#The wolf that runs a Pizza Joint
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
(The Wolf that Runs a Pizza Joint) Chapter One
Just another day, thought Peppino.
Sure, business was at a steady pace, but it seemed like it was more… familiar day after day. Not that he was complaining, of course, but after the incident regarding the Pizza Tower, there was a natural way that these kind of days went.
He did enjoy that business, and he never wanted any kind of threats that big ever again. It did feel rather boring, but he didn’t mind most of the time. The phone rang. But who could possibly be ordering this late? “This better not be another of the Noise’s prank calls…”
It was not.
“Hello? Are you still open? I would like to place an order…”
~~~~~~~
It was just when the sun had set all the way that the delivery was finished. He had just closed up shop and was headed back to his apartment… but the usual road was blocked by a fallen tree.
“Guess I’m going through the woods…”
Peppino Spaghetti was no stranger to unfamiliar situations like this. In ascending the pizza tower alone, he went through an active war zone, faced nightmarish animatronics, got abducted by aliens, was thrown in jail temporarily, and became a ghost, knight, and a strange sticky cheese creature, for lack of a better term.
So what could stand in the way of him traversing the woods alone and making it back home after a semi successful work day? Nothing, that’s what! He trekked through the woods without so much trouble, and he was perfectly fine! He can do this, he- *snap.*
What was that?
“That was… off-putting.” He continued on his path through the woods, trying to pay no mind to what hides in the darkness. He knew he had to keep walking, no matter what he heard. Nothing would keep him away, not even… a freshly-killed deer on the ground?!
It was still warm, too. He kept walking, and he wasn’t going to stop- “Gesu Cristo!” Something bit into the deer corpse, and he knew that sound anywhere. “Best start running!” He picked up the pace, but whatever was following him was close; he could tell from the rustling in the bushes. It was getting closer…
Closer…
By now, Peppino was in a full sprint. Whatever it was, it wasn’t going to get- *THUMP!* He hit a tree. The same fallen tree in his path from earlier, but now he was on the other side. Something came out of the bushes… it was…
Some kind of dog?
It was getting closer, and it was bigger than he thought. “Not a dog! NOT A DOG!” Lunging right at the Italian chef, the canine bit into his shoulder, and bit down HARD.
“EEEEEYAEAEAOEOEOW!”
In desperation, Peppino punched at its sharp fangs, and it let go almost immediately. After one last snarl toward him, the beast ran away. Peppino was scared, but he had to get back home…
~~~~~~~
Finally, he was back at his apartment… he could get some sleep at long last. The best he could do for dinner was a few leftovers-
“…idrat onroT?”
Ah. That’s right. He wasn’t exactly alone in that apartment anymore.
After the destruction of the tower, a few of its denizens fled to the city where he lived, even meeting up with him again. Faker, or Bruno as he preferred to be called, had to bunk with him, but he didn’t think it would be for more than a week.
“Yes, I know, I’m home a little later than usual. It’s not a problem, really!” Looking at his arm in curiosity, his facsimile looked… concerned. “Otiref ies. Iuq idrom.” “I… I know… just an encounter with a wild dog.” “Osopir?” “That’s what I plan on doing after I patch it up.”
Right after applying the bandages and going through his nightly routine, he got rest at long last…
But something was…
Off.
The bite didn’t hurt that much.
So why did the pain spread?
#pizza tower#pizza tower au#peppino spaghetti#werewolves#werewolf Peppino#The wolf that runs a Pizza Joint#werewolf
39 notes
·
View notes
Text
The wolf that runs a pizza joint AU, Bon-bon the were-puppy
Shirley helped to take down the decorations after the celebration of Peppino returning, not very happy about the job of cleaning after ones mess. Boom! Next thing you know, Bon-bon had bust in the door, looking cheery as always. Wait, but something isn't right.
Their ears were looking particularly like a droopy dog's, puppy nose, beady eyes, and an abundant amount of fluff. They looked more golden retriever than Themself. Wait a minute...
"Guess what darling? Funny story! I was on the way home back from the bakery with a bun in hand, and guess what happened next! A cute lil boi decided to come over and bite the treat out of my hand! Man, full moon is very bright! Hey look a ball!"
She immediately ran towards the object, getting stopped by a hand that was summoned by none other than Shirley. With a book of curses on another, stopping at a particular page, fear striking across the face, she looked in solemnly at her own parent, shaking slowly her head in dismay.
"Mom, that canine that bit you, was... A werewolf. I'm sorry mom. I could try to cure you if you want, but the sooner is better. I don't have the ingredients or the brew itself, so you need to deal with it for a while. In the meantime-"
"Wait, so I'm now a werewolf?"
"Yes, and-"
Bon-bon. They looked happy as ever. Chasing tails and all that. But they should know sometime, possibly now, that the best way to deal with it is to stay calm physically, as to not try to trigger the Labrador-like form. But it was getting late, and she knew it's past bedtime. Not to worry, her dad could possibly help deal with his beastly spouse first thing when dawn broke. She let go of the creature with great care and went straight to sleep, hoping to deal with this shit tomorrow.
@gamegem92 if you are reading this I hope this is canon in the au u are doing! I tried to expand the concept a bit to my oc, Bon-bon. I hope you like this short fanfic.
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
Wishful Thinking: Weak Hero Characters Edition (My Imagination of Their Careers)
Edited for typo (Nobel)
I hope that Sieun (Gray) and Baekjin (Donald) will be the future mathematicians of Korea, solve new math problems and publish them academically. Maybe they will get a joint Nobel prize one day...and I hope Sieun will still ride a motorcycle!
I hope that Teo (Teddy) will run an animal shelter or pet shop. Not sure but maybe if he studies hard enough he could be a vet! Aja aja, Teo!!
I hope that Juntae (Eugene) will work in an NGO and help solve local social infrastructure problems. Maybe if he studies hard enough he could get a degree in engineering.
I hope that Juyang (Rowan) will use his Australian and Eunjang experiences to run a successful Youtube channel and become a great influencer.
I hope that Humin (Ben) will maybe try for the U-21 soccer team, and if that's too late for him I hope he could do whatever he's happy about (maybe open a popular pizza shop?). Or maybe he could join Juyang's channel.
I hope that Gayool (Gerard) will try singing again professionally, whether as a solo artist or in a band. And that he will be happy about it.
I hope that Hyuntak (Gogo) will try for a career in boxing. I hope he'll never, ever give up on his dreams.
I hope that Pilyoung (Philip) will become a successful businessman, but an ethical one. He's rather good as a political lobbyist too.
Whatever it is that Seongje (Wolf) wants to do I hope it's not criminal. I hope he has a hobby that he could expand into a business.
I hope that Hwangmo will find his own independent way and not just follow Seongje around anymore. I hope he'll stay friends with Jeongyeon (Jack) and Naksung. He's rather good in making friends...another person with a prospect as a lobbyist!
I hope that Hakho (Jake) will be a professional manga critic or maybe cosplayer. And occasionally play basketball or soccer with his friends and maybe Jihoon (Jimmy).
I hope that Jihoon will try to draw again and not afraid to show it to people. Maybe sketch more. Go and take a drawing course, dude. Manhwa artist as a career might be just for you...ehehe.
I hope that Sehan (Forrest) and Seungjin (Myles) will do something else other than gangster stuff.
On that note, I hope that Gongsam (Grape) can eat as many grapes as he wants. Maybe try making grape juice and sell them, or maybe a winery? Hmm.
I hope that Hyukjin (Dean) can eat as many bread as he wants and maybe try a career in modelling. His looks and drip are too good to waste. Or a gamer hehe.
I hope that Taegi (Timothy) will try a career in game development or business analyst. Gotta make use of that statistical analysis skill.
I hope that Seokhyeon (Kingsley) will find whatever he wants to do other than running the Union behind the scenes. I suspect that he might be interested in politics.
I hope that Hyoman (Colton) will find his strengths other than fighting. And this time with a better approach to life and friendships.
I hope that Seongjin will watch Gayool performing on stage again as a fan. And that he will enjoy Gayool's new music as much as he enjoyed his old one.
I hope that Dongha and Seongmok will find a great way to stay friends without hurting each other or other people. Maybe Dongha should model for a shampoo.
I hope that Jeongyeon (Kang) will be able to go to karaoke with Jihoon again, but this time with other people who also love singing! Maybe Gayool, Naksung, Seongjin, people who used to be his enemies. And I hope he will find something peaceful to do ( traveling?).
#weak hero webtoon#weak hero manhwa#weak hero#weak hero thoughts#weak hero rant#yeon sieun#gray yeon#na baekjin#ben park#park humin#go hyuntak#alex go#jin gayool#gerard jin#wolf keum#geum seongje#eugene gale#seo juntae#joo hwangmo#jimmy bae#bae jihoon#jake ji#ji hakho
70 notes
·
View notes
Note
Considering my Werewolf!Peppino AU (The Wolf that Runs a Pizza Joint), do you think if there was a similar concept for Sugary Spire, would Pizelle be a werewolf (or other lycanthrope) instead, or still Peppino/Pizzano?
Now I know that because Sugary Spire's a swap AU it should be Pizzelle... BUT.
(Pizzelle included still lol)
45 notes
·
View notes
Text
Waking up in Beacon Hills - pt. 25
* Summary: The Nogitsune is gone. But so is Allison. Even away from Beacon Hills, Kara can't move forward. Set after Teen Wolf season 3, episode 24.
* Previous parts: can be found here.
* Warnings: grief after a major character death, swearing, drinking, violence.
* Gifs: not mine, credit to the owners/creators linked here: One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven
* Word count: 3.9k
When you get anxious, you talk too much. Your mouth runs ahead of your brain, and you babble on and on towards a point, but more often, not. You think it’s your worst habit and envy people whose sentences are clear, people who can keep their shit together. People like Derek Hale.
“Thought you might need these.”
Derek hands you the bag you’d left at his place and a large coffee and sits in the sunny courtyard of the Argent’s apartment building with you, doesn’t ask stupid questions.
The Nogitsune is dead, or at least gone. You should all be celebrating. Would have liked to share a drink with Derek, maybe a meal. You can’t.
Derek clears his throat.
“I’m so-”
He decides against telling you he’s sorry, decides he’ll ask his questions another time.
“It’s important to take the full course.” he pushes the antibiotics towards you, then leaves.
*****
“Should eat something,” you say to dead air.
Chris and Isaac both nod absentmindedly.
You open the app for the pizza joint, input the usual order.
One with all the toppings for Isaac, two if he hadn’t been around for breakfast, or you didn’t hear them poking through the pantry for snacks. One sausage & mushroom, extra mushrooms on half, for her.
But figuring out the portions feels like quantum math - it doesn’t work for three. You get burgers delivered instead.
Chris watches Isaac chewing fries like they’re cardboard and tells him about his plans.
Asks gently, “Would you want to come with me?”
When you get sad, you go silent, inward. Lock yourself up and speak only when spoken to, sometimes not.
It’s quiet now. You move around the apartment with barely a sound, check on Isaac - passed out and snoring softly in her room, brush your teeth, splash water on your face. Go to Chris. Slip into his bed, pull him toward you, close your eyes and rub his back while he cries before you both fall into fits of sleep.
But your mind is so loud. Crammed full of thoughts you do your best to push away. This isn’t what you had meant, what you hoped for, when you’d been wishing to wake up in his bed.
Not now.
There are practicalities to deal with, a list of things to check off. Paperwork to be collected from the Medical Examiner, delivered to the bank and the school. Attached to an online form and sent to the private aviation company that will take her to France. Calls to make. Splitting your time between the Argent apartment and the Stilinski home, especially if Noah is working late. You go through all the motions. You try to help.
*****
“Should I go?” Isaac is watching you closely.
You tell him. Some. Enough. About what happened to you, how you never once told, kept your mother’s secret. Later, when it all came out anyway, you couldn’t look people in the eye, always wondering, do they know? Did they know then? How you’d gotten sick of the gossip at school, the furtive looks across supermarket aisles, ‘that’s her. The sister, Lily’s sister’
Tell him how you eventually left, how you’ve never gone back.
“Maybe it will help? Some distance?”
How are you so good at this? Argent wonders, days later, when you come to bed, update him on the progress of all the different plates you’re spinning. Taking care of things, only burdening him with small bits at a time, drip feeding him information he can manage. Shielding him from the world outside the front door.
“So, Stilinski called. The coroner is done.”
No. Not how. He is familiar with the mechanics of how people survive when they have to. When loss leaves it as your only option.
“Why are you so good at this?”
You look at him blankly.
“At what?”
“All this…” he gestures to the evidence. The bed you had made neat this morning, the water you’ve left on his nightstand, next to the bottle of Advil and a now half-eaten sandwich, the papers you’re holding that he needs to sign.
“I don’t know.”
Don’t tell him it’s because of him, that you’ve mentally decided only one of you can break at a time. After that first night, you curled into yourself. It’s not your turn.
“Argent, when do you want to leave? I need to book the flights.”
*****
A late night trip with Isaac to Walmart for photos. Affidavits written and applications for guardianship stamped, and a rush order on a passport.
Not yet.
Stiles and Scott text you and Isaac comes in to show you, too. They’re all going to the woods to hang out, to say goodbye to her.
You reply, tell them you’ll drop Isaac off.
Making sure they’re fed, helping them pack their bags, watching stupid TV but not laughing along like you used to.
No one sits in her spot.
*****
Not in front of him.
Gather up the piles and go down to the laundry room with Chris. Half way through sorting, you look up, see his frozen, bloodshot eyes staring at the t-shirt Isaac had been wearing. Slashed and stained red brown.
You take it from his hands, stuff it in the trash, tie the strings and take the bag to the dumpster.
Back to Walmart, the boy doesn’t have enough clothes.
*****
The three of you don’t stray too far from each other, make sure you’re always aware of where the others are. Chris is coping. Cries, but only at night, so Isaac won’t hear. It seems to happen less and less. You think it’s a good thing, as you leave to run errands and visit Stiles.
It isn’t.
You take Isaac to the Preserve to meet the others, remind him to text if Scott or Stiles can’t give him a lift back.
When you arrive home, Chris appears agitated and is frantically searching through the office.
“What are you doing?”
He walks straight by, like you don’t exist. Unseeing, unhearing, into the bedroom and upends your duffel onto the covers.
“Hey!”
“Where is it?”
“Where’s what?”
He rounds on you, grabs your elbows and backs you up against the dresser. You see now that he’s been searching for solace at the bottom of a bottle.
“You said the Winchesters... They’ve brought people back.”
He steps closer, crowding you, his breath sour sweet from whiskey, his fingers digging into your flesh. You stare past him with your insides flipping,
He’s scaring you.
“It’s not in any book.”
He grunts, scanning your face for lies. Your entire nervous system kicks into high gear - fight or flight - and you wait for it, the slap or the punch you think is coming.
“I wouldn’t tell you how, even if I knew.” you lift your chin defiantly. Even with your heartbeat thumping like an earthquake your brain works - calculating that he’s drunk and if needed, you could take him.
“Please.” His anger evaporates into tears.
He looks down, frowning when he sees his own hands tight around your arms. Releases his vice like grip and drops onto the bed.
“No, Chris.”
“I need it.”
“You wanna make a deal? Bring her back, make her live without you? Huh? You’d make her carry that?”
He hangs his head, collapsing under the weight of it.
“I can’t do this.”
“I know,” you exhale, let him reach his hands out, pull you to him, press his head against your stomach, “but you have to.”
You wait till his breathing evens out, but your guard is up when you tell him to go have a shower. Isaac’s dad was a drunken asshole. You won’t let that around him.
*****
Sneak up to the rooftop with a pack of cigarettes. Smoke too many to calm yourself and pray again to Samandriel. Think you did it wrong. He doesn’t come.
Isaac texts to say he’s spending the night at Scott’s.
*****
The apartment is empty when Chris finishes in the bathroom, scrubbed clean and freshly shaved. He expects you’ve gone and knows he deserves it.
So it’s hopeful, disbelieving eyes that track your return to scoop your things back into your bag. He braces for your departure, but you drop the duffel on the floor and crawl into bed. He’s scared to move, scared you’ll leave. Barely breathing.
“Don’t…don’t ever put your hands on me like that again.”
“I’m sorry. I won’t.”
You scratch through his still damp hair and he moves closer.
“Never.”
“Promise.”
In the morning, while you’re making breakfast, Chris drains the bottles down the sink.
You visit Stiles, watch as he dismantles his crime board, and agree it’s a very good idea when he says he wants to clear his head.
Let him talk it all out, the Nogitsune, the memories, how close he’d been to letting the illusion take over.
Hold his hand and take a nap together until the Sheriff nudges you awake. Try not to kick Stiles in the face as you get up to join Noah for a drink. Promise him you’ll stay in touch, and mostly mean it.
*****
Text Stiles, text Scott, text the Sheriff, text Derek. Say goodbye.
Take Isaac and Chris to the airport, get their luggage out of the back seat and slip Isaac a preloaded visa. Remind him, if distance doesn’t work, he can always come home. Hug him tight.
“Are you sure you can’t come with us?”
“Sorry, I can’t.”
“She’s got work to do.” Chris says, you’ve let him think you have a plan.
He hugs you too, kisses you. You miss them before they’re through security.
Just a little longer.
Drive for 5 hours ‘till it feels like far enough, until your thigh feels like it’s on fire.
Find the shittiest motel you can and pay less than you were expecting for a week.
Lock the door and climb into bed. Lay down into your pain.
Now.
You crack. It’s your turn.
Allison.
*****
The parking lot of the Truckee Olympic Park Motel 6 has been your view for the last seven days.
Chris and Isaac are in France, all traces of jet lag probably long gone.
You get all of your meals from the diner next to the motel, leaving only long enough for the maids to service the room. Scurry back to your door, to squirrel away and eat with the curtains drawn.
Or across to the gas station on the other side of the street, middle of the night, to buy cups of gritty coffee that’s only marginally better than what you could brew from the foil packets in the safety of your room, if only you had the energy.
You avoid the curious glances from the other guests and staff and when the kind waitress begins to recognise you, calling your order out to the cook without you having to speak, you realize you need to leave.
But not yet. You’re waiting.
Crawl back into bed, clutching a small leather glove.
*****
Nothing is happening, and you are livid.
What was the point? Of all of it - hunters and Void spirits and werewolves and dark-haired girls who get run through by swords.
Of any of it? If you couldn’t bring her here, manifest something. The jacket slung on the back of a chair moves slightly. You take it as a sign. Cave and call for help.
*****
N.W.A. streams from car speakers, and you race to the window to see Garth pulling up.
He greets you with his usual bear hug, but you cut the chit chat short, leaving him frowning.
“You brought it, right?”
“Yeah,” he produces an EMF meter from his pocket, “You should probably get one.”
“I know.”
You’re tetchy and impatient as Garth configures the machine and wanders around the room.
“So what’s the deal?”
He sweeps it over the bed, where Allison’s glove sits.
“Think you’re being haunted?”
You peek over at the screen, pray the needle moves, will it to jump, just shift even a tiny bit. It doesn’t, and the fact brings a flood of tears.
“No,” you sob, “I’m not haunted.”
Garth guides you to sit at the rickety table, hands you a fistful of napkins he finds littered about and wraps an arm around your shoulders.
When your crying has slowed to hiccups and sniffs, he moves to sit across from you. Begins asking questions, trying to drag the truth out. You’re not meaning to be secretive, you just can’t make yourself say the words.
Garth speaks slowly, keeps his tone gentle and calm. You figure out why when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror - you’re a mess.
Had forgotten to shower. Your hair is somehow greasy and dry at the same time, sitting flat in lank strands. Usually, you collapse into bed without bothering to change, so your clothes have become creased. You think about it and realize they might be the same ones you arrived in.
You haven’t seen proper sunlight in a while, and only manage to sleep for a handful of hours at a time, then read old messages from Allison until your phone’s light makes your eyes hurt. So you stare out with haggard eyes, rimmed with dark circles.
He asks about cold spots.
“I’m not a case, Garth.” you snap, meaner than he deserves.
“Well…what then?”
“I’m...”
Waiting.
Grieving.
Running.
“…just having a bad day.”
*****
Garth leaves, after you’ve showered, and treated him to pancakes as an apology for dragging him all this way just to bitch him out. It still takes a lot of convincing.
You thank Carol, the waitress, leave a fifty under your plate and linger in your room a few more hours, till you know the office is closed and you can drop the keys in the box without conversation.
Gas up the car, head east.
*****
Life passes you by in a series of useless numbers. Counting how many miles to the next motel, the gap between getting a text from Stiles and replying, the time ticking on until you go to bed.
Try to keep to a reasonable schedule so you don’t feel so lost. Fake a smile at people you encounter and mask yourself with politeness.
You know how to do this, to pretend. To be good. Like there’s someone watching, keeping score, who will decide you’re worthy of a break in the pain and the guilt and the shame. Some days you want to spit it all out onto strangers. It’s bullshit. It’s all you’ve got. So you just stay quiet.
Somewhere after Salt Lake, but before Omaha, you’ve stopped crying, given up your begging. You feel nothing, but it doesn’t scare you. Nice to be empty. Too easy to sink into it, the familiar way of shrinking yourself. Raise no red flags, pique no one’s interest. Move around undetected, untethered.
*****
You think it’s days later, but it’s been weeks. Garth calls, asks if you will lend a hunter a hand in a town just outside of Minneapolis. Check the map, zoom in on the roads you’ll take and calculate.
“I’ll be there by 9.”
It’s a nothing job, one wraith against four people. Just something to do, split up the days.
You shake their hands and decline their invitations of a drink. Jump back in your car and keep heading east, no destination in mind.
*****
Arrive in Illinois and remember, you’d always wanted to visit the places Mohammed Ali had lived and trained. You don’t manage it.
Lay on a lumpy mattress in another musty motel and let your thoughts swirl. All time ever does is pass, and all you can do is think. Puzzle over your memories to find the turning point, as if it matters, as if you can go back.
*****
Maybe it was your 16th birthday, when it all went wrong?
Vibrating with excitement all day at school, laughing with your friends, thanking them for the cards they’d made you. Bashful inquiries to the boys, checking they’re coming to the party on Saturday. And Luke? He’s still coming?
Walking home in the rain, bundled up and glad to enter the house where the fire is on. Mum is in the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on your cake. There’s a family dinner planned, just the three of you, like always.
But Lily doesn’t show. No phone call, no answer on her landline. So you wait, and wait. She has to catch a train from the city and then a bus over the hill, after all.
You check the website for train cancellations while Mum is ringing Lily's flat over and over. They haven’t seen her. She’s most likely on the way. Calling her friends from high school, maybe she got distracted, waylaid at the station.
Finally, Mum dials 111 with shaking hands and a mouth full of apologies. She’s sure it’s all a misunderstanding, but you never know. Right? Better safe than sorry.
You didn’t ever really feel safe again after that.
*****
No, not then. Surely, it was later, when you’ve put it behind you (mostly), don’t flinch as much at her name or loud noises.
Years spent building a life for yourself where you’re no longer defined by the loss of your sister, not stained with everything that happened after. Your boss calls you into her office and tells you there is a Police Officer in the lobby who needs to speak with you, and couldn’t get in touch any other way.
A face you pinpoint from your hometown, plumb your memory for his name and feel the hope rising.
“Sergeant Nelson? Did you find her?”
“No, sorry. I’m not here about Lily.”
“Oh.”
You take him to the break room, make tea and let him speak. Hear him say your Mum is sick, explains how she asked him to track you down.
He keeps in touch with the families of the cold cases. Any other time, any other person, you’d think he was kind.
“I don’t want to see her.”
Feel all your protective layers coming off you, pulling you backwards to that ashamed, defenseless little girl sitting in a police station begging them to leave you alone. You don’t want to lay charges, they’re just making it worse. Nelson, the other officers, and the social worker all tell you it’s not up to you.
“I understand,” he nods. “Only said I’d try.”
Try to bring at least one of her daughters home; a small favor for a dying woman.
*****
Not even that had done it, all the mess she’d left you to deal with. Knotted up on the inside with strings of missing her and hating her. The burden of funeral arrangements, and lawyers, and coroner’s reports. You accept your boss’s offer of a week of bereavement leave, though you tell her you’d only need a few days, so optimistic.
But you barely made it halfway up the driveway before your breath turned to dust in your lungs. You grabbed your best friend’s arm.
“Can’t do it. Reuben, I can’t go in there.”
“All good.”
He’s not thrown by the hysteria on your face, takes you back to your flat where you eat mince and cheese pies for dinner and he texts his girlfriend, Priya, to join you after work.
She brings wine, and you both get buzzed while she helps you make a list. They take over, and you love them for it.
They sort everything - send emails, make calls, arrange between them who will accompany you to all the appointments, and by the end of the week it’s like your mother’s death had never ripped through your meticulously curated life.
The house is paid off, you could sell it if you wanted, the solicitor advises, but you direct him to keep it. Divide the inheritance in thirds, one for you, one in an account for maintaining the property and the last in a trust.
Just in case. For Lily, if she ever comes back. Illogical, the lawyer thinks but draws up the papers, regardless.
Reuben calls some of his boys, quickly finds someone who will do the lawns and occasionally check the gutters for cheap, says it’s just until you decide what you’ll do with the place.
They empty the fridge, collect the mail, leave the urn on the sideboard and lock the doors after them.
You go to a party on the beach, sit with your back to the wind and try to forget about it all. Forget about her. Push aside the memories of her sneering face, spitting cruel words that hurt you more than her fists, and keep a taut grip on all your broken pieces.
On a quiet Friday night weeks later, you eyeball the stack of mail from your Mum’s. Sitting on your desk where it’s been since Reuben brought it over.
Glance at it every day, think “Gotta sort that”, as you rush off to work or the gym.
Might as well get it over with. Reuben and Priya are having a date night, and it’s too cold to go to the pub.
You watch crime documentaries as you tear at the letters. Trashing the junk and putting aside anything related to the house or the estate to send onto the lawyers. You find a handwritten envelope addressed to you in the pile and frown at the cursive writing you don’t recognise. Skim the first paragraph with one eye still on your show. Then pause the TV to re-read the first page more closely. Flip the pages and think the paper should be heavier, or scented, gold edged, for the news it contains. You pick up a tiny slip of paper that falls out from the sheets.
*****
That might have been it. The moment that your life pivoted from being kind of sad but relatively normal to whatever it is now. An impulsive choice to grab your laptop and research how to get to Sioux Falls. Note how you’ll need to fly from Wellington to Auckland, cross to the International terminal and board a plane bound for Houston. Catch another flight from there to Bismarck, connecting through Dallas. Places you know nothing about. Then you’ll need a car.
It seems possible, do-able. Stupid, but achievable. A plan to latch onto. You could resign from work, and get paid out six years’ worth of unused annual leave. Could tell them you’re off on your OE, a well-deserved holiday. The owners of your place want to sell the building anyway, something about land values and townhouses.
Money won’t be a problem, you think, looking at the eye-watering cost of flights, there’s the barely touched savings stashed away in sensible term deposits and stocks. There’s your portion of the inheritance.
You have a passport - had to get it as a form of ID so you could get your security clearance at work. But it has no stamps - you’ve been nowhere. Never really done anything. You could. Other people do it, travel, explore. Nothing here for you any longer, nothing to stop you, keep you in this town, no family left.
Dig out your credit card while you consider it and hedge your bets. Decide that even if you don’t get to South Dakota, you can still cross some things off your bucket list.
It took less than half an hour to book everything. Insane, really, that just a handful of keystrokes changed the entire momentum of your life.
4 notes
·
View notes
Photo
Funnier in hindsight when you take Noise being a therianthrope wererat into account.
(in my The Wolf that Runs a Pizza Joint AU. As opposed to lycanthropes having transformations based on the moon, therianthropes can change whenever the heck they want.)
idk just have this
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
Gator Country
The day started off with a visit to Buffalo Tiger Air Boat tours. The outpost is on the side of a highway running straight through the everglades and within native land. Fearful of the direct sun, us white boys did the most sensible thing upon arrival, and hastily reapplied sunscreen before signing in for our tour.
Our guide was a man named Garrett. Muscle shirt, tattoos, tanned to hell, scruffy unkept beard, and who immediately lit a cigarette upon arrival. His aunt appeared to run the joint, and he remarked about how the Feds seem to do nothing right. We speculated on his political affiliation.
Not without merit, Garrett informed us of his Miccosukee (and Scottish) heritage and how the US government had went to war with his people, and how a clever chief managed to secure their territory by parlaying with Fidel Castro, thus making the American government eager to please.
Touring around the grassy swamp, Garrett took us to an unused historic native village that we gingerly explored. We learned much from Garrett and his self proclaimed passion for biology, from sugar apples to gator nest monitoring.
Boating around, I was eagerly hoping to see a Gator and after 15 mins of circling we found our target. BoBo, a five foot male, seemed familiar with Garrett and leisurely swam over to our boat before closing his eyes for what appeared to be a nap. Much quiet and excitement was had over the close encounter.
Driving home, the boys had to practice calming the mind amongst Miami drivers. The congestion and aggressive drivers here seem to serve as a reminder of what can happen when a city prioritizes the individual over efficient group transportation.
After a brief mishap parking wise, the lads cooled down in our icebox airBnb which seems to only have two AC settings: artic or off. We then headed out to the beach while I stayed behind to chat with Tova for a bit.
It was a hot sunny day outside, and so once the pull of the beach called, I too assembled myself. To my surprise, the boys had not taken the beach umbrella, nor beach towels, nor cooler, nor sunscreen. It had seemed the call of the beach had rushed them too soon.
Collecting these supplies, I headed out to a local grocer and obtained some cold drinks, snacks, and ice cream for the cooler. I luckily ran into Joel on my way to the surf and after some brief head turning, found the boys behind a metal box.
Much content was had over the delivered supplies. After wolfing down the rapidly melting ice cream, the lads alternated between lounging in the sun, swimming amongst the waves, and people watching. Allen unfortunately forgot about his sunglasses as he dove into the water, and after an unsuccessful search party, we accepted them as lost to the ocean.
Oddly, while searching for his black and red shades, we even found a different pair of glasses, with clear frames, as if to be a cruel tease of the big blue. Watching advertising planes and cruise ships go by, the boys eventually headed back.
Pizza was had for dinner and most of us crammed onto Blake and Allen's sofa bed to watch the Canada - Uruguay soccer match amongst picture posting of Blake's "chub". Joel unfortunately had to take his jersey off at the end when Uruguay won via penalty kicks.
Walking the art Deco walk at night, Joel messaged a potential new lady friend, an we sauntered, watching people flaunt their fancy cars, dress, and bodies. Standing along the street for a couple minutes, we watched a drag show, and I got to say, the lgbtq community knows how to party.
Derek
1 note
·
View note
Text
Risk
Pairing: Desire x Fem reader
Description: Desire takes a risk and it leads to a sweet moment together outside a bar with your friends
Warning: Marijuana use
You couldn't help but stare at Desire from afar at how beautiful she was only making you fall for her even more "You're staring again" you jump lightly turning to your friend Joe next to you following him outside where AJ, Gail, Booker, and Trinity were smoking. They pass around a joint which you accept and take small puffs, you smoked occasionally but hadn't in awhile due to the recent bouts of nonstop training and hectic matches leaving you feeling warm, fuzzy, and giggly as you walk back in grabbing water as desire turns hearing your soft giggles making her smile while holding her hand over her mouth feeling her heart pick up when she sees you sit a few feet away from her deciding to talk to you after a quick sip of a margarita since all of you were out at a bar as a big celebration for your matches at Sacrifice and since all of you had the next four weeks off after the long hours of training, traveling, and grueling matches for all of you which was an appreciated and much welcomed break for each of you, you turn when you see desire next to you striking up a conversation as unknowingly to the two of you each of your friends watch the conversation bloom. "You did damn great in the elevation match with Trin, gave her a run for her money in the middle" you shake your head with a smile trying to keep your erratic heart under control as your breathing slowly picks up when she leans her face close to you "You're not like anyone in this business, you have your own class and it's different" you smile as her eyes glaze over with a look and aura of something you couldn't place your finger on but the slight dilation of her pupils made you notice the lust in her eyes making your mind give you a boost of confidence to take the conversation in a different way "I'm just me and I will never hide who I am" she is in awe at your raw and open honesty and putting your true self on display without fear of judgement and takes the jump of risk "You're beautiful not just physically but as a human in this world" you feel your heart stop and shake at the statement as she leaned closer feeling your mind scream at the small touch between your noses watching as she looks around noticing no one paying any attention and your friends who were pretending to be in conversation. She shows a small smile at you which you returned before she closed the gap with a tamed quick kiss that left your mind a mess and your heart shaking and pounding out of control as she grabs your hand leading you outside as your friends watched until the two of you were out the door smoking the rest of the joint you put in your pocket before you went back inside with everyone else earlier, "Why do you keep growing more beautiful...no wonder I fell for you" before you could apologize absolutely stunned by your even more opened honesty from your buzzed state from the joint being pulled into another kiss turning when the two of you hear cheers, yells, and a wolf whistle turning to see your friends making you both turn 30 shades of red holding each other "Girls gone wild tonight bitches!" you flip trinity off at her response before everyone heads back in laughing yelling out when aj yells out to the two of you "Get yourselves some loving girls don't stand in the cool breeze too long" before heading back in with a chuckle while the two of you shared another kiss before heading to a small pizza place for a dinner date.
1 note
·
View note
Note
Hey Jelly.. 👀👀👀
SFW, Erwin, Shape Shifter (if optional), House, Married
Possible Plot: Shape Shifter Reader is playing pranks on her husband Erwin during Halloween
-Moth Anon
I'm just going to get silly with this and I'm probably not going to follow shape-shifting laws or anything, but I'm going for it.
Playful
Pairing: Erwin x Reader
Genre and tags: married life, fluff, romance, silly, bad jokes.
Concept: You decide to have a little fun with Erwin, your husband, and follow him around the house cracking bad jokes to make him chuckle.
This will be full of bad jokes, I am sorry.
Erwin pried his eyes open and glanced over to your side of the bed to find you missing. He rubbed his eyes and hummed in thought. He reached over and clicked the lamp on. He frowned when he heard a little hum and a giggle. He looked over at his lamp to see a pink glow, meaning you were the lamp.
Erwin smiled at you and rolled onto his side to prop his head up. "Morning, my love."
You hummed. "Oh Erwin, I love it when you turn me on."
He chuckled. "Lamp joke, I like it."
"Are you a moth? Cause I'm feeling an attraction."
He shook his head and sat up. "Happy Halloween. You going to be doing bad jokes all day?"
You jumped onto the floor and stretched your joints. "Yes."
He looked over at you. "Where is my lamp?"
You ran over to his drawer and put it back in place. "Here."
"Thank you. You ready for the day?"
You grinned. "I have plans for you!"
Erwin watched you run off. He chuckled a little. "I love that woman." He walked through the house and saw and extra skeleton. "Hey, honey."
You wiggled your skeleton arms. "What does a skeleton order at a restaurant?"
He smiled at you. "What?"
"Spare ribs!"
Erwin laughed. "Good one, but it was also bad."
You jumped onto Erwin's back and kissed his cheek a few times. "It wasn't that bad."
He sat you on the counter and made coffee for you both. "I can't wait for the next one."
You sipped your coffee as you eyed your husband. "I have so many ideas."
He leaned closer and kissed you. "I love you so much."
"Love you too, boo."
He frowned. "That another joke?"
You shook your head as you giggled. "No, I just wanted to call you boo." You gasped and turned into a ghost. "You're my boo!"
"There it is." He hummed a laugh. "Change back to you, I want some kisses."
You changed back and wrapped your arms around his neck as you kissed your husband. You smiled against his lips. "You can get all the kisses you want."
"Thank you." He pulled back and hummed. "I have a few things to do in order to get ready for our date tonight. I have everything planned out."
You hummed a laugh. "I can't wait to see what you have in mind. I'll load up the bowl of candy for the kids."
Erwin smiled softly as he set up a cosy fort in front of the tv. His plan was for you both to play some games together all day, then later it was horror movies as you cuddle. He had snacks all ready and drinks for the gaming that had a spooky theme. Dinner was going to be homemade pizza.
You did a lot around the house and Erwin wanted to take the reins and spoil you. Erwin loved your dinners and he loved how hard you worked. He was showered in your love and he gave back as much as he could. So, him taking over today meant you were bored.
He opened the closet door to get some pillows to see you as a werewolf inside. "Hey, honey. Can I get those pillows?"
You sighed and handed them over. "Not scared?"
He smiled. "You look like a cute wolf. You're really fluffy and you have such bright eyes."
You whined. "Flirt."
"So, what's your joke?"
You pouted a bit. "Are you the moon? Cause you get me howling all night long."
Erwin's cheeks burned. "Oh, oh wow. That one flustered me." He chuckled a little. "That was a good one."
You jumped into his arms as you turned into your normal self. "Love you."
"Love you too." He hummed a laugh. "My sweet silly wife."
#erwin modern au#erwin fluff#commander erwin#shingeki no kyoujin erwin#aot erwin#erwin smith#erwin x you#erwin x y/n#erwin x reader#erwin smith x you#erwin smith x y/n#snk erwin#erwin smith x reader#aot fanfiction#fanfic#jelly fanfics#spooktober#jellyspooktober
46 notes
·
View notes
Text
(Why I made him a therianthrope in The Wolf that Runs a Pizza Joint)
why does he have to be a cheese rat cries loudly
174 notes
·
View notes
Text
*The Wolf that Runs a Pizza Joint AU*
Peppino, before getting bit: I think I’d better keep walking…
*he hears the ominous squelch of a carcass being ripped at.*
Peppino, picking up the pace: Running! Better start running! Running, running…
*The rustling in the bushes was getting closer and closer.*
Peppino, starting to near Mach 4 speed: SPRINTING! YES, I JUST-A GOTTA KEEP SPRINTING! *he runs into a fallen tree.*
Peppino, probably concussed: Sitting, sitting… bleeding…
#peppino pizza tower#pizza tower au#the wolf that runs a pizza joint#pizza tower#peppino spaghetti#werewolf peppino#werewolf#source: spongebob squarepants
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
Here it is: the TMA tribute I have been working on for ages, finally rendered in color.
[ID: a full color marker illustration of the 14 (+ the Extinction) and John and Martin from TMA. The page is split into fifteen even pizza slices, each with a different entity theme. On top, glued to the page, is a pen drawing of John and Martin on light grey paper.
John leads as they walk to the right, facing away from the viewer and holding up a hand, two floating eyes helping guide his way. A large backpack mirrors the one Martin is wearing, and John holds back a hand which Martin is holding. Martin faces the viewer as he walks forward, smiling slightly. From behind him, tendrils of fog encroach and curl around his foot.
On the pizza slices, starting from one o'clock and going clockwise:
The Vast shows an open sky with distant clouds, a rope ladder swinging across the expanse as a single occupant climbs upward. Below, clouds form into the heads of a massive crowd dissapearring into the distance, each head without a face. Underneath their chins, deep blue water stretches out.
The Lonely shows a ship in greyscale with the silhouette of Peter Lukas standing at the prow. Swirling fog fills the background, and in the distance a person's silhouette stands in a wide, empty street, where vacant buildings bend toward them, fog curling around their ankles.
The Web shows several objects suspended in tangled spiderwebs in front of the silhouette of Hilltop Road. In the web is the engraved web lighter, which is open but not lit, a cassette tape, and a bottle of wine. In the lower right, a large spider perches, its limbs testing the strings of the web.
The Corruption has a background reminiscent of worm tunnels, with shifting sickly yellows, greens, and browns. On the left, a woman in dark grey robes and a surgical mask shows green mold on her skin. A few flies rest on her face, and she stares at the viewer nervously. On her right, a green molding globe is stood upon by a large housefly, and a cheery green and yellow maypole stands. Further right, massive worms, about an inch long and with one silvery side, are obscured by Jane, who is wearing a large coat and facing away from the viewer, her skin full of holes.
The Dark is shown in mostly negative space. On the top, a lightbulb dangles next to a gaping mouth full of teeth and floating pair of eyes. Below, a darkened neighborhood of small houses is shown, in the darkness behind a large wolf and long, twisting tentacles hide. The front of the piece shows Manuela's anti-sun, producing a halo of darkness around itself.
The Hunt has a background of deep green pine trees, and shows a grey wolf with a dead rabbit clutched in its jaws, blood covering its teeth and staining that rabbit's fur. In front of it, there are two drawings of Daisy's wolf form. The first is a closeup on her face, where she tilts her head up, looking at the viewer and saying "RUN." The other is a full body of her hulking form, which is skinny and twisted, tufts of fur coming out of her torn shirt.
The Flesh has a pink and red background reminiscent of intestines. At the top, John's removed rib is haloed. Twisting bodies with extra joints, distorted skin, qnd incorrect proportions are piled below, and at the front, Jared smirks at the viewer, wearing a hoodie with a jarge letter "J", which shifts with strange growths that are barely hidden beneath it.
The Stranger had a red background filled with music notes. At the top, a mannequin has a face awkwardly pinned to it's own, the holes for the eye sockets showing the blank plastic below. A carosel is partially covered by Not!Sasha, who looks at the viewer, leaning in. In front of her, Breekon and Hope look at the viewer, wearing their work uniforms. At the very bottom, the apple from anatomy class grins, next to Nikola Orsinov, who is a mannequin with only a large toothy smile and painted on blush. She is wearing a red and yellow clown outfit with a large white neck ruffle.
The Spiral has a background of bright swirling colors. At the top, a smiling stick figure holds a steaming mug of coffee, a sign next to them reading "CAN'T SLEEP?". a vase, covered with patterns, is gripped on the edge by a greying hand. In the foreground, Michael Distortion waves, opening a large yellow door, within which another bright colorful pattern is swirling. The corridor continues behind, striped in various colors.
The Buried shows a silhouette of a person drowning, bubbles escaping their mouth. Behind them, rocks are scattered, obscured by a coffin wrapped in chains with a tag that reads "DO NOT OPEN". in the distance, tunnels in the ground weave.
The Extinction shows an expanding mushroom cloud blowing out the windows of crumpled buildings, a pile of indistinguishable debris and a rotting couch outlined in front a back sky that features a shattered moon.
The Slaughter has a dark brown background which has a floating tune of music overlayed. The Toy Soldier holds a gun to the left, grinning as it faces right, where the Piper stands. The Piper has three heads, connected at the neck. The one on the left blows into the bagpipes, blood running from beneath its green helmet. The center head faces the viewer, letting out a gutteral scream and staring. Hands, clasped in prayer, hover beneath the center head. The head on the right keeps its mouth closed, but blood and dirt leak from it and drip down its chin, a final hand brought to its brow in a salute.
The End pictures a stature of a weeping angel, obscured partially by a large skull. A book behind them reads "HIS CONSIOUSNESS FADED IN AND OUT LIKE THE TIDE. HE TRIED TO RESIST...". In the top of the slice, grey tendrils curl around a heart imbedded in a ribcage. The heart, which is red, is the only color in the slice.
The Desolation has a stripe of fire flicking across it. Beneath the stripe is a grey and smoky sky behind burned and blackened tree husks. Above the flames, a hand holds a cigarette casually, which smokes. Two candles burn, partially covered by a house whose windows belch flame.
The Eye shows a grinning silhouette with an illuminated eye. Three security cameras look in different directions, overlayed on top of a manilla folder that reads "CASE #I-SEE-YOU. STATEMENT OF..." A large tape recorder waits on the right, and a camera on the left. Words next to the human silhouette read "OUR EYES ARE NEVER CLOSED. WE ARE JUDGING YOU. WE SEE YOU, WATCH YOU..." At the top center, a staring green eye looks down at where John and Martin walk in the center.
/END ID]
#tma#the magnus archives#tma s5#what do i even tag.#tma s5 spoilers#johnmartin#jonmartin#bell scribbles#live from subject
304 notes
·
View notes
Text
Okay! So, here’s the link to Chapter One
Why am I seeing the concept of werewolf peppino so much now-
21 notes
·
View notes
Text
ex’s best friend. | Wally West x F!Reader
loosely based on “my ex’s best friend” by machine gun kelly. xo
this is my first Tumblr imagine, please be kind <3, I hope you enjoy, feedback much appreciated, also let me know if you’re interested in a part two?
Masterlist | part two
w.c: 1.3k
It’s been months since Artemis and Wally came to an amicable end to their relationship. Both agreed that it was time for something new and that the spark died. Wally accepted it, and moved out from their shared apartment into Dick’s new, lavish apartment with him and Barbara. Though Wally often felt like a third wheel, especially now that almost everyone had found their better halves and he was single. Sure, he went on dates, and had those random hook ups that all kids in college had; but he never found himself someone else. Artemis had moved on, with Will — which to Wally was wild, but he never questioned it. As long as she was happy, that’s all he could ask for. Him and Artemis were still partnering in the field, best friends in and out. Their relationship seemed stronger without the mix ups of actually being in a relationship and feeling like they had to be careful about criticism. Which is why he was now getting ready for Artemis’s birthday party; she decided it was going to have a night out, Wally wasn’t against the idea. Maybe he’ll find someone.
At half past 10, Wally was at the club Artemis was hosting at. It wasn’t a rented-out kind of thing, it wasn’t anything beyond a couple of her friends, the team—the ones that were legal to drink and be there, Will and himself. He walked in, the sound of the music reverberating through his ears, his eyes glided across the club and made his way to where his party was seated; stopping to get a drink and continuing his way. “Wally!” Artemis yelled over the music, getting up and pulling him into a hug and giving him a kiss on the cheek, “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show!” She grinned and he returned it.
“You know me, fashionably late.” He gloated, a teasing smile on his lips and took a seat next to Dick, who he was actually shocked to see. As he sat, his eyes landed on Artemis’s best friend seated to her left. Wally and her were acquainted, but tonight she looked especially good tonight. (Y/C/H) fell lazily across her shoulder, and the black dress adorn her body accented all of her best assets. Wally blushed at the thought as her eyes met his from across the table; her face tinted slight red as she turned her attention to her drink and took a sip. “Dude,” Dick interjected, “you’re drooling.”
“I am not … okay maybe I am but I can’t help it.” Wally conceded, taking a sip of his own drink.
“Isn’t she Artemis’s best friend?” He asked, and Wally nodded.
“That’s what makes it complicated.” But complicated never stopped Wally, it always excited him.
It was well into the night, and though Wally couldn’t get drunk; he was able to concoct a mixture that he would drop into his drink to get mildly buzzed. He decided it was time to stop, and enjoy the night. It was about 2AM when Artemis decided it was cake time, everyone fell back into the booth. Wally took his chance to sit next to (Y/N). “Hey Wally!” She greeted, a dopey smile splayed across her face and he couldn’t help but return. “Hey (Y/N)!” He grinned, lazily resting his arm on the back of the seat behind the girl.
As the party continued, Wally and (Y/N) found themselves sitting and talking and catching up. Wally found himself growing tired of being out and was growing hungry. He glanced over at (Y/N), she seemed uncomfortable. “Hey, you wanna go get some pizza?” Wally yelled over the music; the girl’s body instantly relaxed and she nodded her head, already grabbing her things.
“God yes! I’m so tired of being here, I’m not much of a party person.” Wally grinned, and grabbed the girl’s hand and began to lead them out of the club.
(Y/N) had known Wally for a while, she had only known Wally as Artemis’s boyfriend and then her ex. She never really knew him, but she couldn’t deny that maybe she had a minor crush on the red head. He was sweet to Artemis, and he was always so kind to her when they would interact. He had a great sense of humor, plus he was easy on the eyes no doubt. Plus, he was Kid Flash but that was just icing on the cake. Sure, all of those thoughts’ broke girl code, but (Y/N) couldn’t really help it and here she was, sitting in an all-night pizza joint, watching Wally wolf down three large pizzas with various toppings and laughing at his lame — but adorable, jokes.
“So, you just left Dick there?” (Y/N) asked, laughing at the story of when Wally publicly humiliated Dick in front of his now girlfriend Barbara. “You are a terrible best friend, Wally West.” (Y/N) declared, taking a bite of her own pizza slice. “Maybe so, but he hasn’t touched my cheese whizzies since.” Wally laughed, nodding his head. “This also led to an all-out prank war between all of us; and it’s still on going.” “I helped Artemis plan some of hers, trust me; I know all about it. You are quite the little prankster Wally, I envy you.” (Y/N) had a knack for being reckless, and a knack for pranking. It was only natural for Artemis, and sometimes even Dick, to come to her. (Y/N) wasn’t a stranger to the double lives of every person she was with tonight, mostly finding all of them out on her own. Secrets weren’t unfamiliar to her, neither was lying and keeping those secrets.
“I could tell, some of those pranks were far too advanced for her to pull off on her own.” He laughed, thinking about how she lined his suit with paintballs that would obviously burst due to the small amount of friction from the suit when he was running, he was washing paint off of his skin for weeks.
“Game notice game,” Wally complimented, gesturing between him and her; (Y/N) blushed faintly, a smile playing on her lips. Wally stared at the girl for a little bit, taking in the way her dress contrasted her skin, and how her (Y/E/C) shined with mischief as she recounted the many pranks she assisted with. In the dull light of the pizza place, she looked absolutely breath taking. Realizing he had been staring for a bit too long, Wally diverted his eyes; a small blush creeping across his face. (Y/N) let out a soft yawn, trying to stifle it; she wasn’t really ready for the night to end, unsure if she and Wally would have a moment like this again, and god she didn’t want to let it end because she was tired. He’s your best friends ex, this is complicated.
“Are you tired?” Wally asked, attention back on her. (Y/N) shook her head.
“No. Well yes, but I’m really not ready for the night to end.” She conceded, biting her lip softly. “Do you, uh …” Wally rubbed the back on his neck, unsure of how to ask. “Do you maybe want to come back to my place for the night?” He asked, “that way we can hang out for a little bit, and then tomorrow morning, I can cook you some of my world-famous Wally Pancakes.” (Y/N) snorted a little bit, her smile evident.
“World famous? That’s a little self absorbed, don’t you think West?” She teased. “Well babe, be the judge of that?” He asked, hopefully. “Rock my world, West.” She agreed.
With a smile, Wally left some money on the table and led (Y/N) out of the pizza shop to his apartment. He wasn’t sure what he just got himself into, but that was a problem for future Wally.
#wally west#wally west x reader#wally west imagines#young justice imagines#young justice#dick grayson#dick grayson x reader#kaldur x reader#conner kent x reader
257 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hello, I had a really cute idea for a request if you dont mind. Since it's been lockdown and stuff could I get a Zim x S/o where they're finally able to see eachother after isolation. Bonus for fluff if that's ok with you?
This request??? Amazing. Absolute perfection. And of course there’s going to be fluff!! Chaotic and feral Zim is great, but I love me some soft Zim.
Oh, and there’s no specific age here. Could be high school, could be adults, I’ll leave that up to the reader.
Blinking furiously, your eyes eventually settled on a squint as your phone cast painfully bright light into your face. The surrounding comfort of darkness was fended off by the harsh screen you continued to stare at. Nothing had changed in the past hour, nothing new was written. You weren't sure what you were hoping for.
A simple 'FINE' within a chat bubble marked the end of your conversation. Normally, you would snicker to yourself about how he flat out refused to write in lowercase, but the anxiety gnawing at your stomach prevented you from doing so.
Sighing, you rolled onto your side, hanging half off the bed in order to plug your phone in for the night. After that was accomplished, you flopped onto your back, staring into the black abyss that was your bedroom ceiling.
Quarantine had been a lot more difficult than you had originally thought. At first it was fun, you could be as much of an introvert as you wanted and could take care of your responsibilities on your own time and schedule, for the most part anyway. But once the weeks turned into months, and those months began to increase exponentially, it became a problem. Going just a bit stir crazy was bad enough, but the worst part was being unable to see Zim.
Again, at first, you didn't think it would be such a bad thing. He tended to get a bit clingy and possessive, so you thought a little me time would do you some good. But as time stretched onward, you realized that you missed the little roach bastard more than you had anticipated.
Of course you couldn't see him, considering not only the high human-to-human spread, but neither of you were quite sure to the extent Irkens would be affected, if it would be much more dangerous for Zim than an average human. As if that factor wasn't bad enough, Zim was already a huge germaphobe, so he rejected the idea of even socially-distanced hangouts with masks and all that.
So, being responsible and considerate, you had agreed to stick to text communication. It was fine at first, and you both talked regularly. Until about a month ago. Your worries began at the occurrence of two solid weeks of radio silence. Assuming the best, you waved it off as maybe he went to space and therefore couldn't get Earth cell reception. Finally, he had contacted you again, but brushed off any questions regarding the period of being off the grid. However, any response he gave you was short and simple, often a yes or no without elaboration, even to prompts where those answers weren't even valid.
This is where the unease began. Your mind began to run rampant with thoughts on the matter. What if he had gotten tired of you? The reasonable person inside of you told you that if that was indeed the case, then his loss, but that didn't mean you had to be happy about it. Just when you would convince yourself everything was fine, you managed to come back with something else, always a variation of the last negative thought. What if he had realized that he liked being alone, that he missed being a lone wolf soldier focused on destroying the world with no one to care about? You could never fully refute that one. After all, was a genetically modified alien soldier truly content being tied down by something such as a relationship?
The only thing that brought you any solace was that he had reached out to you that morning, requesting your presence at his base. Things had gotten better, allowing for the two of you to meet with contact, person to person. Well, person to Irken. Of course, your brain wouldn't let you enjoy that. It just had to spin some tale that would send you into a spiral of dread. Now, as you laid in your bed, sheets bunched in your fists, you were convinced that he wished to break up with you. Well, at least he had the decency to do so in person, if that even was the case.
You wanted nothing more than to be overjoyed that you would finally be able to see him after all this time. You had become quite attached to Zim, more than you ever would like to admit. You should be filled with excitement. However, you felt nothing but a sinking feeling that made your skin crawl.
"Just...please let me have a good night's sleep, would you?" You pleaded with your mind, shifting onto your side to face your wall, letting your eyes shut tight.
(more under the cut)
-
Unfortunately, you and your brain have two very different ways of defining 'a good night's sleep'. Trudging into the bathroom to get ready for the day ahead, you couldn't hold back the massive yawn. Stretching, about ten different joints popped as you remembered tossing and turning for a majority of the night. The worst part was the two or so hour period of staring blankly at the ceiling, mind racing with ideas of nothing at all.
Staring at your reflection in the mirror revealed you to be looking like hell...and not on wheels. More like hell discarded on the side of the road next to an empty shopping bag. Dark circles rested under your eyes, which weren't only from the previous night. Your sleep schedule had been almost non-existent thanks to quarantine, some nights you wouldn't surrender to slumber until three in the morning, and other days you would succumb to sleep's tantalizing claws at four pm.
Not to mention that you could barely remember the last time you had worn anything but pajamas or sweats. Groaning, you pulled on presentable clothes, as if this was the largest inconvenience you could ever be faced with. Not that Zim would care, but you didn't want to be shown up in the outfit department by a being from beyond who wore the same saturated pink military uniform every day.
You didn't even bother to glance at the time, it wouldn't matter. Either way, Zim would most likely chide you for being late, even if you were an hour early. You weren't sure if the construct of time even existed in the reality that was Zim's mind. Now that you thought about it, you couldn't say for certain if you had even set a specific time arrangement. All you had agreed upon was to be there some time in the morning.
It didn't matter regardless, he would be there whenever you decided to show up. He hadn't left his base once for the duration of quarantine. Zim had patience when it came to being cooped up for long periods of time, you would give him that much. It was about the only time he had patience, but it counted nonetheless.
That negative feeling wouldn't cease tugging at you as you meandered your way to Zim's base, quite literally dragging your feet down the sidewalk. Occasionally, you would come across a stray stone or pinecone, and you'd strike out with a half-hearted kick, watching it skitter across the pavement.
The entire walk was forgettable, and you had made the trek enough times for your brain to transition into autopilot until you made it to the fence line. The first few times you went to his place were unsettling. Now, you were completely unfazed as the security gnomes eyed you when you padded up the sidewalk, approaching the door. Their beady laser eyes tracked your every breath, but by this point you were unbothered. Besides, you were fairly sure that Zim had put you on the white list, so they shouldn't shoot at you unless it was a direct order.
You pressed the doorbell, folding your hands neatly in front of you as you waited for Zim to answer, scrambling to get a heartfelt speech together in your head. Whatever string of words you had managed to stitch together was thrown out the window when the door swung open, revealing a very animated GIR decked out in his doggy disguise. He frantically waved a black 'paw' to you, a grin splitting his face.
"Hi, Sparky!!" He hollered in your face, greeting you with a name that wasn't yours, per usual. Before you could even open your mouth to respond, he began talking again, in very much an outside voice. A chip right off the old Irken block. "Didja bring the pizza?!" The little robot inspected your arms curiously, stepping around you to make sure you weren't hiding the greasy pie behind your back.
"I, uh, wasn't aware I was supposed to be bringing pizza." You knew this was just an instance of GIR being GIR, but you went along with it anyway. He couldn't help himself, it was just the way he was wired. Or, maybe it was the fact that his brains consisted of useless pocket junk. It didn't really matter. GIR moved back to stand obediently in the doorway, you peering around the frame to see if Zim was anywhere to be found. He wasn't, which only made the nerves worse. Despite your worry, you kept your voice even and neutral. "May I come in?"
"Mhm!" He hummed, jumping aside to let you in. You closed the door behind you, standing around awkwardly for a moment before turning back to GIR, who was already shimmying out of his doggy suit.
"Do you know where Zim is?" Something seemed to click with GIR, however, it was not something that would answer your question. The poor robot burst into tears, which also wasn't out of the ordinary, falling face first into the floor and pounding his metal claw on the tile.
"That boy missed you so much!! He so sad, he even cried!! He loves youuu...!" He wailed, loud enough to draw Minimoose into the room who offered a soft and sad 'Nyah', seemingly agreeing with the statement. You couldn't confirm, since only Zim and GIR were fluent in the language you lovingly called 'Moosinese'. Tears continued to stream down the robot's metal face as he screamed, Minimoose resting a comforting purple nub on his back.
"Is that true?" Your response was calm, having dealt with GIR's outbursts many a time. You couldn't attest to the accuracy of his words, considering correct information was almost similar to a Russian roulette wheel when it came to GIR.
And as if nothing had ever happened, the robot immediately perked up, popping up to his feet with a smile, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. "Yep!! Master's been down in the base the whole time!! Just sittin' there all shmoopy-like!" A giggle followed, pushing his previous bout of sadness into the past.
"Nyah!" Minimoose showed you a bucktooth grin as he looked to you purposefully.
"Really? Fascinating." Again, you couldn't speak Moosinese, but still, you nodded. The purple moose appeared to be satisfied with your response, floating off to who knows where.
"You wanna come play with the piggy with me?!" GIR bounced up and down, eager to drag you off to roll around on the floor and have a tea party with whatever pig he had brought home this week.
"Maybe some other time, GIR." You weren't opposed to spending time with the little robot, but he wasn't exactly who you were here to see. He didn't seem offended, all he did was shrug his metal shoulders.
"Okie dokie!" He brought his claw up to his forehead in a salute, turning away from you and making a mad dash to the kitchen. You heard a noisy metallic clang echo from the kitchen, and you didn't need to witness the event to visualize GIR smacking face-first into the cabinet.
"Careful, GIR! My milk squid experiment is in there!" A familiar voice rang out from the kitchen, and two immediate questions sprung to mind. The first was why in the name of anything would you keep milk in the cabinet (even if it related to a squid)? The second being just what in the hell had he been doing all this time?
The whiny complaints had quieted to low grumbles as just the alien you wanted to see paced into the living room, eyes cast downwards, antennae drooping. The words that had been forming in your throat were choked into barely a squeak when you got a closer look at him. Zim still didn't seem to notice you, red bug eyes trained on the tile, hands clasped behind his back. That wasn't the surprising bit. A jacket you thought you had lost some time ago was thrown on over his invader uniform. You couldn't remember if maybe you had left it there or maybe Zim had taken without your knowledge, but either way, he was swimming in it. The sleeves were rolled up to meet his wrists, gloved hands peeking out from the fabric. Most of the jacket itself was well past his thighs, stopping just above the knee. It had been just a bit big on you, so of course it would be massive on him. You felt any unease you were feeling immediately leave at the sight. Clearly, he hadn't been enjoying the separation as much as you thought.
"I was wondering where that coat went." A chuckle slipped past your lips. Finally, Zim seemed to notice you, head snapping in your direction, antennae perking up to attention.
"Eh?" He didn't quite register your phrase, almost as if he had been wearing your coat for so long that he had forgotten it wasn't a part of his usual attire. "Y/n, I don't-" Zim looked down at himself, finally realizing why you were staring at him like that. He wriggled out of the jacket faster than you could gush about how adorable it was, throwing it forcefully behind the couch. "YOU CAN'T PROVE ANYTHING!!" He shrieked, pointing a clawed finger at you, antennae flattening against his head in curt embarrassment.
"So, you like my stuff, huh?" You asked cheekily, relishing in his refusal to look at you as he unknowingly clutched the hem of his invader uniform, scuffling his boots on the tile. You couldn't help but snicker. It wasn't often Zim would let himself be sheepish, since he normally knew nothing of shame.
"Nonsense!" He waved a hand dismissively, eyes still refusing to meet yours, although without his contacts, it was a bit hard to tell where exactly he was looking if his head wasn't turned. Crossing his arms tight to his chest, he wracked his brain for possible excuses. "I was just, er, working on repairs and didn't want to get my clothes dirty! Yes! I found this filthy piece of clothing and figured it would suffice." You rolled your eyes, knowing full well he would never admit to the true motivations behind his actions.
Lucky for you, someone else chimed in to voice your exact thoughts. "That's a lie." The computer spoke up from nowhere in particular, monotone voice bringing a growl to rise from Zim's throat.
"YOU'RE LYING!! There is no evidence of this!" The Irken jabbed a claw up towards the direction of the many cables and wires strung across the ceiling. This wouldn't be the first time you've witnessed him get into a spat with his computer. They could be quite entertaining to watch, actually.
"Proof." The computer said in a matter-of-fact tone, the gargantuan TV screen buzzing to life, static clearing to reveal a recording of internal base camera feed. The date was in Irken, but you were wise enough to surmise that it was from some time over the quarantine.
The screen displays Zim begrudgingly wandering over to the voot cruiser in the hangar. In the video feed, he looks decently depressed, antennae slack and hanging limp, posture slouched. He climbed into the ship, looking for something. Whatever it was, his search came to an unresolved end as he lifted your jacket from the seat. Apparently, you had left it in there the last time he had taken you for a flight. His eyes darted around to make sure he wasn't being watched, slipping on the coat and hugging his arms to his chest. The sleeves extended well past his hands. He brought them to his face, sniffing them. A delighted smile ghosted his mouth as he rubbed the sleeves against his face.
"Why would you record that?!" His voice cracked at the end, and you were trying your best to hold in a laugh as the TV faded back to static for a split second before opening on another instance.
This time the video depicted GIR and Zim sprawled out on the couch, watching something on the TV. Zim was wrapped in your coat as if it were a blanket, seeming to be content enough with it. GIR had reached out a claw for the article of clothing, wishing to share. Zim hissed, yanking the coat away from his grip, swiping a clawed hand out like a cat. Clearly, he wanted it all to himself.
This time you couldn’t stop yourself from laughing. You tried to apologize, especially since the Irken standing next to you looked absolutely horrified. You were sure he felt his dignity had just faded away right along with the video feed.
"Oh, and my personal favorite." The computer added helpfully as yet another recording presented itself on the TV. This one was a bit tougher to make out.
Zim was down in the depths of the base, and much was dark, the only light being cast from a large monitor just off screen. You were able to see Zim, sitting on the floor, sporting your jacket. He stared longingly at the sleeves that covered his hands. After a moment he shoved his face into his arms and knees as tears slipped down his face. You could only make out the tears due to the light being thrown from the monitor, making them glisten like jewels. Separation appeared to be much harder on him than you had thought. Maybe that was why he had been ignoring you, although it seemed counterproductive. It was possible that texting you made him miss you more.
Zim was not amused in the slightest by this particular clip. He stamped his foot on the tile, making frenzied cutting motions with his arms.
"COMPUTER!!!" His voice was high in volume, but a nervous chuckle laced each syllable. "I think that is quite enough!"
The computer groaned, cutting the feed back to static, eventually switching the TV off completely. "I was just trying to be accurate."
"You only seem to care about accuracy when it is of no benefit to Zim!!" You could only imagine what was going through Zim's head in the moment, because from the outside, he was a ball of red hot rage. However, the computer was having none of his antics, going dormant once more.
"Zim? You're up here." You raised a hand above your head to indicate his anger level. "I need you to be down here." You lowered your hand to your abdomen, knowing that was a complete stretch to ask for. Especially since he was so upset he was stringing together curses in Irken. He would only speak in his native tongue around you when he was incredibly furious. His teeth were gritted tightly, foot tapping audibly on the tile.
"That damn computer." His growl was closer to that of a feral animal, and although he was calm enough to speak in English, he still required some de-escalation.
"Relax, we'll just pretend it never happened."
"Good. Forget about those recordings." His eyes were narrowed, but he was relenting his irritation.
"What recordings?" You shrugged, a smile playing at the corners of your mouth. Zim seemed appeased, and in a split second, all of his anger was gone and replaced by something else entirely. All the fight seemed to leave his body as he looked to you, red eyes softening completely when they caught your own. He seemed relieved to see you, as if being away was one of the hardest things he had been through in years.
Wordlessly, he strode over to you, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face into your chest. Soft Zim was a rare occurrence, but these moments were something you absolutely treasured. It almost made the months of isolation worth it.
You returned the action, and the second you put your arms around him, every muscle in his body relaxed. It was a bit strange, really. To have a hardened alien soldier all but melt in your arms. He wrapped his legs around you as well, clinging to you like a koala. It wasn't hard to maintain balance since he really wasn't all that heavy.
"Couch." He mumbled, his chin resting on your shoulder as his arms were draped around your neck, your own arms supporting him under his legs. A chuckle fell from your lips at his behavior. At first it seemed like he had no energy, but in reality, it was closer to him being soothed by your presence. You were about the only living creature, scratch that, the only thing in the entire universe that could ease him like this; even he wasn't sure why you had this effect on him.
"Sure thing." You walked him over to the couch, using one arm to snag your jacket off the floor before sinking down into the cushions. There was a bit of a strange smell emanating from where you sat, most likely due to GIR spilling countless snacks, messes that weren't completely cleaned up. It wasn't super potent, and in that particular moment, it wasn't one of your concerns.
As you sat on the couch, Zim remained cuddled into you. A snicker slipped out as you tossed your coat over him as if it were a blanket. At first you assumed he would protest, proclaiming that he wasn't cold, nor a weak little smeet who needs to be cared for. So when he removed his arms from you, you were bracing yourself for a lecture and/or rant. However, all he did was tuck the jacket around him better, silently snaking his arms back around you afterward.
"You really did miss me, huh?" It was a redundant question, since without even saying, you both were aware of the answer. Still, you wished to hear him say it. It would put you in good spirits.
"Your absence was...not pleasant." His voice was uncharacteristically hushed, muffled by your clothes. His words were chosen delicately, as they always were when he didn't want to admit to something that he knew to be true.
"So you missed me." The smile that was spread on your face shone through your voice.
"If that is what you would like to think." Zim made an attempt at being snarky, but any mockery in his words was half-hearted at best. Breathing a sigh, you let your head fall back against the back of the couch. You knew full well that was the best you could hope to glean from him, even in his current subdued state.
"For the record, I missed you too."
"As you should. Zim is very great." Looking down, you were met with a sight that melted your heart. The coat still wrapped around him, arms still clinging to you as if you would walk out any minute. Zim's eyes were closed as he laid his head in your lap, quiet purrs rising from his throat as your fingers absentmindedly played with his antennae. You almost thought he would fall asleep.
"I know. You're the coolest Irken I know." You may have only known one, but still. Zim was pretty amazing in your book, despite being a self-absorbed idiot at times. A pleasant silence settled over the room for a moment as you continued to twirl his antennae between your fingers.
His eyes still closed, Zim spoke again, mumbling, "Zim's next plan is to eradicate these abhorrent human pandemics." The words slurred together a bit, and although you knew Irkens to not sleep due to lack of biological necessity, whenever he was completely relaxed, he tended to get drowsy.
"Good luck with that. I support your efforts one hundred percent." Despite the first statement harboring a twinge of sarcasm, the second was completely genuine.
"Does Zim detect a hint of ridicule?" His words may have been a challenge, but not a single eye opened even a crack, not a single muscle in his body so much as twitching.
"All I'm saying is I haven't seen much progress on your original plan of eradicating the humans, and it's been how many years?"
"Quiet or I'll steal another one of your inferior human zip-cloth thingies." He may not have technically stolen the first one, but you had to make a mental note to keep track of your jackets and hoodies. Or at the very least, make sure to keep the ones you wore often out of reach. You supposed in the end it didn't really matter. You would know where to find them if they did happen to go missing. And besides, he did look rather cute in them.
#invader zim#invader zim fanfiction#invader zim x reader#zim x reader#invader zim fic#invader zim one shot#invader zim oneshot#one shot#oneshot#fanfic#fanfiction#request
248 notes
·
View notes
Text
Not Working | p. parker | part 2
Not My Gif
summary: you and peter are together but maybe it’s not working anymore
warnings: angst
note: i’m so happy y’all enjoyed the first part!! make sure you request!!
“Oh y/n! Hey, noticed you haven’t been at lunch. You sick?”
You look up from the floor you almost fell on and see MJ. You heart pounds and your chest clenches. You clench you’re jaw and beg your mind to pull itself together.
“Uh, kinda. I gotta go Mj, see ya” You wave practically running in the opposite direction. You don’t stop speed waking until you get outside of the school. You lean against the wall and breathe.
“Stop y/n! Stop crying. Don’t be fucking stupid” You yell at yourself, sobs coming out of your mouth as you support yourself against the school building.
“You’re not stupid,” a low chuckle comes from beside you. You wipe your eyes quickly and look over.
Standing there is Brad Davis. He’s got his hands in his pockets and has his head against the wall, not even looking at you.
“What’re you doing our here Brad?” You bite, arms crossing.
“Oh come on. Don’t be mad at me. We’re in the same boat here Y/n/n.” He finally looks at you, shrugging.
“What are you talking about?”
“Peter and MJ, it’s obvious. They’re in love and we’re the suckers who fell for them. Me and you are in the same position. You love Peter but everyone knows he’s got heart eyes for her and I love MJ but we all know she’s got heart eyes for him. It sucks doesn’t it? Looking at someone you love, knowing they don’t feel the same, knowing they’re gonna choose someone over you” He looks at the ground then back at you.
“We’re not the same, you were an asshole to Peter on the trip. I’m his bestfriend.” You laugh coldly then lean back against the brick wall.
“Ok so i directed my anger towards Peter but that doesn’t mean anything. I know you and peter broke up, I heard him say it. Since you guys broke up, I’m guessing you don’t have any friends anymore?” He looks at you but you don’t say anything. “Exactly. You wanna go get actual lunch?” He lightly smiles at you.
“With you?”
“Well yea, I know a good pizza place not too far from here”
You chew your lip debating your options. It would be good to get out of school and get some food since you threw yours away. On the other hand this is Brad Davis, supposed to be Peters enemy, but he doesn’t seem that bad. You look back at the building and nod, looking back at Brad.
“Then follow me new friend” He smiles at you, beginning to walk away from campus.
-
“No way, you didn’t!” You laugh trying not to spill pizza grease on your jeans.
“No i totally did, he was so pissed when he got back. His face was priceless.” Brad laughs with you, continuing his story.
“ya know Brad, you’re not that bad. Don’t know why everyone hates you.” You wink sipping your water. For the first time in days you’re smiling, genuinely smiling. Brads hilarious and has lots of stories to kee you entertained.
“It’s been rough, everyone came back from the blip different, and I get it but you can’t be angry the world changed around you.” He shrugs and finishes off his pizza.
“Ok, hurry up and finish, It’s my turn to take you somewhere,” You smile at the boy in front of you.
You both stand and walk out of the pizza joint, walking closer than you did on the way here. You lead the way to a small park. You both sit on the swings and continue talking. Conversation was easy with Brad, it wasn’t forced or awkward like you thought it’d be.
“Thank you y/n”
You look up in surprise. “For what?”
“Understanding me. No ones gave me a shot yet, but you did. You are” He smiles at you, showing his white teeth. You smile back and mutter a reply. You both sit and lightly swing in comfortable silence for a minute before a phone ding comes from his phone.
“Schools almost out, I should get us back before the rush of people gets out.” Brad stands and stretches. He lends his hand to help you out of your swing. You take it but neither lets go as you whine, walking back towards Midway. You keep talking and joking around until you reach the main doors.
“Hey, here’s my number, text me when you make it home.” Brad hands you a piece of paper with his number on it. You take it and nod quickly. You look up at him and notice the blush rising in his face. “Catch ya later y/n.” He waves walking off towards his locker. You wave back and walk to yours.
“Y/n! There you are, we’ve been calling and texting when we can. Where’d you go?” Ned says standing at his locker near yours.
“I uh, went to the nurses office. Had a bad headache.” You smile lightly at your old friend, grabbing your books and bag.
“Well, my parents aren’t home so I was gonna have a movie night with everyone, you’re invited if you wanna come.” He smiles at you.
“I’m sorry ned, i don’t know if I can, it’s just seeing Peter is a little hard right now. Rain check?” You awkwardly smile and walk away.
You try and make it home as quick as possible. Once you finally do, you get most of your homework done quickly. As you’re changing into more comfortable clothes, you find the paper with Brads number and decide to text it.
718-322-5476
hey brad, it’s y/n.
hey y/n
i’m assuming you made it home safely?
yep. except for the creepy guy that kept staring at me on the train :/
ew gross, how about on monday, i ride the train home with you
ya know to protect you from creepy guys
oh that sounds awesome :)
You continue texting brad and before you know it, it’s 8pm already. You facetime Brad as you cook dinner and pretend you’re on a cooking show, he’s making jokes throughout making you laugh.
As soon as you finish dinner and say goodnight to Brad, you get a knock on your door. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion, who could be at your door at 9:20 at night.
You walk towards the door and open it, seeing Peter.
“Y/n”
“Pete, what’re your doing here?” Your body straightens you and your breathing picks up.
“I came to check on you. I should’ve earlier but I know how much you like your space and i-“
“Peter, i’m fine. I told you it’s okay.”
“I know but, i just wanted to make sure. Ned said you didn’t wanna come to movie night.”
“Because I don’t really wanna spend my friday night watching you and MJ awkwardly dance around me and each other. Look, I get this is weird but I think it’s best for everyone if we both do our best to move past it.” You sigh, leaning on the door threshold.
“Yea, you’re right. For what it’s worth, i’m sorry. I do love you but everything’s all messed up right now.” Peter smiles before stepping away from your apartment.
You sigh and close the door, walking back to your room and picking up your phone.
baddie brad 💅🏼
Peter just showed up at my door :(
what
what’s he want
to check on me i guess, said he’s sorry
that’s nice i guess, you good tho?
yea, i’m fine
thanks brad i’m gonna head to sleep tho, i’ll talk to you in the morning?
of course, goodnight y/n
goodnight brad
taglist: @cyrusandhiscollaredahirts @silver-winter-wolf @just4muggles @randomtrashpanda
#imagine#tom holland#tom holland imagine#marvel#spiderman#peter parker#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#spider man: homecoming#tom holland stan#tom holland x reader#tom x reader#brad davis
238 notes
·
View notes