said, shocking not only Ichirou and the rest of the men in the room, but also Riko.

“No?” the gun still kissed Riko’s temple, and he took a short breath. “You are making demands that I not kill someone who has pulled us all into this mess?”

Neil looked at Riko and nodded, looking into Ichirou’s cold eyes with an equally cold look. “His whole life is exy. Why not take that from him?”

Ichirou laughed and Riko did as well, until Ichirou aimed at Riko’s knee and shot. To Ichirou’s ears, Riko’s laughter and screams sounded the same.

When Riko came to, having passed out from the pain and then from the sedatives and anesthesia, the doctors told him he would never play a sport again. He was lucky, they said, to even keep his leg. It would take therapy to make sure he would be able to walk, or run perhaps, properly.

Ichirou visited Riko only once during his recovery. He sat across from Riko’s bed and stared at him for a couple of minutes before speaking. Riko was to go to therapy – physical and mental – at least once a week. He was to move to a remote place; not too far for Ichirou not to have any control over him, but not too close for him to be under the watchful eye of media and former fans. He was not to contact any of the Ravens, neither those who still played nor those who had graduated before. He was to have a housekeeper, a nanny, essentially, Riko thought; someone to keep an eye on him and help him adjust to the normal life.

“This is my gift for you,” Ichirou said as he rose from his chair. “Consider it an early Christmas gift. But do not think, for a moment, that as soon as you screw up, I can have you erased in less than a second.”

Riko was not sure which he would have preferred if he had the choice – a life without exy or no life at all.

The house Ichirou had gotten for him was a few hours’ ride from the major airport in the state. The suburbs were quiet, boring almost, but just as Ichirou had wished – no media, no possible fans, still close enough for a great medical centre that the Moriyamas now funded.

I hate it here Riko wanted to say. Instead he thanked the real estate agent for the keys and let them give him a tour of the house; a nice sized kitchen, a dining room, a living room and a bathroom downstairs; two bedrooms and a small office along with a bigger bathroom upstairs. I hate it here and I want to die Riko wanted to say, but instead he smiled and assured the real estate agent that everything looked absolutely perfect.

The first housekeeper that Ichirou assigned him reminded Riko of a middle-aged mother of three who cannot keep a man because of her verbose ways. It took Riko an hour to tell her to fuck off when she asked him what he would like for dinner. It took him another hour to threaten her with a knife, call her a whore, and ten minutes after that she was calling him the devil’s spawn and quitting the job.

The second housekeeper was a girl Riko’s age. If the older woman had treated Riko like a delinquent son, the younger woman treated him like a brother. She teased him when he would not eat, and chastised him when he would lock himself into the bathroom, trying to figure out which way to slit his wrists.

Ichirou fired the woman a week later after she had called ambulance, having found Riko in the bathtub with his wrists looking like a kitten with razors for claws had scratched him. Riko spent another month in the hospital, but this time did not receive any visitors. Had he, he would not have known what to say.

The third housekeeper was already in his house when Riko took the cab home, making food in the kitchen. Unlike the first housekeeper, who had greeted Riko and had waited for a hello from him, and unlike the second housekeeper who always met Riko at the door, this housekeeper did not even stop moving around in the kitchen, the pots and pans clanging around. They did not ask him how he was, they did not ask him what he would like to eat, they did not try to see if Riko needed help.

Riko spent hours in his room, and when he finally got out to venture into the kitchen, he found a bowl of cold soup on the table. It tasted surprisingly well, albeit it was cold. Eating soup at midnight while sitting on a countertop was a novelty he had not experienced enough, and so he took a few minutes to look around the kitchen for real, for the first time.

He was focusing on wondering where the knives were when he heard steps behind him. Instead of being told off for eating this late, or eating cold soup, his housekeeper went to the fridge and poured himself some soup too. The two of them eyed each other as they ate – the housekeeper eyeing Riko’s long-sleeved shirt and the supporting bandage around his knee; Riko eyeing the glasses perched on brown hair and the shirt of some obscure band T-shirt he wore.

“Ainsley,” the man said, slurping some soup. “PUP,” he said, pointing to his T-shirt for a second.

Riko finished his soup and got up without saying a word.

Ainsley was an oddity, Riko soon decided. He would not bother Riko about anything, would not ask him what he ate and what allergies he had, would not force him to get out of his room every day, and only actually approached Riko when it was time for his weekly therapy sessions. He cooked daily, did laundry once a week and went to the store to buy necessities when they were out. Sometimes they would have takeout, and Riko could eat in his own room when he wanted to have a snack.

Yet there was something… wrong with him as well. Riko did not see him use a computer or a laptop, and his phone rang every few days, to which he always answered after exiting the house. If his second housekeeper had talked about having a boyfriend, Ainsley seemed to be as detached from society and relationships as Riko was.

Then there was the incident.

Ainsley had gone to the store and Riko had scouted the kitchen for knives, had gone through each and every shelf, cabinet and storage space, but he had found none. He had checked Ainsley’s room (the door was locked), had checked the kitchen again (one of the cabinet doors was locked and he had no idea where a key could be) and had even pulled open the freezer door. There were no knives in sight.

“What are you doing?” Ainsley asked when he found Riko sitting on the ground in front of the locked cabinet door.

“Where are the knives?” Riko asked, his back to Ainsley, knocking on the door of the cabinet. “Are they there?”

Ainsley hummed, putting the food onto the counter, then starting to put the groceries away. “Yeah. You’re not allowed to go near them, so just drop it.”

Riko grabbed onto his ankle, glaring up at Ainsley. “I need them. Now.”

“You do not.” Ainsley pulled his foot away from Riko and ignored how Riko cursed and swore at him, and promised to stab him as soon as he got the knives.

“Which is exactly why you’re not getting the knives. Go do something in the living room, watch TV or read or whatever. I need to make food, or we’ll starve.”

Riko threw a book at the TV a minute later but it was alright – they did not watch much TV anyway. He had wanted to scare Ainsley into giving him what he wanted, but Ainsley had behaved in a way that suggested that he was not scared of Riko or whatever he stood for. Somehow that made Riko like him.

Riko’s birthday just so happened to be the day of his therapy. Instead of getting up like he usually would, he burrowed himself deeper into the blankets and ignored his alarm clock. He also ignored Ainsley who knocked onto his door an hour before his therapy session was due.

“Therapy in an hour,” Ainsley said, not opening the door yet. “I’ll drive you.”

But Riko did not get up. He did not want to shower and to get dressed so that a woman in an ill-fitting pencil skirt could ask him how many times he had thought of killing himself the week earlier. He did not want to drive to the hospital only to be driven back later, and then to lie around doing nothing.

Thirty minutes later, Ainsley opened the door and peeked in. “Oh. Still alive. Get up.”

No. NO! Riko’s mind screamed, but his body turned so that he was looking at Ainsley. Ainsley looked just like he had looked on the first night they had met – an obscure band T-shirt on, and glasses on top of his hair.

“I’m not going,” Riko said when Ainsley did not leave. “I haven’t even showered. I look like a mess. My hair’s greasy.”

It was the most words he had spoken to any of his housekeepers. It did not impress Ainsley, who left for a couple of minutes, only to come back into the room and toss a can at Riko.

“Dry shampoo. We’re leaving in ten.”

“How have you been, Riko?” the therapist asked him right after he sat down. Riko sighed, shrugging, and tried to tune her out as much as possible.

“Still having bad thoughts?”

He nodded.

“Are you taking your meds?”

Another nod.

“Do you have anyone else to talk to?”

Riko shrugged. Who would he talk to? His brother? He would rather die.

“Did someone drive you here?” She asked, writing down things that Riko had said, or rather things he had not.

He wondered if he could train the muscles in his neck by just nodding.

“Do you think you could talk to them? It’s very hard to be alone in this world, Riko.”

I know this, stupid bitch Riko thought, but gave a small shrug again. Him and Ainsley had nothing to talk about, anyway. What would they talk about? The food Ainsley was going to make? When he was going to do laundry? Who he called and was so secretive about?

Ainsley waited for Riko in the waiting room, glasses on, reading a book. Riko tried to read the title – Slaughterhouse Five – before Ainsley put the book aside and got up. He did not say anything, and at first, Riko did not. He spoke up once they were in the car.

“It’s my birthday today,” he said quietly as Ainsley turned the engine on. “I’m 23 now.”

Ainsley hummed, taking a right instead of a left. “I don’t have a gift, but I’ll buy you a slice of cake.”

For the first time in over a year, Riko genuinely smiled. “I like red velvet cake.”

Slowly Riko started talking again. There was not much he wanted to talk to Ainsley about, but he would ask what they would have for dinner, what books Ainsley was reading and why he wore such ugly T-shirts. Ainsley was not very talkative either, giving words and sometimes short sentences as answers, but together they learned how to arrange letters into words and words into sentences without it sounding forced. For a few happy, fleeting, moments, Riko wondered if that was what it felt to have a friend. But then again, Riko had a very hazy idea what ‘friends’ even meant. The Ravens had always been violent and cold and either overly distant or overly physical, so Riko expected Ainsley to be similar – fully withdrawn or draping himself over Riko when they talked; when Ainsley did not touch him unless it was to give Riko some food or to pat his shoulder for when Riko came out of his room and did not mope.

Ainsley mentioned how he wanted to see a movie in the cinema; Riko made the effort to shower and asked Ainsley to go see the movie with him. Riko mentioned how he wanted to walk longer distances now that his knee felt healed; Ainsley drove him to a park after his therapy session and let Riko use him as a crutch for a wonderful hour. Ainsley talked about how one of his favourite authors would be promoting his newest book in the neighbouring town – Riko booked them seats to the reading of the first chapter and spent over an hour listening to a story he did not much care about, only to see Ainsley smile and laugh. Riko said he missed sports – Ainsley took him to see the local high school football team play against someone from their state.

“Are we friends?” Riko asked one winter morning over a bowl of cereal, wearing his warmest sweater.

“I’m your housekeeper,” Ainsley simply said, shrugging, pulling one of the straps of his tank top up. “It’s a bit different than being friends.”

Riko was upset about the answer for a couple of days until Ainsley demanded they decorated the house together to prepare for Christmas.

“It must be festive,” Ainsley said, another band T-shirt on, trying to wrap the tinsel around the fake Christmas tree, “It’s fucking Christmas!”

The snort that came out of Riko’s mouth was almost a laugh. He was almost content with the tree, the Christmas sweater Ainsley had told him to wear (it was soft and had a snowflake pattern) and the cookies they were to make. In his 23 years, he had not baked anything, but Ainsley promised it would be fine. I’ve made them before, it’ll be fine Ainsley had said as he tossed premade dough into their shopping cart, want to pick what colour icing we’ll use?

Riko had chosen black and red, his two favourite colours. Ainsley had at first laughed, but then had helped Riko to decorate the dozens of gingerbread cookies, shaped like ravens and hearts and snowflakes. Riko wrote a ‘#1’ onto a raven; Ainsley wrote Riko’s name onto a heart shaped cookie. Neither of them spoke of how when Riko saw the cookie, his cheeks turned pink, or how Ainsley gave him a little wink and a smile.

Riko had not expected to receive any gifts for Christmas. He had not talked to the friends he had had for over a year; his brother would surely not give him anything, and his therapist’s only gift to him had been to tell him he had improved considerably in the time he had been to therapy. He had not expected to give any presents either, yet when him and Ainsley went shopping, and Ainsley spent ten minutes making eyes at a black cashmere sweater without buying it, Riko placed an order online to get the sweater delivered to their door, wrapped in the silliest wrapping paper and the biggest bow the store had. A few more shopping trips, and Riko grew more used to putting in his credit card details and not telling delivery guys to fuck off.

It was not easy to tell who was more surprised to find presents with their name written on them – Ainsley when he found not only one but four gifts under the tree, or Riko when he counted three more presents under the tree than he had put there.

“You got me a present?” both of them said at the same time, and Ainsley smiled widely, wagging a finger at Riko.

“Riko, you know you did not have to get me anything, yes?”

“I wanted to.” Riko said, automatically, picking up a soft rectangular gift. “You didn’t have to get me anything…”

Ainsley shrugged, picking up a nicely wrapped present, shaking it to figure out what it was. “Wanted to. We’re kind of friends, are we not?”

Riko’s blush was hidden by him opening the present and covered by the sound of Ainsley ripping the wrapping paper apart, revealing a black cashmere sweater inside.

“Oh, Riko… Thank you,” Ainsley pulled the sweater on right away, wrapping his arms around his body to feel the soft fabric. “It’s lovely!”

Instead of answering, Riko pulled the gift wrap off the present, trying to figure out why Ainsley had gotten him a pair of mittens, a scarf and a beanie. He did not go out much, and even if he did, they usually took the car.

“So that we can go outside and build a snowman,” Ainsley pointed out, already opening the other presents – books and some fancy cleaning liquid for glasses. “You barely go outside and you’re really missing out on winter. It’d be good for you, too.”

Riko mumbled how he did not like cold and snow anyway, and went towards the kitchen to get himself some gingerbread cookies. Apparently, he was not the only one with such idea, so him and Ainsley tried to step through the doorway at the same moment.

“You go first,” Riko said, gesturing for Ainsley to go.

And then suddenly Ainsley was pressing a quick kiss onto his lips, much warmer than Riko had expected or dared to hope. For what it was worth, Riko kissed back more, more, please, don’t leave me hanging, please until Ainsley pulled away a second later, cheeks flushed, a grin on his face. He pointed at something above them, winking.

“Mistletoe.”

Riko wondered if Ainsley had put it up to have an excuse to kiss him or if Ainsley truly believed mistletoe was an important part of Christmas.

I want to take you out on a date.

Riko looked at himself in the mirror. He had showered, had shaved, had used deodorant, had put on a clean shirt. A white button up shirt. So what if his face looked sunken in, and the dark circles under his eyes made him look older than he wanted to look. He was a good-looking guy… right?

“I want to take you out on a date.”

Clear, straight to the point. Honest. He could do this.

Ainsley was in the kitchen, making lunch, as he usually would. Riko helped, sometimes, but today he had more important things on his mind than vegetables. He coughed, trying to get Ainsley’s attention.

“Oh,” Ainsley turned, giving Riko a one-over. “You’re looking fancy. Going somewhere? Need me to drive you?”

Riko shook his head, looking at Ainsley. He took a deep breath.

“You. Out.” Fuck.

Ainsley arched a brow, stirring the vegetables on the wok pan. “Excuse me?”

“Go out with me.”

That got him a smile, and Ainsley beckoned for him to take a few steps closer. “Are you asking or telling me?”

“…Asking?” A few steps, still not close enough to reach if either of them held their arm out.

“Ask me nicely,” Ainsley teased, motioning for him to take a couple of more steps, giving Riko the spatula so that he could help with making the food. Riko patted the vegetables, narrowing his eyes as he tried to figure out what exactly Ainsley wanted. A blowjob? Would that be it? Money? Presents?

Ainsley’s hand on Riko’s was gentle. Riko looked at it, and for the first time noticed the scar tissue over the knuckles.

“Repeat what I’m saying. Ready? Do you want to go out with me?”

Riko nodded, cheeks warm. “Yes.”

Ainsley’s laugh was hearty, but warm, and he squeezed Riko’s hand. “You’re lucky you’re so cute.” He leaned even closer, kissing one of Riko’s red cheeks. “After lunch, you can take me out.”

He hummed as he continued cooking the lunch, and Riko had to excuse himself so that he could rush to the bathroom before he made a mess out of himself by blushing or whimpering of joy.

While Riko was elated to see that Ainsley looked ever so handsome while dressed in a warm sweater and a beanie, he was surprised that Ainsley still wore glasses, even if they would not need to read small letters.

“Are they not reading glasses?” Riko asked, eyeing his companion, fully taking advantage of getting to hold Ainsley’s hand and being so close to him.

Ainsley shook his head, turning to give Riko a little smile. “No. Need them to see most of the time. Not everyone has a perfect vision.”

Riko could understand that. He knew that if a person had stress, their sight could get blurry, had experienced it a lot back in the Nest. There had never been enough time to rest his body and his mind, so Riko had worn a pair of glasses in his glasses and while studying. Now, it seemed, his eyes had adjusted to their surroundings and he only needed glasses if he stayed up too late, watching TV.

“Besides, I wouldn’t get to see your beautiful face without them.” Ainsley winked, and Riko felt his cheeks turn bright red.

They walked to a small café a few blocks away from Riko’s house, and got hot chocolate that they could drink inside. Ainsley offered they could buy cookies or cake, but Riko just wanted something to drink. They sat by the window, watching the snow fall, Riko’s hand resting on Ainsley’s over the table.

“Something on your mind?” Ainsley asked, lifting his glasses up into his hair so that the warm drink would not fog up the glasses. “The hot chocolate not sweet enough?”

Riko shook his head, curling his fingers around Ainsley’s hand. He put his drink down, and took Ainsley’s hand between his, turning it over to map out all the skin he could put his fingertips on. Again, Riko saw the scars and he traced some of them, frowning. Ainsley did not look like he was into sports – how could he have gotten the scars then.

“Accident,” Ainsley answered before Riko could ask. “Glass pieces were everywhere. Had to get stiches.”

Gently, Riko stroked his thumbs over Ainsley’s knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

Ainsley shrugged it off, “Happened a long time ago. It’s fine.”

When Riko brought Ainsley’s hand to his face and kissed the scars on his knuckles, Ainsley’s cheeks turned a shade darker, and he pushed his glasses in front of his eyes.

Good, Riko thought, finally doing something right.

They finished their drinks and left, holding hands the entire way home.

A few weeks later, it was Ainsley who asked Riko out. He sat down next to Riko while Riko was watching the news in the living room, and grinned, putting his arms behind his head.

“Hear me out, yes? I was thinking. You like sports, yes?”

Riko nodded, not looking away from the TV.

“There’s a basketball game in the city over. Wanna go?”

Riko slowly shook his head. Basketball was not really his thing.

“Oh. What sports do you like then?”

“Exy.”

Ainsley hummed, sitting a bit up. “Alright. I’ll look into it.”

He gave Riko’s shoulder a little nudge before getting up, going upstairs. Later, Ainsley skipped downstairs again, giving Riko a thumbs-up. “Next weekend there’s a little league game. The drive will be three hours one way, but we could g-“

“Yes.” If he could have exy again, even as a spectator, even if Ichirou killed him for that, the rest of his life would be wonderful.

Behave.

Ichirou’s text message was prompt and Riko had nearly thrown his phone out of the window. Of course he was going to behave. He still limped, could not walk for a longer period of time without having pains in his knee – what did Ichirou think he was going to do? Storm the court and demand to play?

I will.

“You look like you’re really enjoying yourself,” Ainsley whispered next to his ear, taking Riko’s hand and entwining their fingers. “But you’re frowning a lot.”

“They’re shit,” Riko mumbled, pointing at the backliner. “He’s missing most of his opportunities,” he pointed at the striker next, “She would miss the goal if she stood three feet from it and the goalkeeper had gone for a break.”

Ainsley laughed, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “Cute and smart. How did I ever find you, hm?”

Had Ainsley complimented him years ago when he was the most known exy player in the world, Riko would not have given him a second glance off of court. But now, sitting in the stands and watching a game he would never play again…

Now Ainsley holding his hand and being so close to him made Riko’s heart beat faster than the adrenaline before an exy game ever could.

“Riko… Where are the goals, in like soccer?” Ainsley asked, pointing to where the goals were. Riko sighed, closing his eyes. Perhaps he would manage to teach Ainsley about exy later when they got home.

When they got home, Riko did not have a chance to educate Ainsley about exy. They stepped into the living room, and Ainsley turned to Riko with a soft, inviting smile. “Would you like to see my room? Nothing too serious, of course. Perhaps… cuddling? More kisses?”

Riko nodded, as if in trance, following Ainsley up the stairs. For that one evening, Riko forgot about everything shitty in his past life, and enjoyed his life. Maybe there was more to life than exy, and perhaps everything would work out fine.

And it did.

#riko moriyama #the foxhole court #all for the game #aftg exchange #my writing #*dabs away*

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iamarosegarden · 6 years

Text

Social Media

yo! it’s day two of the countdown, i did a youtube au, even though i’m sure a lot of other people did. i felt like it, also i couldn’t really think of anything else. so, here it is.

ao3

PLAY

The screen filled with black, than a snowball rolled across the screen, spelling out “SimonSn☃️w”.

Then the screen was filled by a boy, with curly (curly) bronze hair and blue (blue) eyes (Aleister Crowley, he’s hot). Wearing a pale green sweater, the sleeves pushed up to his forearms, and jeans. He was standing behind a kitchen island, with his hands on his hips, looking off-screen.

“Penny, I am not making german chocolate cake again. The video’s not even a year old!” the boy (presumably Simon) says, taking a hand off his hip to drag it through his hair. Only, it gets caught partway through and he has to untangle his fingers.

“But Simoooon,” says a girl’s voice off screen (probably Penny), “I really want some,”

“Nope.” Simon says, glancing at the camera, “we don’t have the ingredients anyway”.

“I’m about to go to the store, I’ll get them!” Penny said, appearing on screen, an indian girl with deep indigo hair (a lot of indigo hair, wow) and a pair of cat-eyed glasses. She ducks behind Simon grabs a pair of keys off a bowel on the counter.

“I- Penny! I’m not making it!” yells Simon after Penny as she disappears off screen again, shaking his head as he hears the door slam shut (Baz can’t help but snicker at the look of fond exasperation on Simon’s face). He sighed before turning to the camera, “In case any of you are wondering, she has the ingredients list memorized.”

It cuts to Penny appearing on screen, with Simon facing her, leaning against the counter. She has at least ten bags looped over her arms quickly rushed to the island to set them down. “Sooooo,” she began, looking up at Simon hopefully, “these are all the ingredients you need.”

“Fine, but you have to help with this and the scones, and I’m posting this on my side channel,” Simon said, and started pulling ingredients out of the bags. Penny beamed at him and then turned to the camera.

“I knew he’d cave,”

“Shut up Penny,”

“Looooove you,”

It cuts to Simon standing facing the camera again, with Penny next to him. His shoulder are slumped in defeat and Penny’s grinning like a madwoman. (Baz feels like Penny’s always grinning like a madwoman.)

“Hi guys! It’s Simon Snow, and today I’ve been wrestled into making another german chocolate cake by my friend and flatmate Penny, or as you guys might know her, PennyofyourThoughts. Thanks for watching, and I hope your desserts tastes great!”

It cuts to a fast montage of them measuring all the ingredients out, text popping up in the corner of the screen to tell you what the measurements were. (It seemed like Simon had just spliced together all the funniest moments, and while Baz didn’t want to admit it, he may have giggled a few times.)

Two cups all-purpose flour: Penelope emerging from the pantry with the bag of flour held over her head triumphantly, Simon laughing in the background.

One and a half cups granulated sugar: they’ve both somehow gotten flour on their faces, and a cup of it sits neatly on the island counter as Simon pours some sugar back into the bag, glaring at Penelope. “You know it only taste good if you follow the recipe, right? Because this much sugar would have been disgusting.” Penny’s moan of frustration is cut off as the next clip plays.

Three/fourths cup of cocoa powder: Simon pulls something out of the shopping bag, then turns to Penny with a look of horror. “This- this is Nisquick Mix, Penny! This is… this won’t work.” Penny just stares at him. “You’ve seen me make this before, right? You watched the video? You have the recipe memorized?” Penny nodds. “THEN WHY DID YOU GET CHOCOLATE MILK MIX, PENELOPE?”

“There’s a difference?”

“I- Yes! There’s a difference.”

“Oh, I see,”

“You see,”

“I’ll be right back”

Simon just shakes his head at her as she leaves.

One teaspoon salt, One teaspoon baking powder, Two teaspoons baking soda: all three of these went into a small bowl, Simon hovering over Penny to make sure she used the right spoons.

One cup buttermilk: Simon pours the milk into the cup from high enough up that it splashes on the island counter, and then it cuts to him sadly wiping it up.

One half a cup vegetable oil: this time Penny pours it, and Simon watches intently from where he’s crouched behind the island his eyes level with the cup.

Two eggs: Simon cracked them both, one in each hand, and Penny gasped.

One cup hot coffee: Penny and Simon both downed a mug in silence while staring at the camera.

Then it cuts to Simon and Penny standing behind the island, staring gravely at the ingredients that were neatly laid out in bowls and cups. Then they looked at each other and started laughing.

“So, I don’t really want to go into detail with how you make it and stuff because, there’s already a video on that…”

“You could do a Q&A?” Penny suggests, already pulling her phone out of her pocket to tweet about it.

“Yeah okay that works,”

“Okay so, we tweeted out for questions, and I’m gonna finish making this cake while Penny reads them,” Simon shoves up his sleeves from where they’ve slipped down, and Penny nods from where she’s sitting on the counter behind him. “I mean, this is pretty easy to make anyway. Um, link to the recipe on my blog in the description,”

“@snowsiman asks ‘are you in a relationship?’” Penny reads off, wiping her head up to look up at Simon’s reaction.

Simon’s ears are going red, and he ducks down to focus on where he’s stirring the dry ingredients together. “Uh, no,”

Penny snickers at his answer “you’re blushing an awful lot there, Simon,” she says, which just makes him blush harder.

“Penny…” he groans, dropping the spoon to cover his cheeks with his hands. (god, he’s so cute.)

Penny shoves her hair out of her face before reading off the next the next one. “@SnowBaz asks, ‘will you ever do another blind baking video?’”

Before Penny has even fully finished talking Simon’s rushing to answer, “Noooooo! Never again,” (Baz had watched that video, it was hysterical) he turned around to glare at Penny, who just cackled and read off the next question.

“@DappleDesserts asks ‘how did you start baking?’”

Simon blew a curl off his face and shoved the bowl under the stand mixer before grabbing another one for the wet ingredients.

“Well, you know I’m an Orphantm.” Simon started (he flahsed the ™ on the screen as he said it, and even though Baz felt kind of sorry about it, he laughed), his eyes now pinned to the new bowl as he slowly stirred (slowly stirred). “One of the foster homes I got placed in never really had enough food for all the kids they had taken on so I stepped up. I was maybe 12? I just started with like microwave mac and cheese and then real pasta and then stuff like homemade pizza and stir fry and eventually the older kids would bring me ingredients with requests for stuff and the like.” he laughed a little at that. “I liked it cuz none of the other kids would bother me when I was measuring stuff out because they wanted it to taste good but then one of the new girls gave me three dollars and asked me if i could make her something sweet because she missed her mother’s angel cake and of fucking course I did because…” he trailed off and sniffed, staring at the bowl in silence for a few seconds before continuing, “uh anyway I made it and I already liked cooking, but the way it made me feel when she thanked me was just- it was something. And I’ve always loved food and that was where the dream started. I still kinda want to open a bakery but,” Simon shrugged “sometimes dreams only come halfway true and that's better than nothing”

Penny she was wiping her eyes. “Uh” She coughed into her arm, “@snowball4life asks ‘what’s your favorite dessert/pastry,’”

Simon laughed, (transforming back into the golden boy that he was) looking back at the camera, “This is waaay more serious than my tragic backstory. Penny already knows, but I just wanna clarify before I answer, just because this is my favorite pastry, that doesn’t mean it’s the only thing I ever eat, so don’t pull that shit where it’s the only thing you bring to conventions, I do not want another repeat of the Roast Beef Incident,” he poured the wet ingrediants into the dry and then turned on the mixer, “it’s Sour Cherry Scones,”

Penny started laughing again. “Oh my god, I’d almost forgotten about that,” she leaned toward the camera from her perch, “basically, someone asked him what his favorite food was during a livestream, and then at that year’s vidcon, all people brought were different variants of roast beef, and their versions of his desserts, of course. But mostly roast beef. And because Simon’s such a fuckin’ sap, he didn’t want to throw any of it away, so for the longest time our fridge and freezer were just, full of roast beef shit. It was great… but Simon couldn’t eat roast beef for like a year after that,” she snickers again (Baz along with her, he remembers that con, it was before he’d known anything about Simon Snow (ah, the blissful ignorance he’d had) and had been very confused about the smell) “Anyway, @🌈Mordelia🌈 asks ‘are you one of us gays?’” (goddamn it Baz was going to have a talk with his sister, because he knew that’s her handle)

Simon frowned for a second as he grabbed the coffee and started pouring it in the mix, “I don’t really like labels, but when pressed for one I usually say I’m bi. But yeah, I don’t like labels. But I mean, it’s fine if you like labels, for some people it helps them feel more secure and stuff. I’m totally chill with other people using them, just don’t force one on me, ya know?” (Baz mentally rejoiced at the confirmation that Simon liked both genders, and then had to remind himself that he’d never met Simon so it wasn’t like he really had a chance)

Simon ducked under the island as Penny read off the next question “@PrincessPriya, hey, shoutout to my sister, follow her on twitter, asks ‘Simon are you you afraid of the dark ? 😈’”

Simon popped up from behind the island and whirled around and pointed at Penny, who was grinning evilly, “Fuck you, Bunce,” he spun around and faced the camera, pointing at it, “and fuck you, Bunce,” he finished, setting three cake pans down on counter. “I am afraid of the dark, you can’t see in it,” he flicked off the mixer and flipped up the spatula to let the batter drip off, “Next question,”

“@pitchsviolin,” Penny pauses, “that’s another Grimm-Pitch watcher. There’s a weirdly big overlap between your subscribers. @pitchsviolin asks ‘will you and Grimm-Pitch ever do a collab?’”

(Baz didn’t know if he should be frustrated or grateful that his and Simon's followers seemed so determined to get a collab.)

Simon detached the spatula and quickly tossed it in the sink, going off screen for a second to do so. He started pouring out the batter as he answered, “Um, I don’t know… I mean, he doesn’t seem to like me that much? (Baz mentally smacked himself, he could see how Simon had gotten that impression. Back when he’d been in intense denial of his crush he may have answered a few questions about Simon a bit too aggressively) And what would we even do? I make baking videos and vlogs, and he does violin, dancing, and Q&As. But I don’t know, maybe at next vidcon or something he and I can meet up and talk about it,” (Baz paused the video for a couple seconds to let that sink in. He couldn’t decide if he loved or hated the idea.)

Simon turned around and stuck the pans in the oven. “I think that’s gonna be the end of this video. Making the icing is kinda loud, and I also don’t feel like doing fancy icing or decorations, which would be kinda boring to watch so, yeah. Also I think this is a good stopping point.”

Penny hopped of the counter and walked offscreen, Simon’s eyes following her as she moved behind the camera.

“Thanks for watching, don’t forget to do all the youtube things, and check out my other videos at the links on screen. Byeeeeeeeeeeeeee,”

There was a fast zoom to his face on the ‘bye’ and then the screen changed to Simon’s endcard, a snowy mountain with links to his channels on either side, some generic music playing in the background.

End of Video

#simon snow #baz pitch #penelope bunce #carry on #carry on countdown #coc 2017 #carry on fanfic #co fanfic #co #iamarosegarden #iamarosegarden fanfic

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acuaticamber06 · 7 years

Text

Undertone, Chapter Eight

Hey, everybody! I think I finally got rid of that illness, and just in time for cooler weather, too!

Let’s see what the gang is up to, shall we?

Warnings: We’ve got some more light swearing in this chapter.

Obvious disclaimer: I don’t own Undertale or any of the characters in it, just my own characters. This story is for fun. ^_^

***

Undertone, Chapter Eight

Contrary to what his laid-back attitude would have you believe, Sans was many things. He was a complex Monster with flaws and more emotional strata than any geologist would care to count (and all of the psychologically-damaged baggage that came with it). He could be rather philosophical when the occasion called for it; a really sensitive, deep-thinking sort of guy.

But the only thing Sans was feeling, at the moment, was cold.

To clarify, the cold didn't hurt him. It never had. Skeletons didn't experience pain from extreme temperatures like other people did. That's why he and Papyrus had always dressed the way they had, even back in Snowdin.

But just because it didn't hurt him did not mean that he couldn't feel it. Sans could feel temperatures. In fact, he was so sensitive to them that, at any given moment, he could tell you the temperature outside. Or how hot a bowl of soup is. Or whether or not the thermometer in a freezer was working.

See, out of sheer boredom once, he had trained himself to accurately tell the temperatures of anything he touched. It made for a great bar trick. He'd won a lot of bets at first. Then Grillby caught on to what he was doing and started boiling his free drinks. He stopped hustling after that.

So, not only did Sans know for a fact that he was cold, he also knew exactly how cold.

"Gerson, this water is cold."

"Eh? Of course! That's an important part of the process. You can't jus' skip it."

"It's barely 50 degrees!" He frowned behind his closed sockets. "How is that even possible? It's summer!"

"Wa ha ha! Thanks to the fact that my house is so far from town, I'm not connected to the city water supply! My well is deep and cold. Reminds me of Waterfall."

If Sans could glare at him, he would. But he didn't really like opening his eyes in the water. Getting stuff in his sockets felt...weird.

***

After a few days of running with Papyrus, Sans knew that running wasn't going to solve his problem. Sure, it was a great distraction, and spending more time with his brother was really nice, actually.

But when the run was over and they laid in the ground, panting like the royal guard after chasing an intruder, Rin would spin his thoughts into a whirlpool he couldn't get out of.

Her hair, the sound of her voice, her smile...

"SO, WHAT DO YOU THINK?"

"NOTHING!" Sans sat up with a start.

"WHAT?" Papyrus sat up too and looked at him strangely.

"I mean," he rubbed his bones hans across his face. "About what?"

"THE RUN, OF COURSE! DID IT HELP?"

Sans gave his brother a tired smile. "Yeah. It did. I'm glad I let you drag me out here."

"EXCELLENT! THEN WE WILL RUN EVERY DAY TOGETHER UNTIL YOUR PROBLEM IS GONE!"

"Uh, Paps," Sans started delicately. "I don't think running alone is going to do it."

"OF COURSE NOT, BROTHER! THAT IS WHY WE RUN TOGETHER!"

"No, I mean, I think I should do more that just run whenever I'm upset."

"OH? WHAT ELSE WILL YOU DO?"

"I dunno. I wish there was an old, wise monster who could tell me what I need."

Papyrus tapped his phalanges against his jaw thoughtfully. "HMM. AN OLD ONE?"

He stood up suddenly, in the way he always did when he had an idea."I WILL HELP YOU FIND YOUR WISEMONSTER, BROTHER!"

"Oh, no, Paps. You don't have to-"

"YES, I DO, AND I WILL! FEAR NOT! THE GREAT PAPYRUS NEVER FAILS!"

And with that final declaration, Papyrus sped off, apparently in pursuit of the wiseman Sans needed. He shook his head.

Yeah. Good luck with that.

***

Imagine Sans' surprise when Papyrus really did find him a wiseman. Well, at least one old enough to fit the classification.

"Gerson?" Sans blinked up at the mottled olive-green Tortoise.

"Afternoon, Sans!" The Tortoise tipped the edge of his pith helmet to him.

"What are you-" Sans began, then quit when he saw Papyrus bringing up the rear.

"LOOK, BROTHER! I HAVE FOUND YOU A WISEMONSTER!" He put his hands on his hips triumphantly, turning his head up at an angle. If the wind had been blowing his scarf around, he would have looked like a superhero.

"Well, I don't know about that..." Gerson scratched the back of his head bashfully. "But when he wouldn't tell me what your problem was, I figured it had been a while since I'd seen my favorite bone boys, so I came along to see how I could help."

Sans stood up and shook Gerson's hand. For an old guy, he still had one hell of a grip.

"The reason he didn't tell you what my problem was is because he doesn't know what it is." Sans explained.

Papyrus dropped his epic pose to cross his arms and look at Sans in a very annoyed fashion.

"YES. SANS REFUSES TO TRUST ME, HIS OWN BONE AND MARROW, WITH WHATEVER IS BOTHERING HIM." He looked down at the Tortoise, who smiled up at him. "BUT I SUPPOSE IF YOU CAN FIX HIS PROBLEM, THEN IT DOES NOT MATTER WHAT IT IS."

He walked over to Sans and drew him into a strong hug. "MY BROTHER DESERVES TO BE HAPPY. THAT'S ALL THAT MATTERS."

"I really appreciate the sentiment, bro," Sans fought to say. "But you're about to break me in half."

After Papyrus let him go, promising to make him extra special spaghetti as an apology, Sans stuck a thumb in the direction of the driveway.

"Wanna take a walk?"

"If that's what you'd like."

They walked in silence for a few minutes before Sans felt uncomfortable enough to say something."You know, Gerson, you don't have to stick around and do anything if you don't want to. Papyrus overheard me muttering to myself and got it into his head that I needed some wise guru to give me answers."

"Well, it doesn't hurt to get a second opinon, does it?" Gerson asked.

"I suppose not..."

"Then tell me what's botherin' you, son. Maybe I can help."

***

And so, Sans found himself sitting in Gerson's shower, in lieu of a waterfall.

"Gerson, this isn't helping." Sans grumbled beneath the chilly stream of water.

"Nonsense! Undyne used to swear by the waterfall method!

""But she's a fish."

"Don't let her hear you sayin' that."

Sans huffed a sigh and felt water droplets spray outward with the force of his breath. "And what, exactly, is this supposed to do for me again?"

"Eh? It centers the mind, the body, and the Soul. It brings everythin' into focus. The water clenses you."

"Oh, I'm clean, alright..."

He felt a rough pat on his shoulder. "Give it a little more time. Then, if you still need enlightenment, we'll try somethin' else."

***

The bell by the service window pinged twice to tell her that an order was up.

"Alright! I'll be back in just a minute with your sodas and your IPA, Mr. Snail."

Rin shoved her writing pad into the unoccupied back pocket and hurried to the window to pick up the food. She glanced in at Grillby as he slaved over the grill. He must have heard her, because he looked up and held up two fingers.

"Table twelve?" She asked as she stacked the plates onto a serving tray.

He nodded, although she already knew the answer. They knew that table two was Bun's booth.

"Hey, the Snails just arrived. You might want to prepare for a salt-free order."

He flashed her a thumbs up as she lifted the tray of food. She grinned in response and hauled the Burgs out to table twelve.

***

A week had passed without much of an incident. Sure, there was that one time where Rin had dumped an entire pitcher of beer on Punky (who had left in an indignant huff mumbling something about the metaphor of drowning in mainstream ale, only to come back later and apologize for his behavior). But otherwise, Rin felt kind of proud of her ability as a waitress. She was quick on her feet and tried to emulate the way Grillby handled the room on his own: she never let a drink go empty, and always had a smile for the customers.

She heard the tablet in her apron tinkle, alerting her that Grillby probably needed help in the kitchen. She excused herself and headed to the back of the bar.

Grillby had gone out and bought a second tablet. Now one lived up at the bar so he could talk to the customers seated there, and the other Rin carried with her so that he could talk to her no matter where she was on the floor.

She glanced down at the screen as she approached the swinging kitchen doors.

*Hey, can I borrow you for a minute? I need a second set of hands for the Snails' order.

She didn't pause as she pushed one door open. Rin went straight to the sink and washed her hands.

"Want me to watch the grill?"

Grillby nodded, putting a few more burger patties on at the same time.

The tough part about the Snails is that they had to clean the grill before their order could be cooked on it. Grillby had told her that prepping salt-free food wasn't really an issue; it was just inconvenient to clean the grill in the middle of the dinner rush. But he was a wonderful chef who demanded perfection for his guests, so clean the grill he did.

"You must be doing something right...this is the fourth time they've been here this week!"

Grillby gave her an amused look and passed the spatula to her. Rin slid into his spot as soon as he vacated it, and he headed over to the walk-in fridge for burger supplies.

"I mean it, Grillby. The two little ones don't eat much, but Mr. Mustache can clear a plate of fries by himself! And The green...uh, snail ordered TWO Burgs this time!"

She could hear him crackling with laughter at her inability to name the last snail. The guy wasn't really a snail at all. He looked like a short, bald, green human with a snail shell on his back. Rin was trying to be sensitive, but the longer she looked at the guy, the more she wanted to giggle.

She scolded herself out loud, scolding Grillby in the process. "He is a lovely gentleman who has nothing but nice things to say about this establishment."

He stopped laughing, but she saw when she glanced over her shoulder that he was smiling as he kneaded ground meat with various seasonings.

Rin stuck the spatula under a burger to look at the bottom, then flipped all four on the grill. She most enjoyed the time she spent in the kitchen with him. It was never very long; her main position was put on the barroom floor with the customers. But the radio in the corner was always playing classic rock, and trading places to cook and prep food felt a little like dancing.

Rin was singing along with Guns N' Roses' Sweet Child O' Mine when a blue light flickered across the walls for a moment.

"Hi, Sans!" She sang in time with the music, waving the spatula in greeting. "Whoooaa, sweet skeleton of mi-iiine!"

His deep chuckle seemed just a little delayed...or was it her imagination?

"Hey, kid. How's the grill?"

"Hot. Oh, and I guess the cooking surface here is warm enough." She flipped the burgers again and turned to find Grillby kneading the burger meat faster than he needed to.

Nothing had happened between them again since she moved in, and Rin was trying to drop little hints that maybe something should.

She giggled and nudged Sans in the ribs with an elbow. He smirked then jabbed his thumb behind him. "Your burgers are burning."

Rin swore and rushed to the grill. "I turn my back for a SECOND-"

"Are the Snails back?" Sans asked.

She was sure Grillby was nodding, but Rin answered too. "Yep."

"What is that, three times now?"

"Four. They were here yesterday." Rin wiped some sweat off her forehead with the back of her wrist. "And not one of these burgers is burnt, Sans."

"That's a relief." Sans must have turned his head, because his words were harder to hear over the sizzling meat. "I'll be out at the bar. I want to say hi to the crew."

Rin heard Grillby wash his hands, then her tablet chimed right before he tapped her shoulder, signaling that he was ready to trade places.

"Okay. These look like they're close to being done."

*Go do a round of refills and then come back. I’ll have these four plated and I'll start to clean the grill.

"Okay. I'll be back in a minute to help."

Rin grabbed a fresh bottle of ketchup and slid it across the bar to Sans. He caught it and sent her fingerguns and a wink as thanks. With a pitcher in each hand, she refilled everyone's drinks in what felt like record time and went back to service window. Grillby loaded the plates up where she could reach them, and she took them out to the customers before heading into the kitchen again.

Grillby was scraping the flat grill with what seemed to be glorified metallic putty knives. He had scraped most of it into the trash. He leaned forward to get all of the grease out of the far corners, arching his back a little to keep his clothes off the grill.

Rin went to stand next to him. She reached out to put a hand on his lower back while inhaling to ask what she could do to help. But before her hand made contact, Grillby moved, putting it squarely in the middle of his left butt cheek.

Rin gasped. Grillby jumped, his flames flared, and stumbled with his knives, lighting up what grease was left on the grill in a bright flash of heat. Smoke filled the area briefly until the exhaust hood vented most of it outside.The Elemental spun to look at her, seeming somewhere between surprised and upset. Rin had backed herself up against the nearest wall, her hands clenched by her mouth in sheer mortification.

Oh god. Oh no. I touched his butt. I grabbed Grillby's butt and started a fire. I almost burned down his bar.

Sans stuck his head in the door, looking concerned. "What in the world was THAT?"

Neither one of them moved. Grillby kept his stormy eyes locked with hers, and Rin felt cemented to the spot.

Heaving a sigh, Sans stepped in front of Grillby and waved a hand in front of his face.

"Hey! Grillbz!" He snapped his fingers a couple of times until Grillby looked down at him. "What did you do, try to take a shortcut cleaning the grill and just set the whole thing ablaze?"

For a moment, Grillby just stared down at him with the same expression he'd given to Rin. Then she piped up from across the room.

"No. It's my fault."

Both men turned to look at her. Her hands were still clenched, but she had forced them down by her sides.

"I went to pat him on the back to tell him I was ready to help, and he moved. I-" she swallowed hard. "I didn't mean to touch his butt."

Sans looked like he was fighting to keep a neutral expression. He turned his head to look at Grillby, then Rin, then back again. He patted Grillby on the chest.

"Hang on a minute, pal."

He walked over to stand in front of Rin.

"Okay. Look, the fire is out and there's no damage done. No harm, no foul. But I think there's a valuable lesson to be learned here: don't surprise an Elemental. Unless you're standing outside." Sans wiggled his boney eyebrows at her, prompting a tiny smile to lift her lips.

"And you!" he turned and marched back over to Grillby. "You need to work on your reactions! You can't go setting the building on fire every time a girl grabs your ass."

Grillby's expression changed to one of annoyance and he put his hands on his hips. Rin sputtered and started to laugh, doubled over by the wall. Sans joined with his low chuckling, but she didn't hear Grillby laugh. When she finally looked up, he was massaging one of his temples with a wry grin on his face.

Red and Fish were peeking in through the service window, looking puzzled. "You guys okay?"

Sans waved a hand in the air dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. They're fine. Rin just figured out that Grillby's hot stuff."

He walked out of the kitchen as Red and Fish laughed, leaving Rin and Grillby alone.

***

So help me, Sans...

Grillby watched the skeleton walk out of the kitchen, exasperated. When he looked over at Rin, she jumped into action.

"I'll get the patties!"

Yes, she startled him. But Sans was right: he needed to get a better handle on how he reacted to surprises. He wasn't used to sharing the kitchen with someone else.

Rin brought the hamburgers over and he motioned for her to put them on the clean grill. As she turned to wash the tray, Grillby reached over and tapped her on the butt.

"Grillby!" She squealed. A peal of giggles followed. "I guess that makes us even, huh?"

He winked at her, then went back to tending the burgers.

***

Later that night, Rin couldn't get the kitchen incident out of her head. Grillby only made contact with her butt for a second, but the touch felt like it had been seared into her brain. Not because it upset her. Far from it.

She fanned herself with one hand. She really wanted to be close to him, to kiss him, but she couldn't do that safely without him using magic to protect them both. How could she take the lead if he always held the key to that gate?

Rin's thoughts were interrupted by an eyelash in her eye.

Ugh...stupid eyelash!

She pulled it out and blinked experimentally. Then an idea struck her like lightning.Rin grabbed the bottle of saline and squirted some in her eye, then knocked on Grillby's door.

"Hey, Grillby? Could you help me for a second?"

He opened the door and her heart nearly stopped. Apparently Grillby only wore boxer-briefs to bed. She could see his muscles highlighted in the same orange that lined his facial features. It was obvious that he worked out.

He rubbed sleep from his eyes and looked down at her expectantly.

"Oh, uh, I had something in my eye. I think I may have gotten it out, but I'm not sure. Would you check for me?"

He nodded and reached out toward her face.

"Wait! I've been leaking tears. You'd better use some magic before you burn yourself."

He laid a hand on her arm and she felt the familiar buzz of his magic wash through her. It was a little stronger than usual. Maybe because he was sleepy?

Grillby held her head in his hands and looked in her eye. After a minute, he shook his head.

"Nothing, huh? In that case..."

Lifting up into her toes, Rin kissed him.

***

It took Grillby a second to register what was happening. He'd been asleep when she knocked on his door and asked for help. When his brain made the connection, he returned the kiss with zeal. Normally he wouldn't be so intense, but here, in his half-awake stupor, all of his usual inhibitions were gone. He kissed her honestly, like he was hungry for her; like he needed her.

And he did want her. Grillby had been burning for her for weeks, but he always restrained himself. He reigned it back because humans didn't become attached to people as quickly as Monsters did. Grillby was falling for Rin, and he fell fast.

And if her kisses were any proof, she felt the same way! She had met his energy with a need of her own.

He was debating whether to pick her up and carry her to the bed or to the couch when a jarring sound shook him entirely awake: the doorbell.

***

Grillby has a doorbell?!? ARGH, the INTERRUPTIONS! Who could that be at this hour? (I’ll give you one guess. ;P )

Stay tuned for the next chapter!

Chapter Seven

Chapter Nine

#UndertoneFic #undertale #grillby #fanfic

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theolddarkmachine · 7 years

Text

Must Love Cats- Chapter 9

Levy hadn’t planned on being a pet sitter when she’d moved into the city. She also hadn’t planned on pet sitting for a sex god either, but here she was.

AKA the one where Levy is a pet sitter, Gajeel is her client, and Lily is the glue that binds them together.

WOO ONLY ONE DAY LATE! Lol I don’t even have an excuse this time, I just forgot yesterday was Wednesday. My bad. This one is a touch shorter. We’re actually coming up on the end of things! We got one chapter and an epilogue left! Anyway, thank you guys so much for reading and I hope you’ll stick around for when I kick off my next one after MLC. But if not, it really does mean a lot that you guys have put so much time into reading what I have to write. Y’all the true MVPs for sticking around and putting up with my inability to update on time lol Anyway, here’s chapter nine!

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“Levy, it has been three weeks,” Erza deadpanned, standing next to the couch with her arms crossed over her national parks polo. Levy stared up from her, a pair of hazel eyes tucked into a blanket cocoon with that movie on for the umpteenth time and a pint of melting ice cream on the side table. Her scarlet haired roommate understood that she was still upset about the incident with the kitty sex god, but it was just getting out of hand now. The roommates had all agreed not to say anything during that first week, opting to let Levy go through her grieving period. By the second week, Levy had claimed the couch as her own domain whenever she wasn’t working, and had watched Almost Famous more times than any one person should watch a movie in that amount of time, and turned their freezer into their own personal ice cream parlor. Even then, the friends had agreed to not push her, the group voting on having Juvia speak with her since she was the most soft spoken of the bunch when it came to matters of the heart. Now it was week three, and the trio had plans to stage an intervention, which had been a great plan until Erza had returned home after one of the hottest days of the year looking forward to the pint of strawberry shortcake ice cream she’d claimed in their ice cream collection, just to find the carton disposed of in the trash. And that, well, that was just the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Did the cat die?” Erza asked, a bit more forcefully than she’d intended, but there was no going back now. There was a gasp from Levy and Lucy’s room before the door flew open.

“Erza!” Lucy hissed, standing in their doorway. The bluenette who was at the heart of the matter just looked between the two, watching them warily with defeated, tired eyes. Erza ignored Lucy, eyes still trained on Levy and waiting for an answer.

“Did the cat die?” She asked again with what the rest of the apartment had dubbed her mom voice. Levy had never been on the receiving end, and if she hadn’t been so down about everything, she probably would have made a quip about how great of a mom Erza would be. Unfortunately, Levy was feeling down, and instead she just wrapped her blanket around her tighter.

“No,” she huffed into the fabric, turning away from her friend.

“And was kitty sex god mad about it?” The red head continued, still fixing Levy with that stern look. The answer was no. In fact, Gajeel had been great about the situation. After Levy had snuck out the next morning, leaving nothing but a note, he’d texted her to let her know Lily was okay and wondering how she was doing. All she’d said in return was “I’m fine” and she hadn’t responded to anything he’d sent since. Was she aware that she was acting cowardly in avoiding him? Very much so. She gave the cowardly lion a run for his money, but she couldn’t help it.

That entire first week after Lily had gotten sick, she’d been sick to her stomach waiting for the call from Makarov that Gajeel had asked for her to be terminated for what happened. In fact, that first week she’d been mourning the loss of her only income. After that first week, when she kept getting scheduled for work and hadn’t been fired, she’d started to wonder if Gajeel had something else up his sleeve. He’d continued to text her though, trying to start up conversation like they’d had while he was away, and she continued to not answer. If she did, it was with a one word answer, worried that if she continued into conversation, he would want to talk about what happened.

Levy had to face it, what ever it was they’d been doing and she’d been feeling had existed in a weird vacuum that came crashing down after Lily had gotten sick and he’d come home. Which was why, this third week, she was still in mourning.

“Well?” Erza prodded, her voice only lightening a little.

“Erza, c’mon, we agreed to talk to her together,” Lucy said lowly, still standing in their doorway.

“No.” The word was almost whispered but it was loud enough for them to hear it. Levy trained her eyes on the screen as Almost Famous continued to play.

“Then why are you letting yourself run away?” There it was. The question that all of her roommates had wanted to ask her, but wouldn’t. It was a question Levy often wondered, but allowed herself to dance around finding an answer. If she kept herself busy and focused on something else, she could pretend that she didn’t see what everyone could: That she was using this as an excuse to run away. If she was being honest, the city had broken her. Up until she’d found the job as a pet sitter, she’d faced so much rejection that she hadn’t even been sure she could continue staying in the city. Then she got this job, and continued to pedal her scripts around town, continuously facing more rejection. It was a hard area to break into, which she was never going to deny, but each time she was turned down was another chip into her self esteem. And now here was Gajeel, who she’d convinced herself she might have a chance with, when he was given a reason to reject her all the same. The thought was unbearable. So she did what anyone who was scared would do, and she ran, taking that chance away from him. Not that she could tell her friends that.

“I don’t know,” was all she mumbled into the blanket. She felt the tear roll down her cheek before she’d even realized she was crying.

“Oh Lev,” Lucy said, finally leaving the doorway and walking towards her, sitting next to her and wrapping her arms around her. She didn’t say a word, just let Levy cry as she hugged her. With a sigh, Erza sat on the other side of Levy and bumped her shoulder against her’s in what she hoped was a reassuring manner. The three of them sat together as Levy cried, as Almost Famous continued in the background.

***

Gajeel could take a hint. At least, that’s what he told himself as he stared at his laptop screen. He hadn’t really heard from Levy since Lily had been to the vet aside from an “I’m fine” and one word replies whenever he tried to start up conversation. So yes, he could take a hint. However, in the past three weeks he could get the image of her sleeping peacefully in his bed out of his mind. Almost as if he could send where Gajeel’s mind was, Lily hopped up onto the couch and rubbed himself against his owner’s arm. Purring softly, he continued to rub himself against his arm until Gajeel lifted it, allowing him to get into his lap.

“You miss her too, huh,” he said as he scratched the bombay’s ears. Though Lily’s fur was still stubbly around where his incision had been, he’d healed up nicely. Lisanna had said there had been no doubt in her mind that he would heal up well, and he hadn’t proven her wrong. In fact, Lily had been back to his old self within the week. That update had been the last one Levy had responded to. At least she knew he was okay. That had actually been what tipped him off to her radio silence being about something other than Lily. It may have started that way, but he recognized when someone ran away. He actually knew the feeling all too well. Running used to be one of his specialties. It was safer to run. At least, that’s how he’d felt until he’d seen a certain blue haired girl in his living room with his cat.

With one hand continuing to stroke Lily’s ears, he used his other to open his email and type up a quick message. Planting a kiss on top of his cat’s head, he pressed the send button.

“Let’s get our girl back.”

***

It had been a long afternoon. Once Juvia had returned home from work, Levy and her roommates had all curled up on the couch with three large pizzas and a romance movie marathon that topped all romance movie marathons. (“Anything to not see Almost Famous again,” Erza had joked, though Levy was certain it was only partially a joke.) They’d laughed, they’d cried, they’d stuffed their faces with food, but more importantly, they’d talked. While no one brought up Gajeel again, they’d caught up on life. Though they lived together, they hadn’t been able to just hangout together in quite some time.

It was now around midnight and they all had their respective jobs in the morning. Lucy was already tucked into bed, breathing heavily as she curled into a ball. Levy turned off the light and crawled into bed, grabbing her phone and opening up her email. A feeling of deja vu hit her as she found her schedule for the next day and opened it. Her hazel eyes scanned the visits, noting that it was pretty much the same schedule she’d had for the past couple days. All except one. The final one on the list, which caused her heart to to come to a complete halt before picking up in double time. Her final visit for the next day was Lily.

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#gajevy #Gajeel Redfox #Levy McGarden #Gajeel X Levy #Must Love Cats #fairy tail #fairy tail fanfiction #WE'RE GETTIN TO THE END Y'ALL

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