#I'm behind again so here we go with a binge read
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drunk in love - remy lebeau
Request: nope Pairing: remy lebeau x reader Summary: remy is comes home drunk, so you take care of him Warnings: mentions of alcohol, language, mentions of sexual themes/making out but not actually the real thing dont worry, remy being a whiny lovesick puppy, one mention of throwing up but no actual throwing up Word count: 1.7K A/N: currently binge watching x men 97 PLEASE give me more gambit content pls marvel I'm willing to beg you on my knees. based on a screenshot I saw of a comic page. enjoy!
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you're sitting on the couch, reading your book. it's dark outside, and the clock on the wall tells you it's way too late for you to be awake. you weren't a night owl, but this book was just too good. every time you want to put it away, a chapter ends in a cliffhanger. you couldn't bring yourself to close it without finding out what happened next.
the story is so good and you're so focused on it, you nearly jump out of your skin when you hear the door knob rattle.
it was late and remy wasn't home. he went out drinking with some of the other x-men. it wasn't often they were all free and in the same city, so you knew if it did happen, remy would usually stay out til late. not coming home til long after you'd gone to bed already.
you weren't expecting him to come home this early, so you're immediately on guard. slowly, you put your book down and creep closer to the front door. you grab the closest thing you can find to use as a weapon. you don't know how much damage a tissue box could do, but at the very least you could throw it at the intruder and run away.
remy had tried to teach you some self defence tricks in case something happened and he wasn't home, but he was nearly always right there with you, so you never really learned it.
you wish you had paid him more attention now.
as you get closer to the front door, you see a shadow silhouetted against the glass. and then you hear a voice, cursing while trying to open the door.
'merde... why won't this fucking key fit... fuck off...'
you unlock the door and open it. maybe a little too quickly, because remy all but stumbles into you. you barely manage to catch him.
when he looks up at you, he gives you a dazzling smile with his eyes half closed. 'hello, mon amour.' he says.
you laugh softly and roll your eyes as you shake your head. of course he'd stumble home drunk. you already know your evening is far from over when he's like this.
'come on.' you say. 'let's get you inside.'
remy does a spectacularly bad job at getting up. and he's heavy.
'remy.' you say, holding on to him. 'work with me here.'
you manage to get him inside and lock the door again. remy is looking at you with a smile on his face.
'I hadn't expected you back yet.' you say, walking into the kitchen.
remy follows you and grabs one of your hands with both of his.
'I missed you, chéri.' he says, pulling you close and nuzzling his face in your neck.
'we live together, remy. I saw you this afternoon.' you say.
you feel his lips press against the side of your neck. you briefly close your eyes and allow yourself to revel in the feeling. then you gently push him away.
you hear remy whine and turn to see him pout at you.
'you don't love me anymore?' he says.
'of course I do, my love.' you say. 'but you're drunk. you need to drink some water and go to bed.'
you grab a clean glass and walk over to the sink. as you're filling it up with water, you can sense remy's presence behind you. seconds later, you feel his hands on your hips and his chin on your shoulder.
you mange to turn around in his arms and hand him the glass of water.
'drink up.'
'can I get a kiss afterwards?'
you roll your eyes. you don't want to admit you think it's adorable when he's this handsy and affectionate. you would only encourage him and you really meant it: you wouldn't do anything when he's drunk. he'd do the same if the roles were reversed.
'sure, love, you can get a kiss afterwards.'
you have to hold back your laughter as remy's eyes light up and he downs the glass in one go. you smirk and blow him a kiss before he can lean in.
'hey, what the fuck! no fair!' he exclaims, frowning.
'come on.' you say, holding out your hand to him. 'let's go to bed.'
he all but stumbles over his feet in his haste to grab your hand and follow you.
'yeah, let's go to bed.' you hear remy say behind you. you can tell by the tone in his voice you two have different ideas about 'going to bed'.
'to sleep, remy.' you clarify.
he sighs so loudly you can feel his breath on the back of your neck. you smile to yourself, amused at how fast his moods change when he's drunk. and about the fact he's such a love sick puppy when he's had a few. that is, more of a love sick puppy than he normally is. god, he really loves you.
when you get to your bedroom, you motion for remy to sit down on the bed. you kneel down to untie his boots.
'loving this view, mon amour.' comes remy's voice from above you. 'you know I love it when you get on your knees for me.'
'I'm just taking off your boots.'
'sure you are.'
'I am, remy.'
'are you sure?'
'yes, I am sure.'
remy sighs dramatically and lets himself fall back onto the bed. you glance up at him and see how tight his pants are. of course he'd not only be overly affectionate, but also turned on.
you tug off his boots and socks, raising to your feet.
'stand up for me, please.' you say.
remy opens his eyes and smirks at you from his position on the bed.
'now this view, I like.'
'it's literally so late remy, come on, I want to go to bed.'
he takes a hold of the hand you offer him and lets you pull him to his feet. you reach out to undo his belt.
'wow, chéri, buy me dinner first.' remy mumbles above you. you can tell by his quiet voice he's ready to go to sleep but fighting to stay awake. you wonder how much of this he'll remember tomorrow.
after undoing his belt and helping him out of his pants, you tell him to put his arms up so you can pull his shirt over his head. he does what you ask and doesn't even make a flirty comment about it. that tells you his tiredness is really kicking in.
you briefly step away to get a pair of sweatpants and a shirt out of the closet. as you hand them to him, you allow remy to rest his hand on your shoulder as he puts on the pants you've given him. you let your eyes linger on his muscular chest as he puts on the shirt. you really did get lucky with him, even if he can't keep his hands off of you when he's drunk.
you gently guide him to the bed and help him lay down. you get into the bed next to him and feel how remy pulls you closer, burying his face in your neck.
'you will kiss me tomorrow, right?' he mumbles against your skin.
you run your hands lazily through his hair. 'if you aren't hungover as fuck, which I think you will be, then yes, I'll kiss you, my love.' you say.
'oh fuck yes.' he says, making you chuckle softly.
'goodnight, remy.' you say.
'sweet dreams, mon amour.' he says.
just as you expected, remy falls asleep within seconds. you lay there for a while, absently running your fingers through his hair and thinking about how much you love him, before you eventually fall asleep as well.
when you wake up in the morning, your chest feels heavy. you open your eyes to see remy has somehow put his entire body on yours during the night.
you stay like that for a while, until you can no longer deny you really want breakfast.
with some effort, you push remy off of you so you can get up. he's still asleep as you lean in and press a kiss to his cheek.
as you make breakfast, you're softly humming to yourself while you're in the kitchen.
your morning is quiet. you decide to let remy sleep for as long as he wants, maybe it would make his hangover less extreme.
just as you're making your lunch, you hear remy coming down the stairs. he stumbles into the kitchen, grumbling something in thick accented cajun you can't understand.
then he all but leans his entire body weight on you as he's standing behind you.
'why does the world hate me?' he says.
you laugh. 'good afternoon to you too, my love.'
'morning.' he mumbles. 'your voice is so loud, chéri.'
'this is the thanks I get for taking care of your drunk ass last night?'
'sorry. was I being an asshole?'
'no, just the usual. you couldn't keep your hands off of me.'
'you're used to that.'
'I am.'
you turn around. remy wraps his arms around you and drops his forehead to your shoulder.
'is this what dying feels like?' he mumbles.
'no, my love, this is what being extremely hungover feels like.' you say. 'you want coffee?'
'dear god no, the thought of it makes me want to throw up. I'll just lay on the couch.'
'you're so dramatic.' you say, gently taking a hold of his face and holding it in front of you.
remy closes his eyes and leans into your touch. 'this is making me feel better already.'
you lean in and press a kiss to the tip of his nose. when you pull back, he opens his eyes and smiles briefly at you. then he sways a bit on his feet and sucks in a sharp breath.
'still want to kiss me like you said yesterday?'
'oh, mon amour, I think if I stand really still and you don't move, the world stops spinning.'
you laugh at him as he groans, pressing one hand to his forehead. you decide to take it easy for the rest of the day. the two of you alternate between taking naps and you reading your book out loud to him. as the day passes, you can't help but to think that maybe a hungover remy isn't so bad. you secretly love how he refuses to leave your side when he's hungover.
A/N:If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rulesHere’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost, steal or translate my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit
#remy give me a chance pLEASE#x men#xmen#marvel#remy lebeau#gambit#remy Lebeau x reader#remy lebeau x you#remy lebeau fanfiction#remy lebeau fanfic#remy lebeau fanfics#remy lebeau fic#remy lebeau fics#remy lebeau oneshot#gambit x reader#gambit x you#gambit fanfic#gambit fanfiction#gambit fanfics#gambit fic#gambit fics#gambit oneshot#xmen fanfiction
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AUGUST REC FICS
Hello, my sweets!! Here I am, once again, for yet another month of reading and living vicariously through our one and only Reader. I haven't read much this past month, and most of these sweet authors are people I follow (and shockingly, some are my mutuals, too !!! I'm too much of a fangirl to believe it's true). Give these gorgeous, spectacular writers a ton of love. They all deserve it so much, considering they're blessing us with such amazing work for free. Like. Comment. Reblog. The equivalent of a five-star review
Like always, I will be going based on what I've read recently and not by the date the fic was posted. Reminder to please respect these writers. Some contents are 18+. MINORS should not be interacting in any way.
— ✿ — ✿ ✿ — ✿ ✿ ✿
Spencer Reid
✿ a muted shade of green by @dalamjisung ↳ the flow of this fic was so smooth my jaw dropped down on the floor as i read through (writer's first reid fic, and it was chef's kiss)
✿ hearts aligned by @raekensluver ↳ OMG this one had me melting. roommate spencer is such a dream
✿ sick love by @misserabella ↳ guilty pleasure unlocked. a wonderful reading session filled with interesting discoveries
✿ behind closed doors by @incognit0slut ↳ i loved binging this so much !!! was a giggling, kicking mess while reading this one; and it has four parts ! we're so spoiled
✿ kiss it better by @nereidprinc3ss ↳ tmi but was having an episode of mild anxiety attack, and this saved me in the middle of the night, giggling myself to sleep, so thank you for such amazing work x
✿ dead of night & nightvisions by @cxrrodedcoffin ↳ lol i read this at work and had to fight battles not to make any facial signs that i was consuming kinky content. the second part was another level, i was cackling like a witch
✿ much ado about nothing: act iii, scene v & act iv, scene i by @incognit0slut ↳ act iii, scene v left me speechless, reader didn't fold and i took that as a win. act iv, scene i played with my emotions lol
✿ just a number by @reidsdaisies ↳ i became a stand-up actress while reading this because it's overwhelmingly spicy and filled with tension i had to provide comedic relief for myself
✿ untittled req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ no because i saw my reblog post of this and i immediately snorted and then laughed some more after rereading it. pipe cleaner will never not be funny to me
✿ poison me, i'm fine by @gghostwriter ↳ no because this one needs more attention ?????????????? i loved reading this so much i was so tempted to pull my heart out and ship it to pau, show how crumpled it was after reading
✿ my best colors for your portrait & my face in every place by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ i wasn't lying when i said august is for angst and i immediately gobbled this up after seeing it. the way my chest was so tight but also smiling because the writing style is amazing got me looking like a lunatic
✿ cute, outraged genius by @lavenderspence ↳ tina got me laughing like a gremlin. it's so adorable she made me fall in love with spencer all over again
✿ another untitled req response by @mandarinmoons ↳ sorry, sweethearts, ket just couldn't be bothered with titles lmao. secret lover reader is my favorite lover, sooooo you all will enjoy this cutie patootie creation
✿ one single thread of gold by @gghostwriter ↳ you'll overdose of sweetness. it's so adorable and a great way to feel giggly about spencer reid.
✿ for the fear of falling apart | part one by @pathologicalreid ↳ i haven't read the rest of the parts but mhmmm this was DELISH. well-written creation that made me show emotions while reading at work. my coworkers asked me my my eyes were so wide and i think that says a lot at how great this is
✿ second to none by @raekensluver ↳ ooooo this one got my blood boiling in a good way
✿ untitled work by @sincerelybubbles ↳ adorable stuff make me melt especially when it's a spencer one
— ✦ — ✦ ✦ — ✦ ✦ ✦
Aaron Hotchner
✦ darling, in any life series by @hotchfiles ↳ at this point are we even surprise im including yet another series form lari here ? anywayyy, i love me some old flame trope
✦ picket fence dream by @hotchfiles ↳ this is a new part from the choiceless hope series and i gobbled it up. i was screaming when i read this
✦ tells by @ssahotchnerr ↳ first thing i read in the morning, and i sobbed from the overwhelming sweetness
✦ silver by @solardrop ↳ okay but this was so adorable ??? plus im def one of those gals who tried to throw herself on him, maybe even catapult myself
✦ sympathy for the devil by @hotchfiles ↳ nosebleed. spice level is not as high as i make it seem but the writing really got me sweating. just read it, you'll understand what i mean
✦ spending time with you by @lavenderspence ↳ no because TINA CALLED ME OUT WITHOUT CALLING ME OUT. i was slightly offended. the gasp i gasped was so loud asdkfnkg. but it is adorable, go read it pls pls
✦ doctor, love by @none-of-your-bullshit ↳ i love when reader slaps the character with some reality like a seasoned raw steak.
sorry, not sorry if this post is filled with lari. I reread her works religiously, so here are my favorites from hers truly:
✦ help me hold onto you ↳ oh, this is like crack for me, and i always come crawling back no matter how hard i try to stay sober
✦ half asleep takin' chances ↳ still waiting for future aaron somewhere out there
✦ choices ↳ gonna be honest with everyone this one makes me wanna deck aaron hotchner and then deck reader for folding so easily and also deck myself because im no better than reader
✦ quis ut deus? & daniel 12:1 ↳ my fave series from lari and i will never not reread them over and over and over and over again because i love it so much idk what's the appeal on me but i love it and i want this framed and buried with me even if it's unfinished
I haven't had a lot of time to visit the good ole "for you" feed in a while, so I apologize for missing all the amazing work every writer has put out this month. I will make it up to you, I promise! And if you'd like, you can send me works or mention me so I can read certain creations that you deem noteworthy for the next rec fic month!
love lots, ker x
#spencer reid#aaron hotchner#criminal minds#criminalminds#ssa spencer reid#cm#dr spencer reid#doctor spencer reid#spencer reid criminal minds#spencer reid angst#spencer reid blurb#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid one shot#spencer reid series#spencer reid smut#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#aaron hotchner fic#aaron hotch fanfiction#aaron hotch fic#aaron hotch x reader#aaron hotch x you#aaron hotchner smut#aaron hotchner fluff#ssa aaron hotchner#agent aaron hotchner#aaron hotchner criminal minds#aaron hotch hotchner
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Greenridge ABO Series
a/n: I'm sorry if the pace of this story is slower. Most ABO fics I've read have the person of trauma acting totally normal and comfortable after like a day or two with the new pack. I wanted to have a more realistic approach where she gradually warms up to them. :/
Series Masterlist Masterlist
Warnings: angsty, explicit language, mentions of past abuse/neglect, fear, name calling, violence
WC: 4122
Chapter 5
It was the next day when you woke up. Doctor Quinn had brought you some clothes yesterday so you decided to shower and get dressed in one of the outfits. They were a little big, but you didn’t mind. Afterwards, you made your way downstairs and Felix was quick to ask you if you wanted to watch more Harry Potter. You nodded, but Changbin insisted you eat some breakfast first.
There was another spread on the kitchen island and you filled your plate the same as yesterday’s. The food was so good and you wanted to eat more but your stomach was full. Hyunjin had joined you and Changbin for breakfast, clearing your dishes for you when you were done.
“Thank you.” you muttered.
“Anytime.” Hyunjin flashed that cute smile of his and you looked away blushing.
Felix ushered you over eagerly, the movie already queued up. You went to sit but Jisung scooted away from Felix and patted the couch between them.
“Sit here.” He smiled.
You hesitated, not wanting to be trapped between two of them.
“We don’t bite.” Felix chuckled.
“Don’t lie to her.” Changbin called from the dining table.
Your eyes grew wide and Jisung started laughing.
“You’re scaring her!” Felix glared at Changbin before reassuring you. “We won’t bite you.”
Swallowing, you cautiously sit on the couch between Felix and Jisung. Felix hits play on the movie and soon you were too into what was going on to worry about what Changbin had said.
The three of you decided on a marathon for the day. Hyunjin joined too, his sketchbook in hand. You watched as his hand moved the pencil across the paper in calculated strokes. You couldn’t see what he was drawing, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious what it could be.
“Hyunjin is our artist. Painting, drawing…he does it all. And he’s so talented. That art up there on the wall, he painted that.” Jisung pointed to the right hand wall.
You looked over at the canvas displayed, admiring the art. It was abstract with dark colors, a pop of red mixed in. You didn’t fully understand it but it was still beautiful.
Meanwhile, Felix was too distracted by his phone as the movie played. He leaned over, showing you his screen and insisting he has to buy you merch for your house so you can represent. You didn’t really understand why you would need it but he was too cute when he was excited so you didn’t object.
A couple hours passed as you binged the movies. Most of the others were all scattered doing their own thing or working. Chan surprisingly wasn’t working. Instead, he was fixing himself a snack in the kitchen. He kept an eye on you, making sure the boys didn’t get too rowdy near you. Last thing he wanted was for them to spook you.
“Y/n, you hungry?” Chan asked.
You shook your head.
“You sure? You had a small breakfast.” Chan frowned.
You nod.
“You need to eat more, y/n” Hyunjin says, mouth full of popcorn.
“Just wait until you start working out with me.” Changbin smirks.
Your eyes widen.
“Yeah, we gotta get you in shape girl. That way you can fight back and hold your own.” Changbin nods, sipping the smoothie he made. He offered you some but you just shook your head.
The idea of not being so weak was appealing. Maybe you could even get strong enough to kick Hayes or Milo’s ass.
The doorbell rang, interrupting your thoughts, and you wondered if it was the Doctor here to check up on you again. Didn’t she say in a few days?
Chan hopped off the arm of the couch and disappeared behind the stairs to answer it. You listened in, hearing him open the door.
“Hello. Can I help you guys?” he asked.
“Hopefully. We are looking for a lost member of our pack. We believe she got injured and wasn’t able to make it home last night.”
You froze.
You’d recognize that voice anywhere. It was Hayes. Crap. They found you. The blood drained from your face, heart pounding in your ears. You felt like you were gonna be sick. Feeling a hand on your arm, you flinched hard.
“It’s okay. It’s just me.” Felix pulled his hand away.
“What’s wrong?” Jisung whispered.
Changbin looked at his phone, only to abruptly stand up. He came over to you and slung you over his shoulder before you could get away. He moved quickly, getting you outside and on the back deck. You squirmed in his hold, praying he wasn’t giving you back to your old pack. You wanted to scream, but then that would alert Hayes. When you got outside, the fresh air hit you and you stopped fighting. He put you down and gestured to everyone to come outside as they sat on the couch staring in bewilderment.
Minho heard the doorbell and listened out to see who it was. When he heard the man at the door say he was looking for a lost pack member, he knew who. He immediately texted in the group chat to get you away from the front door and out of sight. Then he made his way down the stairs, ready for a fight if it came to that.
Changbin had been the only one who saw the message and moved quickly. He could see you were frozen in fear and had to act fast. When everyone came outside, Changbin explained, the pack growing tense. You had squatted down behind the group, shaking and hugging your knees to your chest.
Minho was next to Chan, listening in on the conversation. Both Hayes and Milo were here, looking angrily at them.
“There’s nowhere else she could have disappeared to.” Hayes argued.
“I don’t know what to tell you man. She’s not here.” Chan insisted.
Hayes, growing tired of dealing with the “drama” you cause, forces himself into the house. Milo pushes against Minho, instantly regretting it as he gets knocked back down to the ground. Minho then saw at least ten others approaching from the driveway. He shut the door and locked it before coming over to pin the intruder down so Chan could deal with him.
The door swung open, nearly falling off the hinges as the wood splintered. One of them had kicked it open. Minho looked up to see Alpha Lewis.
“Find the girl.” he seethed.
His goons spread around the house, Minho fighting a few of them.
“Hayes, this one is mine. Find that little bitch and bring her to me.” Lewis said.
You watched from the window, Changbin standing in front of you. The others moved into the house to fight off the intruders and keep them from you. It wasn’t until Hayes saw you, that you knew you were done for. He would kill anyone that gets in his way.
You were shaking as Changbin took a defensive stance, fists bawled and ready to throw a punch as soon as Hayes gets close enough.
“Finally have someone standing up for you? I’m impressed.” Hayes stepped outside onto the deck.
You don’t say anything.
“You’re not taking her so fuck off.” Changbin growled.
“That bitch belongs to us. Not you.” Hayes gritted through his teeth.
Changbin lunged at him, catching his jaw with a right hook. Hayes stumbled, wiping his lip and seeing blood on his finger. He chuckled.
“That’s the only one you’ll get.” Hayes taunted.
They began fighting and you scooted back, afraid of all the growling and punching. This was all your fault. You brought them here. And now these innocent people were getting hurt. Maybe you should go back…
You look inside and see Lewis with his foot on Chan’s chest as he smirked down at him. The world was slowing and yet it felt as if everything was happening too fast. It made you feel sick. You had to do something. But what?
Lewis lifted his leg and, with force, slammed it down-
You jolted awake with a scream. Sweat on your forehead, you looked around to see yourself in a bedroom - your bedroom. Light trickled in from the bathroom where you left it on, illuminating your surroundings. You place your hand on your chest as you try to catch your breath. What time is it? You look at the nightstand and the clock’s LED lights tell you it’s 3:25 am. Your door opens slowly and you look up.
“Hey…you okay?” It was Seungmin. “I heard you scream.”
You nodded.
Seungmin slipped in, closing the door behind him. He made his way over to the side of your bed. “Bad dream?”
You nod, running your fingers over the comforter absentmindedly.
“You ever going to talk to us?” he asked with a little chuckle.
“Sorry.” you mumbled.
“You don’t have to apologize. I just like hearing your cute voice. I wanna hear it more.” He sat down on the edge of your bed next to you.
You look up, blushing, and see Seungmin smile. You smirk, looking down at your hands in your lap.
“I get a smile too?” Seungmin feigns shock. “I am so lucky.”
You shake your head at him, rolling your eyes.
“Want me to stay with you till you fall asleep?”
You nod but then quickly add, “Yes, please.”
Seungmin smiles as you remember to speak for him, moving over to the chair in the corner of your room. “Sweet dreams, y/n.”
You snuggle back into the bed and try to not think about the nightmare you just had. You prayed they would never find you here.
Seungmin watched you, listening to your breathing and still elevated heartbeat. He could only imagine how bad your nightmare was, wanting to comfort you desperately. But he knew the time would eventually come when he could hold you in his arms and sleep.
For now he just listened. It took a while but your heart rate finally slowed, your breathing steady as you slept. He was so sleepy, he ended up falling asleep to the sound of your heartbeat.
Morning came and Seungmin woke up from the light shining in through your windows. His room had a darker theme, and his curtains were always closed as night so the sun wouldn’t wake him too early. This was too bright for him. He leaned forward and found you sleeping soundly. He couldn’t help but notice the way your lips were slightly parted. They looked so kissable that it took all his resolve to not move closer to you.
Instead, he stood quietly and snuck out of your room and back across the hall to his own. His room was dark like normal and he happily climbed back in his bed, body stiff from the chair he had slept in. Within minutes he was back asleep.
He only managed to sleep another hour before Minho woke him up and called him downstairs. Groaning, he got up and headed downstairs. Everyone else made their way downstairs as well, some already awake and some still sleeping. Hyunjin nearly ran into the wall twice since he was still half sleep.
They all gathered out on the back deck, the morning air awakening their senses. Chan had made coffee for those who wanted it, and tea for the non coffee drinkers.
“Did anyone else hear a scream last night? Or did I dream that?” Jisung asked, rubbing his eyes.
“It was y/n. She had a nightmare.” Seungmin informed as he sat down.
“What?!” Hyunjin and Changbin were awake now.
“She’s fine. I fell asleep in her room waiting for her to fall back asleep though.” Seungmin yawned.
“Morning everybody,” Chan joined everyone outside. “We need to have a discussion about y/n.”
“Is this about her nightmare?” Changbin asked.
“No.” Chan shook his head. “She’s okay though, Seungmin?”
“Yes. Sleeping peacefully.” Seungmin smiled.
Chan had heard her scream last night, Minho too, but when they went to check on her, they heard Seungmin in there. Chan eavesdropped outside for a bit before heading back to his own room. He worried for her too but eventually fell asleep.
“We are keeping her, right?” Jisung asked.
“She’s not a pet…” Changbin glared.
“I didn’t mean it like that….” Jisung rolled his eyes.
“She is staying with us, yes.” Chan stated. “She is a part of this pack now. We do not abandon our own. And I want to thank each of you for being on your best behavior. You guys have been very welcoming and patient with her. I can see she is slowly getting used to us and opening up.”
“I can’t wait for her to trust us enough for hugs.” Felix sipped his tea.
“She’ll get there.” Hyunjin comforted, rubbing Felix’s lower back.
“Now… Raise your hand if you feel the soulmate pull to her.” Chan looked around.
Felix shot his hand up and slowly everyone else’s hands were raised, Minho slowly raising his last.
“Wait, where’s Innie?” Chan looked around, taking a headcount.
“Must still be asleep.” Minho answered.
“Aish…I’ll get onto him later.” Chan grumbled. “Anyways, I’ve been watching everyone and I had my suspicions. Looks like she’s a rare case of an omega with multiple soulmates. I know we are all mates and we have found a way to balance and care for everyone’s needs so we will do the same with y/n. I don’t want any fighting over her, understand?”
“Yes.” They all agree in unison.
“Great. And if you’re out on the property, keep your ears open. I don’t want any surprises. If you’re outside with y/n, remember to be aware of your surroundings. Last thing we need is for her to be spotted or snatched away. Stay far from the Nyko territory.”
“Does that mean we can take her swimming in the lake?” Felix asked.
“If she wants to, I don’t see why not, Lixie.” Chan shrugged. “But don’t go alone. If you’re outside the house, one or two members with you.”
Felix clapped his hands excitedly, making Hyunjin smile and kiss his temple.
“You wanna come with us?” Felix asked Hyunjin.
“I’ll go if Hyunjin is going.” Changbin was quick to interject.
“Yah! Because of you I couldn’t walk back the last time.” Hyunjin pointed an accusatory finger.
“You found the cave. AND THEN was telling me harder...faster. So who’s fault is it really?” Changbin mocked Hyunjin’s pleas from their previous time together.
“I don’t sound like that.” Hyunjin pouted.
“You do.” Felix, Minho, and Changbin all agreed in unison.
Hyunjin sat back in his chair, arms crossed.
“Let’s get breakfast started.” Chan said before heading towards his office.
Minho and Felix got up to start working on breakfast. Jisung set the table, and got out the juice. Changbin decided to go for a quick run. Hyunjin went back upstairs, wanting to sleep more and Seungmin went to take a shower.
Meanwhile, you had woken up and stretched. You grabbed the bag of clothes from the floor and dumped them on the bed. Doctor Quinn had in fact given you clothes yesterday so you picked out an outfit and went into the bathroom to shower.
The water was warm and soothed your muscles and joints. You took your time, lathering the soap and standing under the waterfall. Eventually you got out, looking at your reflection in the mirror. You wrapped the towel around you and took your braids down from where you pinned them up. You then reached for the moisturizer Felix said to use after your shower and applied it to your face. It wouldn’t cover the bags or small scars but you did it anyway.
Afterwards, you slipped on the clothes, tying the drawstrings as tight as you could on the pants to help them fit. The pants were a bit big but you didn’t mind. After getting dressed, you removed your hair from the braids, letting it fall in waves down your back. You adjusted the front and sides before being satisfied with your reflection. You had never seen your hair look this good - or good at all.
You take a breath, bracing yourself, and open your door. The aroma of breakfast foods hits your nose and you smile. It smelled so good it made your mouth water and your stomach grumble. You quickly hope that today isn’t like your dream as you walk down the hallway.
You notice the young alpha also heading towards the stairs. Jeongin was walking slowly, wiping sleep from his eyes when he spotted you. His eyes went wide and you caught his scent. You froze dead in your tracks, knowing that scent all too well. It wasn’t exactly the same, having Jeongin’s own scent to it, but the base of it was the same for any male hybrid.
He took a few slow steps forward, closer to the stairs than you were. You begin to back up, studying his movements. You swear his eyes flash red and then he charges at you. You yelp, running from him. The chase only entices him more and he loses himself.
You reach your room, but before you can enter, he lunges at you. You both tumble to the ground, Jeongin pinning you down. Wow he’s fast. Terror filled every cell in your body as every previous time with the Nykos flashes in your mind. You cry out and sob, squirming underneath him.
He growls, silencing you as he pins your arms above your head. Jeongin leans forward, sniffing at your neck above your scent gland. He groans, enticed by your smell. He leans down to kiss you-
“Jeongin, NO.” a deep voice roared in the hall.
Jeongin’s red eyes faded back to his usual dark brown but he didn’t release you. Chan and Minho were quick to grab Jeongin and pull him off of you. He fought their hold, growling. Chan growled back - an alpha growl - and pinned him to the wall. Jeongin blinked rapidly, instantly stopping all protests.
“Wha-” he panted out confused.
Felix had run up the stairs with the others when they heard your scream. Seungmin quickly threw on clothes, stepping in the hallways as they pulled Jeongin off you. Now, Hyunjin and Jisung hurry over to your body, as you’re curled up in fetal position. You shook, your eyes squeezed shut, as you tried to push the awful memories away. They reached out to help you up and you flinched, yelping.
“Seungmin.” Minho said.
He hurried over, switching places with Minho and keeping hold of Jeongin. Jeongin wasn’t fighting them, instead panting as he watched them tend to you. Minho squatted next to you, releasing calming pheromones. The shaking subsided but you didn’t open your eyes.
“We’re gonna lift you now.” Minho said in a calm voice.
Minho nodded at Hyunjin and he reached out to pick you up. He too was releasing calming pheromones and you found yourself relaxing into his touch. They brought you into your room, Hyunjin placing you on your bed while Jisung stepped inside and closed the door.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” Jeongin sobbed, sliding down the wall as they let go of him.
“It’s okay, Innie. We know…it’s your rut instincts.” Chan comforted with a clenched jaw.
Felix was fidgeting behind Chan, biting his lip as he breathed heavily. Jeongin’s heightened smell from his rut was getting to him. He smelled so good, Felix couldn’t help but get hard despite the situation. Seungmin too was hard, but he focused with all his resolve.
“I don’t understand. It’s too early. And now she’s going to hate me.” Jeongin hid his face in his hands.
“Innie…it’s okay. Sometimes omegas can induce an earlier rut. It was bound to happen to one of us. And you’re still learning control. She will understand.” Chan moves Jeongin's hands from his face and wipes his tears.
“He’s going to have to go to the rut house while she’s here.” Minho notes.
Chan nods.
“I’ll go.” Jeongin says, standing up with drooping shoulders.
“Who do you want to go with you?” Minho asked.
“No one.” Jeongin says.
“You’re going to need someone to help.” Seungmin reminds.
“I don’t deserve it.” Jeongin says, walking down the stairs and out the basement doors.
Chan sighs, looking to the others.
“He’ll be okay. I’ll check on him in a bit.” Minho says.
“Y/n….?” Hyunjin whispered.
You didn’t say anything.
“Can we check you? Make sure you’re not hurt?” Jisung asks.
You don’t move.
“Innie is still learning to control himself as a new alpha. His rut makes this harder. He didn’t mean to….scare you.” Hyunjin explains, choosing his words carefully.
“I know.” you whisper.
“Are you hurt?” Jisung asks.
“No.”
“Okay.” Jisung pouts and looks at Hyunjin, unsure what to do.
Knock, knock.
You jump, but Hyunjin instinctively rubs your back. You let him as the door opens, Chan coming in.
“Y/n? Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” Chan rushes to your side, Hyunjin moving out of the way.
“No.” you sniffle.
“Let me see.” Chan says, lifting your arms.
“I’m fine.” you say, pulling your arms back towards your body.
“Okay. Well he won’t be in the house for a few days. So you don’t have to worry about running into him again.”
“I got him in trouble?” you question.
“No. He’s not in trouble. We have a little house on the property that we sometimes use for our ruts, if we need to be alone, or just want some privacy. He’s gonna be there until his rut is done.”
“Oh…” you sit up.
“You sure you’re okay?” Jisung asks, scanning your body for any injuries.
“Yes. I’m fine.” you say, not used to being doted on so much.
“Hungry?” Hyunjin asks.
“No.” You say.
“Liar.” Jisung smirks. “Let’s go get breakfast.”
Reluctantly, you follow Jisung downstairs and fix yourself a plate. As you sit at the table you nibble on the food, not really wanting to eat.
Jisung didn't push you to eat more, knowing your morning was rough.
Hyunjin informed Chan that he would go be with Jeongin for a while, helping him and making sure he's not punishing himself. Chan nodded, thanking him for his help and telling him to take some food with him.
Chan had wanted to have a conversation with you and all the members, informing you about the soulmate pull he knew you were feeling too. But with Jeongin and Hyunjin out for a bit, he figured he would wait. If it came up naturally, he would address it. But for now, they would just focus on making sure you’re comfortable.
Felix had come downstairs after you finished breakfast, cheeks flushed a light pink and a smile on his face. He fixed himself a plate as Seungmin came and stole a strip of bacon off it. Felix groaned, grabbing another one before sitting down.
Changbin returned from his run and looked around.
“Everything okay?” he asked, taking in the tense atmosphere.
Jisung pulled him aside and explained what happened. Changbin was appalled and came back to the kitchen to check on you. But you weren’t there. They panicked, searching the house for you and eventually found you in your room.
“You okay? I heard what happened.” Changbin came into the room.
“I’m fine.” you mumble, wiping a few tears so he wouldn’t see.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t here.”
You looked over at him confused. “Why are you sorry?”
“I promised myself to always protect you. I’ll be like your own personal bodyguard. No one will hurt you ever again.” Changbin stated.
You smiled. “Thank you.”
“I’m going to shower. Then we are going to hang out, okay?”
“Okay.”
Changbin nodded, heading off to his room down the hall.
You were quiet the rest of the day despite having left your room to hang out with Changbin. He gave you a tour of his room and then you joined a few of the boys in the living room. You all sat watching tv for a bit, but you were hardly paying attention.
Felix wanted to make some brownies and asked if you wanted to help. You had never been allowed to cook so you eagerly went into the kitchen with him. He taught you how to bake, Changbin and Jisung sitting at the island and chatting with you two. You didn’t say much, but enjoyed feeling like part of the conversation.
Chan came in from his office, seeing you in the kitchen and it warmed his heart. He had hoped this incident wouldn’t set back your progress of trusting them, but you continue to surprise him.
TAGLIST:
@estella-novella @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @butterflydemons @readr1221 @gaby105-skz @notevenheretbh1 @bah2004 @sinfulfic @bowsnbang @just-a-blackthorn-cookie @dreamerwasfound
Shout out to my beta for inspiring, motivating, and pushing me! @its-the-solar-system
#stray kids abo#stray kids x reader#stray kids x y/n#stray kids#bang chan x reader#seo changbin x reader#han jisung x reader#lee felix x reader#lee minho x reader#lee know x reader#kim seungmin x reader#yang jeongin x reader#hwang hyunjin x reader#ongoing#skz ot8#stray kids ot8
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I'm a new follower after binging to your writings akejwjeej anyway, I've been craving for some angst lately and here's what I got so far,
reader who started acting cold towards the MLs because they've been hanging out way too much with MC (not the reader) so they started not replying to them, talking or just not going out to them at all until the reader just ghosted them.
though I'm not sure if u write angst since it's not written or indicated.. it's up to you if u want to write this. if not, feel free to ignore XD
Envy
AN: Hi nonnie! Since I didn’t specify that i prefer to write hunter/ambiguous!Reader (basically not rivaling with the MC) before you sent in the request, I will write this for you! :)
Future asks should either MC!Reader or Ambigous!Reader please! Ty 🩶
It wasn’t fair. He wasn’t paying attention to you enough lately. And he was supposed to be your boyfriend! He promised that they were just friends, that it was nothing more than work, but now you didn’t know…
So when he texted you last, you turned off your phone, not wanting to deal with his bullshit.
Knows there’s something wrong immediately. You always answer his texts. Whether it be an emoji or a full-blown paragraph, you’ve never left Zayne on read. Ever.
So, he goes to the flower shop and buys you a bouquet. It’s not enough, but it’s a start. He texts you that he’s picking up your favorite dinner on the way back and asks what kind of macarons you want. You don’t answer, so he goes the safe option and gets your favorite. You almost don’t answer the door when he drops by, but you can’t hide from this forever. So with a heavy sigh, you swing the door open to see Zayne with a bouquet of flowers with dinner and dessert.
Zayne: Can we talk…?
You let him in, of course you do, and you eat dinner in silence. But Zayne is adamant about having this discussion.
Zayne: She’s my patient…and my friend.
You: I understand that, but that doesn’t mean you need to hang out with her all the time!
In the end you both discussed your feelings and set clear boundaries with him. It’s a step in the right direction. Later, he cuddles you on the couch, stroking your hair while whispering affirmations in your ear.
Zayne: I’m sorry, dear. You’re the only one for me… Never doubt that.
This was the third date he blew off. For her. Yes, she was just his body guard, and yes Rafayel has always been naturally flirty, but that didn’t mean his fondness for her didn’t affect you. You were his significant other! All his flirty affections should be yours and yours alone. You couldn’t stand the fact you had to share his attention. Apparently, Rafayel couldn’t either.
Rafayel: It’s not that big of a deal! She was just helping me gather metapearls to make into pigment— Yes, I could have called you. But she’s my bodyguard! She’s more cut out for it!
Sweet whispers and reassurances turned to broken promises. What was supposed to be one hour away turned to five and you were sitting alone in the fancy restaurant yet again. You didn’t even wait for him at home like you usually do. After turning off your phone, you opted to crash at a friends house.
This turned into a big fight.
Rafayel: What’s with you— You were never this clingy.
Clingy? Not wanting to share your boyfriend with a potential lover is clingy? When you brought up the b word (breakup), he got his act together real quick.
Rafayel: Okay, okay. She’ll be my bodyguard at PR events only… And I’ll only contact her for business purposes.
Though you’d rather her not be his bodyguard at all, you understand they have a deal regarding hunter work so it’s a compromise. While you’re at your desk doing some work, he wraps his arms around you from behind, nuzzling your into your neck.
Rafayel: ‘M really sorry… I was a real jerk… I love you…
The worst part about having this problem with Xavier is that he has no idea what’s going on. She was his coworker, his work partner, and his neighbor. There wasn’t much he could do to stop seeing her.
Xavier: I can’t just move out of my home because of you have a problem with her…
You: Yeah, but she doesn’t need to come over all the time to “teach you how to cook”. I could do that!
It gets worse when they go on missions together. He had promised to call you every night. But he didn’t. And you were fed up.
So, you blocked him. Only for the duration of his mission. But it’s long enough to send a message. The next day, he comes to your house with an arm full of plushies and a nervous look in his eyes.
Xavier: I read that in order to maintain a strong relationship, you have to communicate and set boundaries… Can we discuss this? Together?
You guys both end up having a heartfelt discussion at the table. You heard his side, he heard yours, and you came to a compromise about the situation. He takes you out on a sweet date as an apology. It isn’t the end all be all of apologies, but it’s a start. He holds your hand tightly, leaning over to kiss your forehead.
Xavier: I promise we’re in this together for the long ride, just you and me…
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I was one of the Chilean winners to meet Paul McCartney and go to his soundcheck. My experience.
Well fellas, it's been a long time since i posted here and what can i say, i just wanted to give u the good news! As u read it, i had the chance (next to other people, 9 great fellow fans) to hug paul and share few minutes with him (As i write this all what i experienced feels unreal) I'm the one wearing the sgt pepper's suit btw!
I don't remember too much about the whole day, but the soundcheck was AMAZING, he played temporary secretary, mrs Vanderbilt, Let em in and Coming up!!it was CRAZY. Bf the soundcheck was over we were taken to another place in the stadium where we waited few minutes, and we talked with Stuart Bell (((((i joked a bit with him about he having the dream job and the possibility of k1ll1ng someone to be part of Paul's team and he told me 'HOW!? IT WAS A SECRET I TOLD U! ))))😂 Stuart is Paul's tour manager and we met his photographer and cameraman.
To be brief, let's jump right into meeting Paul, where do i start??? HE'S THE MOST ADORABLE MAN EVER, as soon as i saw him my eyes turned into waterfalls, my heart skipped a beat and all the memories of me binge watching videos and interviews of The Beatles crashed in my head. He greeted all the other winners and i didn't notice i was almost the last one, i was so shocked, too paralyzed to even say something, other winners told me Paul said something like 'Oh darling come on' and i just went slowly as i could to be near him and get a hug. I swear won't forget that moment. I HUGGED A BEATLE LIKE WHAAAAAATTT THE ACTUALLL HECKKK!!!! He share few words with everyone while the cameraman recorded everything. I feel that we were with him like 5 minutes but they -believe when i tell you- FELT LIKE 2 SECONDS. Then we took an official photo with Paul (which i'm kinda sad to receive bc i know my sgt peppers suit was totally hide behind two other girls who won, but hey, i'm in the same pic with Paul and that's enough!!) and lastly i had the chance to show him a bit of my work, i ordered some badges and stickers with my Beatle illustrations that i put on my suit and explained him stuff that i can't remember right now :'( But this is what finally made me lost my mind (internally bc for everyone is was just crying) LISTEN LISTEN, HE SAID MY WORK WAS """IMPRESSIVE""" AND HE TOUCHED THE STICKER WITH THE JOHN LENNON PORTRAIT I HAD ON THE SUIT, HE- TOUCHED- ONE- OF- MY- PORTRAITS AND HE RECOGNIZED THAT IT WAS JOHN READING SPANIARD IN THE WORKS. FFS, as i write this i start to sob. Then in a rush we sang the spanish version of 'Besame Mucho" a.k.a Cha Cha Boom song 😂 and then we all said goodbye as we could, waving, screaming, and in my case, crying hard af.
I really really hope to have a chance too see him in concert again, i know that the chance to be THAT near to him again, a literally walking legend, is almost impossible (as impossible as it feel the first time) i know i'm a lucky girl, and my life changed just having the chance to be in the same room with him. I won't be over this, there's now way this feels less exciting over the years. I was one of the few people that had the opportunity to be to his side -even if it was for a minute- and nothing is going to change that.
I have big dreams ahead, and i hope i'm able to accomplish every one of them. After hugging Paul everything feels possible.
If you like my art, know that i feel more inspired than ever before and i hope u can follow me on this journey🩷
Love, Dei.🩷
Ps, all the winners and i are expecting the video of everything, so as soon i as get it i'll try to share all the bits where i'm interacting with Paul (i hope with my soul that our hug is recorded and that his team doesn't cut that while editing the clips)
#got back tour#paul mccartney#mpl studios#the beatles#beatlemania#classic rock#art#john lennon#john and paul#paul and george#pattie boyd#ringo starr#sgt peppers lonely hearts club band
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Not Strong Enough (Chap 3)
Jenna Ortega x Fem!Reader
(picture not mine)
Summary: Jenna was visiting her mom in the hospital to drop off the food that will be eaten for the hospital party, but she met a resident surgeon and she thought "God forbid I ran into an accident, but I want her to open me and stitch me up." While the surgeon tries her best to keep her fan girling low-key.
Warning: curse words
A/N: Hey, 3rd chapter in a row. Thank you again for reading and enjoy!
Masterlist
Chap 1 | Chap 2
______________________________________________________________
Chap 3
"Had a fun time in the party, I'm so glad we got to have this celebration for our achievements in our department" Ava said as she dropped her bags beside their front door. Behind her is her wife Beatrice, followed by Y/N and their other friend Camila, who is also a doctor in the Pediatric Department.
"Aww, that really sucks, why do I always get to be left out by you guys." Camila said with a pout on her lips while the other three people inside the house just laughed at her.
"Well sweety, you chose to do your residency in Pedia Department and you love kids, that is why." Beatrice answered her while she went to Ava in their kitchen to help with reheating the premade dinner that they cooked earlier today.
As Y/N and Camila got settled in the living room, they started to catch up with each others life and what stresses them in their department. A little banter over here and there, laughs were echoing throughout the household until Ava called them to go to the dining table to eat.
"Cheers to us noobs to conquering and still being here thriving to do our best, cheers." Y/N tells as she raised their glass and drink their wine.
"I told you having a monthly dinner between the four of us is a great idea, us being free and to catch up with one another." Camila said with a cheeky grin while the other three are just laughing.
"We are all well informed with each others life since we are just literally in the same department unlike you." Beatrice chimed in which makes them laugh, because they love to tease Camila for being the only one that chose pediatrics, but they truly support her since that is where her passion goes but they also love teasing her.
"Not fair guys, I'm getting bullied here, I'm all by myself." Camila teasingly moping and laughing.
"But truly, I really am thankful for the three of you for adopting me in your friend group. I always feel that my home is far but when I'm with you all, home just gets a little bit closer." Y/N tells with a grateful smile on her face.
"Okay, stop with the cheesiness, Halloween is just around the corner so Bea and I planned of a Halloween party, but you know, just for the four of us since we can't really handle big crowds and get overstimulated." Ava proposed and laughs.
"I'm definitely in." Y/N approved and everyone nodded while they enjoy their dinner.
While Y/N is having fun in Ava and Bea's household, Jenna on the other side is facing her mom with the questions that she expected to be asked.
"Well?" Natalie asked Jenna with her left hand on her hip.
"She is new and she looks fun, what is wrong with having a new friend right?" Jenna answered.
Natalie looked at her daughter with questioning eyes, not fully believing what her daughter answered, but, she won't push through, she doesn't want to rush and pressure her daughter.
"Okay, I believe in you. But don't pull that stunt on me again mija, I am a nurse not an actress." Natalie answered with a smile and kissed her daughter's forehead as she leaves Jenna's room.
---
Sun goes up so then another day arrived. The beams of light never shined so bright for Y/N because today is her day-off, which means she can just lay-down and just spend the rest of her day snuggling her pillow and ordering a whole pizza for dinner just to binge watch Brooklyn 99 for the nth time.
BUT. There is a big but that comes to her mind. If they will have a costume party, that means that she needs to buy a costume for herself, because if she did not, Ava will totally gonna punch her face, Camila will kick her in the stomach, and Beatrice will gonna Aikido her. So yes, what she planned was never gonna happen.
Y/N rolled over on her bed until her feet falls and touches the ground, and tries to push her body to stand up. She is trying so hard, looking like a baby that wants to stand up and just walk, and after fighting her own for a second, she got the chance to stand up and scream.
Screaming, that was therapeutic for Y/N, you just scream and all the tension inside your body will somehow get out. For her it is good, but for her neighbors, probably no.
Finding some clothes and going outside to her car, she received a notification.
Fr Jenna:
Thank you again for yesterday.
To Jenna:
No worries. You can text me or call me if you need something :D.
Fr Jenna:
Wow, that is something that I will hold on to ;)
And with that, Y/N smashed her head in her steering wheel, asking WHY OH WHY, Jenna just sent her a wink. A FUCKING WINK. It's just a wink but her heart can't seem to follow the right rhythm for it to function naturally.
Breathing in, Breathing out. A minute of breathing exercise helped Y/N to pull herself together and starts her car to go to the mall.
Traffic lights turned from green to red from red to green, driving around corners and street while listening to NIKI, Y/N arrived at the mall and had one thing in mind; to buy a dress just like Mavis from Hotel Transylvania.
She loved that movie, that is probably one of her comfort movie. So, on the drive to the mall, she sets her mind on finding a black dress, a red and black striped thigh and some pair of fangs.
Going in and out of different stores, she got to buy the dress and the fangs, but those damn red and black striped thighs are surely nowhere to be found. Going down the escalator, she saw a crowd of people that is following a person, with their cellphones out, flashes from their phone camera on, a paper to sign on.
Y/N thinks that it must be a pain in the ass to be in the middle of a crowd and getting huddled at. Trying to find the person that causes a crowd, she stops on the foot of the escalator and tried to tip on her toes and found her target.
While seeing the person that was in the middle she thought "Wow, she is so small in the middle, with her big ass headphones? Damn she might not here a thing, and that fit, she knows how to dress." Slowly, her eyes trail from the girl's outfit and focused on her face that was hidden with those bangs.
And Y/N realised, like she got hit by a truck, struck by lighting, and thrown in an ice bath. HOLY SHIT IT IS JENNA YOU DUMBASS. Y/N hurriedly went and followed the crowd yelling Jenna's name.
"JENNA..... JEEENNNAAAA." Y/N realised that that was a dumb move, everyone calling Jenna. So the next thing that Y/N did is to thread along in the crowd until she is close enough to touch Jenna.
But Jenna is inside her head thinking, she just wants to chill and relax by the roof top in the mall, reading a book that she just bought so she could have a relaxing day. But then a person noticed her and the news that Jenna Ortega was in the building spread like a wildfire until she builds a crowd that is now huddling her.
All Jenna wanted was some peace. She just wants to do the things that she did in the past, but it looks like she also can't have that now. Being so much in her head, she never realised that Y/N was totally yelling at her and calling her, not until she felt someone tugged at her elbow, and she really tried to be polite, but tugging her elbow was her last straw. So she looked up with her brow meeting at the end and ready to throw some bad looks to the person that just tugged her.
That's when she realised that it was you. The angry face and her eyes that holds a look that can kill slowly disappear. Her eyes are now looking at you with such tender and softness, her lips are holding a sad smile, and her brows never looked so calm. So what she did was to stop on her tracks to focus on you more.
"You wanna get out?" Y/N asked, while Jenna just nodded.
Y/N graced Jenna with a bright smile and asked "Think you can run?" and without waiting for Jenna's answer, Y/N tugged Jenna's hands as they started to run away from the crowd and went inside the department store which where they try to lose the people that is trying to follow Jenna.
Even though they are out of breath, smiles was plastered in their faces, hands are tightly held with each other and with every passing floor that they run to, they got into a secluded place of the store and got the chance to take a little rest and chase their breaths.
Y/N was the one to break the silence "Well that was fun." and she handed Jenna a handkerchief that was neatly folded inside her back pocket while she swiped her own sweat with another handkerchief that she got from her front pocket.
Jenna accepted the handkerchief and helped herself "Always ready. huh?" and smirked, while Y/N answered "Yup, we never know when a pretty lady needs one, right?" and winked at Jenna.
AND DAMN, Jenna knows that she is blushing so she just kept on blotting her face.
"Do you have a ride home? I can drop you by if you want." Y/N kindly offered, and Jenna is too tired to defy so she just nodded and said "Yes please."
---
While in the car, the album that Y/N played earlier continued to help them blur out the noise from the outside.
"Thank you for earlier, I was just trying to relax then everything got out of hand and then one moment I was alone the I got crowded by a lot of people and I kind of just shut down and blurred my environment." Looking at y/N's side profile with a sad look on her face.
"Hey now, don't be hard on yourself. It's fine and you're welcome. I don't know how you fully feel about the situation that happened earlier but I am right here to listen to it and to understand you okay? I'm here to listen. It's okay to blur things out when everything got out of hand." Y/N answered with a soft smile plastered on her face.
Red light was indicated by the traffic light and that got Y/N a chance to reach for Jenna's hand and squeeze it without looking at her.
Jenna smiled, thankful not only for what Y/N did earlier but for what she also said. Because it sometimes irritates her when someone tells her "I know and I understand your situation" because they just don't. Jenna believed that even if we are faced with the exact same thing in our life, it doesn't mean that we get to experience it just the same. This is where Jenna's understanding the life of other people is not as easy or hard as hers, we have different perspective in life and how we view things.
A comfortable silence once again situated in the air not until Jenna hears Y/N humming to the song that is playing that is slowly turning into mumbled lyrics.
"So why can't you for once, disregard the world and run to what you know is real." Y/N sang without a care in her mind and not noticing that Jenna is now staring at her.
"Take a chance with me... take a chance with me." Y?N sang with such desperation that got Jenna thinking "who the hell is she pertaining that to?"
The car suddenly breaks and Y/N looked at Jenna "Well, we arrived at our destination."
That got Jenna sad, since it means no Y/N beside her.
"Thank you again for earlier and driving me home. I can't think of anything to repay your kindness." Jenna said shyly.
"Hey, don't mind it, we are friends, and I will totally help you whenever you need me." Y/N said, which hurt Jenna slight because Y/N just used the word "friend" but that is a good start isn't it?
"Okay let's stop moping and what if you repay me by going to a concert with me this coming weekend?" Y/N hopefully asked Jenna. Asking her in a concert might be to dangerous since there are a lot of people that will notice them, but taking a risk isn't bad thing, right?
Jenna smirked and nodded her head "Sure, absolutely, I would love to join you."
Y/N went out of her side and went to Jenna's side to open her car door "This way m'lady" Y/N said with a curtsy that made Jenna laugh.
"Hmm, a gentle woman who open doors and gives me a curtsy huh." Jenna teased while Y/N answered "Well this probably will never get out of style huh?" with a grin.
"Oh yeah? You doing some old stuff like curtsy get you girls? Is that why you are still driving a stick?" Jenna teased with a laugh and Y/N acted hurt and answered "Why would you say that? I love my car and it makes me feel like I'm racing just like in Fast and the Furious."
They walked to the Ortega's front door and stand in front of each other.
Jenna broke the silence "Thank you again." and her pointer finger silently reached for Y/N's pointer finger, which Y/N decided to give and they intertwined it with each other.
With Y/N's other hand, she swats the flying hair away from Jenna's face and tell her "Again, if it is for you, I'll always be there." and smiles.
"That's fucking cheesy."
Jenna and Y/N heard from their side and saw Aliyah with a teasing face. The both of them didn't noticed that the door opened just a few seconds after they got situated in the front door.
Jenna immediately closed their front door and yelled "WHAT THE HELL ALIYAH."
Y/N just laughed and said "I'm going now, have some rest." and waved going to her car.
Jenna then yelled "Text me when you got home and stay safe!"
Jenna stayed at their front porch playing with her finger that touched Y/N not knowing that Y/N is also doing the same inside of her car.
Y/N smiled at herself and screams inside her car, not because she is stressed but she is filled with happiness that was caused by this girl whom she just dropped off.
Jenna entered their living room and yelled "ALIYAH YOU ARE SO DEAD."
______________________________________________________________
Chap 4
A/N: Thanks for reading. Comments and suggestions are appreciated! Hope you enjoyed the story and you can click this song title to listen to the song Take A Chance With Me by NIKI.
#jenna ortega x y/n#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x fem!reader#jenna ortega x reader#NotStrongEnough#fiction#fanfic#jenna ortega imagine#wednesday addams imagine#tara carpenter x reader
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BINGO
Senku Ishigami x Reader
summary: Chrome bugs you about a game Senku taught him how to play. cw: a little dirty at the end but nothing crazy aunote: Quick scenario about Senku and reader. I used a pig translator for Gen’s parts, apparently that is what he speaks when he says his words backwards… I don't know if that's true or not. Finished watching season 3 of Dr. Stone and saw that there wasn’t much fanfics for them. So here’s one from me. Enjoy and happy reading! 🐼🖤 wc: 700+ (proofread 🙈)
“Hey, Senku taught me a new game.” Chrome nudges you.
“ Oh yeah and what game would that be?” you continue to knead the dough, not looking at Chrome.
“ It's a very hard game, I’ve been so close to beating Senku.” he smirks at you, rummaging in his pocket.
“ Take a look at it.” he flashes you the cards with numbers on it.
You cover the dough and place it on the table next to the other ones that Francois kneaded, you wash your hands, looking at the cards in his hand.
�� Bingo….” -your brows furrow at Chrome- “Senku taught you how to play Bingo?”
He nods happily, “It’s a great game we should play, I need to get better so that I can beat Senku.”
You shake your head, drying your hands off on your apron before taking it off and hanging it up in its designated area.
“And why do you wanna play with me?” you walk over to the oven checking the temperature before pushing past the curtains and walk outside.
“ Cuz Senku told me you were easy to beat.” he smirks, pulling out more items from his pouch.
You sigh as you scan the field for Senku. “That dumbass” you whisper under your breath.
“ Fine, I’ll play with you but I know how to help you win against Senku.” you smirk at Chrome.
“Hey Senkuu!! I’m ready to play with you again.” Chrome yells while jogging towards Senku who was standing next to Taiju and Yuziriha. They were busy going over inventory, and Senku was talking to Yuzihara about making more winter clothes for everyone. Senku looks up at him, he sees you jogging behind Chrome with a grin on your face.
“Looks like he actually went to ask her about the game. You tease her too much Senku.” Yuzihara chuckles.
Taiju rubs the back of his head and laughs out loud. “Of course he would! But ya know you can’t trick her.” Taiju slaps Senku on the back.
Senku does his signature laugh as he puts his hands on his hips. “I know ya big oaf, but I like to try anyway.” he walks over to Chrome who's setting up the cards on a table.
“I'm ready for you.” -Chrome gives you a wink and a thumbs up- “I know all the tricks.”
You give Chrome a thumbs up and winking back at him. “Shall we begin Senku?” you drag out his name just a little longer.
“B64, G17, O53, I7, N-”
“BINGO!” Chrome shouts, slapping his card on the table, he throws his fist in the air.
“Woohoo! Great job Chrome!” you clap for him as you run towards him giving him a hug, you guys both jump in joy and tease Senku, sticking your tongues out.
“Blehh, we won and you looost.”
Senku just smirks and digs his ear. “Good job, I went easy on you..” he shrugs as he walks off.
“I29” Slap!
“B34” Slap!
“S-senku, please.” -he chuckles at you- “thought you said you could beat me.” he rubs your red ass cheek.
“B-but I already won.” you whimper as he leans down to kiss the small of your back.
“ Your so close though.” he smirks “ let’s continue”
“ N-N…69” Slap!
You moan as he slips a finger in your wet slit.
“ That’s a good girl. I think you deserve more. Get on the bed.” he slaps your ass one more time before letting you go. You saunter towards the bed and lay down. “This is going to be a long night.” you think to yourself.
Senku slips off his clothes then walks towards you before pulling you into a kiss.
“One more time” he whispers in your ear and chuckles.
Extra Trimmings!! “Hey Chrome wanna play Bing-” “Shhhhh ,don’t say that word around Senku.” Chrome covers Gen's mouth. “W-why not?” Gen asks, pushing Chrome's hand away from his mouth. “B-because last night I heard slapping and moaning coming from Senkus hut, talking about how that’s what she gets for playing Bin-that game. She kept saying one number in particular saying that she liked it alot.” Gens face turns bright red. “W-what was the umbernay(number)?” he whispers, afraid of the answer. “69.” Chrome whispers back. “Whatcha talkin bout?” Senku rubs the back of his head as he yawns standing behind them. Gen and Chrome both scream and take off spouting, “Othingnay (nothing)!” “We’re not talking about Bin-” “Ushhay (hush) it!”
#dr stone#drstone xreader#senku x reader#dr stone senku#ishigami senku#dr stone chrome#dr stone gen#senku ishigami#bingo senku#honeytrap🐼
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Deck the Halls (and not your partner) - part 12
it's here everybody
I just want to say a HUGE thank you to everybody that has read and enjoyed along with me, whether that was in the form of reblogging with commentary, leaving a comment or kudos, or even if you just read it and moved on, and to everyone who binge read after the whole thing came out, or stumbled across it months after it finished, thank you to you too. this has most definitely been a labour of love, very self-indulgent at most points, and I have thoroughly enjoyed writing every word (although maybe not so much when Steph was being a grade-A Bitch), and I hope you enjoy this last part!
while the main work of this series is over, keep an eye out for holiday specials (bc I can't just let go of my schmoopies forever)!
Warnings: swearing, mildly spicy bit near the start, you might cry from this being the finale (I did lol), flustered/awkward lockwood, oh you also might cry from the part in the middle/end because I'm evil and can't let you have a fully happy ending (@ the anon who requested this hopefully this satisfied the masochistic urge hehehe), if I forgot anything it's bc I'm tired while I write this
Word count: 6.3k
series masterlist
“Are you sure you’ve got everything? It’s a long way to go if you leave something behind,” Ben said, peering in on Anthony and Y/n where they sat in their loveseat.
They had packed pretty much everything but their wash bags (which they would need tomorrow morning) and pyjamas (which they would wear tonight), and now they were cuddled up in front of the fire that was roaring in the hearth. “Yeah, I think so. I’ve checked and double checked so if we leave anything behind then we’ll just have to make do.” Her father nodded, smiling at them before ducking back out the room. Everybody else was gathered in the kitchen, making drinks and getting dinner (leftovers and an assortment of deli), which meant that Y/n and Anthony had the living room to themselves. “You alright?” she asked, voice quiet. He hummed in answer, the low sound vibrating in his chest and through her head where it laid on his shoulder.
“I’m more than alright, darling. Looking forward to being home again, though. Not that I haven’t enjoyed the last few days,” he hurried to add. “I just miss sleeping in my own bed.”
“I get that.” There was a momentary lull in the conversation, both of them basking in the warmth of the fire and each other. “Wait. I feel like we should probably… talk about when we get back? And what… what we’re going to do about…” she trailed off, waving her free hand between them.
“No, you’re right. We should… we should definitely talk about that.” Another lull, although this one was slightly more tense. “I mean-” Anthony cut himself off with a huff, and she felt him clench his jaw from where she was nestled underneath it. “If you wanted, you could move out of the attic? Obviously if you’d rather stay rooming with Lucy then that’s fine too, I just-”
“Where would I go if I wasn’t in the attic?” She cut him off when he started to ramble, lifting up her head to frown at him. He flushed a delightful pink that wasn’t too dissimilar from the socks he had on, and opened and closed his mouth a few times before turning even more red and answering.
“In… in my room? It’s a big bed, although not quite as large as the one here, and I’ve got extra pillows if you wanted. But if you would rather stay upstairs then that’s fine too.” He was fidgeting, his leg bouncing and his tongue darting out to wet his lips, and Y/n smiled softly.
“If you’re sure you don’t mind?”
“Of course I don’t mind, darling.” The blush stayed on his cheeks but his worry eased. “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t want you there.”
“Then… when we get back tomorrow, can I just go straight to bed with you?”
“Absolutely,” he grinned, and she couldn’t help but mirror his smile, pressing a small kiss to his lips.
“Ew, go suck faces somewhere else.” Y/n rolled her eyes at Will’s teasing tone, flipping her middle finger up at him and putting it away swiftly when Tom walked in, already snacking on the food on his plate. She hadn’t heard Will come in, which was quite the feat given how loudly he was chewing, but he was smiling behind his comments as he settled into an armchair. He was ecstatic that he could openly tease his younger sister now (much to her chagrin) and had wasted no time in doing so. “Bet you two are glad you’re going home?”
“Yeah. It’ll be nice to be back in London, I think,” she replied, shifting around in Anthony’s lap to face the room a little more. “And I miss the others. I did call George the other day after we booked our train tickets, just to let him know what was happening and when we’d be back, but the reception is so bad up here that contacting any of the others has been tricky.” Lucy had been somewhere near them visiting Norrie, but her signal had been awful too. Y/n hadn’t seen the point in calling when mostly it was just static.
“I didn’t realise you’d called George,” Anthony said.
“Oh, yeah. I knew he’d be at Portland Row so I figured I should let him know why we weren’t there. He said he wasn’t gonna spend the entire holiday with his family because of the whole ‘your siblings are engineers, so why aren’t you’ thing that always happens.” George had been the first friend that Y/n had opened up to, despite sharing a room with Lucy. They had been researching for a case together in the Archives late into the night, early on after Y/n had first joined the agency, and something about the calm atmosphere and rustle of the papers had meant that when George asked about her backstory in a tea break she had spilled it all. Lucy had been next, also late at night while the boys were on their own case, and Holly not too long after. But George had been the first, and the two of them had been close ever since. He’d opened up to her about his own family, and they’d found they had more in common than they had originally thought.
“Well, it’s a good job you called. I imagine he would have been quite worried about us.”
“Us? No, George was definitely only worried about me. He didn’t once ask about you.”
“Rude.”
“I’m just telling the truth, it’s not my fault your ego can’t handle it,” Y/n teased. Anthony scoffed, fighting the smile that was breaking through.
“Sure, Schmoopie.” Her responding glare would have been enough to make even Barnes shrink back, but Anthony could see that it lacked any heat when directed at him.
He did yelp when she jabbed him in the side though, and her grin turned devilish.
~~~
The next morning, Anthony was awake before Y/n was.
At some point in the night she had obviously grown cold, as the duvet was bunched up more on her side than it was his, leaving most of his body out in the not-so-warm air of the bedroom. He didn’t mind, though. Not if it meant that she was happy.
He didn’t often get the chance to admire her in the morning, not without her knowing he was doing it (not in a creepy way, it just meant that he often got caught and she often made fun of him), so he took his time now.
He didn’t think he would ever get over how gorgeous she was.
There was barely any light in the room, but from what little he could see she looked like an angel, especially in the t-shirt of his that she kept stealing. He didn’t mind that either, mostly because somehow she made it look so much better than he ever could. Anthony wasn’t a fool (although given his behaviour over the past few years there was definitely a strong argument against him), and he was well aware that Y/n knew the effect her wearing his clothes had on him. He’d had to excuse the two of them the other day when she’d come downstairs for breakfast wearing his grey hoodie and her pyjama shorts, and when they reemerged from their room nobody commented on the flushed faces or the messy hair of either of them (Y/n had stayed in the hoodie, too). She’d teased him mercilessly since finding out, and now he finally had an opportunity to gaze lovingly at her without her poking fun at him.
“Morning.” Damn, he must have cursed himself and made her wake up.
“Good morning, darling.” He smiled at her, wedging his arm under his head while he watched her wipe the sleep from her eyes and turn to face him. “Did you sleep alright?”
“Yeah. Like a log. You been awake long?” She reached out for his hand where it rested on the pillow between them, and he gladly let her thread her fingers through his.
“Not really. Any good dreams?” There was a pause where she flushed, and Anthony’s curiosity only grew when she shook her head.
“Not… not that I can think of.” She was avoiding his eyes, which meant she was lying. He smiled, huffing a laugh before shifting his weight.
“Are you sure, darling?”
“Prick.” He laughed properly at that and propped himself up on an elbow. Y/n had covered her face with her hands to hide the rapidly growing flush, and she was shrinking further into the mattress with every passing second. “It wasn’t even- we were just, like… in a field.”
“What?”
“We were just having a picnic in a field. It was sweet.” She still hadn’t moved her hands so Anthony had to strain a little to hear what she was saying, but the amusement was very present in his voice when he next spoke.
“So why are you acting like we were doing something else?” There was another pause, and he raised his eyebrows. “Were we doing something else?”
“It might… have ended up that way…”
“I see,” he said, moving again to prevent the arm under his head from falling asleep. Instead of lying back down, however, he pushed himself further up, placing one hand beside Y/n’s head and the other at her waist, slotting a leg between her thighs. He felt her shiver in response, and he gently pried her hands away from her face, lacing his fingers through hers and holding their joined hands in position on the other side of her head.
“Anthony,” she whispered, lifting her hips a little and brushing her nose against his.
“Yes?” He could feel her breath on his mouth, could feel it hitch when he let go of her hand to trail his own down her arm slowly, then tracing a path down the side of her body to her thigh. She didn’t answer him, instead reaching up to grab the back of his neck, tangling her fingers in the hair there (god, he loved it when she did that) and kissing him in a way that reminded him of honey. It was long and slow, both taking their time to bask in each other, although if she kept tugging lightly at his hair in the way that she was then he might have to speed the pace up a little. It was ridiculous, the power she held over him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. If she was an angel, then he would gladly fall into hell a million times over for this little piece of paradise he was experiencing right now.
He wasn’t sure how long they were there for, kissing, laughing softly when the t-shirt got stuck around her head, tangling limbs but never taking it further than a few bold touches just in case someone walked in with the morning tea, but it felt like barely a few seconds and eternity at the same time.
When Ben did eventually knock on the door, Anthony went to answer, collecting the teas with a smile and a thank you before kicking the door closed. He smiled down at Y/n where she lay in bed, eyes closed to the light of the lamp that had just been flicked on, and planted a lingering kiss on her forehead. The action had her smiling immediately, and Anthony felt his heart jump in his chest.
They spent most of the next hour lazing in bed, trading more kisses and soft touches before their stomachs started complaining and they were forced to get up and have breakfast.
A million times, Anthony mused as he watched Y/n get stuck in her (his) jumper. A million times and more, and he had definitely fallen for her already.
~~~
“Alright, you’re absolutely sure you have everything?”
“Yes, Mum, just like I was the previous six times you asked.”
“I just want to be sure! Who knows when we’ll next see you!” The statement hung in the air for a few seconds, the words sinking in and nestling into everybody’s minds.
“Soon,” Y/n said, her tone decisive. “As long as Steph and Linda aren’t there.”
“I think I can live with that,” her mother grinned. Anthony and her father had been pulling their bags out of the car and were just now rejoining the gathered family members. Her parents were here, as was Will, but everybody else had stayed behind. They had said their goodbyes back at the house, with promises of phone calls for Nana Jean and Gramps and games of whatever Tom liked the most when she next saw him. Olivia had pretended to be indifferent about her sister leaving, but had squeezed just that little bit tighter when Y/n had said that she really needed to go. Y/n had pretended not to notice the slight shine to Olivia’s eyes, opting to ruffle her hair and laugh instead. Sam and John had wrapped her in hugs so tight she thought she might pass out before even stepping foot outside the house, and had left one last remark of ‘if you hurt her, we’ll kill you’ with Anthony before waving them off cheerfully as though they hadn’t just threatened murder.
“Right then, Squeak. How long ’till your train?” Will asked, placing an arm over her shoulders and drawing her into his side.
“About thirty minutes?”
“Why do you always get here so early? You could have had another cup of tea!”
“Uh, no, we couldn’t. Have you got any idea how much can go wrong with trains?!” Will just laughed at her, shaking his head in disbelief.
“You’re ridiculous, Squeak.”
“You love me anyway though.”
Their parents stepped over then, having finished talking to Anthony about… whatever they had been talking about (she had been too busy with her conversation with Will to hear), and wrapped her in a teary hug. “You promise you’ll come back sometime next year?” her mother choked out, pulling back and holding her daughter by the shoulders.
“Promise, Mum.” Her father hugged her then, letting Will comfort Emma.
“I love you, Y/n. You’ll call us too, won’t you?”
“Of course,” she replied, huffing a laugh. “I already said I would about a hundred times.”
“We’re just making sure! Right. Off you two go, then, or you’ll miss your train.”
“Ben, they’ve got half an hour.”
“I know that, Emma, but what if something goes wrong?”
“Dad, please don’t jinx it. I’ll let you know when we’re back, alright?” She moved away, grabbing the handle of her suitcase and frowning when she felt Anthony’s hand already there. “I can take my own luggage, Ant.”
He shrugged. “I know. But I’ve got two hands and you have the tickets.”
“Your logic doesn’t make much sense; I also have two hands. And anyway, you could have your bag and your ticket, and I could have mine!”
“Just- just let me take your luggage, darling.” How could she say no when he was looking at her like that? She relented her grasp on the handle, casting him a mock glare before turning to look at her family one last time.
“Have a safe journey, you two,” her mother said with a smile.
“Yeah, get back home safe,” Y/n responded, starting to move towards the station entrance. She could hear Anthony behind her, the suitcase wheels dragging on the concrete while his repurposed kit bag bounced against his side.
“You alright?” he asked once they were on the train, bags safely stowed.
“Yeah. Looking forward to being home again.” It was funny, really. The last time she had been on a train she would have scowled at herself for calling Anthony Lockwood’s house her home, but now here she was, doing it without a second thought.
“What are we going to tell the others?”
“Well… it’ll be late when we get back, right? I mean it’s already three o’clock now and it’s getting darker, so maybe by the time we get in they’ll be in bed? Or on a case if they managed to get a client. We could just do what you said and see how long it takes them?”
“I think you coming out of my bedroom in the morning would be a pretty big hint, darling. But I do love a game,” he grinned, already thinking about their friends’ reactions. “How do we think they’re going to respond?”
“Not a clue. George will probably say ‘I told you so’ or something.”
“Was… was that meant to be an impression of George?”
“Yeah?”
“Darling, no offence, but I think you might be worse than me.”
“Arsehole.”
~~~
It was dark when they got back, although that wasn’t a surprise given it was the middle of winter.
Anthony had unloaded the bags from the taxi, smiling and thanking the driver with both words and payment, and had turned around to see Y/n stood on the pavement. She looked exhausted, rubbing her eyes and yawning while she waited for him to finish up. The gate stood locked, and 35 Portland Row seemed empty, the windows as dark and grey as the sky.
Weird, he thought. Maybe they’re out on a case.
He shouldered his bag and pulled up the handle on Y/n’s suitcase just as the last of the noise from the taxi leaving died off and the road went quiet. Then he heard a scream that was so piercing he dropped the luggage and clapped his hands over his ears, squeezing his eyes shut as though it would save his hearing. A ghost? Only Visitors could make a sound that fear-inducing, and if the chill that crept along his spine was anything to go by he would need some sort of weapon. Maybe their best bet was to get inside the house, so he reached for his keys and tried to block out the screaming.
His keys.
Shit, where were his keys? He looked up to see if Y/n was alright, if she had maybe had the wise idea to remove herself from possible danger before he did, and his heart stopped in his chest.
The gate was still closed, and 35 Portland Row still empty and cold. Somehow it felt a whole lot darker than it had just a few moments ago, and Anthony belatedly realised that it might have something to do with the rapidly spreading blue tinge on Y/n’s arm. He couldn’t see any Visitors nearby, or any death glows that might have been stepped on by either one of them to provoke an attack, but all of that had happened so fast that he didn’t have time to process any of it. “Darling? Darling look at me.” He couldn’t hide the tremor in his voice when he spoke, memories of another time a girl he had loved died in much the same way, and he refused to let that happen again. “Let’s get you inside, yeah? There’s some adrenaline shots in the hallway, I just need you to stand up for me, darling. Y/n, please. Please, just stand up.” Why was she so heavy? Why was he so heavy? Was this what dying felt like?
“Anthony?”
Why did her voice sound so far away? No. He couldn’t let this happen. He tried to lift her again, but somehow she was even heavier than before. Maybe he was tired, or too weak.
“Anthony, what’s going on?” Her face was blurring and he realised that it was because he was crying, but his hands were too weighted to lift and wipe the tears away.
“I don’t know,” he muttered, his voice cracking. “I don’t know, darling. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You’ll be okay.”
“Anthony!”
That had been louder, as though she were talking right into his ear, and he gasped for air and sat bolt upright.
“Anthony, are you okay? You looked-”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, eyes blinking back the harsh light that threatened to turn him blind.
“What are you sorry for?”
“I can’t… I can’t help you,” his breath was coming faster now, and vaguely he noted that there was someone nearby offering him water. His gaze was solely fixed on Y/n, though, and-
Wait. Hadn’t she been on the floor? Now she was on his left where before she had been on his right and in his arms, and her arms were the colour they always were, no blue tinge in sight. “Anthony, what were you dreaming about?”
He stared at her, partly in realisation that none of it had been real, but mostly in disbelief that she wasn’t dying in his arms in front of their home. “What?” The train carriage came back into focus, checkered seats and wooden table forming solid shapes in his line of vision. The view out the windows was barely visible from how dark it was.
“You were asleep, and then you started… I don’t know. Twitching, I guess? And you were talking but I couldn’t make it out but you sounded really sad, and-” He cut her off by launching himself at her, wrapping his arms around her torso and burying his face in her neck and holding his breath. “Ant?” She paused, slowly bringing her own arms around him and shifting position so that she was more comfortable. “Are… are you breathing right now? I’m gonna need you to breathe for me, Ant, can you do that?”
He did, and immediately choked on a sob. It hadn’t been real, and she was alive. They sat there for a long time while he cried, and then even longer after his tears had subsided and he was just sniffling into her neck. He didn’t know whereabouts they had been when he first woke up, but Y/n finally moved him off of her the station before theirs. “Sorry, just need to shake my arm out. You’re heavier than you look, you know.” They both sat up, and Anthony went to take a tissue out of his coat pocket. “Here,” Y/n whispered, reaching up to wipe his face with her sleeve. Her hands were gentle, barely-there touches on his cheek, but Anthony needed more. He pushed her hand to his face, focusing on the pressure and the warmth of her skin, and the callouses that had built up from being an agent all these years. A few seconds later he felt her forehead against his, and her breath on his mouth (her breath was warm too), and her other hand slipping into his hair, holding him as close as possible. “You’re okay. It’s okay. We’ll be back soon, alright? I think it’s only about ten minutes until we get to our station and then we can call a taxi and go home.”
“Okay.” Whoever it was that had been offering water earlier had left the bottle on the table, and he reached for it now, twisting the cap and downing the liquid. “We’ll be careful once we get out though, right? Because it’s dark and there could be Visitors, and we don’t have our rapiers, and-”
“Anthony, we will be absolutely fine.” Her tone was firm and she pulled his chin up to stare directly in his eyes. “The taxi will drop us off right outside, and if you like I’ll take the keys and get the kettle on. Or you can do that and I’ll get the bags, or we can get our own bags and go up together. Whichever you feel most comfortable with, yeah?” When he nodded she sighed, letting go of his chin and holding his hand instead. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. But if you do, I’m here, alright?”
“I know. Thank you.”
He didn’t let go of her hand until they were safely back in 35 Portland Row, front door shut and locked and bags in his room ready to be unpacked in the morning.
~~~
Lucy Carlyle had had the best sleep of her life.
She’d come back from seeing Norrie the day before, the freak snowstorm keeping her from getting back sooner, and the journey had been so horrific she’d passed out the moment she got into bed. Screaming children and drunk men had populated the carriage, creating so much noise that she hadn’t been able to go to sleep on the train, and she was starting to look like Lockwood with the bags under her eyes.
Now it was nearly midday, and she had managed to crawl out of bed, sling on some clothes, and stumble down the stairs to put the kettle on for some tea.
Given how late Lockwood and Y/n must have got back last night (it had been after her, and the clock in the hall had shown a time that was both far too late and far too early for her liking), she had been expecting them, as well as George, to be in bed. But then again Y/n hadn’t been in the attic with her when she’d woken up just now (although her vision had been rather blurry, so she totally could have missed a whole human being in the room), so maybe she was already downstairs?
What she hadn’t expected was walking in to the kitchen to see both Y/n and Lockwood having a normal conversation (well, as normal as conversations in this house could go, she was quite sure they were discussing frogs), in which neither of them was glaring or looking like they would commit a felony at any given moment. Lockwood was leaning back against the kitchen sink (looking very snug in his grey hoodie and comfy trousers), mug of tea in one hand while the other braced his weight on the counter, and he was chatting happily to Y/n (who was wearing what looked suspiciously like one of Lockwood’s jumpers). She was sat at the kitchen table, cupping her tea with both hands, and the smile on her face, Lucy realised with a start, was genuine.
“… Morning?” She started, pushing the kitchen door open and moving further into the room, eyeing her friends.
“Morning, Luce,” Lockwood replied, taking a large gulp of his tea. He didn’t seem fazed by the incredibly strange situation that was happening right now (was this some sort of a fever dream? Maybe she was hallucinating from sleep deprivation or something), and Lucy nearly poured the still-hot water on her hand instead of in the mug. “Sleep alright?”
“Uh… yeah. What time did you two get back last night?”
“Oh, I don’t even know,” Y/n started. “Definitely past two in the morning, but we were so tired we didn’t really look at the time.”
“Right.” There was a pause while Lucy finished making her tea, and as she took an experimental first sip she regarded them over the top of her drink. “So… Y/n. Did you just collapse on the sofa downstairs or something? I didn’t hear you come in last night.” The other girl froze for a moment, and if Lucy wasn’t a trained operative then she probably wouldn’t have noticed it since her panic was almost instantly replaced by forced calm.
“Oh, uh…” she glanced at Lockwood, who made some sort of face in reply. “… no?”
“Huh, you must have been quiet, then. That or I was sleeping like a rock.”
“Sure,” Y/n said, a weird look on her face. She was smiling, but almost like she knew something that Lucy didn’t, and that puzzled her. A chuckle sounded from the corner of the room, and under a blue and white striped tea towel, Skull had woken up.
“You’re really going to take that for an answer? She didn’t even pick one!” Lucy frowned, begrudgingly realising that Skull was right. Y/n hadn’t really answered her question, and what had happened at her parents’ house the last couple of weeks for her to stop trying to kill Lockwood by glaring at him?
As nonchalantly as possible she asked “So you were quiet? Or was I sleeping like a rock?”
“Um… I was quiet?” She didn’t sound very sure, and Lucy’s suspicion was growing at the same rate that Skull’s grin was.
“I know for a fact she didn’t make it all the way up the stairs last night,” he said, some of the sludge in the jar forming comically large eyebrows that waggled around. Now that was interesting. Why would Y/n say she’d been quiet coming in if she had never come in in the first place? Lucy was just about to ask that very question when George trudged into the kitchen, oversized shirt thankfully covering what his lack of trousers didn’t. He pushed his glasses up his nose and squinting at the people gathered.
“… What’s going on? Y/n’s not trying to murder Lockwood.”
“Why is that a thing?! I’m not always trying to kill him!”
“In fairness, it was a regular occurrence, dar-” Lockwood’s mouth snapped shut, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. Lucy saw his jaw clench, unclench, then clench again while he flitted his eyes closed in some sort of silent prayer.
“Yeah…” George said. “This is weird.” He stood at the head of the table, lifting a hand to scratch at his side like a monkey. “Dare I ask how your Christmas was?”
“I mean… Steph and Linda were there, but after I slapped Steph and Mum shouted at Linda they left.” Lucy stood straighter in shock, pushing off the counter she had previously been leaning on. George was similarly surprised, but Lockwood? Lockwood was grinning with pride.
“You slapped your cousin?!” George exclaimed, a smile growing on his face. “Like, you properly hit her?!”
“I mean… yeah?” Y/n replied, taking a sip of tea.
“It was awesome,” Lockwood added, and Lucy and George shared a look.
“You think he would have said that before?” Skull piped up again. “I certainly don’t. Something happened while they were away, that’s for sure. And I know what it was!” He said the last part in a sing-song voice, face turning over in the jar.
“Yeah, well you could just tell me,” Lucy muttered, drawing everyone’s attention. “Sorry. Skull’s talking.”
“Where’s the fun in that! Better to watch you figure it all out on your own!”
“Bastard.”
George had started making his own tea, popping two slices of bread into the toaster and giving it a good whack when it didn’t immediately start working. Satisfied that his breakfast was underway, he busied himself with his drink. “So Y/n… how come your suitcase was in Lockwood’s room?” he questioned, turning and pushing his glasses further up his nose. Lucy tried to disguise her shock, but that resulted in a small smirk instead, her eyebrows rising while she regarded her friends.
Lockwood answered. “She didn’t want to lug it all the way up the stairs, not with the time being what it was. It just… hasn’t been moved yet.” Y/n nodded, a little too enthusiastically, and cast a worried glance towards Skull.
“So Y/n and her suitcase slept in Lockwood’s room?” George asked, still probing for answers. He had a little smile on his face, one of those ‘I figured it out’ ones that when she had first joined the agency, Lucy had mistaken for ‘I’m better than you’ smirks. She wasn’t far behind him, and if she hadn’t already figured it out then the reactions of Y/n and Lockwood were enough to confirm her suspicions.
“Yeah, that’s right,” Y/n said, sipping her tea. There was a brief pause in which Lockwood nodded, smiling softly at her, and then it set in. Lockwood looked like he had malfunctioned, the cogs in his brain turning but not producing any kind of reaction other than a blank stare with confused eyes. Y/n choked on her mouthful of tea, spitting some of it back out into the mug and resting it on the kitchen table while she coughed. Immediately Lockwood’s brain started functioning properly again, and he quickly put his own tea down and went to help Y/n, fussing over her like a worried parent.
Skull was chuckling in the corner again, and Lucy couldn’t help but join in. George laughed too, his mirth only growing when Lockwood and Y/n turned and glared at him. “Alright,” Lucy started. “Why was Y/n sleeping with Lockwood?”
“I wasn’t sleeping with him!” the other girl spluttered, apparently thinking that Lucy had suggested that the pair of them had had sex, and George was now nearly doubled over with laughter. Lockwood smirked, and before Lucy could protest he was already opening his mouth.
“I mean not last night, but there were plenty of times at your parents’ house where we-”
“OH MY DAYS NO, STOP-” Y/n got up, all but tackling Lockwood to the ground and slapping her hand over his mouth to prevent him from finishing his sentence. Lockwood went down like a sack of potatoes, and the ‘oof’ he let out on impact had made Lucy snort into her mug. “They don’t need to know that, idiot,” she whispered, but since sound echoed in the kitchen Lucy and George could still hear her, even after the toaster popped loudly.
“How long have you two… been like this?” Lucy asked, waving her hand in their direction where they now laid on the floor. Lockwood tried to talk but Y/n’s hand was still firmly keeping his mouth shut, and while he was attempting to prise himself out of her grip she was apparently too strong. Lucy didn’t want to think about how much his jaw would hurt afterwards; she had had pillow fights with Y/n that had ended with trips to the medical cabinet because the pair of them got too ambitious with their hits.
Y/n answered, still attempting to maintain some dignity. “On the floor? A few seconds-”
“Let me rephrase,” Lucy cut her off, putting her finished mug of tea down on the counter with a decisive thud. “How long have you two been together?” Y/n stilled, giving Lockwood time to wriggle out of her grasp and glance awkwardly between his gathered colleagues. He pushed himself to sit back against the kitchen cabinets, one arm resting outstretched on his knee while the other scratched at his neck. He was nervous, then. He looked like he wanted to answer, but he was still shifting his gaze between them all.
“Uh…” Y/n started. There was a pause, and then she sighed. “Dammit.” She fished around in her pocket and pulled out a slightly crumpled five pound note. Lucy frowned for a moment, wondering what the hell a fiver had to do with this situation, then huffed in surprise when it was passed very begrudgingly to Lockwood. He looked very pleased with himself, accepting the money without moving much, hand outstretched to catch the note between his index and middle fingers.
“What was that for?” George asked, although he’d just taken a mouthful of his toast so it came out more muffled.
“Lockwood said we wouldn’t last a day keeping it secret from you both, and I bet that we could.” Y/n shrugged, shuffling around on the floor to sit between Lockwood’s legs. He didn’t get the message at first, too busy stuffing the money into his hoodie pocket, but after a sharp jab to his thigh he moved, wrapping his arms around her waist and complaining when Y/n shoved her elbows into his middle.
“I swear you do that deliberately,” he muttered, but there wasn’t any malice behind it like there would have been before the holidays.
“I don’t! If you keep complaining about it then I will do it on purpose, dickhead.”
That was better. Lucy shuddered at the thought of the two of them being overly sickly sweet, all cuddles and pet names like ‘Sugar’ or ‘Schmoopie’, and was instantly glad that the competitive streak in them both had apparently stayed. It would be a lot easier to stomach living with a new couple if they weren’t being insufferably cute.
“So… you bet on your own acting skills?” questioned George, finishing his slice of toast. “Seems a bit stupid, really. You’re both awful at acting.” Lockwood and Y/n stopped bickering, instead staring up at George in shared outrage.
“How dare you! I’m a charades champion!”
“I can act, it’s Lockwood that’s the problem!”
They spoke at the same time, both pointing at Lockwood for their respective comments, and Y/n took a moment to take in what he’d said. “Charades champion?” she said, drawing out the syllables and turning slowly to look at him over her shoulder. “We already talked about this, Ant. Using props is cheating, so you lost every game you played!” Lucy frowned. ‘Ant’? Since when had Lockwood let anybody call him Ant?! Apparently he didn’t mind, instead being too busy looking at Y/n with hearts for eyes while he tried (ineffectively) to argue his case. It was obvious that Y/n would win, given how wrapped around her little finger Lockwood was, but the argument wasn’t really an argument. More like… friendly teasing. Lucy could deal with that, she decided. It was much better than having to comfort one of them or convince apologies out of them after a screaming match.
Skull had gone silent in the corner, but there was a smile in the sludge. He almost certainly had some information, but Lucy could get the details out of him and her friends later.
For now, she was content to watch them be a proper family for the first time since Y/n joined, even if Lockwood’s laughing face was being shoved away from the aforementioned girl as he tried to kiss her in an attempt to apologise for cheating at charades.
tag list (if you're on here twice or I forgot you I'm so sorry, this tag list is honestly such a mess whoops):
@strawberryloveyyy, @chameleon021, @genderfluid-anime-goth, @cottagecore-babe, @anthonylockwoodandco111, @a-taken-url, @ahead-fullofdreams, @aislinrayne, @anathemaloren, @anthgoldenhrry, @augustisintheair, @aysha4life, @briar-rose23, @curseofhecate, @dangelnleif, @edible-rat-vomit, @el-de-phi, @ell0ra-br3kk3r, @ettadear, @fearlessmoony, @fudosl, @idkbubs, @imaginebeingmentallystable, @informedimagining, @karensirkobabes, @lady-ashfade, @light-23, @locklyebrainrot, @locklyle1kanij, @locknco, @magicandrosewaters, @mentallyillsodapop, @mischivana, @mitskiswift99, @mrsklockwood, @mrsyixingunicorn10, @newbooksmell777, @no-morning-glories, @novelizt, @phlooper, @ran23sblog, @reggiepeterss, @simrah1012, @somethingrandomwatzit, @star-of-velaris, @superpositvecloudshipper, @t2sh0, @taygrls, @tournesol77, @whistle1whistle, @whenselenefallsinlove, @wordsarelife, @y0urm0m12, @zoom1374, @asyouwish-fromcabin3, @rhysand-devorak, @a-candle-maker, @h0lyheck, @apple-bottom-jeans6, @icantwaittoliveandlearn
@neewtmas, @bobbys-not-that-small, @avdiobliss, @demigoddess-of-ghosts, @maraschinomerry, @lewkwoodnco, @uku-lelevillain, @oblivious-idiot
#lockwood and co#lockwood & co#anthony lockwood#anthony lockwood x reader#lockwood x reader#anthony lockwood x you#deck the halls (and not your partner)#enemies to lovers#fake dating#christmas
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✨Mila's (Early) Endless Summer Reading List ✨
I'm packing my bags, so I thought I should pack my favorite stories: stuff that's been on my to-read list for too long, stuff I just enjoy re-reading and want you to know about, something to get me through the long-haul flight, something for sipping cocktails on the beach. I'm going to be updating the list with your recommendations and more stuff that I find. So:
Recommendations? 💕 YES PLEASE!
Recommend your own work? FUCK YES! ✨ minors dni, respect the author's tags, and show them some love by commenting and reblogging.
✨ TGM
mostly Bradley Bradshaw tbh lmao * This Love Came Back To Me by @beyondthesefourwalls i love these kinds of plots and it's so sweet *Remember You Even When I Don't by @beyondthesefourwalls i bizarrely never actually finished this and i will have to rectify this pronto *The Younger Kind by @roosterforme im like 20 chapters behind, soooo excited to binge this
*Leave a Light On by @sometimesanalice comfort story right here
*Hey Sailor by @sometimesanalice no notes, just yum
*Less Talk by @tongue-like-a-razor a jake story??? yes and i love this one *Faking It by @tongue-like-a-razor a classic, a must-read
*Little Wallflower by @bradshawsbitch it warms my poor heart and i feel this story on a personal level since I've been dealing with hearing loss
*Mise en Place by @bradshawsbitch hands down on my favorite AUs
*(christmas) baby please come home by @gretagerwigsmuse this fic influenced me so hard i bought a theragun *and even when we’re wrong in every way, we come out the other side okay by @gretagerwigsmuse actually just anything Jordan has ever done with the Smart Alec universe, you should read it
*Concerned Neighbor by @mothdruid this is just hot and you should enjoy it
*The Boyfriend Experience by @notroosterbradshaw i swear this is the fic that got me writing again, so if you like anything I've ever done you should go show Cass some love. *Don't Hang 'Em Till Noon by @sailor-aviator Jake western!AU? I knew I was rewatching Deadwood for a reason. Excited!! recommended by @goldenseresinretriever *Fool's Fare by @sailor-aviator A Jake pirate!AU while I'm on a beach in the Caribbean? Sign. me. up. Also recommended by @goldenseresinretriever *You Catch More Bees With Honey by @goldenseresinretriever I've seen this on my dash so much, but I shamefully never got around to it. How did you know I like hockey?
✨
Masters of the Air
Trust by @blurredcolour yeaaaaah, im obsessed. im deceased. this is so good.
prettier than a peach by @honeyskywitch reading this on my flight, so excited!
Oblivious by @sagesolsticewrites saving this one for the airport~
#mila's early endless summer#fic rec#bradley bradshaw fanfiction#rooster fanfic#rooster x reader#masters of the air fanfic#if you love it reblog it#john egan fic#top gun maverick fanfiction#mota fanfic
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Good Omens Fic Rec: Pass the Star
Azalea Fell meets Antoinette Crowley at her first roller derby bout with a new league. After an incident leads to a trip to A&E, the two are drawn to one another but Crowley is reluctant to potentially ruin a great friendship for something more.
Length: 57,618 Words
AO3 Rating: Explicit/ Spice Level 🔥🔥🔥🔥
Best for: Mostly Safe in Public, Human AU
Triggers: None
Read it here, fic by mageofthepeople
*Minor Spoilers* I'm super totally normal about this one. I've been on an ineffable wives obsession this week and that was largely due to this fic. This is everything I want in a wives story! It's fun, engaging, creative, and a total win for lesbians.
Azalea and Crowley are derby girls on rival teams. I love the derby use here because, well it's hot, but also it's a fun sport that I can totally understand these two enjoying. Crowley is obvious to understand, it's physical and aggressive, outside the norm, and again hot. But the hard work here was to make Azalea fit in this space. The author does this by giving us a character that has already done some of the work of leaving her repressive past behind. She's uniquely herself, has a strong moral code, still hates customers and selling books, and has a sense of fashion and style that doesn't give a damn what other people think. She's still our sexy bookseller, but with tattoos and skates! Ugh tattooed omens is like catnip to me!
But the setting also works because it's well crafted! If you didn't have an obsession with the Elliot Page movie Whip It like I did, and don't know anything about roller derby, there's no worry here. You'll be able to follow right along. And the side characters fit into this word great! Ana was a surprise use, and one that I enjoyed! I feel like we usually see a Gabriel type character in the role that Ana fills here, so I loved the shake up. Plus, CAT. It's an instant win for me when there's a cat.
And did I mention it's hot?? The sex scenes in here are a little shorter, but excellent, and something to keep thinking about afterwards for sure. It's mostly safe in public overall, but for me I devoured it in one sitting at home. It's set up well for something to read in smaller bits but I cannot resist a good binge read. It's also clearly setting up for a sequel and honey, I'm seated. I'm subscribed and ready to go the moment more of this series drops. Already after my first draft of this post we got one! So I will end with a reminder to always subscribe to your favorite authors, because if I hadn't been I may have missed another entry to this universe and I'm an addict to these girls.
Read it here, fic by mageofthepeople
#good omens#good omens fanfiction#good omens fanfic#fanfic rec#aziracrow#good omens fic rec#aziraphale x crowley#Pass the Star#mageofthepeople#mostly safe in public#long#femme charcter#ineffable wives#sports au#bookseller au#human au#four flames
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Sweet Reconciliation
Summary:
The last thing Danny expected was Phantom showing up at his front door and dragging him out for a day at the fair. He certainly didn’t want to hang out with 'Dan', much less trust him. But finding himself enjoying a day of rides and games? Sharing quips and food and heart-felt confessions? Maybe he and Dan have more in common than Danny realized.
Word Count: 9,217
Also on AO3
Notes:
It's finally here! I'm so excited to be posting my Valentine's Core Exchange. My giftee was @strawberry-avalanche . I went for a Danny & Dan centric fic, with some fluff, bonding, and redemption. I hope you enjoy this not-so-short story of Danny and Dan enjoying a day at the fair. Happy Reading! @valentines-core-exchange
Finally, it was a perfect Saturday, Danny thought. After all the chaos of time restructuring, his ghostly alter ego becoming number one on the most wanted list again, and learning how to help the ghosts instead of just fighting them, finally the half ghost had a day to himself. There was no one to bother him. His parents were out of town at a conference, his sister on a college tour. Vlad was out of his hair, busy with his new ward, a certain (formerly?) evil alternate Phantom. Best yet, he had plans with Sam and Tucker, an all day movie binge with all the popcorn and candy he could eat. Everything was absolutely perfect.
The boy bent down in his chair, tying his shoes to leave, when an insistent knocking came at the front door.
His brow furrowed; his friends weren’t supposed to be meeting him here, were they?
Another knock came, this one more forceful.
Danny stood, calling. “I’m coming.” He hurried across the kitchen, a second later pulling the door open. “Weren’t we meeting at S-”
The boy blinked, cutting himself off in his confusion. There, on the other side of the door was… himself. Or at least, the figure looked like him. The other teen wore all black, gothic look complete with eye-liner and half a dozen ear piercings. And a familiar scowl.
With that last piece of the puzzle, the answer fell into place. “Phantom?” Danny’s mouth fell open.
“Actually, it’s Dan.” His double shrugged, still scowling.
“Dan…” The boy said slowly. Was this really happening?
The other teen, at least in appearance, didn’t acknowledge the word. Instead, his eyes flickered to the house behind. An odd look flashed in them for a second before a forcible disaffection shifted into place. “You’re not doing anything today, right? Good.”
That broke Danny out of his disbelieving stoop. He stood up straighter, eyes narrowed in distrust. “Actually, I was going to-”
A hand suddenly pulled him out the door, distracting him from his protest. “We’re going to the fair.”
Danny blinked once. “What?”
“The Fair.” Phantom said slowly, like he was stupid. “What, got cotton in your ears?”
“I heard you.” Danny pulled his hand away, arms crossing. “Why?”
The other rolled his eyes. “Vlad is driving me crazy. So I stole his credit card.” With a flash of sharp teeth, he swiped out said card. “I’m gonna eat all the disgusting greasy food I want, cheat at some carnival games, and ride the squirrel cages ‘til I throw up.”
“Have fun?” Danny’s nose scrunched; why exactly was ‘Dan’ telling him this? Not that he cared, on his one day off in months. With a head shake, he pointed back into the house. “Whatever. Knock yourself out. I’m gonna-”
“No you don’t.” Phantom grabbed his arm again. “You’re coming with me.”
The movement gave Danny pause. That hand wrapped around his bicep, the solid warmth of it… he knew that Vlad had stabilized Phantom in this timeline using a human clone of himself, making the figure in front of him a half ghost again. But actually seeing the reality in front of him was another thing entirely. And the demand… “Why?”
The only answer was another eye-roll. Instead, Phantom started pulling Danny down the sidewalk. And the boy found himself following. He could keep arguing; a large part of him wanted to. He could even easily pull away – the other halfa’s grip wasn’t all that tight– but he didn’t resist.
Instead, Danny followed his counterpart into the alley beside Fentonworks.
Hand still around his arm, familiar white rings appeared around the other’s waist. They spread, the warm light tickling Danny's skin in an eerie reflection of his own transforming light. He stiffened, watching.
His double changed, corpse blue skin replacing the human tone. Shoulder-length black hair flickered to white flames. Familiar icy blue eyes became blood red.
Danny couldn’t help but flinch, the image playing behind his eyes, if in reverse. Cords of burning ecto energy binding him. A hellish warping of his own face, looming menacingly over him. Those same white rings, enfolding the figure into a smaller mirror image. So much worse than the towering monster -the nightmare of his enemy taking his place and hurting his loved ones.
The corpse-blue reflection filled his vision again. But now… they were truly eye to eye.
Phantom, teen-sized and equally scrawny, released him. His hard expression wavered for just a moment, brow furrowed, almost… remorseful. He stepped back. After a pause…
“Well? Aren’t you going to ‘go ghost’?” The air quotes were audible, with more than a hint of derision.
And yet, Danny felt his shoulders lowered ever so slightly, the anxious tamper of his heart easing. He summoned his own rings, turning into ghost form.
The two lifted from the ground, silently flying towards the fairgrounds. Danny followed his counterpart’s lead, eyes fixed on the back of the flaming head. The other ghost didn’t turn and look, gaze fixed on their destination. And that destination…
Soon, the colorful tents and rides rose into view. Music and laughter drifted through the air. Despite his swirling nerves, Danny couldn’t help the up-turned twitch of his lips.
“Here.” Phantom said gruffly, breaking Danny from his observation. The other half ghost pointed down, landing between two trailers. With a flash of light, he turned human again.
Danny did the same. A quick text to his friends to tell them where he was instead of handing out with them, and he was following his counterpart out of the fair employees’ parking lot and to the ticket counter. Phantom, surprisingly politely, bought two tickets. They passed through the gate, a cheery older woman giving the even-faced halfa a map.
“Where to first?” Danny asked, hands in his pockets. He gave a deceptively casual shrug.
The other didn’t look up for a long moment, nose buried in the map. His brow wrinkled in contemplation, like this was the most important decision he’d ever make.
Then, he pointed. “There. I need to see the biggest pumpkin in the state.”
Danny raised a brow, but he didn’t question. Wordlessly, he followed the other half ghost through the crowds and into a large white building. They passed through the door, the crowded barn smelling musty, of straw and barnyard animals.
All the while, Phantom’s even severe expression didn’t change. Flat faced and silent, his eyes flitted over the giant pumpkins and watermelons. Slowly, he walked along the rows of painted gourds and prize-winning apples. Through the bee-keeping display. Passed the glass case holding someone’s grandma’s first place honey candy.
Straw-floored pens held bleating lambs and wide-eyed calves. These didn’t crack that disaffected scowl. Nor the tiny piglets. Not even the fluffy baby chicks.
All the while, Danny’s stomach churned with conflict. Earlier he’d flippantly thought he didn’t care what ‘Dan’ did but that was a lie. Now his muscles pulled tense, ill at ease. His mind flickered back to the fight, to throwing down the thermos. The realization of how cruel, how unfair it would be to imprison the ghost in front of him again.
And now… said ghost was watching a carton of eggs under heat lamps. Around him, small children pressed curious palms to the glass.
Danny had decided not to lock Phantom up again. He’d chosen to give ‘Dan’ a second chance. He’d agreed to Vlad’s plan to help the other ghost. And he desperately hoped, desperately wanted to believe it was for the best. But…
“Mommy! Chicky!” A little girl enthusiastically pointed at one egg sporting a tiny hole.
But… Danny certainly didn’t want to hang out with his counterpart. He remembered…. The graves, the rubble, the crazed laughter. The nightmares he’d had for months after seeing that ruined future. The twisted bodies, his own hands covered in blood, the world aflame.
And now, the author of that ruin was here. And frankly, Danny didn’t trust him. Of course he didn't. And here in public, around so many children…. The thought was making his stomach turn.
A finger gently tapped the glass of the incubator. Danny tensed, carefully eyeing the other half ghost. Power swirled in his core, ready to intervene if necessary.
“There you go.” The words were almost so low to be inaudible, spoken toward the glass, to the hatching egg.
Danny’s energy stilled even so slightly. He watched his counterpart, head tilted.
Phantom just stood there, watching. “Good job, little guy.” Something sparked in his eyes. Just the subtlest wrinkle of his brow, the twitch of his lips….
The other half ghost felt something in his loosen. Hardly even realizing it, he let out the breath he’d been holding.
Suddenly, the other’s head turned sharply. “What are you looking at?”
Just like that, the moment broke. Innocently, Danny raised his hands. “What’s next?”
Phantom huffed, eyes narrowed. He whipped out the map, studying it again. “Pig races.” He answered curtly, turning and walking away without a look back. Of course, Danny followed.
Phantom demanded they find some pig races to watch, and they did. A short walk found the two at the sawdust covered track. Metal bleachers surrounded the arena, crowded with people. Tired parents with strollers, carrying bags of cotton candy and huge stuffed animals. An old couple, the husband in a trucker hat, the wife carrying an oversized bag. A few twenty somethings, scandalously eating pork barbeque in front of the pigs.
The two half ghosts managed a seat on the end of the bench, beside a little boy wearing a tiny plastic pig nose and vibrating with excitement.
“When are the piggys gonna race, Daddy?” The child bothered his father, who patiently showed him the time again.
“One more minute.” The man ruffled his son’s hair.
Just then, the sound of a trumpet sounded. The announcer swaggered into the center. “It’s Pig Racin’ Time!” The southern accent came on long and thick. “Good morning and welcome pig racing fans to the Hogway Speedway…”
With wide spread arms and charming enthusiasm, their host masterfully engaged the crowd. He introduced the racers, hogs punnifuly named after different Nascar drivers. The trumpet sounded again, the crowd shouting the name of their section’s chosen racer. And the pigs were off.
Danny watched his counterpart much more than the sprinting pigs. Phantom’s eyes followed the track, lips pressed closed and even. The expression was strange; it wasn’t that ‘Dan’ didn’t want to be there. It was like he was unsure…
“Hamica!” The little boy sitting to Phantom’s side shouted above the crowd. “Go Hamica!” The child jumped out of his seat.
The sound swelled, the cheering and stomping shaking the benches. The little boy hopped up and down, small body carelessly slamming into Phantom in his excitement.
For just a moment, Danny’s breath caught again. Then….
“Number 10! Hamica Patrick wins!” The announcer shouted while the pigs gobbled up their prize of cheese doodles.
“Our piggy won!” The little boy clapped. “She won! Did you see?” He turned to Phantom, starry eyes blind to the halfa’s tense posture.
Wait. Why was the other half ghost tense?
The child continued. “She won! Everyone was cheering so loud and our piggy won.”
“Yeah…” Phantom finally answered quietly, giving an almost sad shrug.
With that, the boy lowered his raised hands. “You weren’t cheering.” Lips pursed seriously; maybe he was picking up on the seeming-teen’s odd mode. “You havta cheer next race. Everyone's supposed ta cheer!”
Meanwhile the boy’s father was giving apologetic looks, trying to get his son’s attention back to the race. “The duck’s are going next. Don’t you want to see?”
The boy pointed at ‘Dan’ demandingly. “You havta cheer.”
“Alright, Alright.” Phantom put up his hands and… he smiled. “I’ll cheer.”
Again, Danny felt like he was looking at an alternate reality. His counterpart was smiling. Not malicious or teasing. Nor mocking or crazed but…
“I’ll cheer. But…” That genuine smile cracked brighter. “You have to cheer even louder. So loud everyone’s eardrums bleed.”
Well… he was being a little macabre. But the little boy was laughing brightly all the same.
And Phantom kept his word. “Oinkheart! You better run!” He did cheer, as loud and enthusiastic as any other pig racing fan.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Danny’s own even lips cracked into a smile. He cheered too, just as loud as Phantom.
The pigs races finished, the host announcing the next show while selling plastic pig noses and pooping pig keychains to the parents of excitable kids. Then a quick trip to the ATM and Phantom pulled Danny towards the fair games.
“That one.” The black clad ghost’s eyes fixed on a wall of balloons. Various prizes including a five feet long stuffed shark hung from the stall.
Phantom handed over a few bills. He fingered the darts, carefully aiming with furrowed brow. He threw, the projectile sailing straight for its target. “Yes!” He cheered, only for the dart to harmlessly hit the balloon and fall.
Danny frowned suspiciously, unintentionally mirroring the other half ghost. Still both said nothing. Instead, Phantom just threw the rest of his darts. One by one, each failed to pop a balloon.
“Come on.” Danny shook his head knowingly. “Let’s try another game.” Trust that the first one they try would be rigged.
“No.” Phantom grumbled, giving the attendant a few more bills. “I’m going to get it.”
Again, the seeming-teen carefully tested the aim of the dart, fixed on his target. Then… his gaze shifted for just a second, fixing on the other half ghost. His eyes flashed red, a purposeful smirk in them. Danny's brows furrowed in question.
The dart flew through the air, again harmlessly bouncing off the balloon and falling. Except this time, a second later the rubber sphere popped with a startling bang.
Danny flinched, shocked. For just a moment, a misty person-shaped outline wavered in front of the wall, a long clawed finger outstretched toward the balloon’s carcass.
Phantom smirked, self satisfied. Then his knees buckled.
Before he could register, Danny’s arms were wrapping around his counterpart’s shoulders, stabilizing the other half ghost.
“Is he okay?” The attendant asked, eyes wide with concern.
Was Phantom okay? He frowned down at the pale, shaky figure. His stomach flopped, feeling unbalanced. What was happening?
Danny shook the unease away. “He’s fine. Just needs something to drink.”
The fair worker still looked worried, brows furrowed, but didn’t argue as Danny started pulling Phantom away.
“Wait. I won.” The other complained. “My shark.”
Danny gave him a dubious look but without a word, accepted the giant plushie from the worker. Holding the shark under one arm, he helped Phantom forward with the other. True to his excuse, he did steer them towards a truck selling lemonade. The two slid to the window, Danny handing over the money.
“I can stand by myself.” Phantom grumbled, just as the server handed over the two cups.
Unceremoniously, Danny unhanded his counterpart who ripped the shark from his grip.
For a few minutes, the two silently shuffled forward, finally finding an empty bench. They sat, drinking their drinks. Phantom wouldn’t meet his eyes, head fixed down, almost as if embarrassed.
Finally, Danny broke the tense moment. “What was that about?”
The other seeming-teen looked up tentatively, almost sheepish, before shrugging forcibly casual. “I said I wanted to win at some carnival games. Don’t give me shit about it.”
Danny shook his head. “No. You almost fainted. Because you were, what, using a duplicate to cheat at balloon darts?”
“It’s not a big deal.” ‘Dan’ made a point of looking at his fingernails. “Just over did it. Stupid… I need to be more strategic next time.”
“Or just.. Not use your powers to cheat?”
Phantom’s eyes narrowed. “I said not to give me crap.” His arms crossed, the perfect picture of a petulant teen. “It’s not like I started melting this time.”
Danny’s eyes popped wide. “That doesn’t make it any better!”
“Like you give a shit.” The other halfa sneered. “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague. I’m stuck here, shoved in this tiny, scrawny body. With all the hormones and the acne and my powers barely working. It’s like I actually am a kid again. The fruitloop keeps trying to act like he’s my dad now, making me go to therapy and shit.” His hands waved, pointing at Danny. “And you’re off, doing god knows what, playing the hero. Trying to completely forget about me.”
Danny’s mind spun, trying to process the onslaught. That last part… “Wait, that’s not-”
“This was a mistake.” Phantom stood abruptly. “I see how you keep tensing up whenever I do anything. Like I’m five seconds away from ripping everyone’s head off.” He grabbed his lemonade and stuffed shark. “I don’t know why I even bothered. I wanted to tell you, show you that I was-.” He growled, cutting himself off. “Go do what you want.” The half ghost turned, stomping off.
For a long second, Danny just stared after him, thoughts churning. The other’s figure grew farther and farther away. Then…
“Wait!” Danny’s mind clicked back into action. “Wait!” He jumped up, running after his counterpart. “Dan! Wait!”
Within seconds, he caught up. “Dan.” And wasn’t that strange, using the name the other half ghost had given him for the first time. Danny shook away the thought. “Dan. I’m… I’m sorry.”
Phantom… Dan stopped walking, giving him a dubious look. “Yeah right.”
“No, I am sorry. You showed up at my house and dragged me here because you actually want to hang out with me, right?”
Dan didn’t respond verbally, just gave the ‘you’re stupid’ look again.
Danny didn’t let that cow him, instead forcing himself to continue. “You’re… you’re right, I have been ignoring you. And that’s not fair. I can’t even imagine why you want to spend time with me but…” The flickers of hurt in Dan’s face, the tension like… he was afraid of miss-stepping. Reasons churned in his head, nebulous and indistinct but so close to focus. His guts twisted; he wasn’t ready to face this, whatever this was.
“But you do.” Danny continued. “And we’re here. So let’s buy some greasy food, ride some rides, and play more games. But no more cheating.” He pointed severely.
For just a moment, Dan’s hard expression softened, visibly letting out a breath. “Alright.” Then his eyes rolled, pointing back. “And yes more cheating.” The corner of his lip turned up. “I know for a fact you cheated at the spring carnival to get that stuffed bat for Sam.”
Danny stumbled over a response. That was true but…
“It’s not going to kill anyone.”
Again Danny felt like he was hit in the head. The understanding, almost compassionate look Dan gave him…. It somehow wasn’t a joke.
Danny couldn’t help but notice his stomach drop. Still, he rolled his own eyes. “I guess it won’t hurt.”
With that, the two went off to find more games.
“How about this one?” Danny motioned to one stall, a line of water guns set up opposite a line of moving targets.
Dan raised an appraising eyebrow. “How am I supposed to cheat at that?” He muttered.
The teen gave him a light elbow jab in response. “I’m sure you can figure it out.” His voice lowered conspiratorially. “Plus it’s Vlad’s money. Who cares how much we waste?”
Dan looked almost surprised. “You have a point.”
The pair bought two seats. They played several rounds, not winning once.
“Come on!” Danny put up his hands. “It’s like half an inch away!” The dolphin-shaped racing marker smiled down mockingly, barely failing to reach the finish line.
The fair worker shrugged helplessly. “So close but so far. I’m sure you’ll get it next time.”
Danny’s eyes narrowed. Oh yeah, next time for sure. Then again… if they gave it another go, maybe?
“I’m bored with this.” Dan interrupted his debating, pulling him off his seat by the back of his collar. “Oh. Those headphones look sweet.”
He marched up to a set of basketball hoops, set up fair behind a metal barrier. Sure enough, a pair of sleek black over-the-headphones hung from the side.
“I see you eyeing these beauties.” The host’s voice projected. “Real Beats, would you believe it? Three shots to win them. Three in a row! Are you up to the challenge?”
Dan’s eyes narrowed, wickedly smug. “Of course, I am.”
The black-clad halfa handed over the money, receiving a ball. He stood in front of the line, lining up the shot. Again, his eyes flashed ever so subtly. And he threw. The ball sailed through the air. It bounced off the backboard. Then its edge hit the hoop and it wobbled, starting to fall out.
Danny’s shoulders fell, disappointed at the near shot.
Then, impossibly, the ball wobbled the other direction, falling neatly into the hoop.
Danny’s mouth fell open. How was that possible?
The game’s host looked just as shocked for a moment. Then, schooling himself, he collected the ball. “Lucky shot.” He handed it back to Dan, who just wordlessly smirked.
The dark-clothed halfa lopped his second shot, then his third. Each landed perfectly. Suspiciously perfectly.
“That’s three for the three.” The fair worker looked somewhere between stunned and suspicious. Still, he handed the headphones over.
Dan accepted the prize with a grin. “I guess I’m just lucky.” He had the audacity to shrugged casually, the movement in sharp contrast to the smugness radiating off of him.
Danny didn’t have it in him to begrudge the other half ghost his success though. The two walked off, in search of another game.
They’d walked for about a minute, out of sight of the basketball stall and Danny couldn’t keep his surprise in anymore. “How did you do that?” He asked, almost awed.
“Just simple telekinesis.” This time, Dan’s shrug was legitimately casual.
“Telekinesis? But…”
“Wait.” The seeming-teen stopped in his tracks, seeming to pick up on the other’s stunned confusion. “You can’t do telekinesis yet? How?” He turned to look at Danny, a mirror of his own confusion. “That’s as easy as breathing. How…” He chuckled. “How don’t you have that power yet?”
“Well, excuse me.” Danny frowned, hands on his hips; he didn’t appreciate being laughed at. “Not all of us have Plasmius’ powers and expertise downloaded right into our head.”
“What? No.” Somehow, Dan sounded even more stunned. “That’s not… Even if that was how that worked…” He looked almost… queasy saying the words. “Plasmius doesn’t have telekinesis.”
“But… yes he does.” Danny tried to argue. Vlad had definitely fought him with telekinesis before. Right?
“He can’t move things with his mind.” The other half ghost shook his head vehemently. “He’s never been able to. Not even now. I’ve tried to explain it a bunch of times.” He pointed severely. “And not out of the goodness of my heart. He wouldn’t stop annoying the shit out of me about how to do it…. And Vlad can’t do it.”
Danny blinked once, twice. “And… you’re serious. You’re not messing with me?”
“Not about this.” Dan rolled his eyes. With a quick look around, they flickered red again. An aura seeped out of his hands, surrounding the newly won headphones. “This telekinesis is one hundred percent Phantom.” The prize hovered off his palm ever so slightly, bathed in green light.
The other half ghost studied the floating object. It was an impressive show, even more shocking that Vlad apparently couldn’t do it while Dan could so easily. Speaking of easily… Danny raised a brow, teasingly. “Maybe not one hundred percent Phantom. Since you’re not the only one, what with, Box Ghost, Lunch Lady, Technus-”
“Shut up.” Dan elbowed him, surprisingly gently, not a hint of malice in the words. “And I guess we’re not the only ones.”
Danny blinked once, surprised for just a moment. Then… “Oh right. I guess I’ll be able to do that at some point.”
Dan shrugged, the light around the headphones winking out as he caught them. “Want me to teach you?”
“Really?” The other half ghost asked, skeptical.
“Somehow you haven’t figured it out yet.” The other snarked back. Was he… blushing? “And how else are you supposed to cheat at fair games?”
For just a second there was the impulse to snark back; he still didn’t really want to cheat. But Dan was offering, authentically offering to teach him something. And Danny had said he was going to actually give this hanging out thing a shot
“Sure. I’d love it if you showed me how to do it.” Danny said, surprised at his own sincerity.
Dan gave a nod. “Come on then.” He pulled the teen along, searching for an at least somewhat secluded place. After nearly ten minutes of looking… “This will do.”
They wedged between two stalls, the busy sound of fair goers waiting for food and workers calling out orders at their backs. The alley smelt of roasted turkey, cotton candy, and the sour tang of throw up. The perfect place for an impromptu lesson.
“That’s going to be your target.” Dan pointed to an abandoned beer bottle. “First…”
After about ten minutes of unsuccessfully getting his younger counterpart to understand, Dan looked just about ready to pull out his hair. “No. You have to reach out. Like the power’s an extension of you.”
“Sorry, but that doesn’t make any sense.” Danny also wanted to pull out his hair.
“Okay, fine. Here. Let’s try this.” Dan grabbed his hand and-
“The fuck!” Danny just about screamed as his counterpart’s hand phased inside his. “What…” He panted, panic suddenly clawing at his throat. “Are you doing?!”
“Bad idea.” Dan was also panting, eyes blown wide. “Bad idea. Too late now.” He pinched red-flickering eyes closed. “We’re like three steps away from being the same person. I should be able to tell your core exactly what to do.”
“Okay?!” Still, Danny’s heart pounded, mind racing back. Dan’s hand, in chest. The solid gear clicking into place. Belittling laughter.
“I’m not…” Dan growled. “That’s not me anymore. I won’t hurt you.”
That was ridiculous. This was crazy. Why did he even agree to doing this? Any of this? Hanging out with Dan, learning from him? Just letting him wander around free?! Why did he trust him? He tried to trust him and this-
Like cold water rushing over him, heavy bricks falling. An immaterial wall shattered. Emotions flooded in. Pain, fear, guilt, regret. But not… not his.
Danny struggled to force his eyes open. When had he closed them?
Dan’s eyes, the same as his own, half a foot from his. They rounded, sincere, desperate. “I’m sorry. Just let me help….”
An exhale. There was a line that had been a solid wall. There was Danny and there was Dan. And Danny could see, he could feel over the line, into his counterpart’s self. The anger, the prickliness, the spite, the smugness. It was all a cover. A pathetic cover over the guilt, the fear, the regret, the pain.
A small, tentative nudge at his own core. Comfort, reassurance. He was out of practice.
Danny looked away, at his right hand. The one uncannily possessed. His stomach lurched violently. “Do whatever it is you were going to do.”
“I’m trying!” Dan grit his teeth. “Stop fighting.”
Stop fighting? How was he supposed to-
A hand wrapped around his core, not crushing but… comfortably warm. Behind his eyes…
Rain dripping down the windows, the world dark and gray. A huge, canopied bed. At his bedside, a picture of his family, the glass shattered.
“Danny?” A voice far away. “Danny?” He couldn’t will his head to lift, not after-
“Danny?” The boy blinked and he was back in that smelly alley. Fingers snapped in front of his face. “Pay attention.” Eyes focused on… Dan. Right.
Wordlessly, Danny nodded.
“Let’s get this over with.” His counterpart shook his head. His brow furrowed in concentration. And Danny felt his own core act.
Energy swirled around, flowing down to his fingertips and passed them. It stretched, ghostly fingers brushing the bottle. Then, as easy as moving his physical fingers, they wrapped around the target. The object lifted, eerily floating above the dirty ground. Gently it moved side and side of Dan’s volition. With hardly a shared thought, the black-clade half ghost gave over control. Roughly, Danny grabbed the bottle, setting it spinning in the air.
“Wow.” Danny gave a laugh. “Why didn’t you just say that?”
The other halfa rolled his eyes. “Try moving two things at once.”
The shared hand flexed, Dan guiding the movement while Danny acted. His telekinesis reached out, enwrapping a small pebble. It lifted, dipped, and spun.
At the same time, the bottle dropped. Reaching out with his other physical hand, Danny felt his power stretch. He let out a sigh of relief, catching the object.
For a few more minutes, Danny flexed his new power. His aura wrapped around handfuls of trash, the pieces bobbing in the air. They spun around the pair. First slowly, then faster and faster. Like dirty little moons circling a planet.
Slowly, a smile grew on Danny’s face. He was actually doing this! His eyes twinkled playfully, suddenly dropping all the trash.
“What? Already tired?” Dan asked.
The other half ghost didn’t dignify the question. Instead, he jerkily pulled the shark into the air. He sent it in a slow circle around them. Closer and closer, all the while humming.
“Is that the Jaws theme-”
Danny rammed the shark into his counterpart’s side.
The plush snoot had Dan bending forward dramatically. His eyes narrowed. And Danny’s smile disappeared. Maybe that had been a step too far; he was getting too comfortable. Then…
Dan rolled his eyes. “Oh, you can effectively attack me with plushies. Color me impressed.” The words came out thick with sarcasm, not the least bit amused. But underneath…
A feeling like subdued laughter brushed Danny’s core.
The smile wavered back into place. “You say that all serious but…” Just hint of a smirk. “You thought that was hilarious.”
“I did not.” Dan tried to deny. But standing side by side, core open to Danny’s prodding, he had no leg to stand on. “It’s this stupid teenage brain.” He lifted a hand pleadingly. “The meat suit thinks the dumbest things are funny. I’m…I’m a big scary grown up ghost, I swear!”
He sounded so desperate, it was almost funny. Danny struggled not to laugh. “Sure you are.”
For a moment more, Dan pouted, eyes trying to argue his point. Then… he huffed. “Fine. It was funny.”
Effortlessly, he pulled his incorporeal hand out of Danny’s. The other half ghost shivered, feeling oddly bare as the background nose of Dan’s emotions faded away.
Across from him, Dan’s arms were crossed, eyes fixed down.
Danny’s brow furrowed. What exactly was Dan’s deal? Flip flopping between emotions. He was snarking and joking one minute and then the next, clamming up and serious. He wanted to be having fun, and then admitting that he was enjoying himself the worst possible thing ever. Part of Danny was at a loss, at his wit’s end. How was he supposed to deal with this?
But another part… the glimpses he caught from the other’s core. The anger and harshness, covering all that pain and guilt and grief. That made sense. How many times had Danny himself put on a brave face while he was hurting?
There was another layer though. Uncertainty, insecurity, loneliness.
So much there and Danny had no idea where to start, what he could say to help, to make it better.
So he offered what comfort he could. “It’s okay if you thought it was funny, you know. It doesn’t mean you’re any less badass or terrifying or whatever.” He shrugged. “Plus, we’re here to have fun. Let yourself actually enjoy it.”
The other half ghost’s shoulders loosened. He looked up and… for a long moment, there was something heavy and serious in his eyes. His mouth opened and closed, chewing on the thought. Then….
“Al… alright then. Let’s go have some fun.” Dan finally said, seemingly letting the heavy words go, for now at least.
“Yeah.” Danny gave him a hearty pat on the back. “I saw one of those milk bottle toss games with a bunch of giant plushies. Wanna play that?”
“Sure.” Dan shrugged. Then pointedly. “And I expect you to use our lesson.”
“Of course.” Danny replied airly. “Can’t have you shoving your hand intangibly into me for nothing.”
“Again, I blame the teenage brain. You get forcibly de-aged and all the common sense goes out the window.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Danny waved him off. “You don’t see me complaining.”
“You haven’t been de-aged before, have you?” Dan raised a brow.
“Well no, but…” He trailed off, at a loss for a response to the seeming-teen. Or rather, just teen. The thought almost knocked him off his feet…. Dan actually was his age again, wasn’t he?
“Thought so.” The other teen snorted, ignoring the odd look. Then pointing. “There’s your milk bottle toss.” He blinked. “What the hell is that?”
Danny’s brow furrowed, just as confused at the ambiguous giant stuffed animal. “A cat? Racoon? Maybe a red panda, except… you know, green?”
Dan rubbed his chin, deadpan serious. “Ah, the famed green cacooanda. Of course.”
That earned an appreciative snort from the other half ghost. “Nice.”
Despite his earlier sarcasm and resistance, Danny fully intended to use what Dan had taught him. A few telekinesis assisted ring tosses and he was walking away from the stand with his own green cacooanda.
“I can’t believe it.” Dan said, dubious. “You actually did it.” He gave a scoff, his typical haughtiness as present as ever. But a twinkle in the corner of his eye…. Dan not-so-secretly looked proud.
More games followed. Wack-a-mole. Skee-Ball. The Shooting Gallery. Darts. Ring the Bell. Even Duck Pond and Bingo. The pair hit up every one, until all the game hosts eyed the two suspiciously, muttering about calling security, much to Dan’s amusement.
“That was satisfying.” The black-clade teen smirked, carrying his collection of cheating-won spoils. “How ya feel about getting burgers?”
“Yeah.” Danny nodded. His eyes nervously flittered over the booth, still wary of being caught cheating. But… he smiled down at his own pair of headphones and the stuffed bear he planned to give to Jazz; his stomach leapt, giddy at the thrill. Slowly, he grinned. “There’s a bunch of stalls set up by local charities and stuff near the South Gate. The food’s normally good and not that pricey.”
“Awesome.” Dan agreed with a nod.
They grabbed lunch, sitting at one of the picnic tables in front of the impromptu restaurants. Neither really talked. Not that Danny minded. That had been the pattern for most of the morning and early afternoon, conversation revolving around what game to play next, which prizes either had their eyes on.
Now, Dan chewed his burger, the corner of his lip subtly lifted. At the same time, his eyes flitted from stall to stall, drifting over the crowds of people. People watching. Just the smallest hint of awe and curiosity flickered in his eyes.
Danny watched all this, his own lips quirking slightly.
Next came the rides. After a quick discussion about what to do with their prizes – they really should have waited until after to play the games – and finding a place to phase them into the ground for later, the two hurried to the midway. So many options stretched in front of them, Dan’s eyes practically shining with excitement.
“We have to do the Gravitron first.” The black-clad teen pulled Danny through the crowds.
As they rounded the corner, the ride appeared before them. Danny could almost feel his eyes go heart-shaped. His heart picked up, airly giddy. It was shaped like a spaceship!
“Come on!” It was Danny’s turn to tug his counterpart onward.
With fastpass bracelets, the two boarded the ride. Back against the padded wall, the boy grinned as the lights started flashing and everything started spinning.
“Yeah! Woa!” People cheered and screamed as the ride rotated faster and faster.
Without even a belt to hold him in place, Danny’s back pressed against the wall, the weight of gravity overwhelming. Suddenly, the panels slid up, the lady to his right shouting in surprise. The boy’s feet rose off the floor, body held in place solely by the centrifugal force. He just shouted louder.
Far too soon, the ride slowed, the panels slotting back into place and feet returning to the floor. The spinning gradually stopped and the force of gravity lessened to its normal weight.
Danny’s ears rang slightly, balance wobbly and stomach churning; boy was he glad they hadn't pigged out on too much greasy food yet. Still, his heart pounded, a buzz with adrenaline. He grinned. “Let’s do that again!”
Ride again, they did. A second spin and then a third had Dan grinning with him, eager to try something else.
“The drop tower?” The teen pointed. And the pair was rushing off again.
The tilt-a-whirl. An upside down swinging Pirate Ship. The Round-up, the Gravitron’s almost vertically spinning cousin.
The two half ghosts took turns choosing which to ride next and excitedly pulling each other across the midway.
“What’s this one?” Danny pointed. “Music Express?”
“Looks kinda boring.” The other half ghost shrugged. “Let’s try it.”
The cars formed a circle, alternating flat and sloped sections making the track look lop-sided. The two picked a car, Dan sliding in first. Danny sat beside him, the metal bar over their laps locking them into place. Again, music started and they were off.
The circle of cars rotated, first slowly and evenly. Honestly, indeed a little boring. Then…
“What wants to go faster?!” The operator yelled into the microphone.
The riders screamed their agreement, the music speeding up. The cars spun faster. Laughter and shouts rang out; Danny’s screams joined the merry noise, caught up in the joy around him.
Then, he slammed into Dan, his shout choking. The spinning force pulled him towards the center and right into his car-mate. His hip and shoulder dug into the other teen, Dan’s own enthusiastic shouting cutting out. The black-clad teen’s mouth snapped shut, face going beat red in mortification.
“Your.. your face!” Danny burst out laughing, unable to keep the amusement in.
Dan just wordlessly shoved Danny’s face away.
The ride continued for a few more minutes, the rotation even reversing and sending the cars backwards. All the while, Danny laughed, a large part of him enjoying Dan’s discomfort.
Finally, the music slowed, movement trickling to a stop. The ride over, Danny exited first. He offered his hand to help his counterpart out.
“I guess this one’s on the no list, huh?” Danny asked, taking pity.
Dan took the offered hand. “Nah. I want to go again.”
“Oh?” The other teen blinked once, surprised.
“Yes. You’re sitting on the inside next time.” His teeth flashed mischievously.
“Guess I deserve that one.” Danny chuckled.
Sure enough, they rode again, this time Danny suffering through being crushed by his seat companion. Dan laughed somewhat evilly all the while, reveling in the discomfort just as much as Danny had earlier.
Bumper cars. Three different mini-coasters. A few turns on the Racing Slide. A surprisingly disorienting house of mirrors, followed by a ridiculously lame “haunted house.” Even the good old carousel and ferris wheel.
Conversation drifted, most trivial but some… almost serious.
The fairwheel ground to a stop, the pair hanging at the apex. “So… how does it work?” Danny asked, casually looking at his nails.
Dan gave him a suspicious look. “How does what work?”
“If you didn’t just download Vlad’s expertise…then how does it work?”
The other teen stiffened slightly, eyes fixed far away on the Amity Park skyline. “It’s mainly emotions. I mean, you and Vlad figured that out. Ghosts are made of emotions. And there’s… they’re not really memories, I guess. More like… the shape of them.” Slowly, the car started descending. “Like I watch football with Vlad… because he’s into it and won’t shut up about father-son bonding.” Dan narrowed his eyes pointedly. “And I find myself liking it.” He stuck out his tongue. “And the weird images of boring board rooms. And Maddie with long hair. It was so curly then, falling against her cheeks…” He grimaced. “Sometimes I really wish I hadn’t eaten Plasmius.”
The words were so blunt, so casual; Danny choked on air. Dan ignored his hacking. “I mean… I think I would have just faded away if I hadn’t so…” He shrugged.
Danny blinked at him. What was he supposed to say to that? A response did niggle at his mind though…and to his horror, the question slipped out. “What did he… taste like?”
“The grossest cheese ever.”
Danny and Dan enjoyed all the rides the fair had to offer, the afternoon gradually giving way to evening. The sun set, the warmth of the day becoming the chill of night. The lines grew longer, teens and young adults piling in to enjoy the bright lights and music. Still, the two were unbothered by the waits, thanks to their blessed fastpasses.
The night stretched on, every ride enjoyed to the two teens’ hearts’ content. And finally…
“The squirrel cages.” Dan spread his arms, practically beaming up at the towering mess of metal. “Saving the best for last.”
“Yes!” Danny’s stomach leapt, queasily excited.
They boarded one of the odd, apostrophe-shaped cars. The plush bench sat under them, metal bars and mesh cradling the two riders. The center, oblong frame creaked, beginning to spin. The car rose into the air, swinging.
The sound of more people being loaded onto the ride rang out below. Danny held his breath in anticipation. Any second now…
A sudden jolt of movement. Beside him, Dan gasped.
The center rotated, the cage swaying violently. Rising higher and higher in the air. Danny’s heart fluttered. They reached the top… A burst of speed and everything spun. Both boys screamed, the cage flipping end over end.
A flurry of movement, the world turning. The inky-black sky flashed into view, then the thousand glittering lights of the fair loomed below. The sky, the ground, the sky, the ground. The scene flickered. On and on.
Screams reverberated, terrified and elated. Weight shifted, the car turning and flipping. Danny’s heart pounded, his stomach in his throat.
Far too soon, the ride ended. Danny looked over at his counterpart, both’s eyes blown wide. “Go again?”
Dan nodded eagerly.
They rode again. And again. And again.
Head over heels, the world turned in flashes of light and dark. Danny’s ears rang, shouts and cheers filling his brain. His head swam. Pressed side by side with Dan, hands grasps to the bars over the door. His veins filled with more adrenaline than blood. In every molecule… terror, giddiness, elation.
The joy bubbled up, first in a smile. A grin. A shout. A laugh. The cackle burst out, unrestrained. Beside him, Dan’s guffaws rang in kind. The laughter filled his world, his mind. Dan’s laugh and his… they were the same laugh, but also so different. Chests and shoulders shook, the delight too much to hold.
The two half ghosts laughed and laughed and laughed.
They laughed until they couldn’t breathe. Until the ride stopped and both stumbled out of the car. Until Danny, one arm around the other’s shoulders, helped a green-faced, wobbling Dan past the ride operator and the line of waiting riders, and the other teen threw up on his shoes.
“Stupid clone body.” Dan complained without heat, whipping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“That’s just being human.” Danny laughed.
“Well, can my body not?” He rolled his eyes, the orbs still sparkling with mirth. “Eating and sleeping are great, really, but I could do without the ability to vomit.”
“Hey, you’re doing better than my first time. You lasted for more than one ride.” The other half ghost shrugged, the movement bringing his counterpart just the tiniest bit closer. “When we went to the fair when I was eleven, I was finally tall enough. I begged to ride. Jazz and Mom absolutely refused, the chickens. But Dad rode with me. It was the best thing ever. We flipped so many times.” His speech grew faster with his excitement. “I was so dizzy after. Stumbling around like I’d just drunk a six-pack. I wobbled up to Jazz, told her she was a chicken and missed the best ride ever and…” A snort burst forth, threatening to choke his words. “I threw up all over her! I’d eaten so much cotton candy before, it was bright blue! And little bits of popcorn and hotdogs.” Danny held his stomach with one arm. “You should have seen her face.” He giggled lost in the memory, in the lingering adrenaline rush.
Beside him, Dan shook his head in amusement. “I remember. I was there.”
“Yeah.” Danny laughed. “I guess you were… there.” He trailed off, the meaning finally hitting him. Eyes trailing over, to his counterpart’s face. Similar to his, not just because the human body was a clone, but… “I guess you were.”
Something shifted between the two, in that meeting of eyes. An unspoken understanding lingered. That heaviness that had flashed in Dan’s eyes, right after their lesson…. It leered, visible but not weighty.
“Come on.” Danny finally offered, smile gentle. “You wanted to eat a bunch of greasy food today. Think your stomach is up to it?”
“Of course.” The other flashed his teeth playfully.
The two weaved through the midway, away from crowded rides. They passed tens of food stalls, visiting at least a half dozen for all the staples. Cotton Candy, Kettle Corn, Candy Apples. They got the best ice cream from a local farm’s stand and incredible homemade pumpkin fudge. And so much fried food- a red-velvet funnel cake, corn dogs, fried pickles, bacon-wrapped fried Reeses’, and the famed, delectable fried oreos.
With their haul, they walked past the fairy-light lit garden displays, plants of all shapes and sizes swaying in the breeze. Clangs sounded from the old-fashioned blacksmith’s shop, curious onlookers’ faces lit by the fire light. A bluegrass band played on the lawn to ground-shaking stomps and cheers.
“This looks like a good spot.” Danny motioned.
They’d wandered to an empty spot on the grass, near the pond at the edge of the fairgrounds. Dan gave a nod, carefully putting down his portion of the food.
And so the two teens sat and ate. Lights flickered on the water. At their backs, music spun. Fiddle and mandolin sang, soft and slow in some kind of lullaby.
The quiet weighed but… not heavy, not oppressive. It encompassed, gentle and protective, like a blanket. Dan ate slowly, unhurried. His eyes drifted over the lake, gaze on the gentle lapping water. But his mind was elsewhere.
And Danny watched his companion. Not tense and distrusting as before but patient, ready to talk when Dan needed.
The lullaby ended to cheers. The sound petered out, the set ending. The murmurs of the crowd ebbed away.
The wind picked up, movement catching Danny’s eye. At the other side of the pond, the trees swayed. Needles and pine cones ruffled, falling to the water with tiny plops.
“Do you really think I’m terrifying?” Dan finally broke the silence.
Danny turned, eyes wide. Of all the questions to ask, he hadn’t been expecting that. “Why do you ask?” He swallowed, eyes darting away evasively.
“Earlier…you said having fun doesn’t make me any less terrifying or whatever. But that’s not…” Dan looked down, picking at his nails. “I don’t care about being scary. I don’t… I don’t wanna be like that. That’s not why… I don’t deserve… that’s not…” He stumbled over the words, finally gritting out. “Just answer the question.”
For just a second, Danny’s stomach twisted; his impulse was to lie. But… back in the alley, his core brushing Dan’s. A door opened between them. And… a door, once opened, may be walked through from either side.
He couldn’t lie, not about this.
Danny swallowed, nodding. “After I saw your future and the CAT and everything… I had so many nightmares. Mostly about you escaping.” The evil laughter, terror on his friend’s faces, Amity Park in rubble. He’d wake up sweating, heart pounding and ecto-blast in hand. Ready to defend. Now… his mouth felt dry, an odd feeling squeezing his core. “Those went on for months.”
“And then it happened.” Dan’s knees pulled his chest, eyes wide, haunted, and… guilty.
Numbly, Danny nodded. It had. He remembered; the rubble, the cries for help, the flames. He shivered. That reality had been erased. Clockwork fixed the timeline, like he had the first time. But it still happened. The monster from his nightmares returned, more powerful and dangerous than ever. And now….
His eyes focused. On the boy sitting across from him. That monster was here and… he wasn’t a monster at all.
And that was the hardest part. The Phantom as evil incarnate. As a twisted, unfeeling abomination. That was easy. But this Phantom? This oddly human reflection….
“I’m sorry.” Danny found himself saying.
Dan looked up at that, blinking at him startledly. “Why the hell are you sorry?”
In a less somber setting, he might have laughed but now, Danny just shook his head. “After the CAT, I kept telling myself that I promised I’d never be like…like you.” The odd feeling squeezed again, something like guilt. “I’d never let that happen. Because… because I promised.” His head fixed down, gnawing on his lip. “Because I was stronger. I knew better now. I was better. I was… I was different somehow. But that’s… that’s a lie.” He forced his gaze back up, focused on the wide-eyed boy in front of him. “We’re… three steps from being the same person. If things had been different…”
The rain, the bed, the shattered picture frame…. That terrible scene from Dan’s memory. It was so easy to imagine that as his reality. Losing everything, his life destroyed… A twist of fate and their places could have been swapped.
“So… I’m sorry. I’m sorry that happened to you. I’m sorry that you lost everything and that you’re stuck here. And having to deal with being 16 again and Vlad thinking he’s your dad. And…” Danny wrung his hands. “I’m sorry that I forgot…”
After the fight, when he’d thrown down the thermos, he’d realized, he’d seen it. That Phantom was hurting, in pain. That he was still just a grieving kid. But in the months since, he’d lost sight of that. “I’m sorry that I forgot you’re a person too. I forgot who you really are.”
Dan stared at him for a long moment, brow wrinkled. His mouth opened and closed a few times. Then… “You are so stupid.” Somehow, no heat was in the words. “I’m the one who’s supposed to be saying sorry. I’m supposed to be groveling, on my knees, begging. I…I destroyed the world, Danny.” His voice started to tremble. “I killed so many people. Maimed so many ghosts. Tried to kill Valerie, my only friend, so many times. I…I tried to kill Mom and Dad.” His eyes shone, taking on a glassy sheen. “Jazz, Sam and Tucker. I tried to kill all of them twice. Twice. And…” His face paled, almost queasy. “I am horrified. I am disgusted. I… It makes me sick. I hate… I hate what I did. I hate who I was. And…” Finally, tears started falling. “I don’t deserve any… any of this. I definitely don’t deserve you saying sorry to me. You… you idiot. You’re too good for your own good. And I’m… I’m just…”
Dan stuttered to a stop, words choking as he furiously whipped at his face.
And it was Danny’s turn to stare stunned. What could he say to that? Nothing was good enough. Nothing would ever be good enough. By all accounts, Dan had done horrible things, unforgivable things. Danny had every reason to still hate and fear him. No reason at all to offer forgiveness or sympathy. But…
The empathy was there, twisting Danny’s heart into knots. Somehow, he understood. Far too well.
“Do you want a hug?” The question slipped out before Danny really considered it.
Dan, apparently completely stunned, nodded immediately.
What he’d asked hit Danny just as the response came. For a moment, he mentally berated himself; what a stupid thing to ask. Dan didn’t actually want a hug. And what was he doing trying to comfort his formerly evil, formerly older alternative self? But then again…
Danny’s resolve crumbled. He leaned over, wrapping his arms around Dan’s shoulders.
The breath-hitching sob caught Danny off guard. Dan letting his walls crumble in front of him had been unbelievable just this morning. But after the rides and games, sharing quips and food and heart-felt truths…. Now it all made sense.
The pair sat for a long time, Danny hugging his counterpart. Dan’s shoulders shook, hands balled in the back of his jacket. Tears wet his shirt. And the only sounds were his own heartbeat, Dan’s pounding right next to his. And the dark-clad teen’s soft cries.
Gradually though, the tears slowed. The sobs quieted. The shaking stopped. Breathing slowed and evened.
Taking a deep breath, Dan pulled away. “I… Sorry.” His face burned red, embarrassed. “That isn’t… I didn’t want to break down on you.”
“It’s okay.” Danny shook his head. “Maybe it didn’t go how you wanted. But this is why you wanted to hang out with me, right? To apologize, getting everything out in the open.”
The other half ghost nodded. “And show you that I’m…I’m different.” He wiped his eyes. “I’m trying to be better.”
“I can see that.” The skin around his eyes crinkled, dawning smile genuine.
And Danny meant it. In a dozen little ways today, he’d witnessed it. This Dan was a far cry from the Phantom he’d fought all those months ago.
“I’m glad to hear that.” Dan gave a watery smile.
Just then, a loud boom cut that air. Lights flashed in the sky. Fireworks above the pond.
“Look at that.” Dan’s eyes widened, voice breathlessly awed.
The two sat, side by side watching the fireworks. Sparks danced across the sky, spheres and swirls and spirals of every color.
And Danny could never have been happier he opened that door and let Dan drag him here. He didn’t know what the future held for them, where exactly his and Dan’s relationship stood; were they friends now? Family? But…
“Cotton Candy?” His counterpart offered, holding open the bag.
“Sure.” Danny nodded, taking the last handful.
There had been tears and apologies. A release of tension and fear and bitterness. New discoveries made and old similarities uncovered.
Danny tore the piece of floss in half, giving Dan back the other piece.
And most importantly, the incredible chance to start again.
Dan accepted with a nod and a smile. “Thanks. For everything.”
Reconciliation was indeed sweet.
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Hey, I binged read your cubscar(ian) hotguy au
And I LOVED it,
Cub's characterization is so precious, he's so autistic to me (I'm autistic so I kin heavily) the way you write him, chef's kiss and all that. Is Cub Demi? xx
Scar is so strong and yet so broken but he doesn't know it yet, I'm so glad he's in therapy now <3. I love that you wrote him this way, he's disabled (just like me) but he's not a child, he's whimsy but so life smart, I value so much when authors write him like this and his plurality is very relatable <3. And his friendship with Mumbo <3
Grian, well he's just so real, his need for a job ever tho Cub was happy looking out for him <3, his friendship just reconnecting with Mumbo so easily, warmth. I love how self aware he is, and the angst you wrote for him is heart strings shattering I loved.
Cub and Grian's relationship ahhhhh yessss. The commitment and devotion, how they are so connected they didn't notice it sliding from platonic to romantic. This just IS for me.
Cub and Scar, well (yes again 🤣) they are so sweet, and Cub holds 51% of the cards lol but Scar's 49% is really doing things for Cub wink wink. Some of the reasoning behind Cub's love is being loved. And Scar loving him because of his round edges and softness 🥹
Scar and Grian. I hope the flowers he got for them were poppies and lilacs /lh /nf; Scar's fear because of his sharp edges, Scar in other works has his weakness but he can always find in in himself to want to protect Grian almost as a superior?, but you write Scar so vulnerable and equal to Grian. They are enemies to frenemies to ... But really it's caused by the lack of knowing, eachother and their personal experiences. Again Scar and his plural view of people <3 I think Grian thought of Scar as stronger emotionally, physically, mentally then Scar ever was, and Grian used him because of this misconception. I'm glad they're getting there, truly. Did Grian feel dejected? when Scar didn't help with his wings? Angst <3
thank you!!! Cub could be Demi. So could Grian! They can be whatever your heart desires. Personally I don’t care to label any of them because it isn’t very important to me. I do think Cub would refer to both Scar and Grian has his friends even after years of being together and it drives Scar absolutely nuts. Why are you doing that. What do you Mean. Cub it’s been twenty years you can introduce me as your boyfriend I Promise no one here is going to judge you and cub just goes: ? oh right. and then he never does that. the word friend just comes easier. it’s cozy.
It’s very silly to me you pointed out scar’s friendship with Mumbo because they are not friends scar is Coping. /silly. I actually forget very often I write a lot of angst of these characters because that’s just not really how my brain categorizes turmoil. It’s always a jumpscare to see it pointed out /light hearted, joking. funniest instance of this happening 🔽
(from chapter two of the Jimmy decked out fic)
I was on call with a friend while reading this for the first time and for the life of me I Could Not think of what /nf meant and he didn’t know either so we came up with some ideas: NOT FUNNY. no fingers. non fungible. nut fart. NO FUN. no friends. Nice feet. never forget. nice flowers. new friend! NOT FAIR
it means not forced. we had to look it up LMAO /silly silly silly. thank you for the laughs
Grian thought of scar as a piece of shit self absorbed celebrity and this is true however it’s not everything. inside is a deeply, deeply, extremely deeply, unimaginably kicked puppy. he’s sad and pathetic and has big wet eyes. also he cares.
Grian wasn’t too affected by Scar’s not wanting to touch his wings, and in general the experience was a little more overwhelmingly confusing? Neither he nor Cub expected him to have such a strong reaction, especially when things between all three of them are getting better, but Scar is still carrying the weight of a lot of Grian’s poor treatment of him for weeks on end, and even though Scar’s forgiven him and understands where he was coming from, those aren’t things you can just brush off, especially when many of Grian’s gestures (good and bad) are sweeping and intense and unpredictable, and people pleasing for someone as unstable as that (less so now, but before it was bad) is Extremely Stressful. dealing with cuteguy (evil version) for months beforehand Did Not Help. there’s a reason Scar views Grian as Sharp and that’s because they have both beat the piss out of each other hundreds of times.
To a point Grian is aware of this. It’s a thing he’s discussed in therapy a thousand times, and something he had to confront directly with Jimmy. In his eyes, his friendship with Scar (despite blunders on both sides) is an act of Scar’s good will towards him as given with Scar’s forgiveness, and if Scar is having problems, then it’s not really something Grian can hold against him. Obviously that doesn’t stop feelings from being hurt, but this was more a result of The Panic Attack than the wing touching refusal. Which Grian dealt with by Pushing Minigolf Pushing Pushing Pushing Pushing. Grian’s reaction to guilt and/or rejection is I NEED TO MAKE UP FOR THIS RIGHT MEOW!!!!! and in doing so often fails miserably to read the room, which is why Cub steps in in that particular instance.
as far as wings though, if I were Grian, scar would be The Last Person I want touching them. Clumsiest motherfucker alive who in the case of this au, tends to be rougher with his affection because he literally can not tell what is too little or too much. Having someone nervous at your back probably isn’t a great feeling either, and for an activity that’s supposed to be relaxing, Cub brings a Much steadier aura. Cub also has the capacity to focus. Scar would probably need at least three other sources of stimulation to do a good job. And it would still hurt. Regular wing grooming is not supposed to hurt 💔
my rambling service comes free, well, perhaps at a small cost of a seemingly benign question. normal about her ocs frozenjokes back at it again
#hermitcraft#gtws#grian#cubfan135#goodtimeswithscar#hermitshipping#asks#cubscarian#desert duo#convexian#grub#cubrian
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Hero
found u on AO3 and loved u immediately, your writing style is incredible and i’ve binged all your stories :) crack request popped into my mind the other day and i thought i’d share—> the pinocchio phenomenon about “my nose will grow” (i’m sure you’re familiar) except for its the sides (prob logan bc experiment) trying it on janus- “janus will be summoned” or something to that effect idk ily please never stop writing <3 – bumblebea2712
Okay, so I've been thinking about something for a while. In your fic, Silver Box, where Roman has that box labeled 'Ego' with all the positive reinforcement in it? What if one of the things that gets whispered from it is when c!Thomas told Roman "you're my hero"? Like, especially with the angst from POF/SvS Redux. Thinking about how Roman misinterpret Janus' nod as 'Thomas is lying' when he actually meant that Thomas was still the truth when calling Roman his hero again. I wanna see Janus trying to correct him and be like "that nod meant he was telling the truth, he still thinks of you as his hero, he still cares about you", etc. Just some Roman, Janus, and c!Thomas angst all bundled up with hurt/comfort. I have THOUGHTS, and so I wanted to share :3 – oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat
If you're up to requests rn, could we have a Sanders Sides fic where Thomas himself is actually present maybe? – anon
Hey, would you be interested in perhaps writing a story where Logan assumes Roman is stupid because he isn’t articulate, and one day Roman has enough and is trying so hard to explain to Logan why he’s wrong but he doesn’t know the right way to phrase things so he just ends up getting more and more upset while Logan isn’t listening? – anon
Hey! I love your work (I’m definitely a Roman angst enjoyer 😅, but all of it’s good!!). If you’re open to requests, I was thinking about the control that Patton has over Roman because like,, a prince fights for honor. For good. And who decides what those concepts mean? Patton does. In some way, he controls Roman’s narrative. Anyways, h/c with Roman and potentially protective Remus. Thank you for considering!! – anon
Read on Ao3
Warnings: self esteem issues, self doubt, slightly unsympathetic logan and patton
Pairings: gen
Word Count: 5984
"What honor is there that I can find now? What—how do I know what is right anymore? I've been behind a sword for so long, I fear…I fear I'm forgetting who I am without it." His breath comes out shakier. "And I fear…if I were to ever try to explain this to someone who wasn't you, my words would come out so clumsy they would impale me on their rusted edges." "There is nothing wrong with the way you speak, Roman. Nothing at all." "If only it were something that would be listened to."
Thomas sighs, scrubbing a hand over his face. "Okay, I think—is that all we're gonna be able to get done today?"
"I have no qualms about continuing, but I do not think it would be productive."
"I'm not gonna sit here and listen to you go around in circles again and again," Virgil groans, long ago giving up the pretense of standing and paying attention, his forehead pressed against the stairs railing, "just call it here and let us go."
"Now, kiddo, that's not a very sporting attitude!" Patton puts his hands on his hips. "If Thomas thinks we're all involved in this discussion, then there's no point if trying to discount your own importance."
"I'm not discounting my own importance, I'm questioning my relevance." He glares through a gap in the bars at Logan. "This whole thing isn't gonna make me think it's not worth being cautious about, no matter how much L tries to talk me out of it. I'm Anxiety. Literally it's my job to be irrational sometimes. By definition—"
"But we've previously established that you do have some semblance of logical reasoning at points, and this could very well be one of those points—"
"Okay." Thomas cuts Logan off with a wave of his hand. "I think—yeah, I think we're done. I'm sorry, Logan, but I don't—we're kind of at an impasse."
"Here's an idea." Virgil's hand flops lazily up in a parody of raising his hand. "Why don't we ask someone whose literal job it is to come up with ideas?"
Logan's nose wrinkles momentarily and he sighs. "I do not see the value in asking either Roman or Remus to weigh in on this discussion when it has nothing to do with them."
"Uh-huh, so you wanna try to do the create-an-idea thing without the Sides whose job it is to do that?"
"We are all capable of coming up with ideas, Virgil, Roman and Remus simply represent Thomas's Creativity."
"Oh, yeah?" Virgil heaves himself up onto an elbow. "When's the last time you came up with an idea for an experiment on your own?"
"Preposterous. I'm perfectly capable of coming up with my own experiments."
"Do it. Right now."
"We are in the middle of discussing—"
"No, no," Thomas says, "please, I could use a break from thinking about this."
Logan's mouth works for a second. "Very well. Let's see…ah. A spin on the Pinocchio paradox."
"The what?"
"The Pinocchio paradox. A simple thought experiment on what would happen if the character, Pinocchio, uttered the words: 'My nose will grow now.' An interesting thought, given that—"
"That his nose grows when he lies and if it does grow then he told the truth which means it wouldn't grow which means he lies, sure, sure, sure, what does that have to do with anything?"
Logan adjusts his ties and raises a finger. "Janus will now appear."
Everyone in the room pauses, listening for the telltale whoosh of a Side appearing. Which it does, a few seconds later, and Logan gets cuffed on the shoulder.
"What was that for?"
"I'm not an experiment," Janus says, a bit too amused to be an indictment, "and am perfectly capable of showing up to slap you for being an idiot."
"See? Experiment successful."
"That's not—okay." Thomas pinches the bridge of his nose. "Janus, while you're here, you might as well weigh in on this."
'"Being arbitrarily asked to choose a side with little to no context as to what the options are? My favorite." He claps his hands a few times. "What am I choosing between?"
"Would it be better if I responded to this email now, saying that I'm not available for a call for the rest of the day, or should I wait and just call back tomorrow when I am free?"
"Ooh, what an interesting dilemma. How badly will your life be impacted by a negative outcome to this call?"
"Don't fucking start with me, J," Virgil warns, studiously ignoring Patton's language, "I know you've been listening this whole time."
"Oh, you're no fun." Virgil tips him a lazy two-fingered salute and he sighs. "Very well. Thomas, do you want to respond to this now?"
Thomas frowns. "What? Isn't that what you all are here for?"
"We can manifest different parts of you trying to figure something out, but that doesn't mean you don't have your own thoughts about it that aren't us. What do you want to do?"
"This line of questioning is pointless. Thomas has established that he doesn't know what he wants and he's asked us—well, I suppose that now includes you—what to do."
Janus slides his gaze to Logan, eyes narrowing slightly. "That's awfully presumptuous of you, Logan."
"Thomas? Is that an inaccurate conclusion?"
"…I mean, not really."
Logan gestures at him. "See? There you are. Now, either we are agreeing to call the meeting here and simply wait until tomorrow, or we are going to rehash the same arguments from the past hour and quite frankly, I think there is a better use of our time."
"Why are the twins not here?"
"Excuse me?"
"The twins. The ones who are good at coming up with solutions to problems." Janus glances around. "They seem conspicuously absent from this meeting where we are trying to come up with a solution to something."
"That's what I was saying."
Logan sighs, removing his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose. "Alright, if you insist. I do not see what sort of valuable insight they will be able to give us, but if you all want to hear what they have to say, then I suppose I cannot object."
Thomas smiles and reaches out to summon Creativity. A moment later, Roman appears in front of the TV, wincing.
"Thomas?"
"Hey, Roman, we, uh, we were hoping you could help us out."
Roman rubs the back of his neck, glancing around the room. "Uh, sure. What, uh, what with?"
"Thomas is struggling to choose between responding to a missed phone call and voicemail with either an email today apologizing and explaining his availability tomorrow, or simply calling back tomorrow when he is immediately available," Logan says smoothly. "Which option do you think is preferable?"
Roman just blinks at him for a long second. When Logan raises his eyebrows expectantly, his shoulders hunch a little and he curls in on himself. "I, um, I don't know."
"Just as I suspected. Very well, thank you Roman, you may go."
"Wait, what?"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Virgil says, sitting up, "that's not fair, he's been here, what, all of two seconds?"
"Yes, and has just admitted that he doesn't have an answer to us, which is not a productive way to continue this conversation, therefore he can go."
"Wait, Logan—" Thomas holds his hand out, silently asking Roman to stay, "can't we just—how's he gonna be able to actually give his opinion if he doesn't have time to make one?"
"Roman, are the facts I've given to you unclear?"
"Huh? N-no—"
"Do you believe you have a firm enough grasp of the situation to form a conclusion?"
"I mean, yeah, I get it, but—"
"And you still don't know what option you prefer?"
Roman's quiet for a moment, his outstretched hand slowly returning to his side. "…no."
Logan nods. "Settled, then."
"Come on, Logan," Janus says, frowning a little now, "just because you didn't want him here doesn't mean you can throw him away as soon as he's said one thing that vaguely aligns with what you wanted."
"First off, that's an incredible level of irony coming from you—" both Janus and Roman flinch— "and secondly, Roman, would you like to be part of this meeting?"
They all turn to look at Roman, who shuffles under their gazes. He keeps flicking his eyes up to Thomas, then to Patton, then to Janus, before staring back down at his hands. The buzzing of the fridge becomes oppressive. He winces and rubs the back of his neck again.
"Roman?"
"…not really."
"Then it's settled, then. Thank you for your input."
Roman glances once more at Thomas with something almost like longing before he sinks out again. Virgil, who'd been watching him closely, turns to frown at Logan. Logan adjusts his tie.
"If that's all, then, Thomas, would you still like to end the meeting here?"
"Yeah, let's…let's call it."
"Very well. I shall be available if you need me further." He sinks out.
Patton sinks out next, giving Thomas a quick thumbs-up before disappearing. Janus exchanges a brief look with Virgil before he's vanishing too, leaving just the two of them alone in the living room. Thomas puts his hands on his hips, staring at the spot where Roman was.
"So that was weird, right?"
"Yeah." Virgil grunts as he sits up, hands balled up in the pocket of his hoodie. "That…I've never seen them…do that before."
"Did Roman and Logan have a fight or something?"
"I don't think so? I mean, I've seen them argue about stuff, but they always do that and it didn't seem like it was any more, like, intense than usual, so I don't…I don't know why that happened." He shuffles. "I've also never seen Logan be that…short with Roman before."
"Yeah, like, he was here for literally, like—"
"Like two seconds—"
"And then Logan was telling him to go again. And did you notice how he kept looking—"
"At you?"
"At me, yeah, did—did I do something?"
"What? Shit, no, Thomas, I don't think that's it. I think—" he sighs— "look, he's not gonna be happy I'm telling you this, but Princey's been going through some stuff lately and I'm not sure exactly what it is but I know it's been weighing on him a lot."
Thomas frowns. "How so?"
"Well, let me put it this way: have you been daydreaming a lot more lately?"
He thinks. "Uh, yeah, I mean, I guess so, but I haven't been doing that much recently, which kind of makes sense, I guess?"
"Yeah, well, that's Princey in the Imagination." Thomas nods and Virgil gives him a pointed look. "I'm telling you that Princey's been going into the Imagination more."
"Yeah, that's—isn't that what he does?"
Virgil scrubs a hand over his face. "Yeah, it is, but not like this. Normally when he goes in, he's doing it to come up with ideas or work something out, or…something. But recently…"
"But recently that doesn't feel like what he's doing," Thomas finishes, chewing on his lip, "yeah, actually, now that you mention it, it does kind of feel…different. Like—like they're…"
"Comfort," Virgil finishes quietly when he can't quite put his finger on it, "it feels like a comfort."
"Roman's going into the Imagination to comfort himself?" Virgil shrugs. "Why?"
"Like I said, he's going through some stuff. It's not—I'm not all up on how the Imagination translates to whatever your daydreams end up being, but I don't think—Princey's not even telling us what he gets up to in there."
Thomas sucks in a breath. If there's one thing he's learned after listening to them talk about whatever goes on in the Mindscape when they're not with him, it's that Roman loves to regale them with tales of his adventures in the Imagination, even if it comes at the expense of whatever else they're doing. To hear that Roman's been going off more than usual and he isn't telling them about it? Worrying, to say the least.
"When did this start?"
Virgil blows out a breath. "After the wedding."
"Shit, that's…probably not good."
"Yeah."
They both stare at the black TV. A bit of dust gets caught in a gust from the vent and sticks to the corner.
"…he's my hero," Thomas says quietly.
"Huh?"
"He's my hero. Maybe he's…maybe he's going to the Imagination to do the things heroes don't get to do."
"Okay, you gotta break that down for me a little more."
"The heroes don't get to be vulnerable. They don't get to…to actually stop and rest, not really. They have to keep going, they have to…" Thomas swallows. When did this lump in his throat get here? "They're not—oh, god, am I gonna cry?"
"Shit, shit, shit, uh—do you want me to get Patton back?"
"N-no, no, don't—" for some reason the thought of Patton reappearing sends a bolt of fear straight through his chest and he knows Virgil feels it too, shooting to his feet and watching as Thomas stumbles back to the couch— "I—oh, god."
"Hey, hey, hey, buddy," Virgil says, voice soft and low as Thomas buries his face in his hands, "take it easy, okay? You're okay, you're safe in the house, everything's okay. I need you to take a deep breath for me, okay? Just a nice, deep breath, you're okay, that's it, good, now let it out…nice, do it again…"
Virgil helps talk him slowly through the well of emotion suddenly bubbling just at the base of his throat, the breaths coming out shaky but steady. Absentmindedly, he puts a hand to his chest and starts rubbing in slow, firm circles. The pressure does something to the frantic and flighty part of him, helping to soothe him back from whatever brink he hadn't realized he'd walked to.
"Hey," Virgil calls a few minutes later, "you with me again?"
"Yeah, I think so." He takes a couple more seconds just to breathe it out. "Roman's—Roman's my hero, and I don't know if he knows that I…that I still want to listen to him."
"What do you mean?"
"Afterwards. When I—when we were all—when the stuff happened. He said that he thought he was my hero and I told him he was and then he…"
"Freaked," Virgil finishes when he can't, "yeah, I remember."
"I don't…I don't know why that made him so upset."
"Well, hey," he says when that lump starts to come back to his throat, "let's not have you worry about that right now, okay? You—let's go do something else that'll get your mind off of it. Go rewatch the Office bloopers again, that always works."
"Will you—can you keep an eye on him for me?"
"Yeah, Thomas, I can do that. Now c'mon, those bloopers aren't going to rewatch themselves."
***
Roman walks slowly through the woods as the fireflies twinkle around him. He lifts a hand to push aside a branch, stepping through the shadows to emerge onto the thin dirt path that winds through the base of the trees. As the darkness falls, the thin blue lines grow deeper, darker, blending together to weave across the grass as little critters scurry back and forth. The whistle of the wind accompanies the crunch of his footsteps as he makes his way toward the cabin.
Movement from around the side and the man emerges, wiping dirt from his hands with a rag. He looks up and smiles as Roman approaches.
"Roman," he greets, with his voice warm, "how good it is to see you."
"I see I'm a bit too late to help with the chores." He nods to the rag. "I don't mean to impose on you."
"Nonsense, old friend, nothing you do could possibly be an imposition. As it happens, I have a stew on that I won't be able to finish by myself and it would be a great favor to me if you were to help me."
Roman chuckles. "How could I refuse?"
The man holds a hand out to him as he nears, settling it on the curve of Roman's neck and pulling him close for a brief hug of sorts. Roman turns his cheek to rest against the curve of his jaw, breathing out shakily. The man lets out a comforting noise and his fingers card through the delicate hairs at the base of his head.
"Come inside, dear friend, let the fire warm you."
"The night is warm already."
"It is young still, and will grow cold," he says as he begins to lead them up the stairs, "and you look to be the type of cold that does not thaw even in the hottest sun."
"I worry for the state of the realm sometimes, if I am truly so transparent."
"Only to me, dear friend, and only because you have seen fit to allow yourself to be so with me." He's coaxed inside a modest cabin, sat at a simple hewn table as a rich smell fills the room. He closes his eyes to breathe it in, opening them again when the low thud of a bowl and tankard draws his attention. "Eat, please. You know I can't bear a less-than-full stomach under my roof."
"You're too kind to me."
"Nonsense." The hand fits itself around his head once more. "You are worth being kind to, and even more worth allowing me to care for you. Now, come on."
The stew is simple, hearty, and as filling as he could ever want. Under the table, their legs press together, boots against boots, knee against knee. The fire crackles in the hearth as the last of the light fades from outside. He can feel his shoulders beginning to relax, the line of his body growing looser, more languid.
When they've both eaten their fill and the dishes have been set away to deal with later, he sits on the floor near the hearth and stares into the flames. A warm hand lands on his shoulder and brings his head to rest against another, light touch trailing over the bare skin under his sleeve.
"What troubles you tonight, dear friend?"
"I don't want to impose—"
"Shh, none of that now. It's an honor to be troubled by your worries."
He turns his head into the crook of his neck, breathing in the smell of clean sweat, of spiced apple, of wood smoke. "I struggle to remember what it is I fight for."
Gentle nails along his scalp. "How so?"
"What honor is there that I can find now? What—how do I know what is right anymore? I've been behind a sword for so long, I fear…I fear I'm forgetting who I am without it." His breath comes out shakier. "And I fear…if I were to ever try to explain this to someone who wasn't you, my words would come out so clumsy they would impale me on their rusted edges."
"There is nothing wrong with the way you speak, Roman. Nothing at all."
"If only it were something that would be listened to."
"Hey." He's nudged until he can look up at the man's face. "You once told me that all you wanted to fight for was this. For the chance for one to sit, in the peace and safety, with those they care for, and have that be alright. Is this still true?"
"Yes. But I don't—I no longer know how to do that."
The man goes quiet, contemplative, running his fingers gently over the edge of Roman's face. The touch coaxes a lump to his throat, a tear to his eye, and the man lets out another comforting noise, pulling him closer.
"Rest for the night, please, dear friend. My bed is warm, my touch willing. You fear losing who you are without your sword? Put it down for the night, stay. Remind yourself of how to enjoy the thing you fight for."
"If only I could be as persuasive as you," he mumbles, allowing himself to sink into the warmth of the touch, "then I might never need a sword again."
He chuckles. "Well, I don't know if I can do all that much, but I have learned how to persuade you, my dear, and that will serve me well enough."
***
"Roman?"
Roman turns, spotting Janus as he trudges back from the Imagination. "What're you doing awake?"
"I was waiting for you."
He winces. "Sorry, I, um, did we have something planned?"
"What? No, no, sweetie, nothing like that, I only—I wanted to talk to you for a moment."
A chill works its way up Roman's spine and he suppresses a shudder, walking slowly to his room and opening the door. Janus follows him in, carefully closing it behind them and waiting while Roman tucks something into a drawer on his desk and sitting down.
"What's up?"
"Are you…are you okay?"
He flinches slightly. "Why, um, why?"
Janus looks pained. He glances around and seemingly comes to a decision before sinking down to the floor, crossing his legs and sighing. "You…seemed very upset after earlier, and I wanted to come and ask you about it."
"Oh, no, I'm fine, I wasn't—Logan was right, I wasn't going to be useful in that conversation."
"The one you were in for all of three seconds before you were being shunted out of it again?"
Roman narrows his eyes. "You know, it is kind of ironic that you of all people are worrying about that right now."
Janus barely has time to process how he feels about that sentence before Roman's eyes are widening and he's leaning back.
"Sorry, I'm sorry, that came out really rude, I didn't mean that."
"You did, and that's okay. No, no—really, it is okay, Roman, you don't have to pretend like I didn't hurt you—that I'm not hurting you when I do things like that. No, no—" he stands as Roman covers his face with his hands— "please, sweetie, just—just listen to me for a second, okay?"
Roman nods, his face still hidden. Janus hesitates for a moment before gloved hands come down to rest on his shoulders. He leans down and carefully, carefully presses his chin to the top of Roman's head. Roman shudders a little under the contact but stays still.
"You've been distant lately," Janus whispers, as though afraid of breaking the silence, "and that's not a bad thing, sweetie, but it's…it seems like it's hurting you. And I'm worried because Thomas isn't—I don't know what Thomas would do without you."
Roman stiffens and immediately he knows it was the wrong thing to say. "I won't let Thomas down again, I know what I'm doing. I'm just—I'm sorry I haven't been very present lately, but I'm—"
"No, no, that's not what I meant—wait, what do you mean, 'again?'"
Roman hunches his shoulders. "I know I'm not Thomas's hero anymore, okay? You don't need to keep acting like I'm—"
"Wait, wait, sweetie." Janus crouches down, cupping Roman's face in his hands. "What do you mean, you're not Thomas's hero anymore?"
"That's what you said! After the wedding, when he said—when I said—and you nodded! Like it was a lie!" He jerks away. "We don't need to pretend that didn't happen, okay? I remember, it's not like I could forget something like that."
"No, no, Roman—no, that's not what I meant, I didn't—it wasn't a lie."
Roman goes still. He stares at Janus for a long moment, long enough for a bit of a smile to come to his face, like Roman's actually listening to him. Then Roman's expression darkens and the voice that comes out of him is darker and more venomous than anything Janus has ever heard.
"Do not lie to me."
"R-Roman—"
"No." Roman pulls away, standing up, towering over him. "You will not lie to me. Not about that, not about anything like that. Use me as your puppet all you want, everyone knows I can't stop you, but I won't let you lie to me about this. Ever."
He's already fumbling to get his gloves off, surging up and grabbing Roman in a tight hug, so close he couldn't hope to get an inch of distance between them. "I'm not lying," he hisses, almost into Roman's nose, "I'm not lying about this, Roman, I'm not. Thomas wasn't lying. You're his hero. You still are."
"Stop it—"
"My gloves are off! I can't lie with my gloves off, Thomas loves you—you're his hero—"
"Stop it!" The words leave Roman in a breathless cry and Janus is left struggling to heft his weight as his knees buckle. "Stop it, stop it—stop it, it's not true, it can't be true, it's a lie—it—it has to be—"
"Why does it have to be, sweetie?" They're back on the floor, Janus smoothing hair back from Roman's flushed face, awkwardly holding him in his lap. "Why did it have to be a lie?"
"Because—because—" he sniffles— "nothing makes sense anymore. I don't—I can't—I can't do anything."
He frowns. "What do you mean you can't do anything?"
Hands come up to circle his wrists, not to push him away, just to have somewhere else to hold onto. "Princes fight for honor, for what's good. I can't—I can't fight anymore."
Not much can break Janus's heart like hearing Roman admit something like that, fewer things still can threaten tears at the corners of his eyes like the ones badly concealed in Roman's voice. "What do you mean, sweetie? Why can't you fight anymore?"
"I don't know anything! I don't know what's good, what's honorable, what's—what's right, I can't…I'm wrong, Janus, I'm just wrong and I don't—I don't know how to be right again."
"Shh, shh, shh, easy, now, sweetie, shh…" Janus hauls him closer, pressing his mouth to his flushed cheek, still murmuring comfort. "Shh…that's it, just stay here with me a moment, okay?"
"J-Janus—"
"I'm here, sweetie, I'm right here."
Roman's stifled sobs land like mines in the room, creating a mess around them as he curls up tighter, tighter still. The door to the Imagination glistens softly and he can almost hear the distant crackle of a fireplace and that alone sends him further into the fit. Janus's hands remain gentle, holding him close, but everything keeps spinning and nothing, nothing makes sense except the hurt in his chest.
He's going to cry himself to sleep again, he realizes faintly as exhaustion starts to seep through him, but then Janus is kissing his forehead again and gently shaking him awake.
"Sweetie, listen to me: no one knows what you fight for better than you, okay? You're Thomas's Hopes and Dreams, his hero—" Roman whimpers— "you do know what's right."
"N-no, I don't."
"Then who does know?"
"Patton."
Janus's blood runs cold. "Patton? Why Patton?"
"Patton's the Heart, he's M—he's Morality. He knows—he decides. I'm—I just follow." He sniffles. "And Logan—Logan, he's right, I don't—I'm so stupid—"
"That's enough, now." He runs a hand through his hair again. "That's enough, sweetie. You're not stupid. No—shh, shh, you're not. You know you're not."
"I am. I can't—I can't talk right and I don't know what I'm doing and—an' I'm just gonna mess everything up again."
Janus closes his eyes, bowing his head and taking a deep breath of his own. Cradling Roman's head to his chest, he leans down and kisses both his forehead and his cheeks, just staying there for a long, long moment. Roman's soft sobs echo gently in his ear and he tucks a stray piece of hair back from his face.
"You're not stupid," he murmurs, "you're not going to mess everything up again. You're okay. You're okay, sweetie."
Roman sniffles and shakes his head. "No, it's not. It's not okay."
"…no," Janus concedes, pulling Roman close, "I suppose it's not."
***
Not many things can happen in the Mindscape without Remus noticing, and almost nothing can happen to his brother without him showing up to knock some heads.
Case in point: when there's a tug in his gut telling him that Roman is upset, he grabs his Morningstar and sinks out without hesitating.
When he rises up in the living room, it takes less than two seconds for him to determine one: that Logan is picking on his brother, two: Patton isn't doing anything to stop him, and three: Roman is crying.
"Remus, not now," Logan sighs, "we're in the middle of something."
"You're in the middle of hurting my brother."
"R-Re?" He's got his arm around Roman's shoulders in the next moment. "W-wait, I need to—I have to—I gotta explain."
"Explain what, Roro?"
Logan sighs. "Roman has been trying, unsuccessfully, to explain that we are at fault for—"
"Ah, no." Remus throws a knife at Logan. "I didn't ask you. Shush."
"Remus! Throwing knives at people isn't nice!"
"Neither is making them cry! We're all in agreement." He tucks his head against Roman's, gentling his voice. "What're you trying to explain, Roro?"
"The—" he sniffles— "Janus said I should try—try talking to them and I said it wouldn't work but he—he insisted an' I—"
"Shh, shh, take your time, Ro, you're doing great."
"Heart. Morality. Prince. Logic."
Remus's little black heart breaks in two and he wraps his arms tightly around his brother. "Oh, Ro, it's okay. It's gonna be okay, lemme get you somewhere safe and I'll do it for you, okay?"
"You don't have to—"
"Trust me, Ro-bro, I got this."
Roman sags in his arms. "O-okay."
Remus quickly bids the Imagination to open its doors and sinks Roman out, giving him a gentle push into the forest before reappearing in the living room. He cracks his knuckles and grins.
"Alright, where were we?"
Logan sighs. "Remus, I don't—"
"Ah, that's right!" Remus throws another knife at him. "You, not listening to people who can't articulate things as well as you can! Rude and ableist, Loganberry, not a good look on you."
"I am not—"
"Roman can't articulate his thoughts as well as you can and so you think you're better than him, smarter than him, and that he's not worth listening to, is that explicit enough?" Logan opens and closes his mouth a few times but doesn't say anything. "Mm. And you!"
Patton yelps as Remus throws something at him too.
"You have a nasty habit of making Roman feel like a helpless little kid! You have a lot of sway over things like Thomas's sense of right and wrong and when you don't talk to Roman like he's your equal, you really fuck him up!"
"Language—"
"Don't fucking talk to me about my language," Remus says with artificial cheeriness, "talk to yourself about how not to give my brother an identity crisis!"
He stops throwing things, mainly because the rest of them are exploding or things he knows Roman would rather he didn't throw at them, no matter how tempting it is. The two of them slowly get their shit together, each with a different amount of regret. He doesn't really care about that, though, so long as they're not going to hurt Roman like that again.
"Good chat!"
And he sinks out to tackle Roman into Ollie's pond so they can have fun playing and not crying.
God, he loves his brother.
***
"Hey, Thomas?"
Thomas looks up and sees Virgil on the stairs. "Oh, hey, Virge, what's up?"
"You, uh, you asked me to keep an eye on Princey."
He sits up straight. "Yeah, what's—what's going on?"
Virgil sighs, rubbing his hands together. "There was a…not a fight, but some stuff happened. Turns out that Roman, uh, didn't believe you when you said you still thought of him as your hero and it…got bad."
"Do I want to know how bad?"
"Like, bad enough that Roman wasn't—shit, Thomas, no, I don't think you wanna know. Let's just say it was bad enough that he wasn't just going to the Imagination for comfort, he was going there because it was the only place he felt safe."
"Oh, Roman…"
"The fight—the thing was about Roman trying to explain to Patton and Logan how it fucked him up really badly, and he wasn't—you know how Roman's not always the best at explaining himself?"
"Yeah?"
"It—it wasn't really going well. Remus had to step in and do it for him."
"Wait, Remus?"
"Yeah, they're brothers. Remus—shit, Remus is really protective of Roman sometimes and this time wasn't an exception. Everyone's fine now, but it's…" Virgil sighs. "Logan and Patton have apologized and everybody's working on it, but I thought you'd want to know."
"How much stuff happens with you guys that I don't know about?"
"Honestly? I don't think you want the answer to that either."
"Jesus." Thomas scrubs a hand over his face. "Alright, well, thanks for telling me, Virgil. If…if there's anything I can do, let me know?"
Virgil nods and sinks out. Thomas puts a hand to his chest, rubbing in slow circles. There's a part of him that feels cold, still. Maybe…maybe he can figure out some way to help warm it up.
***
Roman wakes up to the sound of a crackling fire. He hums, rolling over, reaching for the edge of the bed, only to stop when his hands meet the thick red comforter. He frowns. This…this is his bed. He didn't fall asleep in the Imagination. So then why…?
He looks over and his eyes widen.
Across the room, tucked into a neat little alcove that definitely wasn't there when he went to sleep, is a merrily crackling fireplace. Above it, mounted on a gold plaque, is a cardboard sword with the words you're my hero written on it in red ink.
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In the Bleak Midwinter: Chapter 1 (18+ MDNI)
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All Series Masterlist
Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader
Summary (Whole Story): Left with the dying wish of her husband, Y/N finds herself in Birmingham in search of one Thomas Shelby. Old wounds for both will be brought to light as the pair finds a way to heal from the hurt of the past together.
Chapter Summary: Y/N goes to find Thomas to drop off a letter that was left for him by her husband before his death. The search does not get off to a great start. With nothing to go on besides a tip to visit the Garrison, Y/N is left to her own devices to push through the obstacles and carry out this last act. Personalities clash as Y/N begins to interact with the hardworking folks of Watery Lane, including Mr. Thomas Shelby himself.
Warnings: Language + alcohol & drug use + illusions to self-harm/suicide. Eventually, as the relationship grows, this story will become even more 18+. So, please check the warnings before reading each chapter.
A/N: Okay folks, I don't normally start multiple series at once, but I had to start writing this. I'm binge-watching Peaky Blinders and have become totally enthralled by these characters. I'm very excited about this journey/story and can't wait to share it with you. As always, I apologize for any mistakes.
____________________________________________
Rain poured in sideways sheets that blew over the rooftops, filling the pitted roads to the brim and turning them into a sea of mud and horse shit. The wind whipped around the corners of the buildings smacking around anyone unfortunate enough to be caught in the deluge. Tugging the edge of your hat down a bit further to keep it from flying away, you pushed through the dark of night toward the glowing windows dead ahead. A golden glow and rowdy voices spilled out from the pub whose presence was the only source of life in the grim surroundings.
Warmth rolled out in a most pleasant wave as you pushed your way inside the bar. The place was full to the brim with intoxicated patrons letting off steam after a long day of work, their faces and hands still coated with the filth of their jobs. Thankfully the men seemed too far gone at this point to notice your presence. Behind the bar stood a kindly-looking man, a smile pulled at the corners of his mouth as he pulled another beer from the tap. Watching from the shadows, you waited for the men to grab their drinks before approaching the bartender.
Catching your movement out of his peripheral, he began to speak before getting a good look at you, “What can I get for ya? Beer or …” wiping his hands on a rag, his eyes roved over your figure before speaking again, “Sorry love, we don’t serve unaccompanied ladies at the Garrison. I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.”
“That’s all right, I’m not here for a drink. I uh… I’m lookin’ for someone. I was told that I might be able to find ‘em here.”
“Not sure if I’ll be of any help, but who are you lookin’ for?”
“His name’s Thomas Shelby.”
The man’s eyes narrowed as he sat down the cloth he was holding on the countertop, “I don’t know who told you that he’d be here, but I can assure you that this isn’t the place.”
“But you do know who he is, yeah?”
“Yes, I do, but he isn’t ‘er, and it isn’t my job to meddle in other people’s business. If you want to get in touch with him, you’ll have to figure out a different way.”
“But I don’t ‘ave another way. Please, I came all this way. I-I don’t even need to speak to him, I just-”
Clearing his throat he glanced toward the side of the bar as he continued, “Listen, I can’t help ya, and moreover, it’s not safe for a lady to be out in Small Heath at this hour. What I can do is get someone to walk you home, but beyond that, I’m afraid I’ll be of no help.”
“Fine. I’ll leave, if you promise to give him this.” reaching into the hidden pocket of your coat, you pulled out a worn envelope and held it out for the man to take.
Hesitantly, he looked closer at the paper, “Why should I do that?”
“It’s from William Butler,” Swallowing hard, you worked up the courage to keep eye contact, “He’ll want to read it.”
Catching your face, he noticed the way your jaw twitched as you spoke the name. There was a sadness in your eyes that worked its way over the rest of your features, pinching the corners of your mouth in a frown as you stared at him.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure you mean well, but I can’t do this for you.”
“Why the fuck not? I ‘aven’t asked you to kill a man, I’ve asked ya to deliver a letter.”
“As I told ya, I’m not here to get involved with other people’s business, and certainly not Thomas Shelby’s.” Turning away, he shouted a name into the crowd, drawing another person to the bar, “Make sure she gets home safe, all right? And then get your ass back here and clear up the mess you and the rest of your mates made. No extra stops, you ‘ere me?”
“Yes, sir. No, problem, sir.”
Giving you no time to protest further, the young man grabbed you lightly by the elbow and did his best to guide you through the crowd. The walk back to your rented room was quiet other than the sounds of the wind whipping through the air. The boy who accompanied you had the good sense to keep his mouth shut, but whether that was from a fear of the hateful look you’d given him when he’d introduced himself or fear of the bartender's wrath if he didn’t take care of this business in good time, you’d never know.
Safely inside, you hung your sopping clothes wherever you could find room before slipping into a dry set of pajamas. Grabbing the flask from your bag and your gun, you took a seat in the stiff wooden chair near the window. The whoosh of heavy drops and bright flashes of lightning flooded the tiny space and did nothing to steady your nerves.
Staring blindly into the night, you fought a silent battle with your mind. Pushing it back from the dark recesses you tried so hard to avoid. Some nights the battle was more readily won, the odds tipped in your favor by early and heavy consumption of whiskey and laudanum. On other nights, the fight was lost before it even began. The cool metal of your gun pressed hauntingly into the palm of your hand as the memories of that night pounded against your soul and overwhelmed your senses. The iron tang of blood, warm and wet upon your skin. The profound silence was broken by the desperation of your screams. No, on those nights it was only sheer willpower that kept you from falling into the abyss.
This night would be one of the latter.
…
Murky gray light filtered through the lacey curtains, the brightness was enough to rouse you from the weak sleep you’d fallen into the previous night. Sitting up, you rolled your head from side to side in an attempt to release the tension in your muscles. Falling unconscious in the chair with your head pressed against the window did little to alleviate the bone-deep exhaustion that had become your constant companion.
The cap of your flask squeaked in protest as you spun it open. Tossing back a swallow of the astringent liquid, you stood from the chair and assessed your surroundings. A singular suitcase sat open and mostly empty on the bed. From the looks of the clothes you’d hung around the room the previous night, they had a long way to go in terms of drying before they’d be ready to wear again. Only one other outfit remained untouched in your bag.
Setting down your drink, you moved to the bed. The weight of your body caused the mattress to creak, the whole frame moved with you as you adjusted your position. Your fingertips brushed over the black dress that sat folded neatly in front of you. The cotton was soft if a bit threadbare, but it would do.
…
By the time you made your way out onto Watery Lane, sunshine had burned away the morning clouds, leaving behind a beautiful blue sky. Tipping your face up, you let the warmth rush over your skin for a moment. Hearing the sound of voices barreling down the walk, you forced yourself to move. At a loss for how to proceed after the failure of the previous night, you decided to give the Garrison one more shot.
In the light of day, the clattering of heavy machinery echoed through the streets. Its noise was a welcome distraction from the pounding of your heart as you strode toward the bar. Its humble black exterior blended into the ambiance of the city, matching the looks of the buildings and the people who inhabited them perfectly. Wasting no time, you made your way inside. The clip of your heels on the floor clearly announced your entrance.
“We’re closed. You’ll have to get your drink elsewhere.”
Stopping in your tracks, your focus turned to the man behind the bar, his back still turned to you as a cigarette hung loosely between the fingers of his right hand. The fine black suit he wore was certainly a cut above the rest, its pristine fabric hugged his figure perfectly. Pouring three fingers of whisky, he took a sip and continued to ignore your presence.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.”
At the sound of your voice, the man turned, his piercing blue eyes locked onto you immediately, “No worry, you’re not interrupting anything. Is there somethin’ I can help you with?”
“Uhh, maybe. I’m lookin’ for someone.”
“And who’d that be?”
“It’s Thomas Shelby. I, I was told by some people at the station that if I wanted to find any of the Shelbys I should try the Garrison.”
“Really?” clearing his throat, he tossed back the rest of his drink before speaking again, “An’ what do you need with him?”
“I have a letter I need to give to him. That’s all.”
“A letter. What’s so important about this letter?”
“Why do you care?”
“Curiosity. Drink?” Sitting down an empty glass on the counter, he held out the bottle of whiskey as a question.
“Sure.” Closing the distance to the bar, you hoisted yourself onto one of the seats, and tossed back the amber liquid in one quick swallow, “But you didn’t truly answer my question. Why do you care?”
“Call it a vested interest.”
“Jesus. You know what, thank you for the drink, but I think I’ll be going now. No reason to stay since you obviously can’t help me.”
Tossing a coin on the counter, you slid from your seat and turned away toward the door, but you didn’t get far before the man’s powerful voice called out.
“Eh, wait! Where the hell do you think you’re goin’?” his strong hand clasped tightly around your wrist as he spun you around.
Unwilling to give him the upper hand so easily, you cooly held his gaze, “ I’m goin’ to find someone who can actually fuckin’ help me.”
Fed up with the bullshit, you turned around rapidly to exit.
“For fucks sake, it’s me. I’m Thomas Shelby.”
Frozen in place you let the hot wave of anger that flooded your veins simmer for a second before gathering up the strength to face him.
“Now that we’ve got that on the table, why are you really ‘ere?”
“I have a letter, as I told you.”
“That’s not what I’m fuckin’ asking.”
“Then what is it you want me to say, Mr. Shelby? Do you want me to say that I’m here because of my dead husband? Or is that not enough? Maybe you want to know that it’s because the last thing he left me was a fuckin’ note telling me to bring this to you?” pulling the letter from your pocket, you held it up for him to see, “Is that what you want to hear?”
A blank look fell over Thommy’s face as he contemplated what you’d told him.
“What’s your name?”
“Y/N. My husband is… was William Butler.”
“William.” a lost look replaced the blank stare, “He… he and I… we served… he was a good man.”
“Yes, I know. Now, are you gonna take this letter? Or should I haul meself all the way back home and explain to him over his grave that I failed to do the last thing he asked of me, hmm?”
Reaching out, his hand shook as he took the paper from you.
“Thank you, Mr. Shelby. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be going.”
“Hold on, you can’t just leave me with this letter, and then disappear. Where will I be able to find you?”
“First of all, Thomas, let’s get one thing straight. I can do just that. I did what I came here to do, and now I have no use for this shithole of a city. But if you read that letter, and decide that you need to clear your conscience or whatever the fuck it is you feel you need to do, you’ll be able to find me at 725 Watery Lane. I’m there until the end of the week.”
With that, you stormed out of the Garrison, slamming your palms against the wood of the door so hard that it stung up to your wrists. Wobbly legs took you back across the road. Tears streamed in hot rivers down your cheeks as you pushed inside your room. Unable to move any further, you sunk to the ground behind the door, your back flush with it. With unsteady hands, you pulled out your flask and took a swig before reaching back into the pocket in search of the tiny vial you kept hidden inside for emergencies.
Your finger closed around the tan bottle and pulled the cork. Tipping it back, the liquid slid down your throat, mixing with the cheap alcohol you’d just consumed. Soon, the harsh edges of the world began to fade, easing the grief and anger that had threatened to pull you under. Resting your head back against the door, you let your eyes close as you slipped away from reality.
#thomas shelby fic#thomas shelby x y/n#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#peaky blinder fanfic#tommy shelby x you#tommy shelby fic#tommy shelby x reader#peaky blinders#cillian murphy
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Hey, I just found out that there was a mini lfd fandom on here and I immediately binged all your fanfic! I've seen you mention stuff about the costume dept that worked on the show maybe playing into Dasey, could you maybe expand on that because I'd love to hear your thoughts. <3
HIIIII. Welcome to our little corner of the internet! We are indeed active and (if you're a dasey shipper), we even have a discord where we yammer at each other, so, uh let me know if you're interested in that so I can direct you to the appropriate inviting parties.
(also, if you ever wanna talk about my stories, I am a needy gremlin)
First of all, this is probably gonna be long because despite my English degree, I am a rambler of the highest order (you can tell because my fics are all suuuuuper long). Secondly, I don't have any screenshots to share, so I'll try to be as descriptive as possible, because I genuinely don't have the time to go back and get screenshots (sorry y'all). Thirdly, I AM still in the midst of re-watching the showing all the way through, so all my examples are gonna be from the first half -- BUT DON'T WORRY, I'LL KEEP NOTICING THEM AS I GO -- and fourthly: I wanna talk a little bit about WHY I notice costume choices.
So, I am not a fashion guru or someone who keeps up on trends BUT I am someone who was taught that, as a writer, showing is better than telling. How does a TV show or movie show us things about a character? Costumes are a major part; and I've watched enough behind-the-scenes and read some ABSOLUTELY FASCINATING costume meta from other fandoms, that I think it's fair to say that costumes are speaking VOLUMES. There are whole posts (from, again, other fandoms) on colour theory and I'll touch on that a fair bit; or we could simply talk about how well the clothes sit on the person probably says a lot about how they either view themselves OR want others to view them.
For instance: as a general rule, Casey's clothes are (1) far more form-fitting than Derek's; and (2) overall far more 'put together as a whole' than Derek's. Now, we can be cynical and attribute that to capitalism and sex selling (although Michael Seater is an attractive dude and I wouldn't have been put off by a shirt showing off his arms); OR we could look at it and say: What does this say about Casey and Derek?
Well, we COULD say that it means that Casey is far more comfortable with herself than Derek is. Derek's clothes are far looser, and he often wears layers (jackets over shirts or one shirt over another shirt). Now, partially this was the fashion of the time, but ignore that for a second: this means that Derek is HIDING parts of himself from the world. He's covering himself in literal and figurative layers so that people don't see him naked and vulnerable. Casey, for all that she's clumsy and a nerd and sees herself as not being popular, is also very clearly HERSELF. She loudly proclaims injustices; she runs for class president; she goes up against a bully to protect her stepbrother even though her boyfriend asks her not to... You see where I'm going with this? Derek pretends he doesn't have feelings and bottles them all inside, when we know from watching him in his private moments, that he actually has BIG feelings and a soft, gooey heart.
Take this one step further: what does this mean about how they want to be perceived by others: Casey wants people to believe that she has everything under control. Her hair is done (always way better than anything I did in high school), her outfits match, her nails are done: she might be a keener and a nerd, but she's an EFFECTIVE and PREPARED nerd. Maybe her personality is a turn-off for some, but she can still give a good first impression. Now, for Derek, let's spin back around to my first point: layers were in fashion in the mid-2000s. Derek dresses according to the current trends because he wants to be popular. He also has a certain reputation of being cool, calm, in control, not working too hard, being chill, everything's all good with the V-man. So he dresses 'casually', with his clothes often looking like he just pulled them on. No ironing for Derek!
Also, on another character note before we get into Dasey — Casey dresses very feminine. She wears a lot of skirts and dresses, and when she doesn't, her jeans are often low-rise (again, the style at that time) and her shirts are form-fitting but not too sexy. She's conservative, but still fun underneath the ironed clothes. Casey also wears layers, but those are a lot less noticeable than Derek's, and not quite as often -- that's because Casey is ALSO hiding things; our girl is big on denial. However, because she's our narrator, it's not something they like to draw attention to. She's supposed to be reliable.
(she's not a reliable narrator, fyi).
SO LET'S TALK ABOUT DASEY.
(if this isn't what you wanted, I'm so so sorry)
The first and most consistent impression we get of Derek and Casey is from the theme song and the Genora wedding pictures -- and their outfits demonstrate what I'm talking about above almost perfectly. Casey is wearing a pink dress, very feminine; Derek is wearing a black blazer and a blue dress shirt. (Casey wears a LOT of pink in the show, btw; just a comment on her character). This establishes their characters: see everything I said above -- Derek doesn't wear a tie because he's LOOSE, ya see? -- but also has them in opposite BUT COMPLIMENTARY colours. We see pink vs black and blue and think, Ah, okay, these two are opposites. They're probably gonna fight. And that's true! But they also look really good next to each other! Lots of people, for a good WOW factor, will match pink with black, or blues with pinks. Also to note: Derek's blue shirt is very bright -- it would be easy for them to have him all in dark colours to give us the impression that they are VERY opposite; but they don't. They give him a bright colour TO MATCH her bright colour.
Do you see where I'm going with this?
I've also been noticing things like Casey dressing very similarly to girls Derek declares as "hot" -- see Sandra in Marti the Monster -- and in Venturian Candidate, Derek imagines Casey as a sexy personal assistant. She also is a cheerleader at some point -- and we know that that would drive Derek insane.
Let's also take a moment and return to that pink dress Casey wore to Genora's wedding; when do we see it in the show? When she loans it to Vicki. What happens when Vicki is wearing that dress? Derek makes out with her.
THEY DID NOT HAVE TO DO THIS. Derek could have made out with Vicki when she was wearing ANYTHING else (like the black and white dress she originally has for the wedding and would be a way to show how DIFFERENT she really is from Casey). But they purposely point out that Vicki looks like Casey, Derek calls her a "total babe", and then when Casey very pointedly states aloud that she can loan Vicki a dress, the ONLY time we see Vicki wearing it is when her mouth is attached to Derek's.
FURTHERMORE: why does Casey insist they DRESS up for their presentation on Percy and Mary Shelley (who are married!!! who. are. MARRIED)??? Sometimes they have Derek and Casey wearing similar styles; I think there was an episode where they were both wearing stripes, but in different directions? But, still: there are HUNDREDS of shirts they could have chosen!!! But they keep finding ones that say: "See!! We're opposites, but connected!"
For a final note, I did find this image:
The famed "same difference" scene.
Please note that Derek and Casey are wearing green and purple respectively. Now, green and purple are considered complementary colours (gasp!), because they are on opposite sides of the colour wheel (gasp!!). But, depending on the shades of green and purple and how they're placed together, green and purple work really really well aesthetically. (Also, interestingly enough when I looked at colour theory, green is supposed to be a healing, stabilizing colour while purple is ambitious and creative. Not really important for this moment, but I think says volumes about the characters themselves.)
Also: they are both in a single layer. Derek has his sleeves rolled up -- actually showing skin!! He's being vulnerable purposely!! Casey has her hair tied back but it's falling out and around her face -- she's very casual and herself in this scene BUT ALSO this lets her hide behind some of her hair if she needs to. Metaphorically, she does. It's not a lot of hair, and Derek sees right through her, but it's enough of a barrier to make a point, and a few seconds after this image above, Derek backs off and retreats into himself.
I could go on, but this is long enough and I'm sure as I continue my (very slow) re-watch of the show, I'll find more things that make me scream. But yeah: the costume department knew what they were doing. There's a reason a lot of us ship Dasey.
#asks#dasey#life with derek#costume meta#colour theory#am i looking at this too closely? you know what; i really don't think so#they have so many options for clothes and yet they purposely chose the ones they did#there must be a reason. i'm sure of it
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Pistol packin' mama, lay that thing down before it goes off and hurts somebody! —“Pistol Packin’ Mama,” Bing Crosby (1943)
It Keeps Right On a-Hurtin’ #24 - Ring-a-Ding-Ding III
Collaborative Issue! Guest Artist: @yesjejunus
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Read IKROAH on Archive of Our Own
Notes / Original Pencils / Transcript:
Notes:
Oh noooooooooooo :(
These pages might get shrunken a little by Tumblr for some reason so either right-click to view at full-size or just read it on AO3 at the link above. And give a round of applause to my wonderful and wonderfully talented friend @yesjejunus who returns to guest art duty with this new issue, which is just another car crashing into the pile-up that is happening to Agnes in the closing half of Volume 2. Issue #25 will be all of my own art again, and I've been working for a long time on reinventing the look, feel, and production of IKROAH's artstyle so I hope you'll all be as excited as I am. Some really big things are about to happen.
Original Pencils
Here's another reason why mr. jejunus deserves a round of applause: patience. I talk often about how IKROAH is a very long-term project but this issue marks the longest collaboration in the history of the comic: the original pencils for this issue were drawn in August 2021. This was also when yesjejunus and I first discussed him doing guest art for this issue, and it would have been a lot sooner, of course, but you know, things (like months of burnout) can just happen. By the time this issue was finally next in the queue, I had committed to increasing the resolution of IKROAH's pages just to ease my own production, but these pencils were still formatted for the old size. I had to reformat these pencils for the new size and aspect ratio.
The tumblr editor keeps crashing every time I try to include them, so here's links instead: [1] [2] [3].
The thing about working with yesjejunus on comic issues like this is that at this point we're so deep in each other's heads that I barely even need to give him feedback. He understands the assignment completely because we're both sickos pressed against each other's brain-windows going "Yes…ha ha ha…yes!" and drooling. It's the kind of friendship as well as creative partnership that you really just treasure.
Transcript
INT. BENNY'S BEDROOM, THE TOPS CASINO, NEW VEGAS.
AGNES SANDS stares down, exhausted, at BENNY, the leader of the Chairmen and the man who shot her in the head.
BENNY does not stare back. He is dead. His eyes have rolled up lifelessly and blood is oozing from the gruesome wound in his skull.
AGNES looks away.
Suddenly—
SFX: KNOCK KNOCK
VOICE FROM OUTSIDE (off): Hey, Ben-man! Everything alright in there?
AGNES jerks up in surprise. She searches her surroundings frantically, looking for a way out. The gun that she shot BENNY with—the gun that BENNY shot her with—is still in her hand. She sees a side door, barely ajar, leading out of BENNY'S BEDROOM with a dim light coming from behind it.
AGNES sprints forward, her arm outstretched to shove open the door, and barges in. Then she freezes in her tracks. In front of her is a large and ambulatory machine, with claw-like arms and a computer monitor in its center. The monitor displays an unchanging vector of a happily smiling face. It speaks.
THE MACHINE: Hello! I'm Yes Ma—
AGNES raises the gun with both hands and fires repeatedly, her eyes wide and mouth agape in terror. She empties it of every single other bullet that was left in it.
THE MACHINE (shorting out): I-I'm sorry…!!
THE MACHINE crumples from the repeated shots, which shatter its monitor-face like a glass window and send it falling backwards. Its robotic corpse snaps and cracks with electricity and malfunctioning hardware as AGNES remains stunned in the doorway.
SFX: KNOCK KNOCK
AGNES looks up as BENNY'S men pound harder on the door to the suite.
VOICE FROM OUTSIDE (off): Benny! We heard shots! We're coming in!
AGNES drops the gun and flees through the hallway's secret private elevator.
VOICE FROM OUTSIDE (off): Oh, shit, somebody iced 'im! Get security!
#fallout#fallout new vegas#fnv#courier six#agnes sands#benny gecko#yes man#ikroah archive#volume 02#24
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