#I have everyone else’s Planned out for the most part | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ravensuperr · 1 day ago

Text

Gotham Baby Switch Mystery (DCXDP) - Part 2

Inside the Infinite Realms, Clockwork was furiously sifting through timelines. An emergency meeting had been called, not just with the most powerful ghosts, but also with immortal demons and anyone else with the authority to intervene. There had been a monumental error in this timeline, and Clockwork had just discovered who was responsible. Worse, there was no way to undo the damage. The misstep had been made, and now they had no choice but to move forward and manage the consequences.

As the ancient beings gathered, the Head Observer turned to Clockwork, his voice filled with urgency.

Head Observer: "Clockwork, have you figured out how this error happened? We were all in agreement with Lady Gotham’s plan for this timeline. Even the ancient ghosts—we all agreed. How did this happen? And more importantly, how did Lady Gotham not realize what went wrong before it was too late? Our chosen warrior has already received their powers."

Clockwork: (sighing deeply) "There’s only one being who could cause this chaos and see the oversight. And with this realization, I now know who’s behind it." (Clockwork’s voice turned cold) "It’s Eris."

Head Observer: "Eris? No. Even she knows better than to step out of line with the Infinite Realms’ balance. Why would she do this? No—don’t answer that. I already know the answer."

Clockwork: "Exactly. Something else is at play here. Because of Eris’s meddling, we are now in full damage control mode. We must use every artifact, every being, every Neverborn, and every demon—everyone must pitch in. Not just to appease Lady Gotham, but to prevent the end of the world."

Head Observer: "Clockwork, do you know how this will unfold? Do you know what events will lead to the coming disaster?"

Clockwork: (pauses, his expression grim) "I haven’t figured out the exact events yet. However, I do know it involves an artifact—the Reality Gauntlet. That’s all I can say for now. Eris’s interference has clouded the timeline, making it difficult for me to see the full picture. It might take days—or even weeks—to understand how everything fits together. For now, we focus on damage control."

Just as Clockwork finished speaking, Deadman appeared within the Infinite Realms, specifically in Clockwork’s domain, and he came with an urgent message.

Deadman: "Ancient ones, I bring news from the Justice League Dark. The supernatural community has sensed something amiss. Even members of the Justice League—those tied to the Green Lantern Corps, the Amazons, the Atlanteans, and other extraterrestrial beings—are feeling the growing dread. It’s as if the beginning of the end has already started. I come to ask for clarification. You see, John Constantine—"

Head Observer: "John Constantine? You mean the mortal who sells his soul every chance he gets, using his silver tongue to get out of his deals? He’s heard of the prophecy."

Deadman: (responding) "Yes, he has."

Clockwork: (dryly) "Constantine. Of course, he has. What is it this time?"

Deadman: (seriously) "It’s a prophecy about a warrior—not from the land of the living, nor from the Infinite Realms—who will defeat Pariah Dark, the Ghost King, in single combat. This prophecy is one we all agreed upon when Prometheus shared his last prophecy before his core was shattered by Pariah Dark. But Constantine was also told of another prophecy, one that mentions the Wrath of Lady Gotham."

Clockwork: (narrowing his eyes) "That prophecy about the warrior defeating Pariah Dark is true. It happens in every timeline. It’s an event we can’t change. The warrior will always defeat Pariah Dark in single combat and become the new ruler of the ghosts of the Infinite Realms. That is set. However, the mention of Lady Gotham is the deviation—the change that none of us expected. That is the new variable we need to deal with. That prophecy was never part of the original plan."

Deadman: (pausing) "So what does that mean for us? For this timeline?"

Clockwork: (gravely) "It means that the interference of Gotham—specifically Lady Gotham and her warriors—has set off a chain of events that we cannot fully comprehend yet. I need you to deliver this message to Constantine. Word for word. Let him know that the prophecy about the warrior defeating Pariah Dark is true, but the role of Lady Gotham in this timeline is the wildcard. He must understand that this is not just about a warrior’s victory; it’s about the fate of all realms, and Gotham’s wrath may become the catalyst for destruction."

Deadman: (nodding) "Understood. I’ll make sure Constantine knows exactly what’s at stake."

Clockwork’s tone softened slightly, but the weight of what he was about to say still hung heavily in the air.

Clockwork: "The original plan, when we first discovered that the warrior was from Gotham and had ties to Lady Gotham’s warriors—specifically to The Dark Knight—was to let the timeline unfold as intended. Yes, the baby swap happened. The child, originally presumed dead, was found again. But when Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul discovered their daughter—living a happy, normal life—they chose not to bring her into their world. A world of assassinations, vigilante work, and endless violence. They decided their daughter would live a peaceful life, away from all of that."

Head Observer: "But that’s not how things happened, is it?"

Clockwork: "No. It isn’t. Their daughter, Danny, went on to live a normal life. The strain between Bruce and Talia has mended, but it’s always been there, lingering. It wasn’t until Damian, their second child, discovered that he had an older sister that the pieces started to fall into place. He wanted to meet her. On the same day that Danny began her transformation into something more—becoming Schrödinger's cat, a being who is both alive and dead, with all the advantages and disadvantages of those two worlds."

Deadman: (frowning) "So Danny’s ghost powers were triggered at the same time?"

Clockwork: "Yes. And this is where things went off course. Danny is now discovering her ghost powers. And with the knowledge that her biological family is essentially going to undo everything, we face our only chance of defeating Pariah Dark when he awakens from his eternal slumber. But now, everything is in jeopardy. We are managing this situation, but time is running out."

Head Observer: (concerned) "You said something about a man-made portal. What does that have to do with all of this?"

Clockwork: (pauses, his eyes narrowing) "A man-made portal has been opened somewhere near the Americas. But I cannot tell you the exact location yet. What I can tell you is that the Americas are facing a blackout, which stretches across several states. The power grid failure is caused by a faulty electrical wire, but we cannot rule out the possibility that it is connected to the man-made portal. The location of the portal coincides with the area where Danny lives. However, no one knows for certain if the power outage is caused by the portal or by the US power grid failure."

Deadman: (grimly) "So the situation is even more complicated than we thought. What do we do now?"

Clockwork: (pauses, then speaks more quietly) "We are sending someone to protect Danny. A spirit guide, a mentor, someone to safeguard her as she navigates these dangerous waters. You must tell Constantine that the ancient beings are intervening, and we will not let her face this alone. Gotham must be appeased. And we must ensure that Danny does not fall victim to the chaos unfolding."

Deadman: (nodding) "I’ll make sure Constantine knows everything. And I’ll make sure he understands how critical this is for the entire multiverse."

Clockwork nodded, his expression hardening.

Clockwork: "Then go. We have no time to waste."

After Deadman had left, the Head Observer turned toward Clockwork, his expression stern, a growing tension in his voice.

Head Observer: "Clockwork, now that Deadman is gone, I must ask you—why were you so vague about the location of our Chosen One? I understand not disclosing the exact city where they live, but why only mention the Americas, specifically the United States? What have you seen so far?"

Clockwork: (pauses, eyes narrowing thoughtfully) "I’ve seen enough to know that there’s a potential that Bruce Wayne might take his daughter back to Gotham. In my heart, I believe that this would be the right choice for her—after all, Gotham is where she belongs. But for the good of the realms, it is not. Not anymore."

The ancient ghost's voice dropped in weight, and he glanced briefly at the dimly lit realms around him, lost in thought.

Clockwork: "I’ve chosen the Neverborn Ghost of Hope—she’s connected to the Blue Lantern Corps. She has the ability to travel through the Multiverse with ease and can bring in heroes from any timeline, any world, any media, or literature. She will help protect our Chosen One."

Head Observer: (nodding slowly) "I see. And what else have you seen? Do you truly believe that following this Chosen One prophecy is the right path, even though we both know that this child—our Chosen One—doesn’t deserve this life, nor did they want it?"

Clockwork: (his gaze hardens, a flash of sadness behind his eyes) "I’ve seen countless timelines of Danny Phantom. And in each one, he/she has risen to the occasion—always standing as a protector of the people, whether from the city or the citizens of the Infinite Realms. Phantom would make a great ruler of the Infinite Realms—one of the best. That doesn’t mean this child won’t face hardship. But each lesson learned, each challenge overcome, brings them closer to understanding what it means to rule."

Clockwork: (continuing) "In fact, it’s because of this child’s growth that we’ve avoided entire wars from breaking out. Wars that would have torn the Infinite Realms apart—wars between us and the United States, possibly Canada as well. I’ve seen timelines where, if Danny hadn’t stepped in, the realms would have been at war with Earth."

The Head Observer absorbed the weight of Clockwork’s words before replying.

Head Observer: "So, what now? Will the events of previous timelines, the ones where Danny becomes Phantom, still unfold? Or will there be new changes?"

Clockwork: "There will be changes. Danny will fight with more intensity than ever before. What I have seen so far is that at some point, she will realize that the man-made portal—the one opening into the Infinite Realms—is, in a twisted way, her grave."

Head Observer: (eyes narrowing in realization) "Ah, yes. I know the custom well. Us Ghosts do not take kindly to those who desecrate or vandalize our own graves."

Clockwork: (nodding slowly) "Exactly. And you know, ghost customs are sacred. We don’t speak of how one dies, even among ourselves. But this revelation will hit Danny hard. She will understand, eventually, that her grave is the portal. And all the ghosts that come through said portal are subconsciously violating one of the sacred rules. It may take some time, but when the right antagonist faces her, she will realize the truth."

Head Observer: (slightly frustrated) "And do you know which antagonist will bring this truth to light?"

Clockwork: "There are a few possible ghosts who might lead her to this understanding. But because of Eris’s meddling, the timeline is still blurry. I won’t know for certain until things calm down."

Head Observer: "So, is our Chosen One in the hospital now?"

Clockwork: "Yes. She’s currently recovering. The Ghost of Medicine is tending to her. As we speak, she’s being cared for by a healer unlike any we've ever seen."

The Head Observer raised an eyebrow, slightly amused.

Head Observer: "Is it… Lady Tsunade? Why does the Ghost of Medicine and Healing look like Lady Tsunade from the world of Naruto? And furthermore, why that form? Why not any regular human form disguise?"

Clockwork: (chuckling lightly) "It seems so. The Ghost of Hope, with her ability to travel across the Multiverse, brought in various images of healers from different timelines. It appears the Ghost of Healing is quite taken with Lady Tsunade’s appearance. At least she's wearing the proper medical attire."

Head Observer: (chuckling as well) "I see. A fitting choice, then."

Clockwork: (grinning faintly) "Indeed."

Head Observer: "So, are we calling the Ghost of Hope by her name or her preferred alias? Since she does seem to enjoy using names from the living world, I assume this is her choice?"

Clockwork: (with a sigh) "Yes, it was her choice. The issue with names is that Neverborn ghosts, who are born from humans concept for example the concept of time, dreams, sleep, anger, hope… we have all been given multiple names throughout the world, and in different religions, our names change as well. It is often that ghosts choose our own names, or because we have multiple names, we just automatically choose the one that we prefer at a given moment. Take me, for example. I've been known as many things, including Kronos, but I’ve never liked that name. I prefer being called Clockwork, though I don’t get to choose what the living world calls me. As for Hope, she’s chosen a name from a universe she’s particularly fond of. And yes, she’s using it as her alias. She’s taken to calling herself Serenity—or Sera, as her nickname."

Head Observer: (chuckling lightly) "Ah, Serenity. I wonder how she’ll manage this responsibility. Or perhaps, how Sera will…"

Clockwork: (smiling softly) "Only time will tell."

Note: Here’s Part 2—I hope you like it! I’m not great with names, so if you have any suggestions for what to call the Head Observer, feel free to share them. If a particular name gets a lot of likes or agreement, I’ll consider changing it in the near future. I also want to clarify that Danny still gets her powers the same way as in the original timeline; what I’m exploring here is the aftermath of that event within the Infinite Realms

Part 3 will build up to Danny getting her powers, and it will also include Bruce and the others meeting Jazz and exploring the Fenton works. It’s possible that Part 3 or Part 4 will feature an interaction with the hospital. Toward the end of Part 3 or the beginning of Part 4, we will see how the Infinite Realms react to the man-made portal being activated in the Fenton works and what the effects are inside the Infinite Realms.

I’ve seen a few prompts and fanfictions that describe what it’s like inside the Infinite Realms when something like this happens, and how they react when they learn that a man-made ghost portal has opened. I really like seeing multiple points of view, so you’ll probably get that in Part 3 or the beginning of Part 4.

#dp x dc #danny phantom #deadman #justice league dark #lady tsunade #clockwork

31 notes · View notes

deathofpeaceofmiiind · 2 days ago

Text

Christmas Eve // Quinn Hughes

be my date this Christmas Eve, be my holiday, my dream

summary: a heavy snowfall changes Quinn’s Christmas plans

warnings: light fluff, kissing and cuddling. Sorry it’s short! I just wanted to post something Christmas themed 🎄

•❅───✧❅✦❅✧───❅•

Quinn paced back and forth in front of the window, his phone glued to his ear. It was Christmas Eve and we were supposed to be heading to Michigan to spend the holidays with his family, but our plans might be changing despite our best efforts. Vancouver was covered in a heavy blanket of snow, not a single car was seen on the road all morning. Quinn gets off the phone, a small exhale left his lips as he walked towards me. I was buried under a blanket with a cup of hot chocolate wrapped around my hands, doing anything I could to stay warm. Christmas music filled the room as I watched Quinn, he was stuck in his own head as he sat down beside me. My eyes never left his face, he bit his lower lip, something I’ve noticed he does when he’s deeply thinking.

“What’s the verdict?”  “Nothing is flying out of the airport right now, so it looks like we might be spending Christmas here.” His voice was low, almost like velvet. His face was hard to read, he looked upset our plans changed but also keen on us just staying in Vancouver. His hand traced small circles around my ankle as he locked his eyes with mine. They were the perfect shade of green, always adapting to whatever emotions he was feeling.

“I’m really sorry.” My heart sunk, I was looking forward to seeing his family again too. His parents welcomed me with open arms and his brothers treated me like I was the sister they never had. All I knew was that I had to help fill the void Quinn was going to feel not being with his family, and those were hard shoes to fill.

“It’s okay.” His words mumbled as he continued to chew on his lower lip. “I’m actually okay with us being here instead.”

Confused by his reaction, my head titled to the side, “what do you mean?”  “Every time we celebrate a holiday, or a birthday, I rarely get to have you alone.” His voice somehow lowered more, it was husky this time, making my stomach flutter. He guided my face towards him, pulling me into a delicate kiss. His lower lip, arguably my favourite part of his body above his belt envelopes my mouth so effortlessly.

We pulled apart briefly, my lips trailing his jaw this time, “that’s the whole point of the holidays though.”  “Yeah but…I’m tired of sharing you with everyone else.” he replied, brushing my hair out of my face so he could admire what was in front of him, “I love that my family adores you but I want you all to myself this Christmas Eve.”

He was right, every time we’ve gone out to celebrate something, we’re surrounded by our friends, his teammates or family. We should be so lucky that we have so many people that love us, but anytime we tried to have a moment alone we were interrupted by someone. Most birthday parties ended up with our friends sleeping on our couches, even our own bed and leaving us somehow separated. This might actually be our first time celebrating something together, with no interruptions.

“This is so tedious.”

I looked over at Quinn who was squinting as he iced some sugar cookies. He looked so adorable in the Christmas sweater I forced him to wear, I was gonna save it for tomorrow but now seemed like the perfect time to wear it. He looked like he belonged in a Christmas hallmark movie.

“You’re doing great.” I commented coming up behind him. He turned around and put some icing on my nose, making me grab some to return the favour.

“Let me taste test.” His tongue ran along my nose as he got rid of the icing. I went to do the same but he ran away from me.

“Quinn, get back here!” I yelled as he made his way into our room. He stopped, laughing like a little child until I pushed him onto the bed. I had him right where I wanted as I crawled over him, licking all the icing off his face. He squirmed but my thighs kept him locked into place. We fell into a fit of laughter, completely enjoying each others company.

“I made a call when you were in the shower.” Quinn said, breaking the silence as he propped himself up with his arm.

“About what?”

“I got the owner to let us have the rink so we can go skate before dinner…maybe pass the puck a little bit.”

“You’re so cute.” I mused, “always thinking about hockey.”

He licked his lips before his bright eyes looked into mine, “I didn’t want to spoil the surprise but I got you new skates I was hoping we could’ve used in Michigan. I guess our arena will have to do.”

A few hours later we were in the Canucks dressing room getting our skates on. Quinn rolled his eyes at me when I said I wanted to sit in JT Millers booth to put my skates on instead of his. He knew he was my favourite player besides him so he let it go. He placed my foot on his lap and he knelt down in front of me and tied my skates up. My stomach flipped just watching him so effortlessly tie them for me. As he finished he sat up and pressed his mouth gently to mine for the hundredth time today, but I didn’t care. My eyes fluttered shut, making me want to savour this moment with him.

“I’m gonna tell JT we kissed in his booth.” I snicked as we walked down the tunnel towards the ice.

Quinn just shakes his head as he opened the bench door for us, “you’re such a brat.”

He grabbed my hand and led me onto the ice. I admired the empty arena, it felt like a completely different place compared to how it was during a game. You could’ve heard a pin drop in here right now. We did a few laps around so I could break in my new skates. I was a pretty decent skater but I felt like Bambi compared to him.

“One on one?”

I just nod as Quinn passed me a stick. It was a little long for me but I was determined to make it work. He dumped a bucket of pucks onto the ice as he began to fish one out with his stick. I watched him, bewildered. The way he controlled the puck was so effortless. He looked up, cheeks flushed as he realized what I was doing.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I replied bashfully, “am I not allowed to admire my boyfriend’s stick work?”

“This is doing it for you?” He smirked, raising his eyebrow. “I do this every night.”

“I know.” I breathed. I’d be lying if I didn’t say watching him play was my biggest turn on, because it definitely was. “I guess I never get tired of it.”

Quinn threw a sarcastic remark at me, I rolled my eyes before he pulled me into a deep kiss. My stick dropped to the ice as my lips parted for his tongue that was begging to enter my mouth. Despite it being cold in here, my cheeks were completely flushed.

“I wanna take you home.”

“Soon.” I replied, grabbing my stick and slowly guiding a puck into the net. We played one on one for a good hour before we decided to go home. Quinn will never admit I scored more on him than he did on me, so I guess that will be our little secret…for now.

Our dinner wasn’t perfect. We had hardly any groceries considering we weren’t supposed to be in town. We found spring rolls in the freezer, made a small charcuterie board with cheese, crackers and grapes we had in the fridge. We polished off a bottle of red wine as we watched a few Christmas movies, both agreeing Christmas Vacation was our favourite. Our hands slowly wandered more and more during the movie as the wine started to hit us. Quinn swooped me up into his arms and brought me into our room, his lips never leaving mine. All the lights were out in our room, all you could see was the snow falling from the sky, Christmas lights in the distance, along with the pale glow of our tree from the living room. It illuminated Quinns face, making his eyes sparkle more that normal.

His movements were so slow, nothing could be heard but our laboured breaths. Quinns face was buried in my neck, his stubble that he’s been growing out more grazed against my skin. It felt rough, but I was so lost in his touch that it didn’t even phase me.

“It’s midnight.” Quinn whispered in my ear, his lips pressing into my neck, “Merry Christmas baby.”

“I’m sorry we couldn’t spend it with your family.”

“It’s okay.” He replies, kissing my forehead before peering into my eyes, “spending today with you was the greatest gift of all.”

Quinn envelopes me into a hug as we began to fall into a blissful sleep, unaware of how much snow would fall during the night. Maybe sugar plums would dance in our heads but all I knew was my heart was full. I didn’t need a bunch of gifts under the tree, I had everything I needed, and he was wrapped up in my arms… the perfect present.

#fanfic #quinn hughes #quinn hughes fanfiction

49 notes · View notes

violenteconomics · 4 hours ago

Note

for cater diamond, it starts like this:

cater diamond is made up of lies.

his hair and outfit are designed to give off an air of carefreeness, even when his heart is tearing his chest into ribbons, perfectly planned down to the tiniest wrinkle. he runs all of his words through his head over and over before he says them, navigating every interaction like he's trying to get the perfect run in a video game (and idia would probably appreciate that metaphor if he heard it, maybe cater should bring it up to him, see how it makes him tick—). even his smile has been meticulously manufactured, every little twitch and idiosyncrasy based on the influencers he sees on magicam.

not that anybody really knows about any of this, of course. he's a professional, after all.

all of that to say that cater is a good liar. a great one, even.

one day, ace walks into the kitchen with serious bed-head, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

cater is leaning against the kitchen counter (looking just ruffled enough to appear as if he's just woken up, but still put-together enough to keep up the chill senior persona he's spent the better part of two years cultivating — a look he's mastered after watching the first ten seconds of neige's "morning routine!" video on loop) when he sees the red-head shambling in.

he smirks (corner of his lips tilted 42 degrees up, eyebrows slanted approximately 12 degrees down) and leans his head against his hand. "what's up, sleeping beauty?"

"good mornin', senior," ace grumbles, sounding way too pissed off to actually mean it.

that's what cater likes the most about ace and deuce. they don't feel the need to mask as much as everybody else does in this school. if they have feelings, they'll let you know it almost immediately — ruthlessly in acey's case, and involuntarily in deucey's case. either way, it's kind of cute.

and refreshing. even cater, social butterfly extraordinare, gets tired of analyzing every little bit of somebody's mood and personality and conversational style, in attempt to weaponize them as he tries to achieve the perfect outcome everytime he talks to someone. after two whole years of trying not to trip over any of riddle's landmines (which were actually just his hundreds upon hundreds of trauma responses, as it turns out), cater would've sworn off talking to anybody for the rest of ever if he weren't more of an expert at deceit than that.

it's easy to talk to ace and deuce, comparatively. if they have an opinion, they make it known, even if it's not night raven college-approved. they don't care about what anybody else thinks. for someone who cares about what everyone thinks at all times with no limits on when, where, or who, it's certainly a novelty.

they're different — but cater likes that. they're emotional. they're understanding. they're great underclassmen, even if they don't realize that (and probably never will, because cater's definitely not gonna say anything about it).

cater scrolls through the "#diybreakfast" tag on magicam to hunt for a cute breakfast place he could snap pics of for some more views. "so how'd'ya sleep? deuce didn't try to wrap you up in his 24/7 study sesh, did he?"

ace puts a hand on the back of his neck and groans. "i slept fine. kept waking up because of deuce's loud-ass chewing, though. seriously, who is that noisy when they're eating blueberries?"

cater laughs and pretends the conversation is over.

pretends he didn't notice the way ace hesitated for the briefest of moments before answering cater's simple question.

pretends he didn't notice the way ace rubbed his neck a little too hard to be casual, as if cater didn't use to have that exact same habit whenever riddle took his collar off of him.

pretends he didn't notice the tiny stutter in ace's "i slept fine".

(pretends he didn't say the exact same words, practically verbatim, every time trey asked him if he slept well during their second year at night raven college.)

(because he's supposed to be the unbothered one. he might actually crumble into a pile of misery if he has to let go of that idea.)

(maybe it's the same for ace, too.)

(it might be fake strength, but it's something to hold onto, nevertheless.)

because nobody else would've noticed that. nobody else craves validation so much to even bother. so if he's pretending to be cool and self-assured and confident and everything else that he's not, why would cater?

"damn it, we're out of cereal." ace groans, slamming the pantry door shut with a bit too much force.

the worst thing about being a great liar?

it's incredibly sobering when you meet someone who is almost as good as you.

I am in dire need of more of that AU that The First years get The upperclassmen toxic traits,i realy want more of It,like;

A way to include octavinelle and scarabia,maybe like,3 First years(Ace,deuce,Jack) get some of azul's toxic traits,other Three(epel,ortho and sebek) get Jamil toxic traits and yuu get both

Second thing

More reactings please,i NEED The staff,ALL The dorms and even the relatives seeing The First years developing those toxic traits,the overblots+Trey and cater for deuce getting their toxic traits right back at their face i beg you🙏🙏

anything 4 u, baby.

(but for real, though, this is an AMAZING idea, love you so much for tilling the ground for my brainwormies, mwah mwah 😘)

(also, this might get REALLY long, so hang tight!)

it was just a seed at first — a tiny idea that stuck around despite the first-years not even realizing it was there. but as the poison from their actual housewardens starts to develop into something truly deadly, so does that seed. it shows up later... but it makes itself known nevertheless.

ace, deuce, and jack have all worked for azul at the mostro lounge at one point, and though it was a very brief moment in time, it was just long enough to worm its way into their heads.

it starts with ace trappola, who's already pretty slippery with his words. but working at the mostro lounge, taking subconscious note of all the underhanded deals azul is making, he starts to pick up new... skills, let's say.

it starts small, with ace starting to give out certain favors to his fellow freshmen to earn some money. if you give him ten thaumarks, he'll do one of your everyday chores for you — dusting your room, cleaning your bathroom, making dinner, what have you. if you give him fifteen thaumarks, he'll do your homework if you don't feel like doing it, or take class notes for you if you don't feel like showing up. if you give him forty, he'll help you with something less-than-moral and definitely against the rules (he did it once back at the atlantica memorial museum — he can do it again).

there's an obvious power imbalance in all of these scenarios, but ace effortlessly words in a way that makes it seem like it's a win-win situation, when in reality, it's more like a zero-sum game.

it gets to the point where ace builds a black-market sort of reputation, and all of the freshmen know that if you need something done, ace is the person to go to.

...but then, something shifts.

at some point, ace starts a black-mailing campaign for the people who paid for the forty-thaumark favor. if you don't want your secret — one that might get you expelled, suspended, or worse — getting out, then you can pay for ace's silence with a favor or more money.

the worst part is: there's no way out. if you try attacking ace, it'll seem like you assaulted him for no reason, since if you try to explain he was blackmailing you, you'll have to tell them what he was blackmailing you with, which you obviously can't do — or else what was even the point? the same rule applies if you try tattling on him to one of the teachers or the housewardens or anybody else. and ace is a better liar than most people will ever be in their lifetime, so it's a losing battle even if you do manage to get someone to take your side.

so if you want to cross the bridge, my sweet, you've got to pay the toll.

(it's not even about the money anymore, really. riddle's thirst for control and azul's desire for recognition have clashed inside of ace in the most violent way, and now, it's all about the power it gives him over other people. and after how powerless he's felt this entire school year, being thrown left and right by overblot after overblot with no say at all, this is a power trip he never wants to come back down from.)

but ace realizes he's making quite a few enemies with his little money-making strategy, and he needs someone to help him just in case someone does come up with a plan to wipe him out. i mean, just look at azul — even with all of the loopholes and leverages in the world, even he was taken down eventually without outside help. if he wants this to last as long as possible, he needs... incentive for people to listen to him.

his own jade and floyd.

his own red-and-black collar.

using his riddle rosehearts-born dominance, and taking advantage of deuce's trey-and-cater-born passiveness, ace convinces deuce spade — one of the strongest people he knows — to help him in his economic ventures.

and deuce, seeing this as a way for ace to vent some frustration and unwilling to be on the other end of ace's ire, hesitantly agrees.

he doesn't piece together that ace is acting suspiciously like azul, but he still recognizes his own role in this whole scheme. ace is running a business, right? and deuce has only ever worked in one business before. he remembers what jade and floyd were like back when he worked under them, and so he uses that experience to inform his new position.

deuce becomes known as ace's right-hand man. he'll hunt you down if you don't pay, and he's not afraid to use force to "compel" you to. there have been stories about cat beastmen getting thrown up into trees and being left there for hours. about students getting forks "accidentally" thrown at them in the cafeteria with such precision, it doesn't really feel like an accident. about a student with a spade on his face who can throw back any attack sent his way with just as much force.

and there's nothing you can do about it, because he's in service to someone who has made himself pretty powerful. ace's silver-tongue gets deuce out of any and all trouble he inevitably finds himself in — and is ace is so brutally honest, why wouldn't people believe him? so even if you try to do something to deuce, ace has his back no matter what — and he'll win almost every time.

you mess with deuce, you mess with ace, which is already bad enough. but if you fuck around with ace, you better be prepared to find out with deuce.

they're a pair — that's always been true. but never before has that fact been so threatening.

jack howl comes next. we all know how much jack despises octavinelle's business model. but, begrudgingly, he will admit there are a lot of things he can learn from octavinelle. and more knowledge is never bad. as long as he doesn't actually use it, it should be fine.

(jack is more dangerous than ace and deuce, in a way — his toxicity is insidious in a way it just couldn't ever be with them.)

with excellent hearing, eyesight, and memory, he silently keeps note of every bribe he hears being taken. every lie he knows is being told. every mistake that gets swept under the rug. it's not long before he starts actively looking for it. it's not long before jack's uncovered dirt on almost every freshmen in school. it reminds him a bit of his time working at the mostro lounge. but instead of memorizing orders from customers, he's memorizing all their dirty secrets.

it's to protect himself, jack reasons. after all, it was only his input that put a stop to leona and ruggie's plans back during the spelldrive exhibition. he's just... preparing for another disastrous event, that's all. it's just precaution. insurance.

if it's not, then he'll have to accept that leona's overblot bothered him more than he thought. that he was weak enough to let it.

(and jack can't face that yet.)

and if, once in a while, ace comes to him looking for a little bit of information, then well, that's just lending a friend some advice. nothing wrong with that.

epel, ortho, and sebek don't have any direct ties to jamil, but they are certainly... impressionable, aren't they?

sebek zigvolt is a bit dense, certainly, but even he can see how well jamil takes care of his master. and with a master that's as ditzy and forgetful and all-over-the-place as kalim, that can't be easy. even if they are merely humans, and their experiences can't even begin to compare when it comes to serving a fae prince, sebek reckons that he can learn a thing or two by observing them. so that's exactly what he does.

one day, when kalim spills food on the floor in a hilariously ridiculous move, sebek notices something few others ever would. jamil gives the tiniest twitch of annoyance — the same way silver, in all his stoicism, often does when sebek gets too loud — but then he's back to being perfectly dutiful and polite and says "i'll go get a napkin."

it's... admirable, honestly. sebek doesn't put it into practice right away, but it stays in his mind long after he first sees it.

and then, after malleus's overblot, sebek's emotions feel like they're on fire. after being stuck in a world where it took just the tiniest crack to shatter a perfect illusion, he's wary of nearly everything that disrupts his day. now every single slight against him, no matter how unintentional it may be, feels like a personal attack on his very life. but sebek can't show these ugly emotions so outwardly — that would be dishonorable behavior that could damage malleus's reputation. instead, he resorts to subtle methods that can't be easily traced back to him like putting in frogs in schoolbags and setting brooms on fire or replacing shampoo bottles with tar.

but his repressed feelings of anger start to build to the point where he's now feeling unprecedented resentment towards... well, almost everybody.

when sebek has very first negative thought about malleus in history class — "reckless bastard" — he instantly hates himself for it and throws up then and there because how dare he.

he tries to shut them out, but the more he does, the more these intrusive thoughts start to bombard him with their uncharacteristic cynicism.

he looks at lilia from across the breakfast table, and his first thought is: heartless liar.

he spots leona lying in the botanical garden and he thinks: brainless cretin.

he even sees jamil, walking through the halls, and his mind screams: manipulative bitch.

but sebek shoves it all down because he's in no position to say that. it gets to the point where he's walking around as a silent, unfeeling husk, because to be anything else would be like inviting his inner demons to visit him on the outside. he pushes his emotions down as far as they'll go, and that's just going to have to be enough to get him through the day.

ortho shroud begins to follow a similar principle. his idia-inspired pessimism has led ortho to see others as less like people and more like characters. it's easier to think of every school day as a dungeon in an rpg. it's easier to convince himself that the other students are taunting him because they're programmed to be that way than face the reality that they just don't like him.

but the problem with seeing life as a video game is that you start seeing others as just ways to complete your objectives. like npcs or maps.

and when it comes to using people, jamil viper is king. or, for ortho's purposes, the ultimate survival guide.

ortho shapes himself into a model night raven college student — kind, charming, and sweet for the teachers, but just mischievous and rude enough to still fit in with the students.

he goes to housewarden meetings with idia to "gain leadership experience", taking notes and hearing out of every single little idea he can get his hands on (these are the people who have not just survived, but thrived. they must be doing something right). one time, riddle even pats his head and praises him for his proactiveness.

his classmates adore him for always been willing to help and being so calm about even the worst outcomes.

ortho makes himself as available as possible to the rest of ignihyde, brushing off homework or studying to help them with whatever they need — fixing game consoles, wiring in controllers, checking the internet connection, et cetera.

eventually, everyone believes in him almost as fiercely as scarabia believed in jamil, once upon a time.

ortho doesn't like telling all of these lies, but it's necessary to protect himself. it's like grinding to earn coins until you have enough money to buy that special armor in the shopkeeper's store.

...or maybe it's more like those cheesy dress-up flash games ortho used to play all the time — fleshing out the perfect outfit and hairstyle and makeup that'll earn you the most points.

if people feel like they need him, he'll be able to breeze through school without any more problems. he's put the whole system on easy mode! it feels a bit like cheating, almost.

it is like a game, isn't it? it's fun.

(at some point, ortho forgets how to stop.)

as for epel... well, he knows that his sudden snappish behavior towards the other pomefiore students won't go unnoticed for too long. but this is one of his only ways of venting, so he needs it to go under the radar long enough for him to... to squeeze out all of this sudden venom that's built up in him.

epel's not oblivious. he knows how sebek and ortho have changed over the weeks, and he knows why. but epel can't pull off "repressed" like sebek, and neither can he suddenly turn into the best person ever like ortho. but they do have the right idea about taking inspiration from jamil, so epel can fall back on what there is left: gaslighting.

every time kalim blacked out, jamil blamed it on him being sick. every time someone thought kalim was being awfully uncharacteristic, jamil called it a "mood swing". every time someone asked jamil about why kalim was acting so weird, jamil claimed ignorance.

at least, that's what yuu tells epel.

and it's perfect.

so now, every time someone confronts epel about his overly critical behavior, he lies and says he's doing it for their own good. you need pressure to make a diamond, after all. and besides — vil won't settle for anything less than absolutely perfect.

("i'm just trying to catch your mistakes before he does. and i think you and i can both agree that i'm a lot nicer than he is about it.")

every time vil confronts epel about all of the complaints he's been hearing from the other students about how epel's been tearing down their ideas for outfits and hairstyles with no mercy, and disregarding all of their achievements as "not good enough" to be proud over, epel dons a confused face.

("vil, between studying for tests and the crazy physical regiment you have me do, i barely have time for myself. you honestly think i have the energy to criticize other people?")

epel even starts turning people against each other so they won't focus on him. epel subtly threatens to take away the upperclassmen's position in the hierarchy, which sets up the other underclassmen as a threat, and epel grouses to the underclassmen that the upperclassmen look down on them for not living up to pomefiore standards, under the guise of regular teenage bitching.

but all of this, combined with their self-entitlement, leads to a mini-war in pomefiore. but since this is, well, pomefiore, where being perfect and poised is the standard, the others make sure never make it obvious in front of vil or rook.

epel plays everybody like a fiddle, and ensures that none of it can be traced back to him. it's a good way to get out his frustration. and hey — it seems like everybody's upped their game along the way. vil seems pretty happy that everybody's improving in their efforts so greatly, practically overnight!

epel wakes up with a feeling of accomplishment everyday. for once, it seems he did something right.

now if only rook could stop looking so somber...

then we come to yuu, whose inner darkness has been left to fester all year. if people think they can treat them like a ragdoll, it's only fair they do the same.

there's a lot yuu doesn't have, but one thing they're really lacking is a bit of respect. that's what it means to be magicless in an arcane academy. you're at the bottom of the food chain.

and look at what a bit of self-interest can do for you! yuu studies in the library until late into the night, burning the metaphorical candle at both ends, learning everything they can about magic until they're more well-versed in it than most students in the school. yuu starts making potions that aren't nearly as good as azul's, but they're cheap and work well enough. they start making study guides for others with their new-found knowledge, even if they do bristle with the fact that a damned study guide is what caught them in azul's tentacles in the first place. they start learning anything and everything, clinging to whatever scraps of knowledge they can write down.

with this, they successfully make their case for why they should join ace and deuce's business. eventually, they're just as feared as they are among the other first-years.

but that's not enough for yuu. the power of fear is nice, but the power of controlling other people would be much more cathartic.

so that's what they do. while ace is more focused on monetary gain, yuu uses their mountains of blackmail to convince others to do whatever they want.

if crowley throws another ridiculous task at them, yuu simply hoists it off to somebody else to do. if ramshackle dorm needs a few repairs, it's only a matter of contacting a few people before a whole construction crew paid off by somebody else comes knocking at their door. and they'll do it, if they don't want to get kicked out of the school or have their reputation ruined.

but somehow, even with all of this, yuu sets themself up as the nicest out of their little trio. they're willing to let payments slide from time to time. they listen to their clients' problems. they take constructive criticism and always seem to improve in their potions and study guides based on feedback. and if you do do yuu a favor, they'll give you certain favors right back.

so even when yuu is a covetous, greedy, all-consuming shark, the students still think they're so very, very nice. because compared to ace and deuce, what else is there to think?

but this can only go on for so long. and yuu knows that.

one day, they get called to the headmage's office. yuu is already going through their contact list — a list that's quadrupled ever since they joined forces with ace and deuce — to see who'd be willing to do them a teensy little favor for them, but when they step through the door, they pause.

inside the office are all the housewardens, their vices, the teachers, and everybody else yuu has grown to know over the past year.

yuu narrows their eyes as riddle steps forward.

"yuu," riddle starts sternly, "from one housewarden to another, i believe we need to talk."

(i will address everyone's reactions in a reblog, because this is honestly getting really, really long, lol. but don't worry, the reactions are coming! 🥺)

(but i should mention that there is already a good reblog of the original post by @thenumberhuntress which addresses the upperclassmen's reactions that you can find here. go read it. it's peak.)

(once again, thank you for the great ask! this was fun to make!)

#anything 4 u baby #twisted wonderland #twst #twst first years #generational trauma #ace trappola #cater diamond #deuce spade #(mentioned)

166 notes · View notes

saytrrose · 1 year ago

Text

Has anyone made a wing au yet this randomly popped into my head and I haven’t even finished my racing au im the CEO of procrastination!!

#p.s Pomni is either a pigeon or a dove #I have everyone else’s Planned out for the most part #atleast a bird assigned to them #tadc #the amazing digital circus #pomni #tadc pomni #tadc au

320 notes · View notes

statementlou · 3 months ago

Note

Tbh i am not surprised that a person who openly talked about having drinking problems since 1d days, because of how crazy 1d worked has been agressive. What surprises me is people being surprised (they never seriously saw drunk person?). But i am also confused about this whole book. Apparently Maya said that that book is not fully bout Liam but compilation about her exes and some of the worst parts are not about him. But recently she said that the book is “ofc about him” so what is true then? Or did she meant it that ofc some parts are about him or that whole book is about him?

Sorry, just confused

I also am not surprised- we've learned so much more about the real stories of things and about the guys' actual lives over the last years, and the story that has unfolded around Liam has been totally consistent throughout if you've been following it, and so the information Maya is telling us is shocking and upsetting but not difficult to believe. I got an anon yesterday saying they were worried about getting similar revelations about the other boys, like "if Liam could be doing this we just don't know, any of them could", and while in a way that's always true I guess, anyone could be doing anything in private like... that doesn't really concern me. Because none of these Liam revelations are coming out of nowhere, there have been many MANY steps along the way leading us here if you've been watching, and he has talked openly about both his mental health struggles and his addiction issues. So to answer that anon... to find out something similar about Louis would in contrast contradict everything we know about him and no I'm not worried about it. Is he probably very irritating, absolutely, but an abuser or a loose cannon, well that news would shock me. But anyway as for the book I don't find it strange that she was nervous when it came out and treading lightly and later decided, fuck it. In the absolutely on point tiktok she dropped today (YES👏GIRL👏FUCKING TELL THEM👏) she even mentions attempts to keep her from publishing the book, presumably by Liam's team, that I am riveted by and cannot WAIT to hear more details about actually- like I said I don't find it at all strange that she was nervous and downplayed it a bit then. But if she says now that it's just about Liam, well, I would say it's been clear from the beginning that the book is their story. Maya herself brought up the parallel of songs being written about stuff and I think it's the same thing; it's true (she was in an abusive relationship that involved certain kinds of events) but maybe not 100% literal (I'm sure details were changed to make the story work, it's not like a word for word timeline of their interactions or whatever).

#maya henry #blah blah blah #re the tiktok also lmaoooo are people really saying she wants money her family IS RICH like RICH RICH #but hot damn the part about enabling UH HUH !!!!!#yep yep yep #in terms of the other guys and what would shock me... well obviously we know Zayn has also had a history of agression #and we know WAY too much about him being pushy about sex lol #I would not be shocked to hear he crossed a line... but think he's probably just a bit of a fuckboy #I absolutely do not trust Niall behind closed doors but the songs we have about him seem to tell a pretty consistent story;#self absorbed but basically harmless #harry... who tf knows what he is like outside of being with Louis but I would be shocked to hear of him being aggressive yeah #I have a lot of issues with him but taking advantage of people or being pushy are not even on the radar #and as for Louis... like I said yeah it WOULD shock me. I don't just love him because he has a nice face!#it's BECAUSE of the ways we do know him and know what he's like. because of his tenderness and care #and his consistent kindness and love #and his openness about his private side #so yeah- it would shock the hell out of me it really would #but then I think that anon also was worried about eleanor spiling smth about their relationship so we are not coming from the same place #my kneejerk response was I'm sure he paid her on time what else are you worried about lol #although out of everyone if someone was going to say he lashed out at them I suppose it would be her #it was probably one of the most difficult and frought relationships in his life #and one that he did not want #so! but still no it doesn't worry me #tbh there was one thing in mayas video today that did surprise me which was the premeditation #Liam actually planning using the fans against people and sneaking around doing stuff #I guess even believing everythign I had chosen to paint a picture in my mind of someone who was still #basically unaware of the wrong they were doing and more flailing than plotting #and that shakes me a little. and makes me very unhappy to hear #liam discourse

68 notes · View notes

hijinxinprogress · 4 months ago

Text

Coffee addict Never sleeps Tim drake ❌

Solving cases in his sleep off 87 energy drinks Tim Drake ✅

The coffee addict never sleeps perpetually tired Tim Drake thing is a widely accepted headcanon however that was elementary school tim but after he stayed up for a week straight subsisting entirely on coffee to decipher the bat weekly patrol schedule and how it aligns with rogue attacks/Arkham breakouts, he crashed then when he woke up it was fucking wednesday so he missed his chance to commemorate his discovery with pictures of Robin and he decided that shit would never happen again and made himself an ‘efficient’ sleep schedule so he could run around doing fuck shit, add to his robin shrine, and stay on honor roll bc he was even more pissed to see the gotham gazette had pictures of Robin with an on site interview credited to Vicki Vale (listen bowl cut tim had a one sided beef with vicki vale that included tim judging who gets better pics of the bats but she isn’t even aware that she’s competing with a whole ass child 😭 he’s sitting at the table with a mug of orange juice and looks at the newspaper snorts and goes ‘fucking amateur I could do better’)

Regularly unsupervised tiny businessman in training Tim ‘Ten hours of uninterrupted sleep?? That’s so inefficient not to mention fucking stupid’ Drake is so pissed he missed getting shots of Robin dropkicking a rogue from 6 six stories up (for absolutely no reason dick just thinks it’s fun) that he just takes at least 3 hour naps every eight hours 😭 he refuses to spend almost half a day sleeping ‘for no reason when he could be doing something productive’

And he still does this as a bat but it’s just easier to tell if he didn’t take his nap bc he has less than zero impulse control and he’s just fucking done with everything like the gcpd is terrified bc tim’s saying shit like ‘This guys a fucking moron, I could’ve done this in half the time without killing anyone fucking loser doesn’t he know if you keep them alive you can prolong the torture?’ and ‘you’re like all hysterical and for what 🤨 ‘you blew up 83% of Bristol waah’ stfu and fucking rebuild it?? It’s only rich mfs that live there, it’s just a matter of them opening their fucking wallets’ once a new recruit made the mistake of asking if robin had adult supervision regularly and Tim responded with ‘well if you’re gonna snitch to cps like a little bitch then yeah’ and that cop did snitch so tim fucking doxxed him

Yj has just accepted that sometimes they will find tim in an air vent, on the roof, in one of their closets, or something just fucking knocked out then an alarm will go off and he’ll just get up like nothing happened but for the first couple of months they were probably concerned bc ‘I’ve never seen you sleep?? wtf are you on man’ and Tim’s confused bc ‘I slept next to you this morning wdym??’ and that’s how yj discovers tim sleeps with his eyes open

But one of the worst things about Tim’s ‘time efficient sleep schedule’ nonsense is that it fucking works he’s one of the most well rested and coherent bats even after back to back Arkham breakouts however the absolute worst thing about his sleep schedule is the likelihood of going into the cave and seeing tim staring in a daze but wide eyed yet somehow never blinking at the batcomputer with 57 tabs open on top of being unresponsive and thinking he has a fucking concussion or he’s been replaced but he’s just doing case work while muttering nonsense in his fucking sleep for some reason

#Tim drake being unhinged even in his sleep and taking sleepwalking to the next level by doing reports/solving cases in his sleep #A bat hearing incoherent mumbling but no one’s nearby: 😐 he’s in the walls 😨 he’s in the goddamn walls #No one knows how or why he’s in that particular spot in the wall bc there’s isn’t a secret entrance/crawl space there #Tim also has a wall of energy drinks Bruce regularly tries to lecture him aboot #And Tim’s like ‘your eldest son has snorted sugar MULTIPLE times’#then he gestures at Jason ‘and that one looks like if he didn’t have drug related childhood trauma he’d try to snort protein powder’#bruce: tim we have to talk about your behavior #Tim: like three of your kids have basked in the blood of their enemies 🤨 I am NOT your biggest issue rn #Dick Grayson being the main reason there’s an ‘acceptable levels of force’ slide with 600+ slides & most are examples of what not to do #Stephanie 🤝🏾 Damian: being reason Bruce is adding more slides to a PowerPoint from 2 decades ago #Tim drakes idea of straight forward is how everyone else imagines jumping through hoops and fucking struggling to avoid pissing off the fae #Like wdym simple?? This plan has 97 parts and he’s like no that’s just the first page of plan 1 if it’s sunny #Rogues: I can’t catch him off guard wtf do none of these mfs sleep??#Tim ‘never let em know your next move’ Drake who’s been sleep for the past 45 minutes: 🔵➖🔵#Yj has cuddle piles in the air vents #Everyone with enhanced senses is losing bc ‘there are children in the walls’#Coffee addict babs calls tim weak when he tells her he cut coffee bc it was fucking with him before continuing to chug hot coffee #Oracle: this is the worst Tuesday ever 😔 I need more coffee before I deal with an Arkham breakout #Nightwing: but it’s sunday??#Spoiler: Maybe it’s time we switch to decaf love also just out of curiosity when was the last time you slept??#Oracle: you want the fucking location or not?#Dick: I take it back mb #Spoiler: a thousand apologies to our gracious overlord #Oracle: that’s what I thought #Bruce: you’re benched oracle #Oracle: take that bench and shove it up your ass batman #Steph 100% calls everyone mushy pet names and has since Bruce lectured her about professionalism when she was dating tim #Imagine getting your ass kicked by a sleepingwalking middle schooler #Or worse: imagine having to explain to your insurance company that a sleepwalking child blew up your home #tim drake is a menace

80 notes · View notes

drabbles-mc · 1 day ago

Text

don't mind me getting to this ages after i said i would. merry chrysler to all of us we are catching UP on fics today!!!!! johnny davis first and foremost!!!!!!

OHmg you're just gonna kick it right off with Benny Cross Tension Hours???? absolutely devouring

And you really would never say it to his face, or anyone else’s for that matter, but you’ve even been considering the possibility that Benny might be part of the reason things with him and Betty didn’t work out. <- OHHHHOHOHO READER!!!!!!! YOU JUST MIGHT BE ONTO SOMETHING HERE!!!!!!

Stuff, and other things and what not. <- idk if I've said it out loud before but i definitely say it in my head all the time: i fucking LOOOOOOVE the way you create such unique voices for all of your reader characters. you have so so many talents as a writer and this is DEFINITELY one of them!!!! each of your readers is so unique and fit so well to their respective stories i could weep

The way even you might’a liked him, had you never seen Johnny, of course. <- reader is so real for this. i, too, might have been bewitched by benny if i hadn't rolled up to that film in love with johnny davis six ways to sunday before the opening credits even came on-screen

Sure, you can share as long as everyone’s playing nice, you’re not spoiled or nothing. <- mmmmm this feels like a Famous Last Words typa moment but I've been wrong before so i will 👀 continue to watch closely 👀

Or if he does, he’s still two hundred miles back from dealing with the meaning of it, and you know he’s not planning on running nowhere on those knees of his, so it’s whatever, right? <- the way i spit my fucking drink out over this description of it all. mj you have THEE most way with words I'm kissing you on the mouth right now

“and I never come off no more, so don’t worry about it.” <- first of all, i love the whole leadup to this, of him showing them around like he's giving them a museum tour of Vandals History. on his tour guide shit forreal in the cutest way. but this little add-on had me cackling and kicking my feet. benny's the one flying over the handlebars now etcetc

“Hm, think I have maybe three ‘just under six foot jokes’ left in me,” you promise, “but I’ll spare you today.” <- I'm obsessed with them. if benny gets in the way of reader and johnny, EYEEEE will gladly date reader instead

Yeah, Vandal stuff and you stuff. Two hands at once. No more juggling. But, obviously, there are some Benny shaped parts of that, that don’t seem to be mixing too well at all. <- i am gnawing my way through this paragraph in my mind in the most satisfying way possible. i love the turmoil of it all.

Like Benny was some sort of mystical kind of guy, like he wasn’t really all the way real, or something. <- let's be real, benny is an ethereal thing right out of johnny's dreams that he doesn't remember having

You know which ones you prefer just by looking. And you really know which ones you wouldn’t be caught dead riding on. <- oh they are SOOOO real for this actually 😂 only one type of bike is passenger-friendly and they figured that out right quick lmaooo

or maybe he’s from Europe <- MJ YOU CANT DO ME LIKE THIS 😂😂😂😂 I'm fucking weak bro i cannot. i love this so much. i love that reader went from "horrible tragic accident that damaged him forever" to "European". bikeriders was a comedy before it was a tragedy, after all

“I know,” he says back. “Johnny talks about you.” <- OHHH LETS FUCKING GOOOOOOO!!!!!! benny speaks!!! benny spills the beans!!!!!!

To your surprise, Benny laughs at that, and shit, he’s as movie star pretty as you’d expect with a smile on his face. It just gets worse with this dude. <- oh i love this. i love this adventure of reader trying to figure out benny and just having the "oh no he's hot" moment 😂😂 plot twist: johnny and reader have to fight (fists or knives style) for benny 😂😂

“You been with the club long?” / “Feels like it,” he says. <- obsessed with this Old Man Trapped In A Young Man's Body type of answer. benny. a man of multitudes

“You never figure they don’t give names to people that might not stick around?” he says. <- the way that reader and i both went from cackling to real pensive over this

his thigh’s resting against your shoulder and your neck’s half breaking just to look at him <- the way that if i was ever put in this position with him i would instantly be copping a public indecency charge for the things i would do next

🚨DANNY LYON SPOTTED IN THE NARRATIVE!!! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!🚨

but now you’re learning that this whole time they’ve had a walking talking wire tap rolling with them? Asking Q’s and getting A’s? <- crazy that you just come sweeping through here and decide that no one else will ever be able to match your prose. left none for the rest of us!!!!

“Nah. Spends a lot of time over at Kathy’s place.” <- the way I'm well and truly :smugpablo: rn despite the fact that also just....canonically....that's exactly what fucking happened 😂 but kay's dannykathy is in my head giving me brainworms so we are just going to have to run with that!

“I don’t want you talking to him,” he says, “about us. Can I ask that? Am I allowed to ask that of you?” <- i simply cannot piece apart all of the feelings that this little set of statements gave me. much to think about!!!!

“Well, usually,” he says, “when a guy’s going steady with someone—not to assume or presume, Johnny, every journey is a beautiful one—but, well, usually they bring ‘em along to these things.” <- mj the laugh i let out at this was so loud and genuine justin poked his head out from the next room over to ask me what was so funny 😂😂 i can HEAAAAR cal's voice in my head I'm fucking screaming. i love this so so much. kissing him and kissing you.

OHHHHH MJ WE ARE SO BACK, BABY!!!!!!!!!! this was so fucking phenomenal, not that i expected anything less. I'm taking the bikeriders away from jeff and giving it to you, actually. merry Christmas. 😌

white room - pt. 5

johnny davis x gn!reader, 18+, canon typical themes and language, 5.8k words, 5 of ? ao3 link | previous part a/n: hellow :3 we are back after an unexpected hiatus and lips finally gets to meet benny ! very exciting all round <3 i hope you like it and forgive me for falling off planet earth for a bit

Might sound kind of stupid, but recently, you been thinking that you’ve finally got it all worked out—about Benny, that is. Somewhere between the last time you saw him, and the Saturday of the picnic, Johnny’s weird kinda way of talking around him started making a whole load of sense. And it wasn’t just some little joke when he said he didn’t want you knowing Benny, it was pretty much sort of the truth, you think, hidden under all the hums and grumbles of him. He actually was cut up about it a little. Nervous, though someone like Johnny never aught’a be nervous about nothing. And you really would never say it to his face, or anyone else’s for that matter, but you’ve even been considering the possibility that Benny might be part of the reason things with him and Betty didn’t work out.

Fuckin’ rat up the drain pipe sort of shit, right? Never saw it coming ’til it started scratching at your head one night. You were lying there staring at the ceiling and thinking, huh, Johnny talks about Benny the way you’d be talking about Johnny, should anyone ever ask you about him when you didn’t really wanna say nothing. Eh, he’s just some guy, you’d say, yeah, we hang around with each other, you know, doing stuff. Stuff, and other things and what not.

Like, he’s got a hold on him, alright, the same one Johnny’s got on you. A real, steel grip, hold. You started off thinking well maybe it’s a jealous type of thing, you know, old guy wanting to step into the young buck’s riding boots, but it ain’t just that. Can’t be. Half of Johnny’s crew are ten years younger than him, but well, they aren’t Benny, right? And there’s something about the way he looks at him—the few times you’ve been around to catch it—something ‘bout the way Johnny watches him. And talks about him. And makes excuses for him, and the way he is. Sure, he may like him like he wants to be him, you know, foot taller, blonde, pretty as anything, but by the time Saturday rolls around and you’ve really sat on it for a while, you’re starting to think: well, what if he likes him the way every girl that ever meets Benny likes him? The way even you might’a liked him, had you never seen Johnny, of course.

Seems obvious once you’ve really put some time into the idea. Nothing about Johnny says he couldn’t be liking men the same way you do and, jeez, maybe you’re dumb for it, but even with all of that, you can’t find a single part of yourself that seems to mind. Johnny still treats you good, still makes the nights feel longer than the days—and he invited you to this picnic of theirs, which he says is only ever for wives and girlfriends and serious things like, so you figure you’re someone real important to him now, cause even if you aren’t one of those things, you’re something, right? And he did all of that with Benny around, so what difference does it make to you? Sure, you can share as long as everyone’s playing nice, you’re not spoiled or nothing.

Well, alright, maybe not share, you aren’t an angel—who is?—but right now, if Johnny likes Benny like he likes you, he sure don’t even know it yet. Or if he does, he’s still two hundred miles back from dealing with the meaning of it, and you know he’s not planning on running nowhere on those knees of his, so it’s whatever, right? Can’t fix nothing if it ain’t broke yet.

“You like dirt bikes?” he asks, while he’s dragging you across this damn field that you spent all morning riding for, grass wet from yesterday’s rain still. No place for any sort of picnic you’ve been to, but for Vandals, sure, it’s like a natural haven to them or something.

“I never liked any sort of bike ’til I met you, Johnny.”

“Yeah,” he winds, like he knew as much but didn’t really care in the first place, “few of us are gonna race ‘em. See that track there?”

You see nothing but a whole load’a mud on top of another bunch of it. “Mhmm.”

“That’s where this whole thing started.”

“And when you go spinning over the handlebars, that’s where it’ll end it up,” you say.

He laughs, but he goes on, “I’m serious,” through the smirk of it. “That’s where me and Brucey got the idea for the club in the first place. Well, that and, yeah.” He nods. “Here, when we was racing.” He waves toward the tracks in the dirt, and the bikes in the dirt, and the men that are fifty-percent fuckin’ dirt, like the whole lot is some sort of sacred ground to him, like he’s just a humble guide blessing you by bringing you here, then he says, “and I never come off no more, so don’t worry about it.”

And you like him enough to go along with it, cheesy Colby Jack that you are. “It’s something special,” you tell him, mostly meaning it. Well, all the way meaning it, but only in the way people look at scraps of metal in a museum cabinet, and think that it’s really something just cause the guys in tweed say that it is.

“Benny race with you?” you ask him.

“No,” he shakes his head a little, “not his kind of…”

“What, you gotta be short like jockeys to race or something?”

“No—“ he shoots a confused look at you, then realises that you’re joking, at his expense, and forgives you for it too, all in the same sort of moment, “—would you give it up with that?”

“Hm, think I have maybe three ‘just under six foot jokes’ left in me,” you promise, “but I’ll spare you today.”

“Yeah, you will.” And it’s as much a threat, as it is an invite, cause he’s smiling like a little something or other, and your lips find his in a real awkward, bumpy, kind of way, noses knocking as you walk, you know. Giggling and stuff. Real cutesy lovebird shit that you wouldn’t be repeating to no-one, if you wasn’t, well, you know.

“So where’d he come from then?” you ask, wrapping your free hand around the arm that you’re already attached to. Half-way close to crawling under his leathers, under the shirt and undershirt too, right under the curl of hair beneath that chain that he wears, if you could. “If it wasn’t the racing, I mean.”

“Benny?”

“Yeah, Benny.”

You should probably not be asking so much, now you know what you think you know—even if you don’t know it, and have just convinced yourself that you do—but it’s bothering you, well not bothering, but toying with you. He’s never wanted to say much about him and you figure you should take advantage of that sentimental look in his eye, for research purposes, of course.

“He just. He’s just always been around,” he says. “Came through one time needing something, yeah, and he stuck around when he found it. Like any of us would.”

“You mean Kathy?”

His face screws up, sort of like a wince almost. “No—me, the club. He needed someplace to be. Something to belong to, you know?”

“Yeah.” You know.

“All just gotta have somewhere to belong.”

“And you ain’t let go of him since,” you think, not meaning to say it aloud, but saying it anyway, cause Hell, it’s the truth, whichever way you wanna look at it.

He don’t like it of course. Tightens up right to the sides of his neck, and wrings his hand around the strap of the bag on his other shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrug. “Nothin. It’s good he’s got you guys. And Kathy.”

Johnny nods. That, he can agree to, though he don’t look happy about it. You caught him and let him right back out again, cause you’re not looking to pick fights, and that bothers him as much as if you were, apparently. Keeps him all quiet and rigid as you finish up the trek to where you oughta be.

The closer you get, the less barbaric it seems. Picnic benches, coolers, brave sorts on tartan blankets right on the rain-wet floor, but still, that sticky, dirt bike track in the middle, winding all over the place.

Not bad, all in all, suppose it is somewhere you don’t mind spending your Saturday so much.

“Sorry,” you tell him, “for always poking my nose in.”

He squeezes your hand. “S’nothin. We’re mixing it up, right?”

Yeah, Vandal stuff and you stuff. Two hands at once. No more juggling. But, obviously, there are some Benny shaped parts of that, that don’t seem to be mixing too well at all.

You know, you and him haven’t talked once, or so much as breathed the same air at the same time, right, which isn’t too crazy, but would be if it goes on much longer than it has. Cause one time, when Johnny came by, he had Cal with him. And you said hi and stuff, before he went on again—well, it was real heavy on the stuff cause Cal talks exactly as much as you do—and another time, Wahoo and Corky were with him, yeah? And sorta, somehow, you met a few of them; not all, not properly, but a few, and never having more than a bit of small talk, you know, but it was something.

But you never even got introduced to Benny, so you asked him once, and Johnny said that’s cause Benny is either with his lady, Kathy, or with the guys at the club, or on his own, doing something he shouldn’t. That’s it, supposedly. Course, you said, wait, what? You ain’t never gone nowhere alone with him, just you two? And he just shrugged and made a noise like you should quit talking about it, like you were asking something of him that he couldn’t explain. Like Benny was some sort of mystical kind of guy, like he wasn’t really all the way real, or something. Just a guy you only see when the light’s hitting the right place, or the stars are in a line, or some shit.

Well, today, you decided it’s gonna be different, and you’re gonna talk to him. Properly. You don’t got a choice, right? Cause you figure, you don’t know Johnny ’til you know Benny, and you’re getting real hungry for the full picture of him, if he’s gonna be around so much, that is.

“You mind sitting here while I…?” He points to the bikes, angling you toward the bench he’s apparently picked out for you. Front row, not even a splinter. High prize for the VIP.

“Yeah,” you throw him a good smile, an easy one, “you go ahead. I’ll watch.”

He looks back at you, all sweet, lips curling, then pulls a helmet from that bag of his—cause apparently, these ones need ‘em, but the other kind don’t—and then he’s off, going like a kid. Half jogging, half walking, and heading right over there to the rest of them.

They’re skinny bikes, these ones, kinda looking like street dogs. All wiry and bite-y, and a whole world different from the big, hulking, spoiled dogs of his usual sort. No shiny curves and nice painted metal here, just rahh, and grrr, and all that sort of shit. You know which ones you prefer just by looking. And you really know which ones you wouldn’t be caught dead riding on.

You put your hands in your pockets and wait, looking all sorts of all over the place, cause the racers are chatting still, and no-ones going yet, and that bench actually looks as wet as it is rotten, so you got nothing much else to do other than stand there, looking about you some.

This can’t be all of them, you don’t think, cause you see some faces you know, and a whole load that you don’t, but no where near enough to be their chapter and the new one combined. But then, is it really all that surprising that Vandals, wherever they’re from, aren’t used to turning up on time? It’ll be nearly evening before it’s a full turn out, no doubt, and, God, standing in a field that long? You had no idea what was coming when you agreed to this.

You look down at your boots, splattered with mud, and try to remember the last time you wore them for longer than a few hours. Which was a long while ago, or maybe never—though you do remember how bad the blisters were, whenever it was, so it must’ve happened once—and you suppose Johnny’s worth living through that again, just about, so you decide to stick with what you were doing. Accepting your fate and that, in with a bunch of people you barely know, looking round ’til one of them knows you too—and then you spot Benny.

And he must’a saw you before you saw him, cause he’s coming right on over.

He doesn’t say nothing, so you stay standing with your hands in your pockets, wondering if he was looking at you at all, or if he thinks you’re just some tagalong from Milwaukee, waiting for a bike to polish. But then he stops right next to you, and turns back facing the way he came, and puts his hands in his jacket like he’s copying you or something.

So you stand, and it’s quiet, and he looks at the guys getting onto their bikes, engines growling and barking all at once, and you think, my God, you have never survived a silence like this. You wanna wait him out, but he could be a mute for all you know. You never even thought of that. He could’a taken a hit to the head coming off his bike and lost his nerve for speaking, or maybe he’s from Europe. Maybe he don’t know a lick of English, especially not the kind you’re gonna be talking, you never even thought to ask Johnny about that—what if it’s that?

And the longer it goes without him saying nothing, the more certain you are that whatever you end up spitting out is gonna be the most insane thing a person could say to someone they never spoke to before. Like how’s your relationship with my maybe sort of boyfriend going? Anything I should know?

“Think the green’s got this one.”

“What?” Not mute. Not mute, and not European. Talking and pointing and waiting for you to say something back, even though he’s not looking at you, up there, under the flop of his dirty blonde hair, but waiting all the same. Like he’s fly fishing and you’re ignoring the lure no matter how much he flicks it. “Green who?”

“The bike,” he says, “don’t know his name.”

“Oh, yeah.”

Green fucking bike, what do you know? You can’t even tell the colour of the one Johnny’s on, you can’t even see him no more really, not when they go up there by that corner there.

“Sorry, wasn’t paying attention,” you tell him, and you know you don’t sound sorry, but him talking like he knows you has thrown you all the way off. Your big scheme to get in and get cosy now seems real dumb and real pointless. “You’re Benny, right?”

He nods. Then he pulls his arms tighter, denim pockets bunching above his waist, like he’s freezing—which he might be, cause his jacket don’t have sleeves like Johnny’s does.

“Feels like you’re the last one of them that I ought to be meeting,” you say, and cause you’re still good mannered and things, you throw your name out for him afterwards.

“I know,” he says back. “Johnny talks about you.”

“He does?”

He nods again, which is real great, cause it means he talks just as little as Johnny does, but instead of humming and making noises, he just nods and looks at you. Jeez, he really does look at you. Not too long, nothing creepy, you know, but long enough like he might’ve flicked through the file-o-fax in your head and plucked out exactly what he wanted.

“Johnny doesn’t talk about anything,” you tell him, hoping that whatever he thinks he saw, is the opposite of what you actually said. “What’s he say, ‘I’m seeing somebody’?”

To your surprise, Benny laughs at that, and shit, he’s as movie star pretty as you’d expect with a smile on his face. It just gets worse with this dude. “Yeah,” he says, “thats, er, that’s pretty much it.”

“Figures. I gotta get him in a headlock before he says shit about you—or anyone else that means something to him.”

He’s looking ahead again, but you can see he’s smiling still, even if it’s small. He really is a quiet type, two minutes in and you’re realising as much already. Even when he’s talking, or doing anything, there’s a real quiet to it, which is probably the last thing you expected to learn about him. None of these biker guys are ever like that, not even Johnny, somehow, he’s loud even when he’s saying nothing. It’s in the face, in the way he carries himself. But Benny? You could switch his colours for a church suit and believe that he was a good kid Sunday through Friday, never speaking back to no-one.

Which makes no damn sense, and can’t be the fucking case, and makes you realise all at once that he’s the sort of person you keep around just to try and solve the puzzle of him. Shy smiles and listening ears in a guy like him, riding bikes like that? Yeah, sure. The club might not be doing much as far as you know, but it sure is doing more than that, and yeah, you remember, he said it once, Johnny said Benny got all wrapped up with some cops a few times, so who the hell is this?

“You like the picnic?” he asks, flicking his head that way.

“Depends on whether there’s any actual picnicking, or if it’s just standing around watching stuff.”

“Yeah, there will be. Kathy, she uh,” he rubs his face on his shoulder, like he’s getting an itch and the itch is small talk, “she brought some stuff,” he says.

“Then I guess I like it,” you say back. “Skipped breakfast.” And real surely suffering for it, stomach aching like you’ve not even sniffed food in years.

He puffs a short breath through his nose, like he’s laughing without trying to. “Don’t think I’ve had breakfast since the fourth grade.”

You can’t help it, you answer like you’d answer anyone else, Benny or no Benny. “That’s sad. You know that’s sad, right? No breakfasts, not even as a kid?”

He shrugs, and he don’t seem offended, but he don’t seem amused so much anymore either. He certainly ain’t knocking back with a joke like Johnny would have.

“I think waffles are a fundamental necessity,” you say, just to say something again. Then you put your focus on the track, cause the wheels are back now, spinning and spitting up wet dirt, and the looped route they took might’ve gone around a couple times without you noticing, cause it seems like they’re done. Like someone’s kicked a stand and thrown his helmet and started shouting like he’s a winner.

“Green,” Benny says, like you might’ve been betting against him.

“And Johnny—?”

“Third place.”

You find him in the group, grinning like he’d won, helmet on, goggles pushed up over the curve of it. “Used to be faster, right?”

Benny shrugs. “I wouldn’t know.”

“You been with the club long?” you ask.

He chances the air, pulling his hands free and a pack of cigarettes along with them. “Feels like it,” he says.

You laugh, though it’s mostly sort of a scoff, and probably sort of rude, but, come on, what’ve you gotta do to get a real answer round here? “Jeez, between your riddles, and Johnny’s half sentences, I don’t know how you guys even found yourself to be friends.”

He cracks a light and takes a drag and you’ve pretty much given up on getting anything more out of him, when he says, “Johnny’s only like that when he’s talking to someone with more to say.”

“Yeah, yeah,” your eyes roll, “Lips, I get it. Course he’s been spreading that around already.”

“Lips?” He tweaks an eyebrow, looking at you through the smoke.

Great. So you really are just like that. “Dumb name he’s come up with,” you say, though you’d rather not, considering he didn’t know about it until you brought it up. You and your lips. “Why don’t you have one? Don’t seem fair to me. I mean, you got Cockroach, walking round with a name like that, and you get to be just Benny?”

“Things like that aren’t planned.”

“Feels like they are.”

He smirks like you’re real crazy. “And you think I’m a special case?”

“I think you’re the favourite,” you tell him. May as well come out with it.

He snorts. The cigarette smoke goes like an ink spill around his head. “You never figure they don’t give names to people that might not stick around?” he says.

Well, that gets you, because no, you never did think of that. And now that you are thinking bout it, the truth feels like a jackhammer against you and him both. Him, who hasn’t got a name and you, who has one already, willing or not. Johnny wouldn’t stumble into a thing like that by accident, would he?

“You move around a lot?” you ask, with all interest and no attitude. Cause if he’s right, and that is the reason, he must’a done something to make them think as much.

“Used to,” he says.

“Me too.”

“You miss it?”

“Fuck no,” you laugh, “no, I’m planning to spend a real long time in one place from now on.”

He nods, but he doesn’t comment any more on it, and you take his quiet to mean that he thinks the opposite—well, that and the way he’s looking off now, smoking like he never asked in the first place. All of that seems to you like someone who’s planning on moving around some more, some time, whenever it is, and, if you’re real honest, for a second it reminds you of Mom, and that way she’d be when she started itching for it again. Something new, something unattached. You near enough shiver at the thought. Last thing you want is to be drawing a line between Benny and your mom, at your first big meet-the-family picnic of all places.

“I better check on Kathy,” he says, pointing that way with the red end of his smoke.

“Yeah,” thank God, “yeah sure, nice meeting you.” You smile, waving as he goes, and he takes all that weird, creeping feeling along with him.

Half successful, half fucking weird. Benny ain’t the sort you thought he was, but you don’t like him and you don’t dislike him neither, which is probably music to Johnny’s ears, should you ever tell him that. But as he walks away you find yourself watching the back of him, and as dead-ended as the conversation was, you feel like you’re wanting to make some more sometime. Just to work him out, you know? Just to see what Johnny sees.

“You could’a gone again, if you liked.”

“What? No, nah, one’s alright by me.”

“Got it out your system?”

“Yeah, yeah, couldn’t spend all day away from you, could I? Leave you standing up there all alone.”

Couldn’t, but would’ve, if you hadn’t caught his eye over the way there and given him a look like you were real thirsty for him. Took some fighting inside, you know, to take his helmet off and leave the racing to the rest of them, but he did, sweet as he is, and came and swept you up with all the other guys that are more keen on picnicking like you are.

And he’s sitting beside you now—well, you sat down on one of them benches there, expecting him to come right up next to you, but he went and sat on the table part, still clearly with you but above you, you see, so that his thigh’s resting against your shoulder and your neck’s half breaking just to look at him. But you kind of like it. Having the head dog sitting over you like that, hand resting on the little bit of skin between your hair and the collar of your shirt. Sure, maybe it’s possessive, and maybe he really is worrying about you seeing something in one of these other guys that you’re never gonna see.

But the more he does that, running a couple fingers over your neck like that, the more you’re thinking he’s worked out that it gets your stomach doing all sorts of summersaults, and that’s why he likes sitting up there like that. Hell, he can sure enough feel how hot your skin’s getting, so it wouldn’t take a scientist to figure out what it’s doing to you, and at the end of the day, a man’s a man, you know?

“You not finishing your…what was it again?”

He’s pointing over your shoulder now, at the napkin-rolled parcel of good fucking food waiting there on your lap. You had only put it down for a second to get yourself situated. Would’ve eaten it in two bites if you didn’t have Johnny to think about. “Some kind of sandwich,” you answer. “Though it’s more like a burger in a home that don’t fit it—and yeah, I’m finishing it. It’s good. It’s alright.”

You can hear him smiling, feel it without even looking back at him to check. “Just alright?” he asks. Then his head’s down by your head, ear by your ear, eyes across the way to where Kathy and Benny are snuggling on the opposite bench. “Now don’t let Kathy hear you saying that.”

Which he says altogether too loud, exactly as he planned to do.

“Hey, no!” And you hate to admit it, but you’re talking louder like she might’ve heard, just to cover your back that don’t really need covering in the first place. “I mean it’s good. It’s real good! They ran out of regular buns is all.”

Kathy smiles, you think, and Johnny laughs at you relaxing at it—and you would’a liked a kiss or something as an apology for getting you to fret like that, but he just leans back again and runs a thumb down your cheek at the same time, like that’s near enough the same thing. Real charmer. So comfortable already, you know, so sick that he thinks that’s enough, and so perfect and fine and sweet, that it has you smiling while you un-peel the damn napkin. You seem to be taking turns these days, over who has who wrapped round their little pinky, and today it’s your go around that bent little finger of his. Broke it coming off his bike, he says, but you know a fighting injury when you see one, and he’s certainly no type of guy to be avoiding a bust up when it’s put in front of him.

“John, who’s that skinny, mousey looking dude over by Wahoo?” you ask, before taking a mean bite of your sandwich-burger. Then you chew and chew and and God, if Kathy weren’t married, you’d be asking her yourself, before licking your lips and clarifying who you mean, “The one with the camera and the tape recorder?”

“Oh.” He clears his throat, fidgeting enough to make his leathers creak. “That’s Danny. He’s a… I dunno, a sort of journalist, I guess. Yeah. Scouting out stories and things. Been riding with us for a while.”

“Yeah?” Your brows go up, ‘cause that’s the last sort of answer you thought you’d be getting. “He’s out here interviewing you guys?”

“Putting together a book, he says.”

“Hmm.” S’all you can manage to say to that, Hmm.

On that second or first date of yours, Johnny was real antsy about the idea of you going home and typing out his secrets, and you had to be seeing each other for weeks and weeks before he wanted you to really meet everybody here, but now you’re learning that this whole time they’ve had a walking talking wire tap rolling with them? Asking Q’s and getting A’s? Yeah, feels like something that makes no sense to you, coming from the big boss himself.

“He’s from New York,” Johnny adds, like he don’t like your silence. Like he thinks you’re weighing this Danny guy up, or something. “S’a good kid.”

“You speak to him much?”

“Nah. Spends a lot of time over at Kathy’s place.”

Figures. He probably wants to work Benny out the way you and everyone else does—and what better way to work him out, than to get talking with his lady like that?

“Maybe he’ll want to talk to me,” you say.

“Why’d he wanna do that?”

And you don’t like the joke in his voice, so you turn right round to face him, elbows sitting on his thighs. “Why wouldn’t he? I got stories to tell.”

He’s not looking at you, but looking over your head at Danny and Wahoo still. “You’re new to the Vandals,” he says, “you don’t know nothing about it. What’ve you got to say to him about all this?”

You agree as much as you don’t. And you’re itching at the principle of it anyway, so you were planning to keep on going, agreeing or not.

“I know you, don’t I?” you tell him. “Plus new people got as much to bring to the picture as old people, you know, and when you’re writing something up you gotta have the whole entire picture from as many people as you can get, right—and I know, I like to write too, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“So why wouldn’t he wanna talk to me? I could tell him a whole load about all sorts of things—how someone like me got all wound up with someone like you, for starters—“

“Alright.”

“And how it feels to be fitting in with a bunch of people that are as much like you as they aren’t like you, you know?”

He’s looking at you now, and in the break you take to get some air and another point lined up, he asks, “You done?” Like you’d been talking forever or something.

And you’re surprised enough that you can’t say whether you are or not.

“I don’t want you talking to him,” he says, “about us. Can I ask that? Am I allowed to ask that of you?”

“Sure you are, Johnny.” That was beside the point. You was just giving an example, you know, of why Danny might wanna point that microphone of his in your direction.

Johnny’s looking down at you in one of those sorta ways that reminds you he’s a father still—and a father of two girls at that. The kind of look a guy might give a lion after kindly asking him to put his teeth away. “Feels like maybe you got a problem with it,” he says.

“You don’t want me talking to him about you? Fine.” You shrug. “I don’t mind.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I mean, come on, I just don’t like the implication that I got nothing interesting to say to someone like that.” Which is the truth, and you aren’t anyway shy of admitting it to him.

He hums in response, and you don’t know if it’s a ‘you’re so funny’ kind of hum, or a ‘you’re getting on my nerves but we’re in public and I can’t say nothin’ kind of hum. And you don’t get to work it out neither, cause Cal shouts from the next table over like you’d been listening to his conversation, and not your own, this whole time.

“You coming, Lips?” he says.

“To what?”

“Car show, couple weeks from now.”

Right, cause that clears it up. “Why’d I do a thing like that?”

He looks down a little, like you caught him feeling nervous about the thing. Like it was prom and you were waiting for him to ask you, or something, lone earring swinging while he doubts himself. “Well, usually,” he says, “when a guy’s going steady with someone—not to assume or presume, Johnny, every journey is a beautiful one—but, well, usually they bring ‘em along to these things.”

You’re laughing. Well, trying real hard not to, cause he’s trying so hard to be… whatever that was, and you don’t mean to come off as rude so early on, y’know? “No, I mean, you bike guys go to car shows? Where’s the sense in that?”

“S’more of a wheel show,” Cal says.

“S’more of a something to get drunk and start fightin’ each other for no reason,” Kathy adds from across the way, conversation travelling like a bunch of fish going upstream, “you don’t wanna be there, trust me. They just like lookin’ tough to all those nice boys in the 4-wheelers there.”

And you believe her, having said no more that a few words to her in your life, cause if anyone knows about these things, you kinda figure Kathy does.

“You wanna go?” Johnny asks, before you can say anything about the drinking and fighting part.

You look up, and he’s frowning like he might’ve asked you something real troubling, or like he’s trying to suss you out, even though he’s already done that and more, you reckon, sussed you out down to the parts even you don’t like thinking about.

“D’you want me to go?” you ask.

“Well, yeah,” he says, easy but hesitant, “I do, yeah.”

“Then sure.” You turn back to Cal, who’s smoked up like a teenager in the brief moment you looked away from him. “S’pose I’ll be there, then.”

“S’pose we’ll be glad to have you,” he says back, and it’s probably only the weed, but he’s smiling like he means it. Like you’ve spent a whole lifetime with these guys, and not just one muddy afternoon in a fucking field in the middle of nowhere.

Funny how it works sometimes, ain’t it? Johnny spent so long trying to balance things between you and the Vandals, when all he really had to do was stop worrying so much, and let everything fall together. One big pile of imperfection is a Hell of a lot easier to deal with, and you don’t mind being a part of that. Dirty boots and Benny included.

~~~~~~~~

taglist: @drabbles-mc @hausofmamadas @garbinge @raven-black102 @lyralu91 @hoodeddreams13 @businesscalamity (pls let me know if i forgot you or you no longer want to be tagged!)

#johnny davis #the bikeriders

17 notes · View notes