#Andrew barely knew what was going on only that everyone was turning on him because hes a monster and he was caught in the crush of people

[mail-posting]

so for one ideuudifjf i think. the concept of being ganged up on

theres nothing but panic as a group of people yell at you and also getting shoved into walls Really Fucking Hurts especially if you're like 7 so you know

also again???? the fact that both andrew and his mom were presumably attacked by farmers tools????? what the shit!!!!!! as well as thinking about all the broken bones he had to deal with as he never got the proper treatment (the days and weeks and months he spent crying to his mother who could feel nothing but sorry that he has to go through this)

similarly. while the whole drowning thing was kind of decided already i think it'd be fucked up if andrew was literally torn away from her. maybe andrew has to see her get knocked to the ground when she's trying to pull him away from their hands as he screams and cries and frantically tries to get back to her because she's being hurt and he knows he cant be alone with the townspeople. i think it would be fucked up if he had to hear her agonized screaming just before he was thrown into the lake. i think it'd be fucked up if that was the first and only time he'd seen her cry so fiercely as she hugged him to her chest tighter than she ever had before once he was out of the water

GOD

[hunnysnoops]

˗ˋ𝕎𝕙𝕚𝕥𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕥𝕙 𝕋𝕖𝕖𝕟𝕤ˊ˗

Chapter Seven: You Are Going to Hate This

Kyle Broflovski x fem reader

Blackout and I need to sit and I wrote this, but it don't mean shit. Why can't I be like you? I miss you and I let you down and your voice is the perfect sound. Why can't I be so cool?

Also available on Ao3 and Wattpad!

Premise: No one thought the school lock-in would go well, they just didn’t know poorly it would play out.

Warnings: mentions of blood and injury / mentions of disease / crude language and humour

MASTERLIST

There wasn't much you had been looking forward to about the school lock-in, the only thing that had slightly piqued your interest was competition. While various activities were being hosted in numerous classrooms, you were prepping yourself for the volleyball tournament in the gym.

A large sum of your friends were on the volleyball team and were also warming up. They had all paired up with each other and as you arrived at the school late, everyone already had a partner, leaving you with Andrew who was talking himself up but didn't have the skills to match.

"What's straight edge?" Annie asks from next to you where she spikes the ball across the net to Nichole, her eyebrows furrowing as she reads your shirt "You're not straight."

"No, it's like a punk movement from the eighties that was against drinking and smoking," You toss the ball high into the air and send it over the net with a satisfying smack. Andrew fumbles the return, the ball bouncing off his forearms and rolling away. He jogs after it, muttering an apology.

"So why are you wearing that?" She's even more confused at the answer. You were wearing a black loose T-shirt made of soft, high-quality cotton. The front of the shirt prominently features a bold white 'X' across the chest, above the 'X' where the words 'STRAIGHT EDGE' in bold lettering. The design includes a small graphic of a broken cigarette and an overturned bottle beneath the text. The back of the T-shirt has a minimalist design with the phrase 'LIVE CLEAN'. Anyone who knew you well had been casting you questioning glances.

"It's a thing for my dad's work, he asked if I could wear it and I said yeah," Your dad worked at a non-profit youth center and that week they were promoting drug abstinence. Weston was also given a t-shirt though he threw it at the back of his closet where it would never see the light again.

"But you aren't actually quitting smoking?"

"No, he was just so excited about it and I felt really bad because no one wanted to wear these goofy ass shirts." You serve the ball again, but Andrew misses the return once more, the ball sailing past him and thudding against the gym floor. A small knot of frustration begins to form in your chest.

"Oh my god, you're learning empathy," Annie turns her gaze back to Nichole, when the ball is headed for her, she braces her arms and bumps it perfectly back over the net.

Everyone else participating in the tournament seemed to have no issues with their partners while they practiced rallies. You take a deep breath and serve again, but this time the ball barely grazes his fingertips before hitting the ground. "Do something, bitch!" You throw your hands out, glaring at Andrew.

"Okay, never mind," Annie sucks a breath through her teeth, taking back the words she said just moments prior. She had been wearing her pink pyjama shorts with little daisies on them and a white tank top, curly hair pinned back into a French braid. Almost all of the students had arrived in their pyjamas which was the majority of some form of flannel pants and a t-shirt.

Despite your efforts to stay calm, Andrew's repeated fumbles and missed returns chip away at your composure. Each errant ball hits the gym floor with a dull thud, amplifying your growing irritation. "Andrew, get your balls in order."

"Jesus, it's not that easy," He tosses the ball up, smacking it in a feeble attempt. His hand lands on the top and sends the ball flying below the net.

"You're supposed to hit it over," You walk over to pick up the ball. Earlier when you had been looking for a partner Andrew couldn't stop talking about how good he was at volleyball but now that you were seeing him in action, you wanted to wrap your hands around his throat or maybe spike his head over the net instead of the ball.

The bandage over your nose was finally gone and the bruising was almost gone completely, all that was left was a little nick on your nose. Without the painkillers making you lethargic, you were back to being hostile.

He rolls the ball back over to you after missing another perfect serve. You move slowly to make sure he's ready for the next pass. You take a deep breath, focusing your energy on the perfect serve. You toss the ball high, your eyes following its arc. As it descends, you leap slightly, making contact with a resounding thud. The ball grazes over the net in a graceful, powerful trajectory, spinning slightly as it cuts through the air.

It's the kind of serve that you know is perfect the moment you hit it.

Instead of moving to meet the ball, Andrew freezes. His eyes widen in a moment of panic, his feet glued to the spot. The ball hurtles past him, as he shrugs away from it. You watch as the ball lands just past him with a thump. "I want a new partner, Andrew fucking sucks."

"Well, you aren't giving me much to work with here," He shoots back.

Slowly, your head turns to look at him "The only thing I would give you is a handful of antidepressants so no one else has to put up with your bitching," You say, pointedly "Get out of here."

"Eat shit and die," He stuck up his middle finger.

"Eat shit and live, Andrew," you returned the gesture, dropping the volleyball and hurryingly scattering to the whiteboard that held every pair's names. With your forearm, you wipe Andrew's name off and think of another replacement to fill the blank space. You glance around the gym seeing Stan on the bleachers and immediately mark down a name with the pink pen.

He was locked in on watching his girlfriend, he sat with Jimmy, the two chatting amongst themselves until you strolled up at record pace "Hi?"

"Hey," you smile, hands on your hips.

"W-what's with the sh-shi shirt?" Jimmy was the fifth person to question the straight-edge shirt laid over your torso.

"Where's Kyle?" You ask abruptly, ignoring the question.

"I'm pretty sure he's in Mr Dubois's classroom," Stan had been wearing thick grey sweatpants and a hoodie layered over a long sleeve despite the warm weather. You could only imagine he was suffocating under there "Why?"

"Thanks," You look towards the large digital clock mounted above the entrance of the gym, ten minutes until the tournament starts.

You sprint out of the gym, your footsteps echoing in the deserted hallway. The fluorescent lights overhead buzz softly as you race past the rows of lockers and closed classroom doors. You dart around a corner, narrowly avoiding a collision with a group of students heading toward the gym.

Pulling your phone from your pocket, you dig around for his number while rushing through the hallway.

New Message-Kyle Broflovski

You: Mf where r u??????????????

You: This is super urgent

You: Right hand to god

You: I'm gonna keel haul you

You read each number carved into the plaques on the doors, searching for room 116 where Mr Dubois taught French. In almost every room there was a different group of kids doing different activities, you pass the drama room where people are huddled up in the dark and watching movies.

The art room had of course been doing pottery and miscellaneous forms of art where everyone had their headphones stuck in their ears and didn't utter a word to anyone else in the room. There were always the kids bumming around in stairwells and corners, scrolling on their phones or hitting their vapes. There was an absurd lack of chaperones.

Finally, you reached classroom 116 where the door was decorated in prints of the French and Canadian flags as Mr. Dubois hailed from Quebec and would never let you hear the end of it if you asked.

Prying the door open, you were slightly taken aback by the sight. You had anticipated it would be a couple of guys sitting around and doing nothing in particular but you were met with the sight of six desks pushed together in the center of the class to form one table and eight guys pulled around it in chairs. They all had a plethora of sheets and colourful dice lying between them.

No one noticed you come in, they were deep in a game of Dungeons and Dragons and chatting amongst themselves. Butters noticed eyes on the back of his head and turned to face you, a smile on his face "Hey," He was one of the few people who turned up in a matching pyjama set, it was light blue and satin almost matching the stark paleness of his eyes "We already started but you can join if you want."

"No, she can't," Cartman countered immediately, he was taking the role of dungeon master. He turns his attention from Butters to you "You can't play."

"I don't wanna play your gay-ass game," You wrinkle your nose "Where's Kyle? Stan said he was in here."

Glancing around at the guys sitting down at the makeshift table, there wasn't even a lock of ginger hair in sight. "Oh, he went to the bathroom," Butters said "So you're not playing?"

"No, I'm not," You say, turning and leaving the door ajar behind you while you continue your way down the hallway once again.

For a beat you stand outside of the boy's bathroom and debate whether or not to enter, glancing around to make sure no one can see you. You rush into the bathroom, slipping through the door and immediately hearing the faint sound of music. You follow the noise, rounding the corner to find Kyle standing in front of the mirror, phone in hand, filming himself lipsyncing.

The very second you laid eyes on the scene before you, you erupted in laughter like a hyena. Eyes wide and mouth agape, Tears streamed down her cheeks, and she gasped for breath between fits of laughter. "What are you doing in here?" Kyle quickly turned his phone off, tucking it into his pocket while heat rose to his face.

"Are you making a thirst-" You couldn't even finish your sentence before breaking into giggles again. Still laughing uncontrollably, you stumbled backward, your legs giving way beneath you. You reached out instinctively, hand grasping the edge of the bathroom counter to steady yourself. Your body shook with laughter, and you leaned heavily against the counter, your face flushed and eyes sparkling with mirth.

"It's not that funny," Kyle said with a straight face.

Your hand moved to clutch your stomach where your ribs were beginning to hurt from laughing so hard, a single tear spilled from your eye. "Can I watch?" You say between chuckles.

"Fuck off," he muttered under his breath and moved to push past you.

You quickly straighten up, rushing to block the door "Woah, woah, woah."

"What do you want?"

"Let's just talk for a second," Slowly you put your hands out in front of you as carefully as a bullfighter would.

"You're in the boy's bathroom," He points out.

"What? Would you rather talk in the girls?" You retort and the annoyance is clear across his face as he reaches past you for the handle but you put your hands on his chest in an attempt to keep him away from it "Okay, sorry. My volleyball partner bailed last minute," You lied, trying to make yourself sound as convincing as possible "And the tournament starts in like, five minutes. Can you fill in?"

"No," His body language was slightly tense, his shoulders hunching forward as if trying to shrink away.

"What?" You sound genuinely shocked "Why?"

"Why would I want to play volleyball for two hours?"

"Because it's with me," You try for a sweet smile but it comes off insincere. You could tell Kyle wasn't buying it as his face remained unmoved and unimpressed "Okay, well, why would you want to play DnD for like eight hours?"

"Oh my god," He turns away from you, running one hand through curly locks while he does a small pace before stopping to face you once more. Kyle hadn't anticipated making a fool of himself in front of you "No."

"Please?" You clasp your hands together like it's going to do something.

"You're friends with everyone on the volleyball team, ask one of them."

"I did and they have partners and I already put your name down to play," you suck a sharp breath through your teeth.

"Just find someone else," He dismisses and you were suddenly wishing you had knocked and avoided embarrassing him entirely. Not only was he naturally athletic but part of you just wanted to be partners with him.

"I'm actually really sorry for laughing at you, I'm learning empathy."

"You don't learn empathy, it's something you're born with."

"I'm defying the norms," You say "I swear to god I will never laugh at you again. You're right, it wasn't even that funny just a little, not a lot."

"Christ," He mutters, one hand pinching his nose bridge.

"You're the only person I trust to actually give it a shot. Please, Kyle?"

Kyle presses his lips into a thin line, rubbing the back of his neck. You can see the gears turning in his head. All he does for a minute is look at you with narrowing eyes before he finally speaks again "Okay, sure."

"Thanks," You smile brightly, opening the bathroom door and ushering Kyle out.

"When does it start?"

"Like three minutes," You shrug.

The two of you pass the door of Mr. Dubois's classroom where Cartman glares at you and Kyle "Kyle, get back here." Cartman pushes himself from his chair "We're in the middle of a campaign!"

"I don't fucking care!" You call back. When you notice Kyle pauses for the briefest moment to look into the room, you grab his wrist and pull him along. He seems a little taken aback but doesn't argue as you drag him through the hall even though he's perfectly capable of finding the gym without contact with you.

"Oh my god," Cartman utters, sitting himself back in his chair, a look of disbelief on his face. "First we lost Stan, now Kyle."

"And Kenny," Butters adds.

"And Kinny," Cartman repeats in solidarity.

"Are you straight edge now?" Kyle furrows his eyebrows as he reads the back of your t-shirt.

"No. God, why does everyone keep asking that?"

"Maybe because you're wearing a straight-edge shirt." He states the obvious.

"Oh shit, yeah," you turn back to briefly to face Kyle and crack a small smile.

You step onto the polished gym floor, the bright lights overhead casting a warm glow that reflects off the glossy surface. The chatter and laughter of other students echoed through the room.

The second you were noticed you were met with odd glances like you were dragging a corpse behind you. Everyone was already beginning to take their places for the tournament or finding a spot on the bleachers "Shit, hurry up, Goliath."

"Goliath?" He narrows his eyes at you as you begin to walk away.

"Dude, just get over here,"

Stan quirks an eyebrow, watching the two of you settle in the center of a court while Coach Dawsey barks out the rules of the tournament. "Alright, everyone, listen up!" Coach Dawsey's voice booms across the gym through the crackly microphone, immediately silencing the chatter. "Before we get started, I want to make sure everyone understands the rules for tonight's lock-in volleyball tournament."

You glance over at Kyle, who's focused on trying to decode whatever Stan is mouthing to him, his eyebrows are drawn in. You nudge him lightly, and he straightens up, shaking his head at Stan and turning his attention to the coach.

"First and foremost," Coach continues, "This is a friendly competition. Sportsmanship is key. No trash-talking or unsportsmanlike conduct will be tolerated unless I can't hear it. Understood?"

A chorus of "Yes, Coach" echoes around the gym.

"Good. Each match will be played to ten points, win by two. We're using rally scoring, so a point is scored on every serve. You all know your positions, but remember to rotate clockwise after winning the serve."

Kyle nudges you back, whispering, "You got all that?"

You shoot him a look but can't suppress a small smile. Coach Thompson's eyes narrow in on the two of you, and you quickly return your attention to him.

"Communication is crucial," Coach emphasizes. "Call for the ball, and make sure you cover your zones. Stay alert and work as a team."

You nod, glancing around at your teammates. Their faces reflect a mixture of determination and nerves, but there's also a spark of excitement. You catch Kyle's eye again, and this time he gives you a serious nod, signalling that he's ready to contribute.

"Lastly," Coach Dawsey says, "Remember to have fun. This is about building teamwork and enjoying the game as well as winning, which is of the utmost importance. So erm, do your best out there."

With that, Coach blows the whistle, signalling the start of the tournament. Each of the four courts is split in two with two teams in each of the half courts. From the other side of the net Heather and Jenny stand, Jenny regards you with narrowed eyes "Isn't Andrew your partner?"

"What the fuck, no," You huff a laugh like the accusation was ridiculous. Jenny looks at the bracket scrawled across the whiteboard for confirmation.

The referee signals the start of the match, and the first serve comes sailing over the net from the opposing team. You spring into action, bumping the ball up to Kyle, who's already moving into position.

"Kyle, yours!" you shout, setting the ball perfectly.

Kyle leaps into the air, his form impeccable, and smashes the ball over the net. It hits the ground just inside the line, scoring the first point for your team. In truth, you hadn't expected him to be so good, the last time you played volleyball with him, you were on a family camping trip and in a continuous loop of trying to beat each other. You can't help but grin.

"Nice spike," you say as Kyle jogs back.

"Thanks, Captain," he replies, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

The game quickly turns intense. Heather and Jenny are good, but you and Kyle find a rhythm, communicating effectively and covering the court with dexterity. Kyle's spikes are powerful and precise, while your sets and saves keep the ball in play.

"Cover left!" you call as the ball comes over the net.

Kyle dives, saving it just before it hits the ground, and you quickly set it up for another attack. The back-and-forth rallies are exhilarating, each point hard-earned. Despite the competitive edge, there's a surprising synergy between you and Kyle.

As the score nears the winning point, tension mounts. It's 14-13, and you need one more point to secure the win. The opposing team serves, and the ball comes at you fast. You manage a perfect pass to Kyle.

"Yours!" you shout, adrenaline pumping.

Kyle takes to the air, his spike aimed with an almost lethal precision. The ball slams down on the opponent's side, untouched. The final point is yours. A few of your friends on the bleachers give you little cheers as the whistle blows, signalling the end of the match.

You turn to Kyle, breathless but elated. "Good shit, man."

"Thanks," He grins.

With the thrill of your first win still buzzing, you and Kyle barely have time to catch your breath before the second match is called. The gym seems even more charged now, the energy from the first game amplifying the anticipation for what's to come.

Coach Dawsey gives you both a thumbs-up from the sidelines as you step onto the court for your next match. This time, you were against Jason and Daniel. You knew Daniel was on the volleyball team, you had seen him a handful of times and he was good but you couldn't speak for Jason who seemed much more out of place than his friend. You glance at Kyle, who glances back at you.

"You good?" you ask, a competitive gleam in your eye.

Kyle gives you a little thumbs up, one hand resting on his hip. The two of you watch as your names are moved up the brackets on the whiteboard while Heather and Jenny's get erased.

The referee blows the whistle, and the game begins. The first serve from the opposing team rockets over the net. You move quickly, receiving the ball and passing it to Kyle. He leaps and spikes it down hard, but the other team manages a quick save, returning the ball with a strong hit.

"Got it!" you call, diving to keep the ball in play. You manage to pass it back to Kyle, who sets up for another spike. This time, the ball hits the ground just inside the line, scoring the first point for your team.

The match is fast-paced, the ball flying back and forth as both teams fight for dominance. You dig, set, and spike with precision, each point driving you a little more.

At one point, the score is tied at 8-8, and the tension is palpable. The opposing team serves, and you receive the ball, setting it perfectly for Kyle. He slams it over the net, but the other team is ready, sending it back with equal force.

You dive to save it, barely managing to keep it in play. "Kyle, heads up!" you shout, scrambling to your feet.

Kyle jumps, twisting in mid-air to adjust his spike. The ball flies over the net, too quickly for the opponents to react. It hits the floor. This was the part of Kyle that you admired, the competitive nature and the drive, on occasion the hot-headed insults even though you spat them right back at him.

As the match progresses, you both dig deep, pushing through the fatigue. The score inches up, point by point, each one harder to earn than the last. Daniel is relentless, but so are you and Kyle.

Finally, it's match point. The score is 14-13, and you have the serve. You take a deep breath, focusing on the target. The ball leaves your hand, sailing over the net. The opponents scramble to return it, but Kyle is already in position.

He jumps high, timing his spike perfectly. The ball slams into the floor on the other side of the net, and for a moment, there's stunned silence. You turn to Kyle, a huge grin on your face, almost vibrating with excitement.

For a brief moment, he catches himself smiling at you, the thought that an act as simple as hitting a ball over a net would make you so happy when he had seen you surrounded by everyone you've ever known with a cake in front of you and still frown.

"Got a couple more rounds in you?" You ask.

"What did you just say?"

When the match ended you had settled back into your separate groups on the bleachers and pretended that you weren't sneaking glances at his little group while you were looking at Wendy. What had really been grating you was that the doors of the school had been locked as per the name of the event, this meant that there wasn't anywhere to smoke without getting caught and you were increasingly growing desperate for that nicotine buzz, so much so that you had chewed you lip until the taste of iron flooded your mouth.

"You don't like Miles anymore?" Nichole looks towards Lola with furrowed eyebrows. Last week she wouldn't stop talking about him.

"What?" This was news to Annie "Why?"

Lola shrugs "Because he's weird, he's an asshole."

"What did he do?" Heidi asked. Everyone paid their full attention to Lola who seemed to squirm a little more with every pair of eyes on her.

"Nothing, he's just, I dunno- he's a dick."

You and Red share a look, this was code for Lola liked him a lot and he didn't return the feelings.

"Where did Wendy go?" You ask abruptly, noticing the disappearance of the girl and glancing around the gym for her.

Nellie sucks a sharp breath through her teeth, quickly looking to Lola for unspoken confirmation if she should say or not "She's with Bebe and Jenny."

"Oh, okay," You say and silence falls over the group, waiting for a bigger reaction. "I don't really care."

"It's okay," Annie nods and places a hand on your shoulder.

"Yeah, I know?"

"Yeah," Lola draws out slowly.

"Um," You brush Annie's gentle hand off and push yourself to your feet "I need to ask Kenny something, I'll be right back."

Feeling more awkward than you should've, you walked over to the group of boys enamoured in what was seemingly a deep discussion until you heard a snippet of the conversation "You're saying that if you could only eat one animal for the rest of your life it would be fish?" Kenny asks with quirked eyebrows and a slightly wrinkled nose.

"Yeah," Kyle says with a knit brow, not understanding why the boys seemed so disapproving.

"Dude, he said animal not sea creature," Cartman says bluntly.

"A fish is an animal."

"Don't start," Cartman's voice is accusatory, you can see him getting riled up already.

"I'm not starting, a fish is an animal," Kyle retorts.

"I'm talking animal-animal."

"And I'm saying fish-fish."

"That's like saying ant, that's not an animal." His face is flushed a stark contrast to the pale, blindingly bright lights overhead.

"Ants are animals, they're arthropods," Kyle's voice raises just the slightest.

Cartman huffs laugh "No they are not, fish and ants are not animals that's like saying bugs and insects are animals."

"Cartman, you are in AP biology," Tolkien throws in as a reminder.

"Yeah, that's how I know what I'm talking about."

"We are in the same class," Kyle says slowly to be sure that it sinks in.

"At least one of us was paying attention."

"A fish is an animal."

"Yeah alright buddy, you don't go to the zoo and see fish hanging around. There aren't zoo fishes."

"There's actually so many fish at zoos-

"There's fish zoos?" Cydle abruptly cuts him off, voice raising "You go to fish zoos?"

Kyle regains himself "There's so many fish at zoos that they have their own attraction called an aquarium."

Cartman shakes his head "Nope, not the same thing, that's for sharks and shit."

"Yeah, for fish."

"A shark is not a fish," Cartman starts laughing. "And an animal is something with paws and shit."

"Is a lizard an animal?"

"No, it's an insect."

"Jesus Christ," You mutter "Cartman, what's a reptile?"

"What's a human?" Cylde asks "Are we animals?

"They are literally classified as Cartilaginous fishes," Kyle ignore Cylde, his jaw is clenched tight and it's easy to tell that such an idiotic argument is grinding at his skull.

"Define fish," Cartman leans back and crosses his arms, waiting for the answer.

"You did not just say that," Kyle deadpans.

"Define fish," He says again.

"You define fish," Kyle almost spits with how fast he's speaking.

"Aquatic."

"Aquatic what?!”

"Aquatic creatures."

"So by your definition, fish are aquatic creatures but a shark isn't a fish?" Kyle asks. The vein in his forehead became so prominent you thought it might burst.

"Please tell me how a shark is a fish," Cartman tilts himself forward, closer to Kyle "Tell me what a fish is."

"They're aquatic vertebrate animals that have gills but lack limbs."

"So I was right."

"No, you aren't, lobsters are aquatic creatures, do you think they're fish?" Kyle asks and Cartman falls silent "Cartman, lobsters are not fish."

"Then what are they?"

"They're a sub-group called decapoda in the malacostracans class but they also classify as phylum Arthropoda."

"I thought they were Crustacea?" Stan chimes in for the first time since you came over.

"They are," Kyle glances back at him then to you then back to Cartman.

"So then how are they all that other stuff you just said?" Cartman asks this like he's finally got Kyle in a corner.

"Because animals are classified under taxonomic categories."

"What is that?"

"Oh my fucking god," Kyle runs his hands down his face.

"Hey, Ken," You put one hand on his bicep and leaned in to whisper into his ear "Do you have any Zyn?"

He turns to face you, looking down at your choice of clothing "There is no way you're in a straight-edge shirt and you're asking me for Zyn."

"Do you though?" With a sly smile, you straightened your posture.

He ran a hand through his shaggy blonde hair, cut into a mullet "Pretty sure I left it in my car,"

"Fuck," Your face drops immediately, unintentionally forming into something of a pout for the first time in what must've been years.

"If you come with me we can grab it."

"Erm, I'm pretty sure all of the doors are bolted closed." You raise a brow, hand still absentmindedly resting on his arm.

"Don't worry about it," He waves you off. "But what do I get in return?"

"How about my undying gratitude?" You offered, your tone laced with mock seriousness.

"Oh, word?" He cracks a grin "I'll be back in a minute," Kenny addresses the group.

"Cool," Stan doesn't even look up at him but Kyle's eyes are trained on the way your fingers trail Kenny's arm, the touch light but lingering as you begin to walk away.

Kenny's beaten-up sneakers squeaked as the two of you crossed the polished hardwood floors of the gym and made your way into the somehow even brighter hallway "So what are your plans for the summer?"

"Mostly working I guess, I haven't made any plans so I guess I'll just figure it out as I go." You really hadn't thought about it. You knew that your parents planned a trip to Mexico to which you and Weston were not invited so the only thing that had come close to a plan in your mind was the thought crossing that you would take Weston on a camping trip while your parents were away.

"Same over here," He shoves his hands into the pockets of his hoodie "You still working at that restaurant?"

"Yeah, you still working at that gas station?" It had been a hot minute since the last time you had really talked to Kenny and with that simple question, you were beginning to feel guilt pile onto your shoulders.

"Yup, been thinking about picking up a second job for the summer, got nothing better to do."

"Oh, you should apply at my work, I know we're hiring prep and dishwashers," You peeped up. It would make your summer just a little better if you got to work with Kenny. Even if you weren't anywhere near to how close you used to be, it might make those tiring serving shifts covered in steak sauce, garlic butter, and tears just a little better.

"For real? Maybe I will."

You had always thought Kenny was handsome in a scrappy way like a stray dog, it was his disjointed manner that made him so endearing. "So how are we leaving the school?"

He tilted his head, gesturing for you to turn down the hallways with him "There's an emergency entrance in the woodshop but you need to stay by the door and keep it open because it'll lock me out."

"Sweet," You smile up at him, the thought of a nicotine pouch resting on your gums brought you a little bit closer to satisfaction. "We should hang out soon, it's been a while."

"Jeez, I guess it has, a month is kinda long for us or has it been longer."

"I dunno, I lost track," You narrow your eyes, trying to think of the last time you had been with him one-on-one.

He acknowledges this with a hum "There's something I had to grab from my car at some point tonight anyways so this kinda works out."

"What is it?"

"You'll see," He shrugs.

"Kenny, what is it?" Your stomach drops a little bit. Whenever he was cryptic like this you knew there was something in the works within his brain.

"Don't worry," Kenny brushes you off, seemingly unbothered as he usually was.

"Dude, I'm worried."

"Okay, well I think the Zyn will help you with that," He jiggles the handle to the wood shop and holds it open for you.

Immediately you're greeted with the smell of woodchips and little particles of sawdust finding their way into your eyes, you clamp them shut and squeeze until the burning goes away. There isn't a single person inside, you didn't really expect the dusty woodshop to be a popular place to hang out during a lock-in.

"Don't make this a regular thing, I don't wanna see you abusing nicotine."

"I love nicotine, I would never abuse it," You reach for the phone in your pocket to turn on the flash. You wanted to be as discreet as possible, Kenny quietly shut the door behind the both of you.

The woodshop was eery in the darkness, it felt like you were in a horror movie where something would crawl out from beneath the table saw and maul you into a bloody mass of flesh pulsing on the floor.

"This shit is creepy," Kenny muttered, voicing your thoughts.

"I fucking know," You answer, "You think this is where Jigsaw makes his death traps?"

"Oh, definitely."

Kenny had a hand on your back to guide you to the exit door after you had almost knocked over a shelf of students' unfinished projects. Finally, you saw the exit sign hanging above a grey door, illuminated by your flash.

"Okay, just hold the door open but if anyone comes in, shut it and text me when they leave," Kenny yanks it open and the cold air hits you, forcing a shiver out of you.

"Just be quick, please," You take a spot standing in front of the heavy door while you watch Kenny jog away and disappear into the darkness. Kenny's car was what was referred to as a shit box. Every moment you spent in it you just kept thinking 'Okay, now it's going to give out' but it proved you wrong by pushing through with every rusted turn of the wheels.

His car was at the front of the school while you were stationed beside it, arms hugging yourself as the straight-edge t-shirt wasn't helping much to protect you from the cool night that hung on the other side of the doorframe.

Every passing second that Kenny was out of sight you grew just a little more concerned, constantly glancing back at the door of the woodshop. All of the blades and intricate machines seemed menacing when the only light that gleamed off the razor-sharp edges came from your phone.

"Keep the door open!" You hear Kenny's voice off in the distance.

You squint at the dark silhouette that is coming towards you full throttle with something being carried in front of him "Ken, what is that?" As his figure gets closer you can see the item he's holding is moving and squirming in his grip "What the fuck is that?"

The second Kenny steps foot inside you back away from him and let the door lock. He has a huge smile on his face while holding a raccoon underneath its armpits, his bottom half swaying slightly with every movement.

"That was the thing you had in your car?!" You can't help but shout, face contorted in horror at how easy-going Kenny was about holding a wild animal.

He grins mischievously. "Thought it'd be funny to let this little guy have a stroll, he's chill, he'll probably just walk around. Just a harmless prank."

Before you can protest, he loses his grip, and the raccoon drops to the ground with a thud. For a split second, it looks stunned. Then it bares its teeth, hissing angrily. Panic sets in as the raccoon charges toward you both.

"Fuck!" You shot away, weaving through the rows of workbenches and tools, careless not to knock anything over. You kept looking back at the feral animal charging you, bumping down projects and bottles of wood-blinding glue.

It was moments like these when you were glad that you ran track, not that you had ever been pursued by a feral animal before. You had started track initially to be sure you could run in a zombie apocalypse scenario and this was similar enough.

You throw the door to the woodshop open, Kenny follows behind you, regret obvious on his face. The hallways echo with the sound of your footsteps and the angry chittering of the raccoon. You glance back to see it gaining on you, its eyes glinting in the dim light.

Kenny splits down another hallway while you keep running straight, the raccoon chooses to follow you. There isn't anyone in the halls, all you can hear is the chatter within the classrooms. While you were sure you could fight a raccoon, you didn't want to risk the chance that it could bite you and you would forever be the girl who got rabies from a raccoon.

Kyle casually walks down the hallway in your direction, waving when he spots you "Why are you running?"

"Fucking run!" You shout gesturing for him to move in the other direction. He doesn't fight you on this, instead running next to you, trying to decode why you were frantically shifting your gaze all over the place.

"What's going on?" He asks, confusion clear across his face.

You ignore him, eyes catching on a classroom door which is slightly ajar, you snatch his hand and make a B-line for the class, yanking him in after you and shutting the door. You run your hands down your face, chest rising and falling with every shaky breath.

"Is there a shooter?"

"No," you say "It's a raccoon."

Any worry on his face drops immediately "Be serious for a minute."

"I'm so serious Kyle and that thing is insane, it's out for blood."

"Did it bite you or something?"

You yank out a chair from beneath a desk and plop yourself down in it "No and thank god." A scream sounds from somewhere down the hallway and Kyle's eyes widen "We gotta let them fend for themselves, don't be a hero."

"I wasn't planning on breaking any doors down and fighting a raccoon," He retorts "How did it even get inside?"

"Pfft, I wouldn't know man," You shake your head, making forceful eye contact.

"You let it in?"

"Kenny did."

"Mother fucker," he mutters. "That asshole."

"It's really not that big of a deal," You cross your arms and lean back in the chair, quick to defend Kenny even though you weren't thrilled about a wild animal set loose in the school you would pretend to be for his sake.

Kyle turns to face, jaw clenching tightly and you already regret your words "It's not that big of a deal?"

"Yeah," You say, firmly "It's really not."

His voice steadies, the rise of anger ringing clear in his tone  "Do you have any idea how many people could be hurt because of this?"

"It's fucking funny, Kyle," You exasperate, standing up from the chair and taking a stride toward him.

"How is this funny?"

"It's a raccoon that terrorizes a school, how is that not funny?"

"What if it had rabies?" 

"Kyle, that's life. Sometimes a raccoon is gonna break into a school and attack teenagers," You try to sound nonchalant but there's agitation clinging to your words "Life ain't all cookies and cream, lil fella."

"Do not ever call me lil fella."

"Sorry, lil fella," You shrug.

"Don't act like you weren't shaking in fear two minutes ago."

"I was and two minutes later it's hilarious, I would be laughing my ass off right now if you weren't about to punch a wall."

"I'm not going to punch a wall," Kyle sneered. 

"Are you gonna make a TikTok about it then?" 

"Jesus fucking Christ," He uttered looking away from you. 

"Acting like you've never done stupid shit before," You spit, moving closer until you're inches away from him. You felt that familiar surge of anger catching fire in your lungs, one that was sure to never be smothered "Pulling the fire alarm, punching Stan, taping porno magazines on Mr. Garrison's car-

"Those were ages ago," He cuts you off "At least some of us actually grew up."

"It's a fucking raccoon!" You throw your hands up in the air "And you're seventeen, you should think this is funny because it is and one day you're going to be an old wrinkly boney fuck with rotten testicles and wish that you revelled in this a little more."

"You aren't listening," His voice raises. Every few moments, he runs a hand through his hair in a quick, jerky motion, adding to the sense of barely contained rage.

He was right, you weren't listening. Kyle was hastily spitting out words while you just stared at him like his words were muffled to your ears. His arms are crossed tightly over his chest, muscles tensed with barely contained frustration. His brows are furrowed deeply, casting a shadow over his narrowed eyes that stay trained on your face. His jaw is clenched so tightly that a muscle twitches in his cheek, and his lips are pressed into a thin, hard line.

The sleeves of his hoodie are rolled up and you can see the veins and the muscles flexing. His face was almost flushed red with rage, for the first time you had noticed the light dusting of freckles spread over his nose. You remembered him having them as a kid, they came around in the summer when he would spend hours in the sports court and chasing his friends through the woods. His face was spotted like a fawn, though they dwindled with age they always got dark after he bathed in sunlight. 

"What?" He snaps, breaking your immersion "Are you going to say something?"

"Your freckles are coming in."

"What?" His eyebrows draw together even further. "What are you-

He is cut off by a sudden, sound of a heavy thump and metal hitting the linoleum and clattering in its place. You turn towards the sound and see that the vent covering has fallen off and something dark scuttles across the ground, catching only glimpses of it between rows and rows of desks. "Holy shit, it found me!" Without warning, the raccoon crashes against a desk with a ferocious growl, causing you to scream. Acting purely on instinct, you leap towards Kyle, wrapping your arms around him in a desperate bid for safety. His eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, his anger is replaced by shock as he catches you. "What the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck."

"What are you doing?" he exclaims, but his voice is less harsh than before, more surprised than angry though the irritation still hangs in his tone.

"I don't want to look at it," You squeeze your eyes shut and bury your face into Kyle's collarbone. "This is gonna be really funny in a week but I'm actually really fucking scared right now."

Kyle has one protective arm over your midriff as he leans forward the slightest to look at the raccoon that stands between the pair of you and the door. The raccoon hisses and bares its teeth at you, slobber foaming around its mouth "It has rabies," He says, backing away "It actually has rabies."

"Fuck!" You shout, breaking away from Kyle and trying to scramble onto a desk, so panicked your legs keep slipping until Kyle lifts you by your waist until your feet are flat on the surface and hops on a desk himself. "What the fuck do we do?"

The raccoon circled around the door, staggering like it had just drunk a forty. You fumbled for your phone in your pocket, looking up what to do when you encounter an animal with rabies. "What are you doing?"

"Okay, um, Reddit says to shoot it dead, bag it, and burn it," you look over at Kyle.

"Do you have a gun in your pocket?" He says with an antsy sarcasm.

"No."

"Well, that's super helpful, thank you," His face flat and voice mocking. 

"Not the time to be an asshole," As the raccoon snarls and regains its footing, you fumble for your phone, your hands shaking. "I'm calling the police," you tell Kyle, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and adrenaline.

Kyle nods, his eyes never leaving the raccoon. "Fucking hurry."

With trembling fingers, you dial 911, praying for a quick response. The raccoon begins to inch closer, its eyes locked onto you. "911, what's your emergency?" comes the operator's voice.

"We're trapped in a classroom with a rabid raccoon at Park County High," you say, your voice cracking. "It's really fucking gross looking like it's covered in mud and it had matted fur and shit." You shudder as it nears you "And it's pretty fucking fat, it jiggles when it walks."

"Okay, ma'am, I need you to stay calm," the operator replies, her voice steady and professional. "Can you confirm your location one more time?"

"Park County High, room 112," You wrinkle your nose as it begins to sniff up the desk you standing on "Its hands are dirty as shit, probably from being greedy and eating too much."

The operator starts to ask for details, but the raccoon lunges forward, coming dangerously close. Panic surges through you. Without thinking, you scream and hurl your phone at the animal. The device smacks the raccoon on the head, causing it to stumble and momentarily back off. Upon impact, your phone shatter, the screen glitching with colour before going black completely. 

The raccoon stumbles for a second before hissing and lunging at your ankles again. You retract your feet, trying not to tip onto the ground. You can tell the raccoon is charging up to attempt another jump onto the desk, you leap down in a moment of panic and kick the desk into it. The desk drops to its side and squashes the raccoon which lets out a yelp before squirming it's way out.

You ran to the front of the class grabbing any stray books off of desks and chucking them at the raccoon. Snatching the metre stick from the spot where it rested against the whiteboard, you begin to swat at the raccoon "I actually will not survive if I get rabies," Your voice shakes with every word.

"Yeah, no shit!" Kyle retorts, his hands flying arounf frantically and his mind paniced to do something. 

The metre stick only seems to make the raccoon more angry  "This feels like animal abuse!"

"It is!"

"Should I stop?"

"Do you want rabies?"

"No."

"Then no!" Kyle climbs down from his desk and frantically looks around for something to throw at the raccoon, he grabs a thick textbook from the teacher's desk and throws it down at the rabid creature. It squeaks, staggers, and snaps its jaws, ignoring Kyle and staying focused on you.

"Kyle, open the door!" You shout, prodding at the raccoon in a feeble attempt to keep it away from your flesh. 

He jiggles the handle to no avail, it doesn't budge. There's nothing but a familiar snigger on the only side of the door. "Cartman, open the door!" 

"If you pay me twenty bucks right now." His irritating voice answers. 

"What? I don't have money on me." He lifted the little shade that covered the glass panel on the door and of course, there was the back of Cartman's head.

"You're Jewish, that's impossible."

"I'll fucking Paypal you the money just open the door," Kyle's voice rises with every word. 

"Jewrat, I know you have your little gold pouch on you."

"Did you put the fucking raccoon in the vent?" 

"That depends," His voice is as smug as ever.

"I'm gonna kick your teeth in!" He slams his body against the door but Cartman is without question the heavier one leaning on the other side.  "Open the door!" 

"Is it ethical to kill it?" You crawl on top of the teacher's desk, kicking random items down every time the raccoon attempts to jump. It hits the creature's head with a little thud though it's only stunned for a moment before it goes back to attacking like it shot up some kind of drug.

“That doesn’t really matter,” Kyle does a run against the door, it looks like it's going to cave inward.

You had run out of supplies to knock on the raccoon's head, it grabbed hold of your shoe, getting more agitated with every attempt to shake it off. "Fuck, fuck, shitballs, fucking cunt licker!"

In mere seconds Kyle grabs a chair by its legs and bashes down onto the raccoon which claws into your shoes in an attempt to stay on you but the force of the chair brought it barrelling to the ground. It twitches under the chair, ragged breathes and squeals. "Did it bite you?" 

You shake your head, a hand slapped over your mouth as you look down at the animal writing below. "Where the fuck are the police?" You scream. Kyle helps you down from the desk and you immediately spring towards the door, banging on it with all of your force "Eric, open the door or I'm gonna throw rocks through your window, you dumb whore!" 

"Tell the jew to slide a bill under the floor," He says nonchalantly. Through the glass panel on the door, you can hardly see the rest of the hallway past Cartman's head which appears to be vacant. You turn back to Kyle who throws his hands up in exasperation then look to where the raccoon begins to stir on the floor and find its footing. 

"I'm going to ask one more time, open the fucking door," You try to keep your voice as still as possible despite shaking with rage and biting the inside of your mouth so hard that blood mixes with your saliva.

"I'm going to ask one more time, tell Kyle to-

You ball your hand into a fist and rear your elbow out, connecting your knuckles to the glass panel that was once separating the two of you from Cartman. It shatters on impact, sending a spiderweb of cracks radiating outwards. The sound of breaking glass fills the room, echoing off the walls. You reach your other arm through broken glass and wrap your hands around Cartman's pudgy neck.

The panic is evident, his hand moving quickly to try and pry your hands away from him. You refuse to let go, holding him against the door despite his choking sputters and the urgent tapping over your hands. 

"Open the fucking door!" You shout again, wringing Cartman's neck like a soaked towel, ignoring the little shards of glass stuck in your hands and the jagged edges of the frame cutting up your forearm. You were a lot less scared of Cartman than you were of the raccoon carrying a deadly illness.

He coughs, each breath becoming shallower and more desperate than the last. His hand fumbles for the door handle and the second you see the light from the hallway spill through a crack, you let go of Cartman and slam your body on the door which finally lets out.

You stumble through the door and into the hallway, watching your shaking hand engrained with little shards of class. Cartman's breathing heavily against a wall, his face the brightest shade of red you had ever seen on a human.

Kyle walks through, eyes wide and brows furrowed at the sight before him.  He looks at you, shutting the door behind him "Is it funny now?"

"Kinda actually, yeah."

[swiftsdelucaa]

I love your blog and your writing sm!!! ❤️

I wanted ask you if you could write an imagine for Andrew DeLuca where the reader gets injured badly during the fire in the hospital and he doesn't know right away because no one tells him? No pressure ofc, thanks :)

❛ 𝑨𝒇𝒓𝒂𝒊𝒅 ❜

𝙋𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Andrew DeLuca x reader ♡

𝘼/𝙣: Tyy sm anon!! 💜💜 Loved writing it, hope you'll like it too!! :)

The fire, the smoke, the fear, the anxiety, those were the only things you could remember, the only things that surrounded your mind and your body. Right now around you there were just people, many people you knew, that probably were worried for you. Breath was difficult in that moment, and mostly of your body parts hurt due of the burns. Someone put an oxygen mask on your face, as they kept talking about things you couldn't understand very well because of your current state. You knew you weren't okay, everything has been crazy, you just tried to do the best and help Stephanie.

"S-Steph..." you immediately remembered about her and took off the mask to talk.

"She is okay Y/n, now we're doing the best for you" Jackson reassured you. "But you mustn't make efforts" he added. You barely could nod, the weakness that had taken over your body got the better on you.

"Should we call Andrew?" Maggie asked. "I mean, he has no idea of what it's happening"

"Okay, but we don't even know where he could be" Meredith replied. Yeah, he was with the other doctors, helping all those people who has been in trouble because of that situation. You wanted him with you, you couldn't hide that you were a little scared, but you didn't want to worry him too much. You knew him, you knew how much he got involved in everything, especially if it was you. But anyway you didn't have enough strength to respond, the pain and flanking were strong.

"Yeah, he need to know, but I don't think this is the best moment..." Jackson said. "There are many people here, and I think we should tell him when everything will get better" they nodded to his affermation, then they focused again on you.

"Stephanie asked of Y/n, how is she?" Jo entered in your room, looking at you and hoping to hear a positive answer.

"We're dealing with it, she'll be okay" Jackson replied reassuring her.

Right when you were a little calmer, breath has become more difficult than before, you started caughing but then it became difficult too. The pain decreased, the weakness seemed like tiredness, so you closed your eyes, not feeling anything anymore.

"She's inhaled too much smoke, her lungs are damaged, she's in cardiac arrest!" Maggie exclaimed starting the compressions. "Wilson, we need a crash cart" Jo ran right away to find one, but there were so many people, and everything was no longer in its own place.

Andrew was talking to Richard about the fact to organize the situation. He glanced over at the girl, she seemed quite agitated. Apparently she found what she was looking for, but she has to try to walk on through all those people.

"Damn please, we're trying to save Y/n's life!" she screamed as she walked towards your room.

"What?" Andrew expression changed suddently. She approached her despite webber trying to stop him. "W-what have you said?" Jo turned to his as soon as she heard his voice. She wanted to explain, but she didn't have time to waste, so she kept running towards your room.

They took the defibrillators and released a charge, hoping to recover the pulse again. Andrew arrived right in that moment, after he followed Jo. He just looked at you, he couldn't explain the way how he felt in that moment.

"Y/n!" everyone turned to him when they heard him. His voice was a mix of feelings, he was so worried, broken and maybe angry too.

"DeLuca, we... are doing everything possible..." Meredith tried to calm him, but he was so confused and needed explanations, so he approached to you.

"What is-" he looked to your monitor, the line was still flat. "Y/n..."

"Andrew... please, you should go..." Jo pulled him away from where you were layed, putting a hand on his shoulder.

"We have the pulse!" Maggie sighed happily as everyone was glad too. Andrew was still quite shocked, but indeep he was relieved too.

"She is strong, she'll be fine, okay?" Jo said reassuring him. He couldn't say anything, he was still scared, for a moment he thought to lose you. Jo walked him out, finding a place for him to sit and be quiet. She then came back to the other doctors to help them.

Now he had to deal with the wait. It's not easy not know how the person you love and you care the most is. Maybe she was in surgery, or they were focused on her burns or maybe there was another complication. All of this killed him for a long time, he just wished to to see you good, to hear your voice talking with him or feel your presence safe with him. Andrew knew what would you do to help people, it was a big thing that united you, being doctors was what actually you wanted. And for him was very difficult not being there to do everything possible to help you. But he needed to stay strong.

He had no idea of how long he waited for some good news, but when she saw Jo he suddently got up.

"H-how is she? Can I see her?" he asked with the clear fear and hope in his voice.

Jo smiled to him "She's good, and yes, she asked to see you" the relief he felt at that moment was indescribable.

"My God, Y/n" he sighed smiling and couldn't wait to see you. Jo accompanied him to your room, where Jackson, Maggie and Meredith were still with you.

"Y/n!" you turned towards the entrance when you heard Andrew's voice, and you couldn't help to smiling as soon as you saw him. He reciprocated, he was so glad to see you okay.

"We took care of her burns and the rest of the damage, we did our best" Jackson said.

"Yeah, the convalescence will be long, but she will recover" Maggie added smiling.

"She is strong" Meredith looked at you.

"She is" Andrew added as you both looked at each other.

They checked you a last time and them went out of your room, letting a moment for you and Andrew. He approached to you, sitting next to you in your bed.

"You scared me to death, sometimes you just look more stubborn than me" he said smiling as you chuckled.

"That's why you love me" you replied. He looked at you in the eyes, stroking softly your hair. "I was so afraid tho..." you said taking his hand.

"I was very afraid too, but are fine now, and that's the only thing that matter" he said reassuring you. He held your hand and then he approached to your face to kiss you on the lips, lovingly and softly.

"I love you" he whispered.

"I love you too" you replied as your foreheads still touched.

[onehundredfoxess]

20 / singer / 270 words / mildly nsfw

@taylorswiftmicrofic

“You’re a terrible fucking singer!” Andrew yelled, throwing one of Neil’s shoes at the bathroom door, as if it would fly through and hit Nicky as he sang in the shower. It was a statement to Andrew’s exhaustion that he didn’t just heave himself off his beanbag and leave the dorm altogether.

“Leave him alone,” Neil replied from his spot on the floor beside Andrew, but there was no threat in his tone. “He’s just excited.”

“We’re all very excited,” Kevin said, deadpan.

“You’re just bitter because Thea never visits,” Nicky said, stepping out of the bathroom in nothing but a towel tied around his waist. “And Erik thinks I’m a great singer.”

“I’m bitter because I’m going to have to listen to four of you fucking all night now, instead of just two.”

“Jesus, Kevin,” Aaron replied, shuddering at the reminder of his brother.

Neil watched as a slow smile crept across Andrew’s lips, a frightening, menacing thing to everyone except for Neil; that smile only made Neil want to devour him whole.

The look Andrew sent Neil’s way told him that Andrew knew as much.

“See what I mean?” Kevin asked rhetorically, as Neil finally climbed over the top of Andrew, straddling his hips. Kevin turned and walked toward the door, Aaron and a quickly-dressed Nicky on his heels.

“Too bad I have to go pick up Erik from the airport or I’d stick around and watch,” Nicky said grinning, just barely dodging Neil’s other shoe.

The front door shut and Andrew heaved a sigh. “Finally,” he said softly. “Silence.”

Neil hummed as he slid down Andrew’s body, intent on getting Andrew to break that silence quickly, with the sound of his ragged moans.

[mblack-93]

AFTG fic idea

Hi! I have some fic ideas for All of the Game fanfics, and want some opinions!

Pretty please? I have put some snippets of the stories with the ideas!

You can vote at the bottom for which fic I should write!

The options are;

First: Neil is not the only freshman to start at the Foxes that year, but Mike/Michaela (an androgynous person) is the other (Dealer or Striker?) They have known Andrew for years and are because of that 'adopted' into the Monsters. What nobody knows is that they are the daughter of Lola. They hate their mother and become very protective over Neil. *maybe pairing with Kevin, or with Neil/Andrew*

Snippet from this story;

''So it's true? You're a whore?'' The bitch sneers.

Michaela laughs and gives them a frightening grin. ''I never did say what my services are, did I? It's just funny that everyone always assumes it has something to do with sex.'' She purrs.

Neil has stiffened next to him, and she can't blame him. Now she knows who he is, her 'killer' smile probably makes him nervous. She knows she looks like her mother that way.

And after all, her mother is none other than his father's right hand.

Second: Neil gets badly hurt during an attack by his father, and his mother needs to leave him for a couple of weeks to get them off their trail. Neil passes out in a warehouse and gets picked up by the police and put into foster care because our boy will never say anything about his parents. There he meets Andrew at the Spear house. (you can probably imagine the horror they go through) before his mother finds him again and kidnaps him, but not before torching the house. Neil thinks Andrew is dead and is grieving, while Andrew survives the fire barely (he has some bad scars.) Andrew gets adopted by the Minyards and follows canon until Neil comes back into play in Arizona. *Andriel*

Snippet from this story;

Andrew is frozen, he had not expected to ever see Abram again. He truly thought the kid died. His only friend. He thought-

''DREW!'' Abram cries out and throws himself in Andrews's arms, and even after all these years, Andrew recognizes Abram as if he's his own touch and doesn't flinch away. No, he pulls him tighter against him, hugging him like they have never been separated. He is the only person who can touch him without warning. The only one he even wants to touch and someone who never has made his skin crawl.

''I thought you died,'' He hears Abram whisper against his ear; Andrew feels more than hears the hitched, pained breath that leaves Abram.

''I can say the same, idiot,'' He tells Abram gruffly, making the other boy snort. Christ, he's taller than Andrew now. The asshole, how dare he?

Third: Neil never ran with his mother and has grown up with Kevin in the Nest. When Kevin's hand is broken, Neil gets him out and brings him to the Foxes, he also gets Jean out, but has to pay the price himself. Then after months of silence and Kevin being sure his friend is dead, he turns up at the Foxhole Court. He has made another deal with Ichirou. If he can disgrace Riko, and kill him afterwards, he has earned Kevin's and Jean's continued freedom. He never made a deal for himself. *A Neil/Andrew/Kevin pairing*

Snippet from this fic;

''You are still going to play, Kevin Day-'' A chuckle escaped the red-haired boy before him. ''-You will not let him win, and you will not give up. You will play Exy-'' ''But-'' A hard tug shut him up before he could say more. ''You are going to play Exy and show the world that those numbers mean nothing.'' He gestured to Kevin's cheek before pointing to his own. Nathaniel's had just been tattooed yesterday, before the match that ruined everything. 

Kevin sucked in a breath and whimpered when Nathaniel started wrapping his hand up in bandages. He then shoved a bottle of Vodka in Kevin's lap and ordered him to drink, which Kevin did without complaint. It dulled the pain, even if it was just a little. 

Kevin spaced out for a moment, but before he knew it, Nathaniel was in front of him again—this time with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a phone pressed against his ear.

He talked in rapid Japanese, and Kevin tried to focus on what was being said, but he could only make out a few words. 

''-dangerous-'' ''Broken investments-'' ''Anything.'' ''-get us out.'' 

Thank you for leaving your vote ❤❤❤❤

[jo-harrington]

Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 18 - Freak

Summary: Dave's first day at Hawkins High.

Word Count: 961

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Friendship, new friends, a bit of self deprecation, teenage angst, typical teenage snark, Freak #3 is named Dave, whats the friendship thing where you think someone's a raging bitch/asshole and then that ends up being your best friend? yeah that...

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! Even if you didn’t start on Day 1, you can still join!

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

Here we go again.

Another school, another first day, another fresh start.

Dave's mom loves fresh starts; Dave hates them.

Understandable because he's been the new kid at school at least three other times in his life, thanks to his dad's job. You'd think he'd be used to it now that he was older, but it'd only made him more bitter.

Always having to leave friends behind, leave plans unfulfilled.

Plus he'd been gearing himself up to ask his crush out before they had to move again. He was pretty sure they were gonna say yes too.

He'd spent all summer in some stage of heartbreak.

"You'll find someone new to have a crush on," his mom tried to cheer him up as she drove him to school on his first day. "And making friends again will be so easy! You have such a bright personality Davey."

He sunk further into his seat, pout cemented on his face.

That was the last thing he wanted to hear from his mom.

He felt a little thankful that it wasn't only his first day, but the first day of classes entirely, and that there was such a commotion of traffic between Hawkins Middle and Hawkins High that his mom couldn't get out of the car to hug him goodbye.

Immediately, he realized how much he was gonna stick out at this school. First day of school meant that you dressed your best. For Dave, that was his nicest jeans, his leather jacket, and his favorite sneakers. For everyone else, it seemed like their best meant that they were cut out of sears catalogs and Old Navy window displays and whatever magazines that the popular girls always giggled at over lunch.

He figured...that was what happened when you moved from a bigger city to a suburb in the middle of nowhere like this. But it suddenly put a bitter taste in his mouth and he suddenly doubted that he was gonna find anyone to be friends with.

If only he knew what was waiting for him in first period...

To be fair, when Dave first saw saw, who he later would find to be, Eddie Munson in the back corner of the classroom, his mind immediately thought "who is this douchebag?"

Long hair, perpetual stank face, slumped in his desk so far that you could barely call it sitting, with a long leg stretched across the aisle making it impossible for anyone to sit next to him.

"Guy must think his dick is so big," Dave grumbled as he put as much space between himself and capital-D-douchebag as possible.

Unfortunately for him, they were partnered together for the "ice breaker" by their very chipper teacher.

"Hey, I'm Eddie," the guy greeted immediately, face pulled into a less-than-enthusiastic expression as he moved to the seat beside Dave. "Nice jacket."

"Thanks," he responded blithely with a nod.

It wasn't that he wanted to be an asshole, he just...got the wrong vibe from this guy. Even if Eddie didn't seem all that bad right now--bored more than anything--he knew plenty of people that turned out to be terrible.

But he could try to be a little friendlier.

"Let's, uh, break some ice I guess," he told Eddie with an expectant lift of his brow and they got to work.

The activity on the board--a weird "getting to know you" game of Bingo--was slow to say the least.

Name of your first pet? Eddie never had any pets, Dave had a dog named Rascal when he was younger.

Middle name? Edward Joseph and David Andrew.

Favorite band? "Metallica"

It was said in tandem and both boys did a double take, then Eddie narrowed his eyes.

"Seriously?" he scoffed. "You like Metallica? Name three of their songs."

"What?" Dave's voice squeaked with affront. "Are you kidding me? I don't need to prove myself to you."

That's it, he knew this guy was a dickhead.

"Why don't you name three of their songs?"

The two of them bickered back and forth for a minute, their words lost beneath the din of their classmates chatter, until finally Dave had enough.

"Seriously I know I'm the new kid and everything and I know its not hard to look at me and see that I'm a freak," he put hard emphasis on the word, "but it doesn't mean you need to tease me for the shit I like. Play pretend to get me to trust you and then laugh at me. What's next? You gonna ask me if I like Dungeons and Dragons?"

It was silent for a moment before Eddie leaned over in his seat to dig something out of his backpack. He slapped it right onto the desk in front of Dave.

A beaten old black spiral notebook with a piece of duct tape across the front that said Hellfire in black sharpie.

Dave cautiously opened it to find all sorts of campaign notes and character sheets and scribbles in the margins about this and that. It was like a gold mine. Shit, even his friends back home didn't play DnD with him...

"So..." Eddie sniffed. "Hellfire meets every Friday after school. Still not too sure where we're holding meetings this year. Have to talk to our good old sponsor first. But, unofficially, you're welcome to come sit with us at lunch if you want? See if you wanna join?"

Dave nodded dumbly and then, before he realized it, he was rambling on about his favorite songs from Kill Them All and he and Eddie were on their way to becoming the best of friends.

"It's, uh, nice to meet you Dave," Eddie told him at the end of class.

"Nice to meet you too Ed.

And the rest was history.

[liminalmemories21]

still looking for prompts Lim? How about ‘I missed you’ 👀

Andrew is six weeks old when he goes back to work. It's physically painful to leave the house that morning, and the stream of text messages and pictures that TK sends him throughout the day make it both bearable and unbearable to be at work and not at home with them.

But when he finally gets out of work that evening he finds himself turning left instead of right towards the loft. He isn't really conscious of what he's doing or where he's going until he turns into the entrance the cemetery where his father is buried.

There's a cherry tree that was planted the year after his father died and he's watched it grow year by year as he comes to visit on birthdays and anniversarys. It's taller than he is now, and in a few weeks it will bloom and drop a fragrant blanket across his father's grave. But it's still only barely in bud now, and the ground is chilly and damp when he sits down.

He pulls a few stray bits of mown grass off the grave stone, letting his fingers linger and trace his father's name. He knows his mother comes every week, spends 30 minutes or an hour catching his father up on the family gossip and news about Carlos and his sisters. Ana comes with her sometimes, and Luisa comes every time she's in town. He's never gotten comfortable being here though, always feels awkward talking to his father's grave.

He glances around, but he's the only person here in the almost dusk. "I don't know if Mom told you, but we adopted a baby." He laughs to himself. "Of course Mom told you. Mom has told everyone." He leans in a little like he's whispering a secret. "Mom is cashing in on every baby shower she's ever been to. We aren't going to need to buy Andrew a piece of clothing until he's three."

He leans back, taking a beat. "He's beautiful, Dad. He's beautiful and perfect and I love him so much, more than I ever thought was possible." He brushes a damp leaf off the edge of the grave stone, studying his father's name - Gabriel Xavier Reyes, beloved husband and father. "It took a long time for me to admit to myself that I wanted to be a father, longer to believe that maybe I could be good at it. TK's always believed in me, but it took me longer to get there."

He smiles. "TK is so good with him. I always knew he would be, but he's so much more than I could ever have imagined. Even when he hasn't slept in two days and we don't have any clean clothes left in the house the way he looks at Andrew is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen."

He wonders if he'd ever have been able to say something like that to his father if he was still alive, if with another decade of time together they'd have found a way to talk to each other like this, or if it's only possible because one of them isn't really here anymore.

"I miss you," he says, and it isn't as hard to say now as it used to be, doesn't feel as bitter, as freighted with lost chances. "I wish you were here to teach me how to make Andrew feel safe after a nightmare, teach me what days I should play hooky from work to take him out for ice cream. I wish you were here so we could talk about how not to have that change, how not to forget those moments."

His phone dings with a message and he glances at it. It's a picture of Andrew, eyes screwed shut in concentration as he drinks his bottle. He only feels a little foolish when he holds it up to show his father. "I need to get home. TK's been alone all day." Pauses and then says without shame, "And I miss Andrew, it's been ten hours and I swear he looks like he's grown." He pushes himself up and stops to brush his hand against the top of the gravestone. "When he's a little older and the weather's warmer I'll bring him to meet you. I think you're going to really like him."

He texts TK just before he gets in the car. / on my way home / . . . / had to stop to talk to someone /

[s-exy-sapphillean]

I AM HERE TO ASK FOR FABLE OF FOXES AND HARES WIP!!!!!!! :3 (I love the name btw)

Sorry for disappearing for a bit, i hope the length of this makes up for it :]

I'll get to other asks tomorrow but for now: Fables of Foxes and Hares

“You have five minutes.”

The door did not even fall closed before his brother was in Andrew’s face, sneering. “You asshole! How could you!?”

Aaron’s face was flushed a blotchy red, his watery eyes betraying how little this outburst had to do with anger.

Andrew in turn was careful to school his face features into an emotional expression even as his brother bodily pushed him backwards, making hives break out over his skin.

“Did you want to go? Privileged little capitol boy like you would die seconds after the buzzer.” he drawled, raising an eyebrow at the other blonde. Andrew knew perfectly well that his brother hadn't exactly lived a cushy life of privilege. He had ended up here in District 10 after all. But he had a point to make. He’d intended to continue further but pain exploded between his eyes as the knuckles of Aaron's fist met the bridge of his nose.

Actually surprised, Andrew barely managed to restrain himself from hitting back, instead shifting the motion into a hard shove that sent his twin stumbling backwards over his own feet and falling to the floor in a sprawl.

Of course that was also the moment when the others entered the room, announced by Nicky's distressed wail of Andrew's name. Andrew only spared the man a quick glare, not caring if he was upset at him or for him, or if he even could tell the brothers apart at the moment. Andrew didn't want to see Nicky at all, not with today’s bright glittery green makeup and matching garish outfit.

Instead training his eye on Bee as she stepped into the room last, he carefully proded at his nose. There was only dull lingering pain, nothing out of place and he wasn't even bleeding. It would likely just bruise. He felt a small spark of amusement at the thought of the capitol stylist having to work with a bruised face.

When Andrew lowered his hands from his face, Betsy stepped closer, just up to the edge of what she knew he considered his personal space and tilted her head slightly in silent question. Her hands clasped together in front of her, her eyes shone with concern. Andrew didn't know what was worse: that she knew better than to use words with him right now, or that there was resignation in her posture. Deciding to deal with the lesser of two evils he turned his focus back on his brother.

“Thank you for demonstrating just how hopeless you are. You’d have no chance.” For emphasis Andrew gestures at how his brother was still sitting on the floor, not having even tried yet to get up again. Part of the reason might be a teary eyes Nicky fussing over him but Andrew didn't think that contradicted his point. The comment seemed pointed enough to relight Aaron’s fire, at least.

Pushing Nicky’s hands away and then using him to pull himself up off the ground, Aaron appeared ready to throw another punch. “And what? you’re any different? You think you actually stand a chance? How delusional are you?!”

Behind Aaron, Nicky visibly cringed. Andrew knew it wasn't because he disagreed with what was said. Nicky was just emotionally weak and would prefer everyone being optimistic or pretending everything was okay. 

“Come on, Aaron…” their cousin said, reaching out to grip Aaron’s right upper arm. The teen in turn bristled at both the touch and the reprimand. “No! He-”

“I’ll be back” Andrew interrupted him before this could go on much longer. He couldn't have much more time left and he needed to say this. He needed his brother to hear it, needed Bee to hear it. “I’m going to come back.”

[girlonthefireescape]

I finally got to see All of Us Strangers last night, and I went from HUH. OKAY?? to WT actual F over the course of a few hours and am now at a mixture of HUH. OKAY?? and WTF, I think.

I think what it comes down is: This wasn't the tragedy I expected and definitely not the one I wanted??

Like, I went into this knowing the few Harry/Adam scenes you get in gifs sets (I skipped the ones with Adam's parents because that seemed too spoilery! LOL) and the bits you get from official summaries -- like that the parents are dead/ghosts/what have you.

And then I got to the point in the movie at which I thought, well, is everyone a ghost/dead then? And then we got to the ending and that penultimate scene -- after we'd resolved the bit with the parents -- and it was like, surely not? They're surely not actually gonna go there? And then they did, and I didn't even know what to do with that, but it still wasn't unexpected -- not really? The unexpected bit was more the fact that it was actually the thing that happened. And then the gut punch I didn't even think about as an option was the reveal that not only had he been dead the whole time but no, the key moment and turning point was that first meeting, and I now have 6 pages of notes app notes that I wrote down on my journey home from the cinema, so I can discuss this with my friend once she's seen it and to make sense of my thoughts and feelings, and I still don't know what I'm supposed to do with this movie and this ending now! (Side note: Although writing this really helped?? lol)

Kudos to the entire cast, though! I love Andrew Scott's work, anyway, and I thought his performance felt beautifully stripped back and bare and honest. And I was really intrigued by Paul Mescal. I'd seen him (obv) in Normal People (which wasn't really my favourite show) and The Lost Daughter (I'd forgotten he was even in it until recently), but he didn't really stick with me in terms of his performance or the roles I'd seen him in. But this felt so different and like he threw himself so into that character that wasn't even in that many scenes, he really disappeared into the part for me. I also found that character so interesting, especially in retrospect, because while Harry represented a different generation (loved that bit, especially the discussion of queer vs. gay), his purpose in the narrative was also to be there for Adam. And then the bit at the end when we learn that Adam could've been there for him -- but also couldn't be. Or rather, Harry needed someone to be there for him, and he reached out (had the courage or maybe desperation to) and no one reached back.

That bit where Adam told him in the end that he hadn't been ready to or couldn't let him in like, obviously on the metaphorical level. But it also made me think about it at the level of well, this is a drunk stranger standing in front of your door saying weird things, and you're the only two people in the building. Like, is this a threat? Depends on which genre we're in. Which now reminds me of... Was it a tweet or a post on here or general writing advice? The bit where the characters don't know which genre they're in, so they're not necessarily acting in accordance with the genre guidelines. Like, is this a meetcute or is this person going to rob and/or murder you? Anyway...

I haven't really read any of the reviews yet or watched the actors talk about the movie, so I don't now how we all feel about the question of ghosts vs. hallucinations (vs. dreams vs. at some point I thought about whether this was all part the story/script Adam was writing). And I don't know if it actually matters what they were.

I knew there would be tragedy in this because of the few vague reactions I'd seen, but I expected it to be in the relationship with the parents and not the romance. That subversion! (Was it really one?) Although, the tragedy wasn't even necessarily in the romance but in the figure of Harry in the end? Or emotionally, that's where I was, anyway. The way Adam lost his parents but got to 'resolve' his conflict with them while Harry's parents were still alive but he might as well have been a ghost. Also, the bit where he was a ghost to his family but very visible and corporeal to Adam!

I just read a post that mentioned that different people would take different things from this movie, and that's always so interesting. It reminds me of how different people took different things from Poor Things, which I saw only a couple of weeks ago and ended up being really annoyed with.

I didn't cry at the ending. It happened so fast and was so expected but unexpected -- the ominous music in that scene and also in earlier scenes?? I didn't even have time to process this in order to have a reaction. I did tear up at the Christmas scene, though. The relationship between Adam and his parents, especially with his dad, felt really true and honest and recognisable, especially given the 80s context.

I even laughed a few times now that I think about it! And I think the entire theatre had a (maybe relieved) chuckle when Adam and his dad had muddled their way through the stereotype discussion and in the end agreed that no, Adam can indeed not throw for shit.

I think I'll probably need to see this again at some point. I read this article on how Disney (in line with the streamers in general) wants to stop selling physical media and how this might affect a DVD release, and oh, fuck that. Give us the DVD! I want to put this on my shelf!

[damonrutherford]

Tales of the insanely wealthy and alone...

He got like this sometimes when the clock rolled over to the early morning hours and the high of his evening wore off. When there were no more skirts to chase and no amount of liquor in the world could drown out the dull roar in the back of his head. Hardly meant he wouldn't try to find another outlet though.

So there he sat on the otherwise dusty floor of his mother's tomb–– a vague mental note made to get someone in here to clean more often than the current cadence. A ridiculous luxury considering the subject, but if Andrew insisted that they weren't going to be buried in the ground like everyone else, then the least Damon could do was spruce the place up. Flowers, too. He'd get more of those.

Then, as he did in childhood, Damon rattled off about his day and spared absolutely no details. An odd sight he imagined, speaking so candidly to the walls of this crypt, but if she were still around, Cerys would encourage it. In fact, she'd probably be a bit hurt if he left anything out. Or at least this was how he preferred to think of his mother, despite the three decades since her passing somewhat muddying his memories.

Didn't all kids elevate their mother to a version of sainthood after losing her so young? At least in his case, she actually had been one.

In the middle of recounting his idea for investing in a tech driven hedge fund, the familiar ping of a text notification drew him up short. His phone was an endless abyss of unanswered messages, emails, and voicemails–– most professional, some scathing, most which remained muted to avoid inundation. Only four people had their settings converted to bypass that feature and all but one shared his last name.

It used to be five.

The reminder hit him unexpectedly when he read over Lara's brief response to their earlier conversation. Without thinking, he closed her text and opened his contact list, barely scrolling through the A's before the name jumped out.

On low nights, genuinely deep pits in the midnight hours, he sometimes thought about calling that number just to hear the other man's voice on the recording. Call it personal cowardice or misguided altruism (because what if Revati hadn't turned it off?), Damon could never bring himself to press the button. Not even once in the year since he received news of yet another devastating loss in his life.

Amir hadn’t deserved to go out like that. In his opinion few did, but especially him, regardless of how familial loyalty and complications drove them apart. Now the lack of closure or goodbye festered forever beneath his skin, the burgeoning what ifs would always linger; too bitter a pillow to swallow.

Another message flashed across the unlocked screen, this time a reminder from his assistant.

The Malaysian investors will be in-office soon for your scheduled conference call. 3:00 sharp. I know you're up, drink some water and be ready in 40.

Only six months on the job and already Dana managed the insurmountable feat of both organizing his entire calendar and keeping Damon somewhat in check. Maybe he would take care to not sleep with this one and ensure she actually stuck around long enough to matter, as Gideon so rightfully suggested. Or perhaps he should simply refrain from hiring beautiful women to avoid any future temptation.

Well, the plight of old dogs and all...

"Duty calls, I'm afraid. I'll have to regale my plans for world domination next time." His thumb traced over the inscription of Cerys' name. "Bye, Mum." With that, he turned and departed into the muggy cemetery air.

All at once, his formerly somber expression fell behind the mask of public charisma as he dialed his assistant's number. Since apparently she was also awake at this hour ––enough to send him a cheeky text–– it shouldn't be an issue. “Dana, love, can you send a car to the location I’m about to drop?” Morbid to share like this, but she knew precisely who was buried here. Everyone did.

Answering without apologies nor puttering for her earlier message, Dana only offered to reschedule upon reviewing the address he sent over. Which was precisely what he liked about her, respectful with enough moxie to snap him back to reality.

“No need to cancel, I wouldn’t want to keep our prospective friends waiting.”

[ruminate88]

Inner Child Wounds: plus toxic relationships 11/08/24

First of all you’re not crazy and whatever happened to you or was told to you as a child is real OK? So I was labeled in school with a “learning disability” and of course, my family was not receptive of that and worked very hard to get me out of that. My mom understood the label, but she worked with me to get beyond it. My dad didn’t really work with me at all. He just treated me like nothing was wrong with me and would get frustrated at me when I couldn’t do quick math or when I cried not to go to school! It’s like my dad wouldn’t accept that school was hard for me…

my brother was probably the most gentle with me as he had a big heart and felt bad for me because he didn’t have any of those struggles. My brother barely tried and STILL got good grades plus he was popular in school.. I was the complete opposite of my brother 😫 I do believe in overcoming labels, but when you’re such a young child and your brain is still developing, and you’re growing, to be told that you are basically “stupid” that really impacts you in a great way there’s no denying that!

The problem is throughout my teenage and adult years, often times I get triggered when people would do or say something that causes me to look or feel stupid… often my mom would trigger me when she would want me to do something, and I felt like I couldn’t do it. I know it was frustrating for her all this time because no one wants their child to struggle.

same with my relationships; dating these toxic men who treat me like I’m 100% stupid 🥺because I’m such a nice person and back then I was pretty naïve too. I didn’t know anything about toxic relationships and I thought when you told somebody you loved them that it was serious. 🧐 I didn’t think it was a joke. The joke is on them because I have a loving heart despite any struggles either of us had and I’m not stupid I knew that things were not altogether right with them especially the way my ex Andrew got angry when I found his mom’s Facebook…. 😳 I felt like he was clearly protecting his mom and I didn’t know why, but I wasn’t born yesterday….

People take your kindness for weakness. Also people invalidate you when they ignore your struggles. I’ve even had an Aunt tell me before that basically I am a genius that school mislabeled me and that the reason I struggled so much in school is because I have a different way of learning that only a genius would have which lol 😂 it is sweet and kind of funny but kind of weird too … if anything, I’m a visual and hands-on learner. I’m not a textbook learner. School tried to tell me that I was an audio learner and maybe I was when I was little, but I’m definitely not now. If you read a book to me out loud, it’ll go in one ear and out the other I need to see the pages for myself.

in overcoming labels, you do have to get to the root cause of all of it, which school labeled me and now that I’m an adult, I realize the most important things in life is: love, your family, knowing how to do simple math, and pay bills, knowing how to cook and clean and basically take care of yourself. Those are essentials for adulthood. The only way I would ever need advanced algebra or calculus is if I was some kind of rocket scientist!! I don’t know lol I don’t know what math is used in that 😝

At the end of the day, I can lay my head on the pillow and know that I have tried to treat people rightly, and that not everyone understands or relates to you… you know I never felt good enough as a child because of how school labeled me so when my ex Andrew kept telling me he’s “not good enough”, I laughed out loud because I feel the same way but yet I accepted him and that’s what hurt me sooooo much is that not only did I get it and accept him BUT then for him to turn around and be so cold to me like bro I’m on your side. It’s not even cool for you to treat me this way. Are you seriously gonna find another girl that will try to relate to you and care about you in your darkest moments? It’s your loss, not mine. (Think he just wasn’t ready back then to be so serious with me)

I’m growing every day and I’m becoming self-aware of ALL these childhood things that I need to heal and I’m working on myself every day, but I’m not perfect. No one is. Don’t hate my ex and I’m not trying to judge him. Whatever he needs in life, I hope it comes to him with ease ❤️‍🩹 I hope he FINALLY feels good enough 🙏🏻 God please no matter how bad he hurt me; I want him to be ok with you and to be well in his soul healthy and strong.

don’t give up on people just because you don’t believe or have hope. Hope is always there but you gotta hold onto it. Not hope to reconnect or be “lovers” again… just hope that the person who hurt you can become a better person for themselves.

[radiant-ruby]

𝑅𝓊𝒷𝓎 𝑀𝒸𝑅𝑒𝒾𝒹

Pronouns: She/Her Born: 30th October 1995 (21) Species: Bloodline Hunter / Vampire Turned: November 2016 (physically 21) by Jessica Harvelle Alliance: Good - Resistance Location: Recently returned to under the dome - above and below ground

So What Happened?

Before prom, on ‘human day’, Ruby saved the life of Verity Vandeviere from some jackass bounty hunter that was messing around in her town. It was a one time thing, only because Verity was human at the time. Ruby kicked ass, but it raised more than a few questions from vampire boyfriend Corey Andrews. She decided to confess that she was a bloodline hunter. It didn’t change anything, he loved her all the same.

Prom Night happens in Havensdale and Ruby McReid has a magical night. Perhaps the first and last truly normal night of her life. She was crowned Prom Queen, danced the night away with her vampire boyfriend, had fun at the after party and, for the first time in her life, felt like the world wasn’t on her shoulders.

It doesn’t last long. Of course it doesn’t. The next morning, the news breaks about Effy and Leo. Ruby suspects foul play immediately, it relights her righteous fury that things like this keep happening in her town. The deaths were covered up for the sake of Havensdale’s humans, but she knew the truth-- Juliette Palmer killed them both. Ruby graduates and knows that she’s fully committed to being a hunter.

There isn’t long to form a plan to keep her people safe when Founder’s Day comes along. They thought they were prepared for this, but they were wrong. Ruby goes underground with the rest of the McReids- her mother, Krystal McReid, included- and forms the underground Resistance. She dedicates her life to the cause and, in the end, it takes too much.

They had a plan. November 2016-- they were finally going to put an end to this, only for it all to go devastatingly wrong. Carrie is kidnapped and Ruby is powerless in the moment when Edward forces Alex Andrews to feed on her before delivering the killing blow. She laid dying when Alex turned her into a vampire and Ruby screamed as she realised she could never leave her baby sister alone in this world for eternity.

Corey refused to do it- he couldn’t, the bloodlust- so she turned to Jess Harvelle. Her best friend, her beloved best friend who broke her heart. Her best friend who had just turned her humanity back on after all those years. Her best friend who could barely control her bloodlust, but she would just have to because Ruby was going to be turned into a vampire, one way or another.

In the aftermath, Ruby was left empty. She was left feeling like a part of her died- it had, hadn’t it?- and then there was, well, the bloodlust. Being a vampire. The one thing she had hated, had feared, her entire life. Ruby needed to get out, she needed to be alone and learn how to be this new thing before she could be around her loved ones again. She manages to leave The Dome and lo and behold, Verity Vandeviere follows her out.

You see, once upon a time, Verity had been turned into a vampire against her will and her sister, Vivian, had manipulated him into turning her as well. Because she could never leave her sister alone in this world, for eternity. These parallels were hard to ignore, but Ruby ignored them anyway. As far as Ruby was concerned, they had a business arrangement. Verity would teach her how to be a vampire and Ruby would help her find Vivian, who had previously been captured by The Institute.

They move in together, the montage of research begins and after 6 months, they track down the last standing Institute with Vivian locked inside. They make it out to the Nevada desert, break into the Institute, and come face to face with the last living person there. Ruby tells them to leave or die- ‘ ‘Please don’t make me... let her (Verity) kill you’. They run. The only way to release Vivian is to release everyone, override the system completely. She didn’t know exactly what they had done when they did it, but she knew it wasn’t good.

With Vivian released, they return to the apartment to find Jordan Rickman waiting. Jordan tells Ruby to get in the damn car and put on her seat belt because they are going home. She agrees, telling Verity their arrangement is done- ‘The next time I see you, I’ll kill you’.

Ruby and Jordan have only just managed to sneak back into the Dome.

Wanted Connections

People that she’s saved/helped since the dome first came down and before she became a vampire. Also people she’s had scraps with. New friends and enemies.

People she’s run into outside the dome while struggling to be a vampire. Anyone she may have almost took a bite out of in a moment of weakness, both before leaving the dome and after.

Resistance allies. Perhaps someone that feels hinky about her now being a vampire who’s in love with a vampire?

[fuckzachariah]

Zach bit his lip, grinning over at Alex, a swell building within him as it dawned on him they were having fun. And it was allowed. Yes, perhaps they cheated a little, lied a little more, to get there, but it was allowed. Of all the things about her he’d afforded himself to miss, genuinely indulging in the joy of one another’s company was one he simply hadn’t ever touched. It was just too painful to do; the kind of reminiscing that could kill him. He lingered instead on their untouchably wrought sex life, the passion of their disagreements, the unbelievable wound jealousy had left in him and how that must equate, somehow, to a great love. But it came down to moments like these, really. The thing that welded them together and kept them solid through the hardship had not been their intensity but their quiet, private, shared intimacies. The making her laugh until she wiped eyeliner-washed tears from her doll eyes. Trying to make her stay up as late as he did, watching a movie, only for her to fall asleep on his chest. Driving home late at night and talking shit about everyone they’d suffered through all evening. Now that she was returned to him, in a more ethically delicate manner than he would’ve liked, it didn’t feel so terrifying to ruminate on those old pleasures. It didn’t hurt as much to admit how rabidly he’d missed them now that he had an ounce of them back. “Excellent point,” he laughed, shaking his head. “But it doesn’t fit perfect anymore; I can’t imagine Matthew has a bad word to say about old pal Dupree.” His tongue clicked. “Unfortunately, Alice is set in stone.”

He skated around Kylie somewhat, cognizant that lingering on their respective partners too long might burst this perfect, fickle bubble they’d inflated. He wasn’t sure if this made him a bad person or not; was being more protective over his hung-in-the-balance relationship with Alex than his actual relationship a damning offense? It was only when he left the intoxicating perfume of her presence did clarity sear him open, shining a light upon what he had done. What he was actively doing. Though Zach was yet to admit it to himself, it would become clear eventually that he was attempting to wean his way back into Alex’s protected heart; plant seeds there, nurture them, watch them grow until there was no longer space for Andrew. If it didn’t work, at least his self-denial would leave him the option of claiming ignorance. Avoiding these topics left him only with his songs to divert attention, and appease her wishes. Zach’s mindset back then, making the song he was to play her, seemed laughable to him now. His anger was stereotypical, childish, but fatal if unexorcised. So that’s what he had done; none of it was particularly true to heart, but rather the lashing out of a wounded boy. An inner child that had never been pacified doing what he knew best: yelling nonsense about it. 

It had been a long time since he’d listened to it. Maybe over a year, or more. It was rough and unmixed, his vocals raw and jagged and pierced with breathiness and laughter, making the present Zach cringe a little as he laughed along. Turning to her, the noticed he first sign of a response was her blatant shock at hearing her own name called out, piercing the speakers thanklessly. The rest of the humor seemed lost on her. Fortunately, the song front to back lasted barely a minute. As the final throes of his voice thinned out, a pillow was launched at him from the sofa, and he laughed as he caught it against his stomach with ease. “I’m sorry! I thought you would think it was funny,” he wheezed. “None of that shit was serious. I was just venting and saying whatever bull came to my head first. Like when people pay to go into those rooms where they can just smash shit up to get their anger out.” He tossed the pillow back, but did not aim for her, and it landed with a soft thud on the other end of the couch. Zach smirked, eyes rolling. “Oh, I don’t doubt it,” he assured. Because it was true; he couldn’t imagine the ways in which he’d be dragged up and down Beverly Hills if Alex were to put pen to paper and write about him in return. Thousands of hours of disparaging lyrics could be conjured about him if she tried. Alex taunted him, calling out to an invisible tool to play Lola’s now five-year-old song written to do exactly that; call attention to his insidious habits, and the warpath they paved, the bodies they left behind. But the world had hated him as much as they’d loved him, back then: this revelation had come as no surprise, and though the song had done well independently, public opinion of him barely shifted. 

Still, its lyrics were cutting. He had dodged it where possible, but it had been something of a hit. Unavoidable. As though some cruel, amused entity heard Alex's call, a smart device tucked behind his laptop picked up her request, the screen illuminating with triggered life. “Sure, here’s “Your Woman” by Lola Fonseca,” it consented, and immediately, the low, swooping strings flooded the room. “For fucks sake,” Zach genuinely belly laughed, tickled. He hoped he could recover; playing her his song had been a misstep. “Baby, tell me what you’ve got to say to me. You’re such a fucking liar, just tell the truth. You came as a surprise, but now, I see… So cut the shit, admit you always knew…” Lola crooned, and after the second line, Zach leaned into the humor of it all, singing along with the few and far between lyrics he’d picked up from its constant airplay. He stood from his chair, and in a theatrical ploy to make her laugh, began to dance along. At first, he held only air; a waltz with an invisible partner. Zach cartoonishly made his way over to Alex, beckoning her, singing where he could. “And you’re such a charmer, such a man. Now I think I finally understand. Is it in your genes? I don’t know, but I’ll soon find out, that’s for sure. On my knees, but ain’t no prayer…” Zach made a bold move with little forethought; he proffered his hand and plucked her up with relative ease from the couch, her being such a featherweight, and spun her deftly in time with the song. Before she could lose her Gucci-pumped footing, given he’d taken her by surprise, Zach caught her with an arm slipping firmly around the slight of her waist. They fit together in the cruelest manner; her back arched with his touch, and he leaned into her instinctively, his heart gone awry in his chest as he realized he had jeopardized his own golden rule; don’t get too close. His jaw went slack, gaze rolling over her devastating face like a desperate touch, and slowly he righted their posture as he seemed to be paralyzed by the rays of her. Lola sang them out, ironically, “...lord help the girl who is your woman…” Then they were perfectly upright, and Zach released her a little breathlessly; she could stand perfectly well on her own two feet. 

Alex narrowed her eyes at Zach, a playful skepticism dancing in her gaze as she tilted her head ever so slightly. “If you were going the Disney route,” she began, her tone teasing, “I think there’s a much more fitting character for my circumstances. A little red head with an overbearing, triton-wielding father who hates her boyfriend. She also has a name that begins with an A.” As she spoke, a muted smile sprawled across her lips. Though it appeared as if she were preoccupied with the objectionable name Zach had given her, she was surprised that he had even mentioned her at all. Andrew had probed for information about her past relationships, a common occurrence when getting to know a new partner, and Alex found herself navigating a delicate balance between honesty and discretion. While she had been selective about what she chose to share, there was no denying the truth: she had been involved in a number of affairs with famed musicians.

The realization that this pattern of behavior had become a part of her past left her feeling a profound sense of disgust, particularly when she considered the close affiliation they had with Zach. But only one of these liaisons had been intentional. It had been a desperate act, born out of the throes of her own addiction. That fateful night had marked a pivotal turning point in her life. The morning after, she awoke to a wave of physical and emotional turmoil, consumed by a profound sense of illness and regret for the choices she had made — not only for herself but also for the impact they had on Zach. It served as a catalyst for her decision to seek help, leading to a months-long rehabilitation stay that would ultimately become her saving grace. There was something incredibly disturbing about not recognizing the person she had become, about grappling with the repercussions of actions that felt foreign and out of character. Thinking about it made her blood run cold.

Zach lingered in her mind more often than she cared to admit, especially when Andrew’s fingers brushed against the faint scar that adorned her forehead. He had always been curious about its origin, but instead of delving into the painful truth, she would offer a vague explanation, a dismissive remark about something foolish she had done, something she preferred not to discuss. And to his credit, Andrew respected her boundaries, never pressing for more details. His patience and understanding were just a few of the many qualities that had drawn her to him, ultimately leading her to settle fall in love. Though she felt safe with him, it was still nearly impossible to talk about her relationship with Zach. It was a topic she was avoiding, a part of her history she struggled to confront. Perhaps it stemmed from a deep sense of embarrassment.

Here she was — an intelligent, beautiful woman who knew how to stand up for herself, yet her involvement with him seemed to call into question these very qualities. She felt foolish for allowing herself to be ensnared in such a dangerous situation, for allowing the toxicity to persist for as long as it did. But isn’t that how abusive relationships often unfold? It was a tangled web of manipulation and control, a cycle that left both parties wounded and scarred. And Alex recognized that she was no saint. She had inflicted her fair share of harm on Zach, just as he had done to her. It had been a bloody, gory mess, a chaotic dance of love and destruction that was far too complex to explain to someone who simply wouldn’t understand. With a heavy sigh, Alex pressed her back against the couch cushions, allowing her eyes to soften as she listened to Zach begin to speak about Kylie.

As Zach recounted Kylie’s persistent pursuit and his eventual concession, Alex laughed quietly, the irony of their situations not lost on her. While Kylie had relentlessly pursued Zach, Alex’s experience with him had been the polar opposite. He pursued her and she hadn’t needed to concede; she had fallen for him, fast and hard. From the moment they shared their first kiss, Alex knew she was done for. She had felt it deep in her bones, a realization that left her simultaneously exhilarated and vulnerable. It was why she had asked Zach to be careful with her heart, knowing full well the weight of the responsibility she was entrusting him with. Listening to Zach speak about Kylie, she detected the warmth and adoration in his voice. Despite his attempts to downplay it, it was clear that he cared deeply for her, even loved her. And while a tinge of jealousy stirred within her, after all, she was only human, she felt thankful knowing that someone had been looking after him, someone who maybe loved him just as much as she did.

Zach directed his attention back to his laptop and Alex observed him, her thoughts drifting back to the task at hand. A faint twitch danced across her lip as he reprimanded her for her assumption, and she bit back another inappropriate response, choosing instead to nod in acknowledgment, a barely audible hum escaping from between her lips. Zach settled on a selection and began to explain it, suggesting that it might offend her. Alex interjected with a roll of her eyes. “Oh God,” she exclaimed, unable to suppress the exasperation in her tone. As the music began to play from the speakers, she tipped her head backward, allowing her gaze to drift up towards the ceiling above. She managed to make it through the first few lyrics without much of a response, but as the song continued, the blatant mention of her name caused her to snap upright, her jaw dropping in shock.

Her doe eyes widened with disbelief as she listened, each word of the song feeling like a punch to the gut. With each passing second, the realization of what Zach had created sank in deeper, leaving her feeling stunned and slightly irritated. Meanwhile, Zach appeared utterly amused, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he watched her reaction. Alex reached beside her for a pillow and hurled it at Zach, ensuring her aim was spot-on as it connected with his face. “You’re a little shit. You know that?” she exclaimed, her tone laced with playful indignation. “You should be thanking your lucky stars that I don’t write music of my own. I’d read you to filth. Actually, nevermind. I don’t need to. Someone already beat me to the punch.” With a quick glance around the room, Alex called out to the imaginary device, adding a theatrical flourish to her request. “Alexa,” she proclaimed, “Play ‘Your Woman’ by Lola Fonseca.”

[fbfh]

peter parker x (gn) stark!reader crush hcs

wc: 1.5k

genre/au: pining, fluff, crushing hard, ambiguous canon compliance, socialite/heir/nepotism baby au

pairing: peter parker x stark!reader, dad!tony stark + familial!reader

warnings: one use of "it girl" cause I couldn't find a better phrase, peter parker is a simp, tony stark is a good dad, vague allusions to pre infinity war, mentions of the stark internship and going on missions, I think that's it??

summary: peter parker is down real bad for you. it's only when you come face to face that he realizes tony stark/iron man my boss is also tony stark/iron man my celebrity crush's dad and god he wants to make a good impression on you

song rec: treat you better - shawn mendes (mentioned), spider man too: 2 many spidermen - the unbreakable kimmy schmidt (just cause I think of it every time I hear spiderman)

a/n: on a spider man kick!!! i watched homecoming yesterday and can't stop thinking about it, probably going to binge watch the tobey maguire and andrew garfield spider man movies this weekend lol

also I'm on another wave of marvel hyperfixation!!! half way through black panther and it is worth every rave review it's gotten I wanna watch vine compilations with shuri

tags @afidiofobia @thatmultifandomloser @babiesimagines @lizziebitch33 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl

Tony stark has been through a lot

He's very protective over the people he loves

And rightfully so

No matter how you came into his life

Whether your mom was the love of his life, the one fling he never stopped thinking about, the one that got away

And he somehow ended up with custody of you

Or if he and Pepper finally tied the knot and had you, their little bundle of joy

Or if he adopted you, little orphan Annie style

Regardless of how and when you came into his life

You are his pride and joy

Suddenly all of Stark industries only means something to him because it's a way to provide for you

Yeah the whole entire world is great

But you are who he fights for

You are the reason he wears the suit and keeps things safe and peaceful

Not without a good fight, and not without the rest of the avengers ofc

But at the end of the day, he wants you safe and happy

He'll go to extreme measures to make sure you are always safe and taken care of

Plus, god he loves spoiling you

He really never expected having a kid to be so much fun

You’re probably the coolest person he knows

And he’s been around the block a few times

With how protective he is you'd expect him to be pretty strict

No dating no parties

But no

He makes sure you're always totally informed, prepared, and safe

That way you can go live life to the fullest

Plus it would be really hypocritical of him to say you can't party and break hearts

Look at his track record

And you have such a good head on your shoulders

You're so smart and responsible

He has no idea where you get it from

The sense of humor and charisma, sure

But you're just so… good

You're such a good kid

That has to be all your mom

(It’s a little bit him too but he doesn't believe that yk)

Literally you can have and do anything you want

And what hurts is how you never ask for anything

You're so humble and grateful

That's your mother too

He has no idea how you're turning out to be such a good kid, but he hopes he's doing something right

You trust each other implicitly

Between all the shit you've been through, and all the shit he's been through, he kept as much of your childhood private as he could

Basically no one even knew he had a kid until you were in high school

By the time you were old enough to drive he was a little more laid back with the whole privacy thing

But it's something you really value too

You have like 1 public social media account

Which you barely even post on

Regardless of if you’re more of a stem or arts and humanities person

Or neither

Or both

Once you hit high school and people found out Tony Stark has a kid

Absolute media circus

You were what everyone was talking about

For a long time

And you’re still a point of conversation to this day

Even if you do absolutely nothing

If you fly under the radar as much as you can

You’re still something of an it girl

New York’s sweetheart if you will

You’re regularly in teen magazine articles as a style icon

Your pictures are ALL over pinterest

People on tiktok have made so many -core nepotism baby aesthetic outfit inspo <3 videos about you

You’re frequently used as a background for hot girl whisper posts too

But in spite of all that

There’s probably not much public information known about you

Yk the whole privacy thing

You’re a hot enigmatic gorgeous mystery

If you’re anything like your dad you’re probably known for flipping off the paparazzi on more than one occasion too

You’ve caught the attention of many people

Including the parasocial affection of a nerdy guy from queens

The same nerdy guy who’s recently gotten an internship with your dad

When I tell you Peter Parker has the biggest crush on you

That doesn’t even do it justice

He has all your pictures as rotating wallpapers on his phone and computer

He regularly scrolls through your public social media

He’s made a playlist with all the songs and bands you’ve either worn t shirts/merch for or referenced

He falls asleep basically every night thinking about you

Literally he couldn’t imagine a more perfect person if he tried

You sound like something 12 year old him would have made up

The drop dead gorgeous heir/socialite nepotism baby of Tony Stark??????

Sign him the fuck up

He wonders if you like spider man

He wonders that regularly

When he’s spacing out in class he’s definitely thinking about you

He’s probably thinking about rescuing you as spider man

He’d get you out of the way in the nick of time

You’d cling to him as he holds you close to his chest, web swinging away from the imminent danger

The way you’d be swept off your feet, wanting to see him again

How you just couldn’t get the charming plucky upstart off your mind

Then you’d of course ask your dad to pull a few strings so you could see him again

Maybe he’d refuse, playing the strict parent role

But you’d find a way

Love always finds a way

There would always be some sort of balcony soliloquy

Sometimes it would feel very romeo and juliet

Other times it would be the scene leading up to a whole new world from aladdin practically beat for beat

He doesn’t even know if your room has a balcony

But he feels like it probably does

Ned agrees you’d probably have a balcony

When dating rumors start going around

Whether they’re true or not

He goes through a mini heartbreak every time

After reading every article he can find about you and whoever

Idk an actor, a tiktok influencer, another nepotism baby

Treat you better by shawn mendes is on repeat for at least two days

May has picked up on this pattern

If she sees dating rumors before he does

When he comes home she has a hug and his favorite takeout ready to go

His notes are full of doodles of you

Comics of spider man rescuing you

Usually stick figures

They’re still pretty cute

For some reason he doesn’t connect Tony Stark my celebrity crush’s dad with Mr. Stark aka Iron Man the guy basically training me to be an avenger

So at one point he gets a call that they need him for a mission

Tony informs him that someone will be there to pick him up, so be ready

Thankfully school is basically over

So when he’s heading to his locker and hastily texting Ned an apology for bailing on their movie plans

He hears his name

“I’m looking for Peter Parker?”

His locker door is closed and he

He can’t believe what he’s seeing

It’s you

Oh god it’s you

Live and right in front of him and god you smell really good

“Hi.” you begin, introducing yourself

“My dad - Mr. Stark,” you correct, in case he has no idea who the fuck you are

As if that could happen

“Sent Happy to pick us up.”

He’s barely able to process what you’re saying

You’re so pretty and so real and you’re standing so close to him

“...really important internship related stuff came up. He needs us both at the compound asap.”

You wink at him, an understated gesture that anyone else would have missed, clarifying beyond doubt this is in actuality avengers business

He fumbles out some reply, pulse racing, cheeks burning up

God you’re so much prettier in person

And you look a lot taller in photos

He doesn’t have time to dwell on the thought as you hand him a cup

“Oh, I got you a coffee - hope you like lattes.”

You take a sip of your own beverage and start to walk away

You turn back after a second

“You coming?”

Happy gives him a look like come on kid, we don’t have all day

“R-right!” he sputters following you out of the building

He realizes this is it

It’s go time

Every hope and dream and wish to meet you has amalgamated to this moment

Now he just has to make a good impression

Make you think he’s totally cool and charming

And not at all an absolute dork

That shouldn’t be hard at all right??

He sure hopes not

[kookieswan]

Red Light - Twisted Hearts

Nightmare!Hoseok x Psychologist!Reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Genre: Horror AU, Monster AU, Psychological horror, the angst is real, fluffy…? Kind of?

Warnings: A LOT this time. Talk of sexual harassment toward MC including inappropriate touching, death/murder/mutilation, blood/gore, body horror. It gets descriptive so please keep that in mind. It should be noted that this story will contain themes of horror/psychological horror and also explore obsessive behaviors and codependency. Many characters are morally gray. Please be warned!

Summary: You ran out of the room without a second thought. You ran down the halls as quickly as you could. You ran and ran and ran right into what would become a dead man’s casket.

Notes: This one goes hard and I’m proud of it. Sorry for the wait everyone! This takes place directly after ‘Twisted Hands’. As always, feedback is appreciated 😌

This is the 20th part of the Red Light series. Find the Masterlist here ♥️

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

“Hoseok…! HOSEOK!” It comes out a shrill whisper, the halls echoing the sound of your harsh breathing and clacking heels. You’re not sure exactly where he’s going but you have a very good guess. Rounding another corner, you spot a door with the name Andrews scraped onto it and start to approach quickly.

You dislike the man very much, that’s true. Enough to sentence him to death…? Not quite. You’d like to think you know Hoseok well enough by now to know that things aren’t going to go swimmingly. The Nightmare calm and doesn’t often resort to violence, but…

“Hoseok…? I’m going to get fired aren’t I…” It’s clear at this point that there’s a high certainty that he’s likely already killed Andrews and nothing but a corpse remains behind that door… And potentially a number of other dead people who got in his way. Thankfully, there isn’t any blood on his office door as you reach for it, and so you slowly creak it open only to be met with a Hoseok’s bare back.

“Ahhh, there she is. I knew you wouldn’t be far behind me dearest.” Hoseok stands in the middle of the office, jumpsuit hanging off his waist, wings spanning the room like a barrier. To you, it’s a clear sign that he’s aggravated, that one wrong move could lead to a very nasty slaughter. To Andrews, well, it must seem harmless because as you peak around the Nightmare, he continues to sit at his desk with his hands folded pleasantly. A tried and true idiot if you���ve ever met one.

“Well, go ahead. Ask my pretty doctor for forgiveness. You’re so good at running your mouth, it shouldn’t be too hard.” The Nightmare twists around the desk with what sounds like a smile to his voice, slowly circling the only barrier between them to stand next to Andrews. Said man stares up at Hoseok with raised brows, as if he’s shocked to hear the words. Deciding it’s best not to intervene for now, you step forward just enough to close the door behind you with a click.

“W-What?!” It comes out rather rudely, voice completely disbelieving. It almost makes you laugh, but it would be rude to laugh at a man’s death sentence. Either way, you also know there’s no way that this man would ever apologize for touching you in a million years. Not without being pushed to, not without Hoseok violently ripping him from his chair and shoving him toward the middle of the room. You wince as he hits his hip against the desk harshly, trying to feel more bad than you really do.

“I’m telling you to ask her for her forgiveness. Have you gone deaf or are you just stupid?” Hoseok breathes over his shoulder, standing directly behind him and… Slightly taller than usual? Taller enough for it to be noticeable. Andrews goes to turn, which causes Hoseok to shove him to the floor as you take a small step forward. The situation is delicate right now, and you’re not sure how to fix it.

“Oh, I don’t think so. You’re going to grovel on your knees and beg like the disgusting maggot you are.” Andrews tries to make himself comfortable on his now bruised knees, wiggling around as Hoseok holds him by his thinning hairline. If the Nightmare clenches any harder, he’ll likely rip all the man’s hair out, if not worse. Andrews finally stills and looks up at you, a snarl maiming his already unpleasant face. In turn, you try your best to look passive.

“Please Doctor _____, forgive me.” It’s monotone, lacking any emotion. If you don’t know what you were talking about, you’d swear Andrews was a Nightmare with how absolutely botched his morals seem to be. This doesn’t seem to please Hoseok at all, so he brings his fist down harshly to bonk the other man’s head. It would be comical if he wasn’t about to commit homicide.

“You can do better than that Andrews. Don’t you feel bad for harassing her like the sexist pig you are? For putting your revolting hands on her? Apologize and make it right. A gift of peace, if you will.” It’s then you realize… Hoseok is giving him a chance to get out of this safely. In extension, he’s trying to give you what you want, trying to please your morals… It stuns you, but not nearly as much as Andrews following words. Words that damn him to a terrible fate.

“You know what? No, I think she deserved it.” The room is very quiet after that, and you feel dread fill your body at a terrifying rate. Hoseok tilts his head downward, black eyes boring down into Andrews skull, wings drawing inward and making the most uncomfortable cracking noises.

“… Excuse me?” Steady. His voice is steady but that doesn’t hide the rage that radiates behind it. Andrews tries to claw at Hoseok’s arm wildly, like a stray cat with rabies and maybe twenty other diseases, but Hosoek doesn’t stagger. He just holds him as Andrews throws a fit, very similar to what a child might do. You take the opportunity to step back and lean against the door, knowing the next few minutes are likely going to be questionable. You can’t fix it, not anymore.

“You heard me you fucking demon scum. You were asking for it, weren’t you sweetheart? Always wearing those tight little blouses and skirts like a slut.” This actuslly does make you snort as the other doctor leers at you, knowing fully well that you’re outfits are more than appropriate for the workplace. Even if you were to wear a miniskirt and tube-top, that doesn’t give him the right to say the shit he is. Still, you try to get him to shut up, at least so his body isn’t completely torn to shreds.

“Andrews, I think it’s best you stop talking. Immediately.” It comes our rushed, full of uncertainty; not for yourself but for Andrews. He may be a piece of shit but you don’t think he realizes just how screwed he really is now. It’s like he’s asking for it. Hoseok finally looks at you, gentle smile on his face, small dimples indenting his cheeks. You ignore the way the corners of his mouth start to split open, how his claws start to dig into the other man’s skin like pins on a cushion.

“Dear. Close your eyes on the count of three, hmm? I think he wants me to give you a more personal gift.” Gaping at him, you start to stutter out that it’s okay, that he doesn’t have to kill him. Andrews continues to yell as your Nightmare shakes his head slowly, the markings on his chest starting to spread outward to his arms. Inky black swirls around his pretty caramel skin, slowly covering the surface in shadows.

“One.”

“Hoseok, really I don’t think this is necessary. I’m sure Andrews feels sorry-“ Hoseok lifts Andrews from the ground with a single hand by the neck, choking him enough to make him cough and flail like a rag doll. The next number comes out deeper and unlike his own, the Nightmares wings closing in on Andrews, the once full bone becoming sharpened.

“Two.”

“The only thing I’m sorry about is having to work with the likes of you, you bit-“ You cringe, unsure if you even want to be in the room anymore. Hoseok doesn’t even look like himself, letting what must be something along the lines of his true form take over. It cracked bone and flesh and blood and- you shake your head, voice getting caught in your throat as the last number rings out like a demented chime.

“Three.”

Clenching your eyes shut, you try not to listen too closely but it’s unavoidable. The scream is cut off rather quickly; shrill and then nothing but choked gurgling noises. Theres a thumping noise, something getting closer to you, crawling…? You curl tightly inward as there’s another shriek, and then more cracking. A warm wetness splatters across your body suddenly, the feeling of it on your face making you flinch violently. What follows is a few more cracks, tearing, crunching, but you ignore it as you slide to the floor in a messed up sort of relief.

Andrews won’t harass you anymore. He’s dead. He won’t touch you. He’s dead. He won’t talk to you. He’s dead. He won’t even look at you. But that’s only because he’s dead because of you. If you had kept your mouth shut…

Testing the murky waters, you open your eyes slowly, wiping away the blood that threatens to cake them shut like old tears. Glancing behind where Hoseok stands, you see mangled pieces of Andrews all around the room. An arm here, a head there, flesh on nearly everything. Blinking your eyes quickly, you’re only met with red when you glance around fully. Red walls, red flooring, and a very red Hoseok.

The blood covers him even more than yourself, his chest having frantic smear marks all over it. There’s a hum from the man, sounding more like himself then as he steps closer to you. He’s drenched in gore, yes, but he smiles down at you nonetheless, extending an arm toward you and looking completely normal otherwise. The Nightmare holds something in his hand, something that’s thumping with the remnants of life… A heart. A present. And then he clenches his fist and crushes it, more blood splattering on you as he drops it to the floor with a gross squish.

It’s enough to make you tear up finally, and ugly sob rising to your chest as he crouches down just enough to pick you up into his arms. You cling to him, sobbing into his neck as a litany of emotions overtake you, breathing gasps and huffs because you just can’t calm down. Not like this. Not now. He holds you tightly, whispering surprisingly soothing words into your ears. It shouldn’t comfort you, not in the slightest with all of the fallout that will come with this, but it does.

“Shh, it’s okay dearest. Let it out. He’s gone, and I’m here. I’ll always be here. Always.”

[queen-haq]

Fic: A Woman Reborn (Part 1)

Fic: A Woman Reborn (Part 1)

Pairing: Billy Russo X Reader (from A Woman Scorned)

Rating: R / 18+ only

A/N: This is a sequel to A Woman Scorned and takes place a few years after the events of AWS. You can read AWS here.

Summary: You and Billy are happily married when tragedy strikes, jeopardizing your relationship and everything you two have built together. Can the two of you find your way back to each other or is the special bond you once shared broken forever?

gif credit: @barnesdaily​

Then…

You were pissed. In five days you were supposed to marry Billy and start your lives together but there he was, standing at the tiki bar, flirting it up with the bartender. Jealous fury coursed through you, seeing him laugh and charm the hot blonde. You knew he was deliberately putting on a show because he was angry with you, he’d clocked your entrance the second you entered the beachside bar - but it still irritated you and you had enough of it. Well, two could play that game.

You turned around and headed to the bar that was on the opposite end of the resort, a safe distance away from Billy and his stupid antics.

The breeze from the ocean had a slight chill to it. You contemplated going back to your room to pick up a shawl but decided against it. As you passed by several of the other guests heading to dinner, they greeted you with a smile and nod. An older couple walked ahead of you, hands intertwined together, laughing and chatting. It warmed your heart to see them, but it also saddened you. Would that ever be you and Billy? Right now, you didn’t think so.

The poolside bar was crowded, filled with people partying and socializing. You took a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself to get into “work” mode. You were a great schmoozer, it just wasn’t an inherent part of your personality and you actively had to work at it. But forcing yourself to have a good time was better than being stuck in your room and seething at Billy.

Spotting a group of people at the bar you and Billy had chatted with earlier, you made your way towards them.

An hour later you were on your third drink and actually having a great time with a guy named Andrew when you felt someone’s arm snake around your waist. Billy. He pulled you close, your back flush against his chest, his way of reminding you that you were his.

“Having a great time?” Billy asked.

Oh, he was pissed. You could hear it in his voice right away even though he sounded perfectly friendly to everyone else. “Wonderful time,” you replied flippantly, not turning around.

“Andrew, right?” Billy asked, extending his hand out to the guy in front of you. “We met at the lobby bar earlier.”

Andrew shook his hand, oblivious to the tension in the air. “Yeah, I remember. Billy. Feeling better? Your wife said you came down with something.”

“We’re not married,” you said, deliberately goading Billy.

“Not yet.” Moving to stand beside you, he planted a hard kiss on your bare shoulder. “Looks like you’re taking good care of her though. Where’s your wife?”

“Oh, she’s around here somewhere.”

Billy dipped his head to the side. “Maybe you should go look for her and leave mine alone.”

Finally sensing the hostility, Andrew mumbled, “Alright man, see you around,” and left right away.

You took a sip of your drink, purposely ignoring Billy which he didn’t like. Not at all.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

You shrugged your shoulders. “Enjoying myself.”

“Clearly.” His dark eyes blazoned with rage, peering at you closely. “If this is you getting cold feet, get the fuck over it. You’re marrying me. No matter what.”

“Oh, were you discussing the wedding when you were flirting with the bartender?”

Eyebrow cocked, he gave you a smug grin. “Saw that, did you?”

“Disappointed I didn’t stab her?”

“Always.” He took the drink from your hand and finished it off in one swig. “Are you still planning to stick to the ridiculous no-sex rule?”

You shot him a dirty glance before standing up to leave. “You might as well go back to the bartender. That’s the only way you’re getting any.”

As you made your way out of the bar, he came up from behind and grabbed your elbow to spin you around. “Why you pushing me away?”

“What are you talking about?”

He glared at you, leaning in close. “You spring this whole no-sex thing out of the blue-”

“I just wanted our first night as a married couple to be special. You’re acting like I asked you to be celibate for a fucking year! It would only be until the wedding.”

“Yeah well, that’s too fucking long.” His eyes trailed down to your breasts, inhaling you in. You’d chosen to wear a strapless maxi dress for dinner on your first night in Barbados, and while it was loose and comfortable it also required a strapless push-up bra which did wonders for your cleavage. “You look like this and then tell me I can’t fuck you?”

You tried to hold on to your anger but it was difficult, especially considering the look of pure lust on Billy’s face. “There are couples that don’t have sex for months,” you pointed out.

With every step that he advanced towards you, you retreated backwards, taunting him.

“That’ll never be us.” His voice was hoarse as his fingers linked with yours, his arm encircling your back. “And you don’t want that anyway.”

“No, but I do want us to wait. It’s only five days.”

“Five days of fucking torture,” he grumbled.

He led you to the beach, the sounds of waves crashing against the ocean calming your nerves. The beach was dark and isolated, a picturesque heaven with a full moon shining amongst a thousand stars. You followed behind Billy as he tugged you to a nearby lounge chair and the two of you lied down, wrapped in each other’s arms, both watching the sky together.

Cold, you clung to him while he rubbed your arms and back. “Sometimes I can’t believe we’re actually here.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, lips grazing your temple.

“That we’re together, we’re getting married.”

“You’ll be mine. Legally.”

You chuckled. “I don’t think marriage gives you ownership over me.”

“Whatever.” He took your hand and kissed the tips of your fingers. “Legal or not, I own every fucking inch of you.”

“Every inch, huh?” You teased, sitting up and shifting your body so that you were now straddling him. “What about this part?” Your fingers smoothed down your neck, his hungry gaze following your movement.

“Mine.”

Eyes locked with his, you shimmied the top of your dress down, exposing your satin push-up bra. He reached out to caress your boobs but you slapped his hand away. “Can’t touch. That’s the rule.”

“So you can touch me all you want but I can’t do the same?”

“Bride’s prerogative.” Your hips started grinding against his, deliberately slowing your movements atop him so you could feel his erection through all the layers of clothing between you. “Just because we can’t fuck doesn’t mean we can’t have fun.”

His fingers tightly clenched the arms of the chair, his face tense as you continued to tease him.

Your hands gripped his stomach as you circled your hips in the other direction. “Think it’ll always be like this between us?”

“Always.”

“Maybe you’ll wake up one day and decide you don’t want to get married.”

He groaned, and you could see he was trying to focus on your words and not give into the fucking ecstasy from your hips rolling atop his erection. “Never… gonna… happen.”

Pressure spooled in your stomach as your wetness soaked through your panties and onto his shorts, both of your breaths coming out in short spurts.

“Want to be inside you,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

You shook your head. “No. Not allowed.”

“Then let me see your pussy.” His teeth pulled at his bottom lip, eyes pleading with you. “Let me eat you out.”

Before you could respond he was lifting you by the waist and dragging you close and then you were on his face and his mouth was between your thighs and he was fucking you with this tongue and you were screaming with pleasure at everything he was doing to you. But the voice in your head didn’t want to give up full control, no, absolutely not, and despite your trembling knees you picked yourself up and maneuvered yourself around atop his face. As he fucked you with his tongue, you unzipped his shorts, took his cock in your mouth and started sucking him off, leading to one of the most erotic experiences you’d shared with him.

He came first in your mouth, you followed shortly after, and by the time your hearts had stopped pounding and some semblance of reality returned it was minutes later and he was spooning you from behind.

“Five days is too long.”

You turned around in his arms, facing him. “I just gave you a blow job and that’s still not enough?” You pouted.

His eyes brimmed with emotion as he studied you. “It’s never enough. I could fuck you every day and every night and I’d still want more of you. Always. That’ll never change.”

“How can you be so sure?” You sounded so vulnerable even to your own ears, you couldn’t imagine how pathetic you must have sounded to him.  

He lifted your chin to meet his eyes, his gaze intent. “Because I love you.”

Those were words he didn’t say often, it had taken him a long time to even admit he felt that way about you, but every time he vocalized them your heart swelled and you were ready to burst with happiness.

“And I always will. Nothing’s gonna change that. And I don’t want to wait another five days to make you mine.”

“I’m already yours, remember?” You dropped a tender kiss on the tip of his nose.

“Marry me.”

You chuckled. “We already did this bit? You slipped the ring on my finger when I was sleeping. Told me I had to marry you, you wouldn’t accept no for an answer?”

“I mean marry me tomorrow, not five days from now.”

“Billy, our friends are flying down here to see us get married. We can’t just push up the wedding-”

“We can put on a show for them too, but let’s do something with just the two of us. Tomorrow.”

You saw the rush of excitement on his face, the way his eyes lit up in the dark - but the realist in you warned you to temper his expectations. “Is all this just because you want to get laid sooner? Fine. Forget the no-sex rule-”

He pressed his finger against your lips. “No, has nothing to do with that.” He sat up partially, resting his weight on his elbow. Forehead creased with worry, he watched you intently. “Don’t you wanna marry me?”

“Of course I do. You know that.”

“Good, because you don’t have a choice.”

You ruffled his hair playfully. “Do I ever?”

“So we’ll get married tomorrow.” He kissed your hand. “And you’ll be mine. Forever.”

You smiled, feeling closer to him than you ever had before. Closing your eyes, you snuggled him tightly.

***

The wedding ceremony took place the next night in one of the private gardens at the resort, under the stars, with the Marriage Officer officiating and with two members of the resort staff serving as witnesses. You wore a red slip dress and he wore his pin-striped suit and you couldn’t remember the last time he looked so elated. You were not the type of couple to write your own vows but when he promised to love and cherish you as long as he lived you knew he meant every word of it. As did you.

After the wedding the two of you slow danced in the gazebo, without any music, simply holding each other in the moonlight. And by time the two of you reached your suite, your clothes were already ripped off and you two were clawing at each other. You didn’t make it to the bed, barely even making it inside the suite.

It was the first night of the rest of your life together, and it was the happiest you’d ever been.

***

Now…

“Are you okay?”

Matt Murdock’s words brought you out of your reverie. You gave him a small smile, nodding your head. “I’m fine.”

He leaned in to whisper in your ear. “Do you need a break?”

“No, let’s just get this over with.”

Although hesitant, he resumed the negotiation with the opposing lawyer sitting across from you. 

Throughout the talks, you felt Billy’s eyes on you. As much as your heart wanted to believe he was watching you like he used to before the accident, his molten eyes full of love and lust, you knew that wasn’t the case. These days he only looked at you with contempt and anger, like you were the bane of his existence.

When a short break was ordered, you rushed out of the boardroom. The walls felt like they were closing in, you couldn’t breathe.

“Here,” Matt said, giving you a bottle of water.

Despite his lack of sight, Matt seemed to always know when you were struggling. It was like he had a sixth sense when it came to people’s emotions, probably why you and him became fast friends after Karen introduced you a few months ago.

“We don’t have to go through with this,” he advised. “It isn’t too late. Just tell me you want Anvil-”

“No. I’m tired of dragging this out. I just want to move on.”

“You helped make the company what it is now. Half of it’s rightfully yours.”

You shook your head ‘no’. “I want to cut all ties with him.”

On cue you felt Billy’s eyes on you, standing at the other end of the room. His face was beautiful as always despite the scars from the accident, and when you looked at him long enough you could almost convince yourself he was the man you fell so deeply in love with, the man you married. Except he wasn’t, and hadn’t been in the last two years. He was no longer your Billy and it was time to face that reality.

An hour later the negotiations were finally complete and the two of you had reached a settlement. After the documents were filed, you and Billy would be officially divorced.

Four and a half years of marriage obliterated in the span of an afternoon.

You could see the relief on Billy’s face as he left the room with his lawyer, his happiness at finally being rid of you. Even though it had been your idea to draw up a prenup in the first place, you had fought against it as your way of buying more time and holding onto the marriage. Maybe Billy would be himself again, maybe he’d remember you and love you like he once did. But your altercation with him last week had finally shown you that he was a changed man.

You didn’t cry after the accident. When Billy was in a coma for weeks after the crash, you didn’t cry then either. You stayed strong and reminded yourself he would come out of it. Because this was Billy. Your Billy. And he wasn’t going to let an accident take away everything he worked so hard for. When he regained consciousness and it soon became apparent he’d lost large fragments of his memory – including all reminders of you – you still clung to hope. You didn’t give into tears.

But right now, as Matt walked alongside you to your car, you finally fell apart. The tears rushed out, your knees gave way and you fell to the ground and sobbed for your husband. Matt held you tightly and tried his best to console you, but the grief was overwhelming. Because it hit you at long last that Billy was gone. The man you loved more than life itself was dead.

All remnants of him had disappeared and the love that you shared with him no longer existed.

To be continued...

A/N - Um, thoughts???

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