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scribbleseas · 1 year ago

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in love & in war, drabble 2: the one where you meet him

Description: Join Ciel, the Earl of Phantomhive, as he embarks on one of the most difficult challenges of his professional life: getting you to fall in love with him in order to become the next chairman of TransAtlantica— your father’s vast shipping empire.

Warnings: None, save for some explicit sexual content down the line! This is just a lighthearded series for fun! Think Bridgerton :)

Author’s Note: I’m sorry for the wait! I dropped this series premiere and academia decided to just become torture from then until basically now! But now I’m a bit more free to get some writing, and hopefully I can get my content consistent again! I’ve missed you all so much. I hope you guys like this drabble! I wrote it in one sitting so I will probably make some edits/additions down the line, you know how it is lol.

Also, if you would like to be put on a taglist for my fics, please comment and I will tag you for each update! Or if you only want to follow specific fics, you can let me know in your comment and I will make individual taglists for each fic :).

Happy Reading,

Dan <3

⇐ PREVIOUS DRABBLE | NEXT DRABBLE ⇒

MASTERLIST

Y/N Y/L/N

“You filled my entire dance card?” you lamented, feeling your resolve crumble as you scanned over the small piece of cardstock paper’s lineup of 20 names, each aligned with a planned piece from the ensemble: Lord Alexis Cuthbert, Mr. Nigel Crawford, The Honorable Geoffrey Wilson… The list included a plethora of noble lords and heirs to either significant corporations or well-respected aristocratic bloodlines.

“That is in accordance with the terms of the deal, yes,” your mother insisted, simpering at you while Daphne hooked long diamond teardrops in your ears, set in gold to match the thick necklace resting on your chest. “There were many house calls made about this specific inquiry, and they were all qualified young men.” By the tone of her voice, you could tell she felt she was doing you a favor.

But truly, meeting a man during a dance was excruciating. There was no respectable escape if the conversation was painfully dry or offensive. All you could do was pray for the ending measure of the music and make a swift exit.

You sighed, turning your attention back to the list: Mr. Jack Morrison, Lord Clarence Abery, The Honorable George Ackland…

“I understand. Thank you,” you surrendered, knowing fully well that there was no changing this list without disrespecting those on it already. You were fortunate that your parents were giving you the freedom to choose your suitor in the first place. Most of your peers had been betrothed since their birth, promised to a relative or a family friend as one half of a smart match.

Mr. Neil Gayton, Lord George Cuross…

You were the Earl of Richmond and founder of TransAtlantica’s only child. That was two inheritances—even if you couldn’t assume all control. Your positions should have locked you into a smart match from the start, but your parents decided to give you a chance at a love match, too. A chance at finding real love just as they did: through a cultivated list of requirements.

As painful and awkward the prospect was, it certainly wasn’t the worst outcome for a woman in your position.

“Lord Ciel Phantomhive?” your eye caught his name before you could properly descend through the list because you couldn’t believe it was there of all places. You knew the Lord Phantomhive to be incredibly private, skipping most if not all social gatherings and public appearances. The public rumored that he guarded his appearance closely because he was one of Her Majesty’s advisors and private investigators. You were most accustomed to seeing his name in stately cursive at the bottom of correspondences with your father and his associates.

“His butler called on his behalf the other day,” Daphne answered for your mother, smiling apologetically for interjecting. “He said he will be attending the charity ball tonight and wishes to meet you.”

“He is more than qualified and interested,” your mother said, “your father has always liked him.”

“Father likes his business strategy, no one knows him,” you answered, letting the dance card fall from your wrist limply. There was no merit in analyzing the names on it— you knew there was no escaping the evening.

Your mother rolled her eyes, unwilling to engage with your technicalities. “Come now. Our guests are trickling in. We should greet them with your father,” she offered her arm to you. You accepted, allowing her to guide you out of the suite with Daphne in tow. Whenever TransAtlantica co-hosted events at the Langham Hotel, your family rented the penthouse to finish preparations without having to make a commute from the estate.

. . .

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability. Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability, Ciel Phantomhive reminded himself with every step closer to The Langham Hotel’s grand ballroom, trudging through formalities and tepid greetings in the populated hall leading to it. It was the phrase he used to justify all of this unyielding frustration at each step: listening to Sebastian as he attempted to break down the confounding science of charming a young woman into comprehensible steps, and now, burdening his already-fraught calendar with unnecessary social appearances just to put himself in Lady Y/n’s path.

Unnecessary social appearances such as The British National Society for Aid and to the Sick and Wounded in War’s annual ball in partnership with TransAtlantica—one of many charitable foundations that the shipping company partnered with. TransAtlantica covered the costs of a lavish evening and invited their extensive networks of business moguls and the aristocracy to partake in raffles throughout the formal night. All proceeds went to the medical organization, and all publicity went to the company.

Until this year, Ciel was content with having Sebastian send his regrets to TransAtlantica alongside a hefty donation to maintain goodwill. But now, maintaining goodwill with this corporation and the family behind it would no longer suffice. He needed to make a personal appearance both at the ball and in the middle of Lady Y/n’s dance card. After Y/n cooly rebuffed him after moments of light teasing Sebastian made the appropriate arrangements with one of the maids to put Ciel.

While Ciel was well aware of the stubborn reputation proceeding her, few dared take such a tone with him. And for so little. Defensive, she was! Was it such a crime to be transparent about how it was careless to step onto a street without looking both ways? If Ciel hadn’t saved her at the perfect moment— even if Sebastian orchestrated the timing — she would have been hit!

“Find Lady Y/n when it comes time for your waltz,” Sebastian reminded Ciel as they entered the ballroom, “you are only on her dance card for a single number. The point is that you make a better impression this time.” The bloody butler prodded at Ciel’s lack of romantic finesse— a talent that a sleazy demon might have in surplus. Apparently, approaching her first and taking the time to see himself onto her dance card would prove Ciel’s interest in her.

“And of course, you must remember your apology, sir,” Sebastian’s words were coated in honey, the most obvious tell of his amusement. The prospect of his master having to express his regrets. “You bruised her pride,” he explained.

In response, Ciel sent him a fleeting gaze, heavy with irritation. Exhaustion after hours of coaching and correcting, endless explanations as to why Sebastian insisted that Y/n could never connect with him properly if he failed to acknowledge her grievances.

“I will,” he answered simply, clenching his jaw at the thought of verbalizing anything along the lines of ‘I apologize.’ He never had to apologize for his actions—not ones that were truly malevolent, and certainly not ones that were decently-natured. Although it seemed the exception was for the daughters of incredibly prominent figures whom he needed to charm. So much so that Sebastian had Ciel practice the series of words in front of a mirror.

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability.

The phrase had Ciel’s shoulders relaxing into proper posture, his tense jaw relaxing with reluctance. He took a gradual inhale in, scanning the room for Lady Y/n. He found her in moments, catching her pale green gown and its gold accents shining in the warm chandelier light. She was engaged in a jubilant exchange with the wife of Selwyn Westley, the owner of a prominent watch company.

“Very good, my Lord,” Sebastian chirped, merely watching Ciel build his resolve. He’d seen the Earl tackle a number of more threatening offenses: vengeful angels, homicidal circus clowns, and corrupt monopolists with less agonizing. “There is absolutely no time to waste,” he added in reference to the rest of TransAtlantica’s suitors (they were longshot candidates, at best) as they readied themselves among their own servants. Several men’s eyes lingered on the small dance card that hung from Lady Y/n’s wrist, looking to secure a spot in the moments before the first dance started.

It was that particular thought that had the corner of Ciel’s mouth twisting upwards, satisfied. Courtship could never be left to chance. It was a strategy— a war. How could they hope to defeat him when they couldn’t even manage to get themselves in front of her?

. . .

Y/N Y/L/N

“And that’s when I told him: I think I left them in the carriage!” Inara Johnson laughed riotously, briefly touching your arm as you laughed, mirroring the young woman’s impish grin. She had been recounting a sordid story about her courtship with her husband since it seemed your mother was quite liberal in spreading the word about your season beginning. Even still, Mrs. Johnson was quite a breath of fresh air after you suffered nine suitors trying too hard to impress you.

“I can’t imagine what you could have done without a spare change of clothing!” You managed through laughs, ignoring the pinch in your cheeks after hours of simpering and entertainment. You were only about halfway through the merriment, the orchestra completing a lively movement to start transitioning to the first waltz of the evening.

You only had a few moments to find your next suitor: Lord Ciel Phantomhive.

“I should find my husband for this waltz! I certainly hope you find yours quite soon, my Lady, I’ll be looking forward to your wedding,” she chuckled, parting with you after a playful wink.

“Enjoy the night,” you nodded, unsure of how to start your search for a faceless man as Mrs. Johnson found Mr. Johnson in seconds. He’d only been paces away, engaged with your parents about something you couldn’t quite pick up.

You took another look at your card to ensure that Ciel Phantomhive was indeed your next dance partner, but just as your gaze caught his name again, the man who pulled you from the carriage approached you. The very one that you were content with never laying eyes on again.

“Lady Y/n, just the perfect timing. Were you looking to join this waltz now?” He dared to ask, his sapphire eye just as breathtaking as it had been, his lips turning in the same mildly amused manner. Trying to appear aloof. “Or were you uninterested in sharing your time with the likes of mediocre destitution such as myself?” he asked, repeating the words you threw at him.

Was he trying to get a rise out of you?

You felt your face warm from his attempts as you fashioned your falling expression into a sparking grin. The future-Countess-of-Richmond-grin that you relied on so much. There was no losing your temper in this environment without mortifying your family name.

“Unfortunately, my dance card is full,” you answered with false kindness, feeling the young man see straight through your pleasant deception. That was one of the only lines a young noblewoman had to tell a man to leave her to her lonesome; it was well-known by all of polite society. “Perhaps another time. Though I really do need to find my next—” you started, starting to take a step to walk around him, but he side-stepped in your path.

“—After I saved your life last week, I thought you might find time for a dance,” he interjected, causing the remnants of your Countess smile to falter. “That’s why I had my butler secure this waltz with you.”

Your blood ran cold, your smile finally melting off your face. He couldn’t be…could he? It would only make sense, you supposed. A person astute enough to even impress your father.

“I was scheduled with the Earl of Phantomhive,” you forced yourself to answer placidly. You readjusted your expression, unwilling to give the man the satisfaction of visibly surprising you.

“Then you found me already,” Lord Phantomhive replied, all too satisfied. You didn’t even find him! He found you!

You failed to conceal your thoughts, judging by the condescending mirth in his grin. “Shall we?”

. . .

CIEL PHANTOMHIVE

“I— yes, I suppose we shall,” Lady Y/n cleared her throat, despite herself. She laced her arm with Ciel’s as he guided her to the center of the ballroom, more than certain that they were attracting attention, even if most people couldn’t connect his appearance to his name. The very reputation that filled a room enough to substitute his physical presence, most of the time.

Technically, he didn’t have to bow to Y/n because he outranked her, but as Sebastian insinuated, apparently Ciel needed to nurse her shallow pride.

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability.

Taking Y/n’s hand, Ciel led her into the first steps of the waltz. She seemed more interested in studying him than starting a conversation, mechanically following the dance while her mind was elsewhere. He allowed her to dissect the performance he put on for her for a few long moments before speaking.

“I wanted to take this opportunity to extend my sincerest apologies to you, Lady Y/l/n,” Ciel said, visualizing the script that he and Sebastian formulated. He had to make the words seem genuine as if he’d given them enough thought to be considerate, but not so much that he was reciting them. He guided Y/n through a turn, feeling her back tense under his hand.

“I should have helped you find the man who took your things rather than demean you with quips that failed to land,” Ciel continued, taking her continued silence as a bid to continue. His skin crawled at his words, betrayal bristling down his spine. He didn’t apologize. It was fundamentally wrong. And yet, for TransAtlantica, he would. Perhaps this company was the Earl of Phantomhive’s only real love match. “I know I seem far from deserving, but I do hope for your forgiveness. If you give me the opportunity, I hope to show you that I can be,” he continued, fashioning a similar helpless frown that Sebastian used to appeal to frustrated women.

Y/n’s face was unchanged, the same politely engaged expression with clear notes of frustration layered beneath. Of course, it wouldn’t be that easy—she was a petulant heiress unused to not having her way with people. She hummed, tilting her head as she took another moment to dissect his expression. The movement caused her long earrings to sway, drawing Ciel’s attention to the length of her neck and the complicated waves she had her hair styled in.

“You should have helped me,” Y/n agreed gruffly. “A proper gentleman would have, after all,” she mused.

Was the apology not gentlemanly enough? Ciel felt it exceeded expectations.

“I would…treasure the chance to prove myself to be a gentleman, then.” He answered, using part of a line Sebastian fed him. The demon did not have any foresight into the future, but after investigating Y/n with the intensity he would look into a criminal with, he had decent intuition regarding how these planned interactions would unfold. Sebastian accurately assumed she wouldn’t accept that apology.

“The chance to prove yourself?” Y/n repeated, her interest piqued at the proposition. Finally—a new emotion on her face besides detached politeness. “That sounds like quite the endeavor, my Lord.”

“It may very well be, should you let me accompany you on a promenade next week,” Ciel answered, watching her face redden. “If you might overlook my…” his mouth was drier than cotton, “deficiencies.”

He nearly choked on the word. Bloody Hell.

“Perhaps I might find time,” Lady Y/n answered, and Ciel’s heart soared for all the right reasons. He had a chance at the corporation, after all. It seemed acting was just as suspiciously close to lying as Sebastian had insisted.

Acquiring TransAtlantica is not an option; it is an inevitability.

. . .

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ihni · 2 years ago

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Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love 💖

Ooooh, how fun! <3 Thank you! I've gone through my fics and I'm gonna do 5+1, because why not, right? Seems fic approporiate, in a way. So, here goes:

Over the edge, 16K. (Because it's a scenario I've wanted to write for YEARS and I finally did, and I had a blast writing it! Muahaha!) “You’re still on probation. But if you behave this weekend, we might –“ “‘Behave’?” Billy snorted. “I’m not a dog, Henderson. What do you want me to do? Sit? Roll around? Be a good boy?” His voice was dripping with sarcasm, making Steve snort beside him. Dustin drew himself up to his very unimpressive height in the back seat, puffing out his chest. “Well you can start by not killing anyone!” “Ki– Jesus Christ, kid, I’m not gonna kill anyone!” “Well you almost killed Steve before –“ Here, Billy glanced over guiltily at Steve, who shook his head slightly as if to say it wasn’t a big deal, “– and you have a history of violence. You can’t fault us for making sure!” “Whatever.” “You promise?” “I can’t believe I’m doing this. Yes, kid, I promise I won’t kill anyone.”

Birthday boy, 8K. (Because I've never had so many people telling me a fic made them cry ... don't worry though, there are happier follow-ups!) Neil gives Max a benevolent nod. “You can go.” Max shoots up from her chair, a big smile on her face. “Really? Thank you, I –“ “You can go to the party, but not the sleepover. I want you home at eleven, at the latest.” Trying not to grimace, Max nods. It’s better than nothing. “And of course, Billy will go with you.” “What?”

At least an assist, 8K. (Because it's an alternate first meeting between our boys, and it was fun to imagine an opposite to a meet-cute - also Billy's tied up for most of it, which is always a plus!) “Dude,” he said, more baffled than angry. “Did you just try to bite me?” “I’ll do worse than that if you untie me,” Hargrove growled, as if making threats from the position he was in was somehow normal. “Yeah, because that makes me want to untie you,” Steve snarked back without thinking. Then he sighed and dragged a hand through his hair. He didn’t sign up for this shit. “Listen, yes this sucks, but it’s only for a couple of hours. Why don’t you just chill?” “I’ve been fucking kidnapped, you fuck! I’m supposed to play the finals right now, not kick back and relax while being fucking tied to a chair!” or Steve's teammates kidnap the opposing team's star player to secure a win in the finals. The star player in question is not impressed.

Fast and Frightening, 20K. (This whole fic was born from a chat about possessed cars, and because both me and DearDMVZ quite agreed that Billy would look very fetching tied to the hood of his Camaro while it's racing through the roads outside of Hawkins at night.) There's some seriously fucked-up shit going on. Billy crashed his car, was attacked by some kind of monster, escaped, ran into someone who looked just like him, punched that guy in the face, escaped again, and ended up on a random road somewhere outside of town. And now his own car has turned against him. In short, Billy's not having a good time.

Sleeping Beauty Retold, 8K. (Because I went to town on a fairytale AU and I really fucking like it, still.) Once upon a time, there was an evil king. The king married a woman who had magic, and used her to stay young and strong. To attain true immortality, though, he would have to sacrifice their child on the child's eighteenth birthday. Only, the queen thwarted the king's plans - she stoles the child away in the middle of the night and sent him away, to be raised far from the castle, so that he would be safe. The king never stopped looking. And one day, the child - who had grown up into a young man - was found.

Again and again and again and again, 4K. (Bonus fic, because if I'd had time I would have written 80K of this, I love the concept a LOT. Basically the boys being stuck in a time loop together.) It is Sunday, November 4th 1984, and it’s been Sunday, November 4th 1984 like, fifty-two times now. Fifty-four? Over fifty, at least. Billy’s lost count, which is depressing in itself.

#ihni writes #fic rec #yeah i'm reccing my own fics #thanks for this it was fun!#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington

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kitchfit · 1 year ago

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Year in Review: Books Pt 1

Tumblr deleted the entire first draft of this, which is cool and awesome. It was too long anyways. These aren't meant to be full on analytic reviews, just blurbs about my experience with the books and what I thought about them. I might move into more in depth stuff later on next year.

Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen

He was pride. She was prejudice. Can I make it anymore obvious?

I started this on CD audiobook for the first half before driving my car off of a cliff. I was fine, but Elizabeth Bennet was a casualty of the accident, so I found the rest of the book on Libby with a different reader who had Very different vibes. It kind of fit how I felt about the book. Jane Austen is very good at regaling the audience from Elizabeth's point of view about how Darcy is the shittiest man alive, while turning at the halfway point to reveal he is actually the Only Good Victorian Man to exist.

I've seen this tale play out in both BBC and Keira Knightley formats, which are both fantastic in their own right, but I was significantly more invested in the characters this time around, especially the supporting cast. Elizabeth/Darcy romance was very cute, Jane and Bingley was adorable, Elizabeth's shitty cousin was hilarious. I like the glimpses of how she thinks about the rest of her family that you don't get in the movie. She hates how her dad views her mother as entertainment, she hates how her mother treats her children like products to be sold, she hates how her younger sisters make them all look silly. Damn she's really hateful, huh? Almost like she's preju-OHHHHHHHH.

Coraline by Neil Gaiman

The Funny Cat, The Spider Mom, and the Weird Door

This was a book I was excited to get into. The movie freaked me out when I was little, as did it everyone else, and I'll get to that since I watched it immediately after this. Maybe this Friday. But it isn't anywhere near as vividly horrific as the OG Evil Narnia. In a fun way. There's an implication in this book that the Other World and Other Mother are just two of many possible little horrors that live under your bed or behind the door that shouldn't be there that want to hurt and/or eat you. Kind of like real life. That's okay though, you can get through it alive. And Coraline proves it.

I like her a lot as a character. She isn't near as naive as she is in the movie, and catches on to the nature of what's happening on the end of night one, thus Other Mother kidnapping her parents to serve as motivation to come back. That gives the book freedom to explore the Other World and its nature thoroughly, and watch as it all crumbles around Coraline. I like that everything is just a bunch of bugs stretched into the visage of pleasant things by a giant spider. I also love that spider's contrary motivation. She needs to feed, but there is also a genuine desire to love Coraline, to be a mother, whatever her bizarre conception of what that means. Evil hungry desire is more pressing though. Get in my web, girl.

The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe by C. S. Lewis

Digimon season one for 1950s British kids.

At some point I decided to reread all of the Narnia books. I got through like, 4 of them in a weird order due to how Libby works. I promise I do read physical stuff its just hard to find the time to finish them. The first book the Narnia line up was originally written for my boy Clive's real life goddaughter Lucy Barfield , who was temporarily displaced as a child during WWII, as a children's story. He even dedicated the book and maybe the whole series to her. However, by the time he finished this one she was already an adult and "too old for fairytales." Classic blunder. I'll still read your stuff, Clive.

The whole of Narnia is a wintery wonderland turned on its head, its magic and majesty suffocating under a thick sheet of ice. Jadis is a very cool antagonist. She's not super complex, but she's a very strong character and extremely threatening villain, as we see throughout the series. The Pevinsies all have a sweet relationship. Edmond's an asshole in a very realistic sense, but they all care deeply for each other in an even more realistic way. The end of the book starts a pattern Mr. Lewis likes to repeat where a quick epilogue is hamfisted into the end that blows over large swaths of time in a hurry to resolve everything. I have problem's with that in later books, but it works best here, skipping to the famous reveal that time moves much faster in Narnia, and two decades or so only equals a few minutes in our world. A little fucked up. Go through puberty again, Pevinsies, this time in BRITISH SCHOOL.

Prince Caspian by Clive

Ocarina of Time for 1950s British kids.

The second book in the series gives more context to the world Narnia lives in, while also screwing with our perception of what Narnia is in first place. A previously unmentioned country to the east invades and colonizes Narnia, oppressing its people and removing magic wherever they can. Lewis can write about the complexities of colonization as he actually comes from a country familiar with this kind of shit, believe it or not. Who are they conquered by? A country of Minotaurs? Dragons? Wayward dwarves still allegiant to Jadis? Humans??? What the hell?

Turns out Narnia is the weird magic fairytale place even within its own universe. Everywhere else is inhabited by eternally 18th century European style society. It's also 1000 years later, but a year for our dudes, so the Pevinsies get to experience how Narnia has changed physically in all that time. Like Cair Paravel, that place two whole pages mention in the first book. I like that the age reversal thing is acknowledged in this book, and how that might have affected our heroes and their development. At the end of the book, the colonizing force gets sent to Earth, and Prince Caspian is crowned as King Caspian. Aslan (or maybe one of animals, idr) says outright that Narnia is better ruled by humans than its own people. Which is. An odd note to end on a book whose main conflict is colonization. Huh.

A Horse and His Boy by C. Staples L.

He was a horse. He was his boy. Can I make it anymore-okay shut up.

This is an interesting one. Five books into the Narnia series and we are introduced to brand new protagonist, with zero connections to previous characters, in a place that is not Narnia. He's a young boy who runs away with a talking horse in their desperate attempt to both escape slavery. They meet a spunky, ass-kicking princess who's also running away, this time from an arranged marriage. Narnia in this story is more of an ideal their working towards, rather than a physical place the story spends time in. The plot is very refreshing in this aspect, especially if its the fifth, or in my case, third Narnia book you've read in a row. It could likely stand on its own outside the rest of the series, though you do get a surprise cameo from the adult Pevinsies pre-wardrobe-return, which is fun.

I do have a couple issues with it though. I'd argue against the idea that all of Narnia is a direct analogue to Christianity. Aslan is definitely furry Jesus, and C. S.'s theological beliefs are an obvious intentional aspect of the storytelling, but most of the books have themes and lessons outside of that and pose a genuinely fun fantasy world to engage with. The religious metaphors in this book specifically are pretty heavy-handed though, and not very delicately woven in. The setting of the story also pulls allusions to several real-life Middle Eastern cultures, and if you think a white British dude in the 50s wrote about that respectfully? Sorry no. There's also a lot of mention of Boy (I straight up forgot that kids name) being Special and Different for having pale skin and blue eyes. :/. At the end is another rapid-fire epilogue that blazes through Boy's life as the new prince of wherever that I think the story could have gone without. Just let it end with dignified mystery, Clive.

The Magician's Nephew by Siwel S. C.

Honestly Clive the mulitverse trope has been done to death, bro

Last Narnia book on the list as of now. Luckily, its also the best one. This is a prequel to the whole of the Narnia continuity, which details the creation of Narnia and the origins of Jadis, but the actual plot revolves around two new Brit kids Digory and Polly. Digory is described as grubby at least sixteen times throughout the story. His mom is sick and his magic uncle sucks ass and he's scared and he has no friends. Polly decides to be that friend which ultimately burns her as he's also a bit of a selfish brat. Learning to get past that brattiness and mature enables Polly to forgive him and ultimately helps him save his mother.

The plot takes place in the Wood Between Worlds, which has still stuck in my head and spurned on my imagination years later. You move outside of Earth to find the grandness of the Milky Way, you escape the Milky Way to discover the imperceivable majesty of the universe, and you find the indeterminate edge of that universe and land yourself in an idyllic forest with trees so high you cannot see the sky, the forest's floor dotted with puddles leading to other worlds. Jadis' origin is also pretty fascinating. A queen so obsessed with ultimate power she destroyed her own empire rather than let her sister take it. Aslan roars the world into existence. The whole vibes on this book are pretty stellar, ngl.

The Bell Jar by Silvia Plath

You wouldn't be cool if it weren't for the lessons that you learnt in the BELL JAR, nah, nana nah nah.

And now for a weird fucking heel turn. And also the last book I'm doing for now. I'm going to be honest, my original interest in this book came from the song "I Cut Myself" by Talkshow Boy, who mentions the book in the above lyric. Also, my college roommate said she liked it a lot. I went in with zero expectations and was surprised at how hard it hit home. I've never been personally institutionalized, but I know people who have, and I can relate to the downward depression spiral Esther goes through in this book.

Its interesting to see the thought patterns and paradigms that Esther voices in her inner monologues that partially lead to her mental break. Little observations that reveal her hyper-awareness and implicit nihilism. They're good observations too. The vivid description of the horrific image of a woman giving birth compared to a dulled animal being hooked into a machine. You can see her perspective on a lot of subjects, probably even agree with much of it. It makes sense, as this is the author famous for vivid and introspective poetry more than anything. Looking at the historical context for this book made me sad, especially given how hopeful the ending was, at least how I read it.

Going to shift into movies at the end of the week. I'll need to start doing these at least bi-weekly if I want to finish before the end of the year. Also more bisexually.

#books #bookblr #thats a tag that exists #reviews #my post #pride and prejudice #narnia #the lion the witch and the wardrobe #prince caspian #a horse and his boy #the magician's nephew #the bell jar #silvia plath #cs lewis #jane austen

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shayberri789 · 2 years ago

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Aftg is my obsession and when you're done reading you won't know what to do with yourself and you will never be free. It's absolutely badshit insane and I went into it blind and almost every other chapter had me eyebrow raising

That said it's also hilarious and has deeply touching moments and tackles themes of consent, healing, revenge and numerous dark topics

It's about a boy on the run from his father, who I'd absolutely OBSESSED with this (made up for the book) sport called Exy (Neil is, not his dad). After neil's mother dies, Neil spends a year undercover in a town in the middle of nowhere and Indulges by joining the exy team to help stave off the grief despair and fear. Turns out he's a little too good and he gets scouted by the last ranked team in first class college exy, the Foxes, who are only last place because they only recruit kids with troubled backgrounds and that means they cannot work together to save their lives. Neil knows its a bad idea, being on television will get him caught and killed, but he loves exy too much to give it and free university up, and figures he can leave the moment he gets too much recognition- by the media, or by Kevin Day, his team mates and childhood friend who might remember Neil.

Neil gets into several fights, pisses off the mafia, becomes one of the best exy players in class 1 exy, makes a deal with a 5 foot nothing goalie with nothing to lose and nothing to live for with a perchent of violence and promises to protect Neil from his past in exchange for keeping Kevin on court. Neil resolves to make the foxes work as a team.

Also, neil's aspec and there's an amazing slowburn romance that's really only a slow burn the second time you read it because Nora sakovic does an EXCELLENT job of (entirely accidentally) writing a love story from the POV of a character who's prioritises aren't romance and never really considers it nor notices it in relation to himself. For someone who didn't know what demi-sexual was while she was writing it, she did a better job handling it than soooo many other authors out there tbh. After she was made aware of demi-sexuality, she said that was neil, but I'd say neil's either demi or fully aromantic too.

Also, there's found family. SO much found family and little dysfunctional people all choosing each other and supporting each other even tho they regularly fistfight. Neil bringing this team together and in the process they strip away the lies and make him a real person again.

. But also check tws. The ones off the top of my head are explicit torture, rape (character walks in on someone), sexual assault (both mentioned and on screen - I think it's just kissing without consent however), CSA/child rape (mentioned and discussed a lot), violence, knife violence, murder, slurs, mention of suicide, drugs, drug abuse (and recovery), mentions of conversion therapy (one character was forced to go as a teenager and talks about it a bit vaguely), alcoholism, etc.

I went in blind and was thusly blinds idea multiple times. But I had fun. On paper I should not have enjoyed the series as much as I did in reality. It's a series of audacity. It's so good and a little bad and very much insane. Let me know if you choose to read it

Alright what’s all for the game

#no one will blame you if you dont #never thought this would be a series you would mention lol #sorry for the wall of text #also not insane as in hard to follow #insane as in 'this is entirely unrealistic but neil is so convinced and the stoey is so well done that you dont notice suspending #'your disbelief until youre finished and sit back and wonder 'tf did i read' and its wild im hindsight'#lots of audacity #aftg #aftg tsc

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a-simple-gaywitch · 4 years ago

Text

Embers to Ashes

hotch x unsub!reader

Summary: When (Y/N) leaves the BAU, she doesn’t expect to get wrapped up in a crime spree

Word Count: 2609

Warnings: abusive relationship, pregnancy & mentions of childbirth, typical criminal minds violence

“The real monsters are humans without conscience.” -Robert E. Keller

Your decision to leave the BAU was not an easy one, but it was what was best. After your mother fell ill, you decided to move back home to care for her, as she was alone. Your team protested, not wanting you to leave, of course. Penelope fought for you to stay the hardest. She was like the sister you never had.

The team followed you to the airport to see you off. Hugs went around, followed by promises that you’d call when you land. The only person who didn’t hug you was Hotch, which you found weird for a number of reasons. Even Spencer hugged you, and he wasn’t big on physical affection. And you’d always thought you and Hotch were close.

“Hey, promise me you’ll keep in touch,” he said, resting his hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah, of course,” you said.

“Oh, I need another hug!” Penelope said, squeezing you tight again. She’d been crying the whole time and her mascara was running. “I’m gonna miss you so much, Peaches.”

“I’m gonna miss you too, Pen,” you said. You glanced at your watch. “Okay, I really have to go now. I love you guys so much.”

You were grocery shopping for your mother when you ran into him. Nicholas Gully, one of your old high school friends.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N) (L/N)?”

“Nick! Hi!” you said, tossing the box of pasta into your shopping cart. “How have you been?”

“Oh, great. What about you? Big FBI agent out at Quantico.”

You laughed awkwardly and rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah, uh, I actually quit.”

“What? Why? All you talked about in high school was getting into the academy.”

“Uh, well, it’s because of Mom actually. She’s sick. I quit to move back out here and help her until she… Well…”

“Yeah. Well, I’m here if you need to, I don’t know, let off steam?” He handed you a business card. “Here. My number. Give me a call, we’ll go out for drinks or something.”

You smiled. “Thanks, Nick. It was good seeing you.”

Your mom died about a month after you moved home. You were an only child, so it was your responsibility to handle all of her affairs. It was stressful, and you felt isolated. Alone.

You looked at all the funeral plans spread out on the kitchen table, and before you knew it, you’d called Nick and asked him to come over.

What happened next was a blur. You buried your mother next to your father, Nick stayed by your side the whole time. While your mind was clouded with grief, you thought the only good thing to come of it was your new relationship with Nick.

He was nice. He treated you well and helped you through your grief. Only, he didn’t like how much you talked to Penelope and Emily, saying that it was unnatural to be so close to your ex-coworkers. So you stopped talking to them.

Nick moved in with you not too long into your relationship. He said that living in your mother’s house alone wasn’t healthy for you. He helped you sort and pack up her belongings, taking the things you weren’t keeping or throwing out to the thrift store.

You were together for about 8 months before your relationship changed.

You hadn’t been feeling well and you had your suspicions. You took a trip to the drug store and bought a few tests while Nick was at work. You took all of them, trying to rule out a false positive.

When you heard Nick come in from work, you decided to tell him.

“Hey, Nick? I have some news,” you said after he put his work bag down on the couch.

“What’s up?”

“Um, you know how I haven’t been feeling well lately? Well, I went to the pharmacy and picked up some pregnancy tests. They were all positive.”

“Are you serious? You’re pregnant?”

You nodded. “I’m calling my doctor first thing tomorrow to schedule an appointment.”

Nick’s tone should have tipped you off to his true nature. But you were in too deep.

A few months passed. You were showing significantly, though your doctor was worried about your health. The bags under your eyes grew, and you were showing up to your appointments with more and more bruises on your arms. One day you came in with a poorly concealed black eye.

One day, you came home from a doctor’s appointment to see Nick packing some bags.

“Nick? What’s going on?”

“We’re going on a trip,” he said. “Roadtrip, it’ll be fun.”

“Nick, I’m 7 weeks away from my due date-”

“You’ll be fine,” he snapped, thrusting a bag at you. “Get in the car.”

You headed outside, Nick’s hand firmly on your back. He steered you away from your old clunker towards a shiny new SUV. “Did you buy a new car?” you asked.

“Sure, buy. Let’s go with that.”

“Nick, what did you do? What did you get us into?”

“Don’t worry about it. Get in.”

“Nick-”

“I said, get in.”

“Des Moines PD has a case for us,” Penelope said. “As do St. Louis, Louisville, and Charleston.”

“Carjacking?” Morgan asked, flipping through the case file. “Why are they asking us to come in?”

“It’s the same MO,” Hotch explained. “It’s a couple, a man and a woman, presumably his wife or girlfriend. They find a home just outside the city and take the car at night, leaving the previously stolen car.”

“They’re active at night? How do we know it’s a team?” Spencer asked.

“The second victim had security cameras installed. They caught glimpses of the couple, but not enough for us to identify,” Penelope explained.

“Why are they only bringing us in now?” Emily asked. “It says the first theft was over a month ago.”

“Because this one ended in a murder and assult. The surviving victims are at the hospital. Wheels up in 30,” Hotch said.

When the team landed in West Virginia, Hotch divided the team up between the hospital, the crime scene, and the coroner’s office. Hotch and Emily took the hospital to interview the victims. One was a woman in her mid-30s, and the other was her 6-year-old son. The husband had been the murdered victim.

“Hi, Mrs. Foster? I’m Agent Hotchner,” Hotch said, taking a seat next to the woman with Emily. “Would you mind answering a few questions for us?”

“Well, I’m-I’m not sure how much I’ll be able to remember but…”

“Anything you tell us can help us catch these two,” Emily said, gently patting the woman’s hand. “We’re going to try something called a cognitive interview, to see what your subconscious picked up, okay?”

The woman nodded. “Okay.”

“Go ahead and close your eyes,” Emily said. “So, it was late. You and your husband were getting ready for bed. Then what?”

“Neil heard a noise,” she said. “He said it sounded like a man. He grabbed Micah’s little league bat from beside the front door. He told me to wait inside. Micah had fallen asleep on our couch and came to see what was going on. I-I heard Neil yell and I heard a gunshot. I ran outside and I saw a couple. A man and a woman.”

“What can you tell me about them? What did they look like?”

“I didn’t see the man too well, but the woman, well, I only saw her face. But she looked bad.”

“What do you mean?” Emily asked.

“Well, her skin was sunken and sallow. She had bruises all over. She looked like she was ready to drop at any second.”

“Okay. What happened then?”

“Neil was bleeding on the ground. I-I ran over to him and felt for his pulse. It was already gone. Then the man hit my head with the gun, and I fell to the ground. But Micah- I didn’t know Micah followed me. The man pointed his gun at Micah. I was terrified. I thought he was going to shoot my son, too. But then the woman stood in front of the gun. She started pleading with the man. I was fading in and out of consciousness, but I heard her.”

“Nick, don’t!”

“What did I tell you? You don’t get to call me that, whore.”

“I-I’m sorry, sir. But, please, don’t hurt him. He’s just a boy.”

“He saw our faces. You know the police are already on our trail. We can’t have a kid squealing to the cops.”

“No, I… I won’t let you.”

“You won’t let me?”

“He hit her,” Mrs. Foster said. “Hard. It was so hard I thought he shot her, too.” She shook her head. “After that, he knocked me out. I don’t know what happened next. I just remember waking up here.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Foster,” Hotch said. “This was very helpful.” Hotch and Emily got up to leave.

“Wait, Agent Prentiss,” she called after Hotch left the room. Emily turned around. “When you find them, go easy on the woman.”

“Why would you want us to do that?” she asked.

“I work at a battered women’s shelter. I see women like her all the time. She’s profoundly abused. She’s not a criminal, she’s a victim.”

Micah Foster was able to give a detailed description of the man to the sketch artist. Thanks to his description, they were able to track him down outside of Charlottesville, Virginia. What they weren’t counting on was seeing you, in the passenger seat.

Nick didn’t want to go down without a fight. But his idea of a fight was to use you as a human shield. He held you in front of him, his arm bracing against your throat. He had a gun in his other hand, training it on the team.

“You shoot, you hit her!” he said, pressing harder on your throat.

“Okay, okay,” Morgan said, holding his gun up in surrender. “We won’t shoot. Just let (Y/N) go.”

Nick turned the gun and pressed it to your temple. “Why are you so concerned about her?

“Because she’s a person,” Derek said, trying to negotiate. “She doesn’t need to get hurt.”

A gunshot went off. You screamed and stumbled forward, Morgan catching you. Nick fell to the ground, dropping his gun and gripping his thigh. Hotch had snuck up behind and shot him in the leg.

The next thing you knew, you were in an interrogation room with Hotch and Emily.

“(Y/N), what happened?” Emily asked you, her voice gentle. “You look awful. What did he do to you?”

Your eyes were trained on the table. “Nothing. He treats me with nothing but respect. I did this to myself.”

“(Y/N), we all know that’s not true,” Emily said. “Talk to us. You know us.”

You kept your eyes on the metal table and you stayed quiet.

“Damn it, (Y/N)!” Hotch yelled, slamming his hands on the table. You flinched back, closing your eyes and wincing like you were bracing for a hit. Hotch took a step back. “Prentiss, take over.”

He left the interrogation room and stormed over to the second room where Morgan and Reid were interrogating Nicholas.

“Hotch-”

“What the hell did you do to her?” Hotch nearly screamed, his blood boiling.

Nick smiled. “I didn’t do anything, she did it all to herself.”

“We both know that’s not true, you piece of-”

“Aaron!” Rossi said, cutting him off. He then proceeded to pull Hotch from the interrogation room. “What the hell is going on with you?”

Hotch took a deep breath, rubbing his hand over his face. “You saw her, Dave. You saw what that asshole did to her. You saw her flinch away from me. That’s a woman who has faced down some of the worst humanity has to offer, and she’s been so badly abused that she’s…”

“Aaron, you know what abuse does to people. We’ve seen it more times than I ever want to count.”

“But it’s never been someone we know. It’s never been someone we love.”

“Ah. So that’s what this is about.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Why don’t you sit this one out? Prentiss and I can handle it.” Rossi walked into the room and sat next to Emily. Emily had given you a glass of water.

“(Y/N), why did you save the mother and her son?” she asked you.

“I don’t know,” you said, twisting the glass around in your hands.

“(Y/N).” Emily reached out and put her hand on yours. “You specifically looked out for the boy. Why?”

A tear rolled down your cheek. “Nick made me leave mine,” you whispered.

“What?”

“He said she would slow us down, that she was a burden. He made me leave her at a church. I didn’t even get to hold her.” After that, you broke down sobbing. Emily slowly crossed to the other side of the table and cautiously put her arm around you.

The team worked out a deal for you with the DA. You would be acquitted if you testified against Nick, and you would be closely watched by the team.

“She can’t keep sleeping on the couch in the conference room, Hotch,” Rossi said as the team gathered in the bullpen. You were asleep and the team wanted you to have peace. “She can come stay with me. Lord knows I have the space.”

“Wait, why should she stay with you? She’s my best friend,” Penelope argued. “She can stay with me.”

“Babygirl, you don’t have a spare room,” Derek reminded her. “I can take her in.”

“She just spent the better part of two years under the thumb of an alpha male, do you think she’d feel comfortable staying with another one?” Emily said.

“Did any of you think maybe she should make her own choice?” Spencer piped up. “I mean, she hasn’t been able to make her own choices, I think we should at least give her that.”

“Reid is right,” Hotch said. “We should let her make the choice. And please, don’t pressure her. She’s not the same (Y/N) she was when she left. She’s been through hell and back.”

In the end, you chose to stay with Aaron. Something about him made you feel safe. Slowly but surely, you started warming up again. You spent your days taking care of Jack when Hotch was on cases. When Aaron was home, he spent time with you and Jack. The two of you grew closer and closer.

You’d stayed with Aaron for a few months before there was a shift in your relationship. You weren’t sure when it happened, but you and Aaron were closer. You became more comfortable with physical contact, and you found yourself curling up on the couch with Aaron for movie nights after Jack went to bed.

You kissed Aaron first. He’d come back from a case with a book he knew you’d been wanting to read. It was something simple, but it meant the world to you, knowing there was someone who listened to you and wanted to do something nice for you.

Your relationship blossomed from there, and Aaron made sure to show you he respected you and never wanted to hurt you. Of course, there were bad days and there were days you argued, but Aaron never raised a hand against you. He never wanted you to experience the pain Nick caused you ever again.

“The difference between the right word and the almost right word is like the difference between a lightning bug and the lightning.” - Mark Twain

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #x reader #em's fics

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mdittyz123 · 5 years ago

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Motley Crue/The Dirt Fics

Nikki Sixx

-Animal in Me

Aria is a journalist for Rolling Stone magazine. She’s followed and hung out with countless bands. But what happens when she follows Motley Crue for one month for her latest piece? #series #ongoing #complicated relationship #ozzy osbourne

-Rebel Love Song

Nikki and Corey have been friends since they were kids. Back than Nikki Sixx was just simply Frankie to Corey. He was just the boy next door with a troubled past and a messed up present and future unknown. Corey was just the ideal girl next door, a girl Nikki couldn’t believe would actually give him the time of day. Things changed when Nikki took off without a goodbye or even a note. It would be years later before the two would be reunited. And when they are the girl next door isn’t exactly the girl next door anymore. Things happened and she’s changed. But will she still be the perfect girl in Nikki’s eyes or will she just be another girl in the crowd? #series #ongoing #childhood friends #friends to lovers

*-Afraid Summary: You meet Sikki Nixx, but then you meet Nikki Sixx and your world is forever altered. #dad!nikki #mom!reader #pregnancy #baby #godfather!tommy #meet in rehab

-Best Friends Summary: Omg colson and Dougie getting close to Nikki’s teen daughter (in a big brother way) #the dirt cast #the dirt movie filming #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #brothers in all but blood #brother figure!douglas #brother figure!mgk/colson baker #protective

-Twins Summary: Can I request a lil something that Nikki is dating a girl but she’s an identical twin and Nikki can never tell them apart? (Maybe a lil smut;) #twin!reader #messing with nikki #headcanon

-Support Summary: can you do a Headcanon about Nikki’s daughter having a baby? #single mom!reader #grandpa!nikki #daughter!reader #baby #grandaby #headcanon

-Grounded Summary: Headcanon for being Nikki’s teenage daughter today? & Headcanons for Nikki’s teen daughter being super close to “auntie Brit” and “Uncle Tom”?? #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #uncle!tommy #headcanon

-Tommy's Sister Summary: Tommy’s sister getting with Nikki. #brother!tommy #sister!reader

-You. Prompt: “you’ve shown me what love can feel like.”

-I'll Kick His Ass When Izzy Stradlin assaults Vince Neil's wife Sharise, things heat up between the Crue and Guns N' Roses, especially since the reader is Axl Rose's ex girlfriend #brother!vince #sister!reader #guns n roses #violence against females from guns n roses #memories #protective!nikki #protective!vince #the dirt movie filming

*-Shellshock Request: 1)Hey I saw you did a Nikki imagine that was based on a queen song ,, I was wondering if I could request that the reader is related to one of the members of queen and Nikki finds out and gets star struck 😂 sorry this is a weird request lol. 2)May I request a oneshot where reader is dating Nikki Sixx and she is best friends with Queen, especially Freddie, one day Queen makes a suprise visit? I am curious about the reactions of Motley Crue. I am rambling at this point but I would be really happy if you can write something like this🧡 #queen #crossover #queen x reader platonic #reader is queen's friend and introduces them to motley crue

-Being Ozzy Osbourne’s Daughter and Dating Nikki Sixx (Headcanon) #headcanon # dad!ozzy #daughter!reader #secret relationship

-Nikki Meets His Child Who Was Born During The Tour #headcanon #dad!nikki #mom!reader #pregnancy #baby

-The Love of a Brother Description: Nikki is your older brother and he comforts you when the family past comes back to haunt you #brother!niki #sister!reader

-Protective Can I request an imagine please with Nikki Sixx?? (been loving the dirt lately lol) i don’t a have personal preference on what it should be on. Maybe where you get hit on at a show and Nikki isn’t very happy and calls the dude out? #protective!nikki

-Headcanon for Being Nikki Sixx's Daughter #headcanon #dad!nikki #daughter!reader

Tommy Lee

-Tommy Lee Dating Someone Who Loves Cats (Headcanon) #headcanon

-Brother's Best Friend Summary: Vince is your brother and he forces you to go to one of his shows. You catch Tommy’s eye and he offers to take you home when you start begging Vince to let you leave. You end up hanging with Tommy and end up liking him much more than just the drummer for your brother’s band. #brother!vince #sister!reader

-Drummer #series #tommy lee x reader #brother!mick #sister!reader #marriage #jealosy

-Little Drummer Boy Description: “ I’d love to read a Dad!Tommy taking his and Reader’s kid shopping for their first little drum kit.” #dad!tommy #mom!reader #son #little drummer

-No More Secrets Request: can you do a fic where the reader is nikki’s sister and falls in love with tommy? nikki gets upset but everything works out in the end? thanks ✨ #brother!nikki #sister!reader #secret relationship

-Daddy's Girl Description: You and Tommy have a 3 year old, but you’re not together. The baby takes a liking to your new boyfriend and Tommy is jealous/hurt because he feels like he misses out on his daughter’s life. #Part 1 of 2 #dad!tommy #mom!reader#child #angst with a happy ending

-Headcannons for being Tommy's daughter? #headcanon #dad!tommy #daughter!reader

-My Brother's in the Band Summary: Your brother finds you in a compromising position with one of his bandmates #brother!mick #sister!reader

-Get a Room You and tommy are best friends and you flirt constantly and everyone’s trying to get you two together lmao #series #part 1 of 6 #best friends to lovers

-The No Fun Tour SUMMARY // You’ve been working as a roadie for Motley Crue for a number of years because of your interest in the music business and family connections with Doc. The boys are touring with Ozzy and things are looking promising for them, but if they mess up one more hotel room they’re in big trouble with Elektra Records. Doc has assigned you to watch Tommy for the night, and while the boys are like second family to you, you realize you may actually have more feelings for the drummer than you originally thought. #series #part 1 of 17 #roadie!reader #reader is motley crue's assistant #secret relationship

Vince Neil

-My Kinda Lover song inspiration: My Kinda Lover by Billy Squier #fluff

-Newlyweds No More #brother!mick #sister!reader #wedding night #cheating #car accident #agnst

-Hold On Your Life Reader is pregnant with Vince’s baby and they’ve been together for a couple of years and Vince is off on tour while she’s staying home and he accidentally overdoses and when he wakes up he’s just worried about his girl and his baby

-Dancer Summary: You never thought that you would meet the love of your life in the strip club you worked at. #stripper!reader #single mom!reader #step dad!vince #child

-Vince Imagine #vince neil x reader

-The End or the Beginning Could you please do a imagine where the reader is Razzle’s sister and has a friends with benefits relationship with Vince. The night of the car accident she was in the car with them and survived alongside Vince which leads them to get closer and end up admitting they have feelings for one another? #brother!razzle #sister!reader #angst #car accident

-Drunk Confessions Request: Your Tommy Lee’s sister and Vince falls in love with you #brother!tommy #sister!reader

-Me and You Plus Two Description: You and Vince have twins #dad!vince #mom!reader #birth #twins #babies

-A Girl Summary: When Vince finds out he’s going to be having a little girl he doubts his ability to raise a young woman into adulthood. #dad!vince #mom!reader #pregnancy

-Being Vince Neil’s Identical Twin Brother (Headcanon) #headcanon #twin!vince

-Persephone Description: Reader is a famous singer and has an innocent image but when she turns 18 the label wants to up her sex appeal so her and Vince’s record label have them fake date—the media nicknames them as Hollywood’s Hades and Persephone. #headcanon #singer!reader #fake relationship #becomes real

-Try Description: Reader is Tommy’s sister and she’s best friends with Mick and falls for Vince and she’s really obvious about it but only Mick sees it and teases her about it #brother!tommy #sister!reader #best friend!mick

-One Chance Vince falling for a girl and her not realizing it, this one is for you! #cousin!mick #cousin!reader #oblivious!reader

-Lights SUMMARY: A road trip for more booze doesn’t end well with a drunk Vince driving and Razzle and Y/N tagging along. #character death #car accident

-Headcanon for Being Vince's daughter after Skylar #headcanon #dad!vince #daughter!reader

*-Borrowing #brother!tommy #sister!reader #continue the family name

-My Kinda Lover Vince being shy around a girl, getting nervous and messing up a show when she’s there #before motley crue was a band

Mics.

-Trouble Summary: I’d like to request a Nikki Sixx, where the reader is a good friend of him, and just as crazy and they party a lot and she always comes up with stupid ideas such as throwing a tv out of the window, or lighting up mick’s room and they are all just crazy and do a lot of crazy and stupid things? So she is kind of a part of the Terror Twins? #terror twins plus one

-Preference #12 - Motley Meets The Baby #mick mars x reader #dad!mick #mom!reader #nikki sixx x reader #dad!nikki #mom!reader #tommy lee x reader #dad!tommy #mom!reader #vince neil x reader #dad!vince #mom!reader #new baby

Douglas Booth

-Head-canons for Nikki’s daughter meeting Douglas Booth or MGK and being like O_O shit he’s hot 😂 #headcanon #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #the dirt movie filming

-Makeup Artist Summary: Omg Nikki’s teen daughter helping with Dougie’s makeup for the movie #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #makeup artist!reader #the dirt movie filming

-Having a Baby with Douglas Booth (Headcanon) #headcanon #dad!douglas #mom!rader #pregnancy #baby

-It Just Sort of Happened (Douglas Booth Imagine) #the dirt movie filming #dad!tommy #daughter!reader

Machine Gun Kelly/Colson Baker

-Head-canons for Nikki’s daughter meeting Douglas Booth or MGK and being like O_O shit he’s hot 😂 #headcanon #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #the dirt movie filming

-Being Pete Davidson’s Sister and Dating Machine Gun Kelly (Headcanon) #headcanon #brother!pete #sister!reader

-Having a Baby with Machine Gun Kelly/Colson Baker (Headcanon) #part 1 of 2 #headcanon #dad!mgk/colson #mom!reader #pregnancy #baby

-Being Roger Taylor’s Daughter and Dating Machine Gun Kelly (Headcanon) #headcanon #queen #crossover #dad!roger taylor #daughter!reader #drummer!reader

Daniel Webber

-Winning Summary: Can we have more on Nikki’s daughter and Daniel’s relationship? #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #the dirt movie filming

-On Set Summary: Being Nikki’s oldest daughter and dating Daniel Webber from the Dirt. While they’re filming but you come to see Nikki, Tommy, and when Mick and Vince was on set helping. #headcanon #the dirt movie filming #dad!nikki #daughter!reader #secret relationship

#The Dirt #Motley Crue #the dirt fic recommendations #motley crue fic recommedations #the dirt imagine #motley crue imagine #the dirt cast #nikki sixx x reader #tommy lee x reader #vince neil x reader #mick mars x reader #douglas booth x reader #machine gun kelly x reader #colson baker x reader #daniel webber x reader #fic recommendations #imagens

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jingerhead · 4 years ago

Note

Ok imagine them babysitting Aaron or Nickys future children.

AHHHHHHHHH ok by ‘them’ I’m assuming you meant Andreil? ‘Cause that’s where I took this ‘cause I couldn’t stop thinking about something like that, omfg. This is getting added to the stupid cute shit, I hope you enjoy Andreil’s attempts at babysitting. I have created oc children because I can’t be bothered to sort through Nora’s extra content at this hour. Also, I meant to post this last night but I waited and decided to change the entire thing lol, but also thanks for the amazing prompt!

Read on AO3 | Word Count: 4,378 | Rated: G

Pretty much all of the original foxes had eventually decided to have children. Kevin had his daughter, Dan and Matt had their son, Nicky and Erik had adopted, and even Jack had found someone that tolerated him enough to have a kid with. The only ones that didn’t seem to want children were Robin, Renee and Allison, who agreed with what Neil and Andrew thought: they weren’t cut out for raising anyone. Between their own childhoods and trauma they were still trying to overcome, bringing a child into the mess didn’t seem appropriate.

But that didn’t mean that Neil didn’t like kids. Lots of his fans were bright eyed elementary schoolers, and he’d made more than one trip to visit a few via the ‘Make a Wish’ foundation. Matt and Dan wanted to name him the godfather of their son, which Neil wasn’t exactly opposed to, but instead confused as to why they wanted him to be in the first place. In the end, he supposed it was the same reason Aaron and Katelyn had named Andrew the godfather of both their kids.

Neil was determined to get the girls to like him more than Aaron. He knew he had some competition, since Aaron was their dad, but he could be the most fun uncle in the world. Which was exactly what he intended to do, since Andrew apparently had no interest in being the best uncle. They came to their birthday parties every year with the best gift Neil could find and visited for holidays, making time to video call once in a while.

But this was different. This time, the girls were going to be around for a ‘sleepover’, as Katelyn had explained.

It started off with Neil meeting with Katelyn one day as their yearly check-up, as she always put it. Neil was pretty sure he had one with each of the foxes, but it was more like a monthly check-up in Matt and Dan’s case. They went for coffee, took a short walk and talked about how things have been since they last saw each other. It was a weird sort of friendship.

“In two months is our tenth anniversary,” Katelyn randomly said when they were sitting in the park people watching.

“Congrats?” Neil asked. “Are you going to have a party?”

“I want a night alone,” Katelyn said instead, grinning to herself. “No kids, no work. Just me and Aaron for a night.”

Neil made a face at the thought. “Where do you want to go?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe we could go on a quick trip? Somewhere relaxing.” Katelyn sighed, her grin getting wider as she clearly thought about it. Neil grimaced at the thought of Aaron of all people somewhere relaxing. Katelyn seemed to snap out of her daze after a moment. “But we’d need someone to watch the girls.”

“Okay. Get a babysitter.”

“For two days?” Katelyn asked, narrowing her eyes. “Neil, I know you’re not the best with kids, but…”

“Oh!” Neil said. “I see. You’re asking me and Andrew to watch them.”

“No, that wasn’t - “

“We could.” Neil attempted a smile, because while the thought of watching Sofia and Isla was appealing to him, he’d have to make sure Andrew was okay with it, too.

“No games?” Katelyn asked. “No practice?”

“Nope. Perks of summer.”

Katelyn nodded. “Well, we’ll have to see. And so long as you promise not to teach Sofia any more pressure points.”

“Okay, okay, I won’t.” Neil rolled his eyes. “She should know how to protect herself.”

“She’s seven, Neil.”

The plans fell into place. The girls would go over early Saturday morning and go home in the afternoon on Sunday, giving Aaron and Katelyn enough time to themselves. When the date was confirmed Andrew hadn’t so much as bat an eye at it, instead just marking the date on the calendar so that Neil wouldn’t forget it and helped get the guest bedroom ready for their visitors.

“Should we take them somewhere?” Neil asked one night while he watched Andrew make dinner. He’d been wondering for a while, because he wanted the girls to be entertained but not exhausted. They’d already decided they’d make pizza for food, let them find a movie to watch before going to bed, but they had no idea what to do during the day.

“Ask Aaron,” Andrew suggested.

“He blocked me,” Neil said, because it was true but also because he didn’t want to text Aaron for suggestions on how to keep his kids entertained.

“Sofia is obsessed with octopuses and Isla is four,” Andrew added, scooping some pasta onto plates. “Take them to the aquarium or museum.”

“Would you go too?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.” Neil grabbed his phone and started looking at the nearest aquarium’s website. He and Andrew had gone there before because Neil had wanted to pet the stingrays and Andrew admitted he wanted to see if Neil would touch one of their tails. Neil had been just slightly offended, because he wasn’t that stupid, but the thought of Sofia or Isla petting the stingrays was slightly worrying, because they may not know it would hurt.

“Stop worrying,” Andrew demanded, even though he was clearly anxious about the weekend as well.

“I’m not worrying,” Neil mumbled, putting his phone down and following Andrew to the table. He scooped up Sir and cuddled the cat to his chest as he sat down. “What if one of them is allergic to cats?”

“We’d know by now. Their dad is a doctor.”

Neil grumbled and released Sir when she squirmed too much, eating some of the pasta so he wouldn’t have to respond. “It’s their first sleepover. I want it to go well.”

Andrew didn’t reply to that, but he was far more helpful in figuring out things to do after that conversation.

They made sure to tell the girls what their plans were before the weekend. Katelyn reported that Sofia was ecstatic about seeing an octopus and all Isla cared about was seeing the ‘fishies’. Neil hoped it would take up most of their time that day so that they wouldn’t have to try to think of anywhere else to go afterwards, but he found other places to visit just in case. He located a zoo, museum, amusement park and even an art show before Andrew made him stop.

Though he tried to keep the day as normal as he could, Neil still got up a whole hour earlier than usual to take his run and attempted to make some eggs that burned when he got lost in thought. Andrew walked into the kitchen with a scowl and helped clean up the mess, making something actually edible with a mask of perfect calm. But Neil was an expert in Andrew’s facial expressions by now and could tell he was a bit nervous about what the day would bring.

Facing Riko? No problem. The mafia? Neil could deal with it any day. Watching two little blonde girls that said words like ‘fishies’? Neil felt like his heart could stop at any moment.

By ten in the morning they made it to Aaron and Katelyn’s, quickly getting their car seats settled into the Maserati - and wasn’t that hilarious - so they could leave. Isla hadn’t stopped chanting ‘sleepover’ since they arrived, and Sofia kept listing off everything she knew about octopuses and sea cucumbers. She even proudly showed off her drawing of a purple octopus, giving it to Andrew and pointing out every stick figure that was holding one of the octopus’ tentacles.

“See, that’s me and Isla, and Mommy and Daddy,” she explained, pointing at the stick figures individually. “And there’s Uncle Neil and you, Uncle Andrew! And I added King and Sir, even though they’d try to eat the octopus.”

Neil had never understood why anyone would put a kid’s drawing on a fridge, but that’s exactly what he wanted to do with Sofia’s drawing. Andrew was holding it so carefully it was as though the cardstock paper was made of glass. “Thank you, Sofia, this is very beautiful,” Neil said, patting her back.

Aaron snorted. Neil glared at him, mostly out of habit, breaking eye contact when Isla rushed to his side and grabbed his arm. “Wanna see the fishies,” she said.

Sofia gasped loudly. “Can we go see them now?”

“Of course. Just say goodbye to your mom and dad first,” Neil replied, gently pulling his arm from Isla’s grasp to grab the girl’s backpacks. He took them to the Maserati and loaded them in the backseat, watching how carefully Andrew folded up Sofia’s picture and put it in the glovebox.

Finally, they were ready to go. Katelyn gave Neil a list of where they were going and all the phone numbers they could use to get ahold of them if anything happened, reminding the girls to behave and go to sleep on time. They all left quickly after that, heading straight for the aquarium to (hopefully) get rid of all the energy Sofia and Isla had.

For a Saturday the place wasn’t busy. Andrew easily found a spot to park in and the girls were released, thankfully knowing not to run across a parking lot. Sofia was still babbling and Isla was much quieter, looking around a bit nervously and sticking by Andrew’s side. Neil heard her ask in her adorable high-pitched voice, “Uncle Andrew, can I hold your hand?” and thought his heart might’ve broken, especially when Andrew wordlessly took it as they walked towards the entrance to the building.

They got wristbands after paying and began to walk through. Neil only had to remind Sofia to stick close once, not wanting her to get lost in the small crowd. For a seven year old that really wanted to see the octopuses, she had an incredible amount of patience to not say anything as Isla gaped at the coral reefs they walked up to. She instead looked at the lists of fish available to look at, reading off just about every one perfectly.

“That one looks like Dory,” Isla said, pointing at a flat looking blue fish.

Neil didn’t know who ‘Dory’ was, so he simply agreed and got a small snort from Andrew for his trouble.

They continued on after the girls looked their fill, getting to larger fish that Sofia read were freshwater and lived in lakes. She also giggled at the fat looking fish and whispered to Neil about it. “Hey, this says there’s sharks in here,” she said with a frown, pointing at another list of fish. “Look, Uncle Neil. Sharks are s’posed to be in the ocean.”

“Not all sharks, I guess,” Neil replied, looking at what she was pointing at to appease her.

“Hmm,” the seven year old hummed. Neil wasn’t sure how she was able to make it sound so sassy and disbelieving at the same time.

Further down the long hallway were where the other sharks were. They got to walk through glass tunnels and listen to Isla point at every shark she saw, saying, “Hammerhead,” every time.

“What if the glass breaks?” Sofia whispered between the two of them.

“Then we’d go for a swim, I guess,” Neil replied.

Her head was craned back, just like her sister's, to watch the sharks swim over the top of the tunnel. “Here, Uncle Neil,” Sofia eventually said, holding out a hand. “Hold my hand so you don’t get scared.”

“Thanks, Sofia,” Neil said, taking the girl’s hand. She seemed less tense after that.

They moved more quickly past the sharks, making it to some smaller tanks. Those fish looked like the ones you could find at a pet store. Andrew lifted Isla so that she could get a better look at the tiny fish, her wide hazel eyes following every movement in the tank. Sofia was tall enough to not need such treatment to see into the tank.

The next tanks were even larger, full of more coral reefs. Sofia then declared everyone needed to be on the lookout for octopuses, since they could camouflage themselves and might be hard to see. Neil helped her look, not noticing anything out of the ordinary but also not entirely sure what he was looking for in the first place. Andrew and Isla stood further back, both watching Sofia and Neil get close to the glass as they searched for what they’d come for in the first place.

“Turtles!” Isla cheered after a full minute, letting go of Andrew’s hand to get closer to the glass. “Are they - are they as big as me?”

They certainly looked it. “You look like you could fit in a shell, Isla,” Neil told her. It made the four year old grin.

“No octopuses, Uncle Neil,” Sofia declared, getting to her feet and brushing dust off her pants. “We gotta keep moving.”

Next were tanks full of jellyfish that both girls got distracted by. It was strangely hypnotizing to watch them move. “There’s like a billion!” Isla whispered from where Andrew was holding her on his hip, allowing her to get a better view.

Neil was pretty sure the actual number was closer to a hundred, but he let her believe what she wanted. They moved on to the next tank, which appeared to be another coral reef of some kind. The fish here were even more colorful than in the previous tanks and in all shapes and sizes. Neil was distracted staring at Andrew, who was still carrying Isla and looking perfectly calm while doing so, when Sofia spotted her first octopus.

“It’s hiding!” she cheered, kneeling down to look at it through the glass. “Look, look! It’s moving!”

“Pretty cool, huh?” Neil asked, crouching down next to her.

“Uh huh!” Sofia replied with a giggle.

She seemed perfectly content to watch the octopus for a while longer. Andrew and Isla ended up turning to the other tank on the other side of the room that had seahorses. Eventually Sofia was done, dusting off her pants again as she got up and walked after the other two. There wasn’t much else to see, so before they knew it they had reached the gift shop. Neil checked the time and was glad to see they’d wasted a lot of time at the aquarium, and it was about mid-afternoon. They’d have to get the girls something to eat before they realized they were hungry.

“Want to pick something out?” Neil asked both the girls when he noticed Sofia staring at a huge octopus stuffed animal.

“Can I?” she asked, grabbing it. It was as large as her torso.

Isla picked out a seahorse that Andrew passed to her. She didn’t seem super interested in choosing something herself but she latched onto that stuffed animal as soon as it was in her arms. They paid and went to a small sandwich shop that was in a food court following the gift shop, bringing their food back to the Maserati. “Don’t make a mess,” Andrew told them.

“We won’t!” Sofia said for the two of them. Isla wordlessly agreed while she munched on her ham sandwich.

They went back to the apartment and brought the girl’s backpacks inside, leaving them on the couch. The cats had quickly jumped onto whatever high place they could, warily watching the girls that definitely noticed them but let them be. They’d both brought coloring books and other toys that they played with at the kitchen table, finishing eating their late lunch and babbling about what the aquarium was like as though Neil and Andrew hadn’t been there too. Neil just listened, definitely noticing when Andrew pulled out Sofia’s drawing and stuck it in front of their various notes left on the fridge.

“Can we go back?” Sofia asked.

“Some other time,” Neil promised her.

“See the fishies!” Isla cheered to herself.

Apparently both girls were still excited about fish, because when asked what movie they wanted to watch that night they both chose ‘Finding Nemo’. Andrew found it quickly and didn’t hesitate to tell the girls that Neil had never seen it, which seemed to shock them both to silence. Isla had been the first to speak up about it, telling Neil he just had to watch it ‘cause it was the greatest movie ever. So, he sat on the couch and watched.

He had to admit, it was good. Maybe a bit heavy for a children’s movie because of the whole ‘kidnapping’ thing, but good. When it was over they made their way to the kitchen, where everything was ready to make small homemade pizzas so that everyone could have their own. It was apparently a good idea, because Sofia seemed to care where every topping went and Isla didn’t seem to mind what ended up on her’s. They were put in the oven for a late dinner, so they found another children’s movie to watch. This time they both wanted ‘Frozen’, which was also the greatest movie ever. Neil had also not seen that one either, but managed to keep that to himself.

Another heavy children’s movie. Neil didn’t know if it was because of his own childhood that made him read too into the lines, but it made him wonder why Aaron and Katelyn would let the girls watch these in the first place. Then, after Anna went looking for her sister Elsa, Sofia looked across Isla to get Andrew’s attention. “Daddy said he and you are like Elsa and Anna, ‘cause you didn’t grow up together at first like they did.”

“Who’d he say I am?” Andrew asked, holding his head up with one arm propped on the couch’s arm rest.

“He said you’re Elsa.”

Andrew seemed smug. Neil figured he’d have to continue watching to find out why.

They paused halfway through to get their pizzas, cutting them into small pieces per the girls’ request, and ate while the rest of the movie played. He had to admit, he did not predict Hans would be the bad guy, so when he said, “Oh, Anna, if only there was someone out there who loved you,” he almost swore in front of the children.

“This is a kids movie,” Neil stated, watching Hans almost kill Elsa.

“Yes,” Andrew told him from the other end of the couch.

He almost swore again. Sure, it ended up happy, but shit.

They gave the girls ice cream and played the only board game Neil thought they would like when searching for things to entertain them: LIFE. He helped Sofia keep count of her finances and Isla moved the cars around the board more than playing, shuffling the little people into groups she explained were families. Andrew had the most money in the end, to which both Neil and Sofia scowled. “I’ll get you next time,” she declared, throwing her money on the board. “At least I got married.”

Andrew had remained stubbornly single in the game. Neil had tried his luck at the family routes and ended up landing on every ‘have a kid’ square. He was definitely the poorest. “Uncle Andrew doesn’t know fun,” he whispered to Sofia. Andrew just shrugged.

“Are you guys married?” she asked.

“No.”

“Are you gonna have kids?”

“Probably not.”

Sofia frowned. “But then what do you do on Father’s Day?”

“Sleep in?” Neil asked more than answered, looking at Andrew for help. He didn’t get any.

Sofia mumbled to herself, starting to help put away the board game while Isla handed over the people pieces. “I’ll make you guys a Father’s Day gift next time.”

“Alright.”

Bed time was supposed to be around 8:30 at the latest, so of course that was when they only just started getting ready. Isla was yawning as she got changed and brushed her teeth, and Sofia seemed to lose some of her energy as well. They got into the bed Neil and Andrew had gotten ready for them, snuggling up under the covers. Isla seemed to fall asleep immediately, but not before saying goodnight.

“Thanks for taking us to the ‘quarium, Uncle Neil,” Sofia whispered when Neil tucked her in.

“Sure thing, sweetie.”

She sat up, undoing his work. “Goodnight kisses?”

After a moment of hesitation, Neil leaned forward, letting her press a quick kiss to his cheek. Andrew had been leaning against the door the whole time, but it only took one look from the girl to get him to enter the room and let her do the same. After that she settled down, letting the blankets be tucked around her, and said goodnight.

Once they were back in their own room, Neil smirked and leaned into Andrew’s space. “Can I have a goodnight kiss?”

“Should’ve known this was a bad idea,” Andrew seemed to say to himself, but he looked right into Neil’s eyes and nudged their noses. “Yes?”

“Yes,” Neil agreed, leaning into his kiss.

They got ready for bed themselves not too long later, each of them tired from the day. Neil fell asleep pretty quickly, but woke up what felt like not long after. He was a light sleeper because he once had to be, so he was wide awake for when their door creaked open and Isla hesitantly walked into their room. He waited, listening for what she would do, but didn’t want to scare her away. He could feel that Andrew was awake on his other side.

She crossed over to him, whispering quietly, “Uncle Andrew?” Andrew must’ve opened his eyes, because just a second later she said, “I think there’s a monster in the room.”

Andrew didn’t say anything, but just got out of bed and walked her back to the guest room. Neil waited, hearing them move around there and then out to the rest of the apartment. He gave them some more time alone and finally got out of bed himself, taking a moment to rub any sleep he still had from his eyes, and went to the kitchen. Isla was sitting on the counter, holding a large spoon and getting some chocolate ice cream all over her face. Andrew stood right next to her, his pint of ice cream on the counter.

“It’s, like, three AM,” Neil pointed out, walking until he was next to them both.

“Isla thought there was a monster in the room,” Andrew reported while eating some more ice cream.

Isla nodded to confirm the story. “It was just King. But she was scary looking.”

“How did she get in there?” Neil asked, ruffling Isla’s blonde curls. “She was scary enough that you needed some ice cream?”

“Uncle Andrew said it was okay.”

Neil didn’t argue. He put the lid on the pint and returned it to the freezer, coming back with a washcloth and wiping away the ice cream left on Isla’s cheeks. “Too much sugar will give you cavities.”

“Daddy says that,” Isla murmured. “Are we goin’ home tomorrow?”

“Yes,” Neil confirmed, lifting the girl up and carrying her back to the guest room. “Your mom and dad will pick you up after breakfast.”

“Okay,” she whispered, getting under the covers and holding the seahorse she’d gotten that day close to her chest. “Night, night.”

“Goodnight,” Neil said, leaning back. Andrew brushed some of Isla’s hair away from her face and poked her seahorse, making her giggle slightly. They then went back to their room and got in bed again. Neil quickly fell asleep, but he was sure Andrew didn’t for a while.

The next morning, he decided to not go on his run and instead laid in bed long enough that Andrew got up before him. Just when he was sitting up in bed, Neil made a big show of stretching, grinning over his shoulder. Andrew just narrowed his eyes and got to his feet, leaving the room. Neil snickered to himself and followed him to the kitchen.

The girls came out not long later, rubbing their eyes and yawning. Their hair was a complete mess and the blankets had left red lines on their faces, but they perked up the moment they noticed Andrew was making pancakes. “You have to add chocolate chips, Uncle Andrew,” Sofia told him, sitting down at the table. “Otherwise they’re not real pancakes.”

“You’re right,” Andrew agreed, going to the pantry and adding more than what was already there to the batter. Neil considered taking a picture and sending it to Kevin, but didn’t.

After breakfast, both Neil and Andrew made sure that the girls were cleaned up for the day, faces washed and teeth brushed. They both changed into what they had brought and watched some other movie while they waited for Aaron and Katelyn to arrive. They did around noon, entering the apartment and getting bombarded by the two girls who babbled on about what was at the aquarium and the stuffed animals they’d gotten from the gift shop.

Aaron blinked slowly at the sight of the large octopus that Sofia had. She was grinning brightly and declared its name was Purps, because of the lilac shade the stuffed animal was. Isla held tightly to her seahorse, whispering that its name was Fishie. Neil snorted when he heard and told her it was a great name.

“Did you have fun?” Katelyn asked, brushing Isla’s hair with her fingers.

“Yes!” both the girls replied, pulling their packed backpacks over their shoulders.

“Uncle Neil promised we’d go to the aquarium again,” Sofia declared.

“Something to look forward to at your next sleepover,” Aaron told her.

Neil was thrown off at the thought of another sleepover. “Oh, okay.”

“Say goodbye to your uncles, girls.”

Both Neil and Andrew had to lean down so that the two could press quick kisses to their cheeks, saying goodbye and running down the hallway. Katelyn and Aaron left not long after, saying a quick ‘thank you’, and then the door was closed and the place was quiet. A lot quieter, actually. Neil turned from the door and glanced at the fridge, where Sofia’s picture was still hanging.

“We don’t want kids, right?” he asked Andrew, mostly to confirm it.

Andrew just shrugged and turned towards the bedroom.

“Andrew? Andrew, that’s not an answer. Come on - yes or no? Andrew!”

#aftg fanfic #aftg #aftg prompts #andriel #andreil #tfc #tfc fanfic #the foxhole court #jinger's works

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femmeharringrove · 4 years ago

Text

when steve goes into labor early, he finds himself craving his mother's presence in a way he never has before.

he's always loved her, even if she never really loved him. growing up, she always just sort of avoided him - his eyes were so big and open and honest as he toddled about proclaiming his own love for just about everything under the sun - his nonna, the roses growing, and his mama. and she knew she should have loved him. hell, she wanted to love him, but she just couldn't. and since she couldn't love this little being who seemed entirely made up of love, she distanced herself.

and maybe as a child he didn't know, he was gullible enough to believe that she was just busy, just couldn't come play or couldn't help him plant a new flower, but he grew up and he saw everyone else's mother do so much better. and it stung. it did worse than sting, it ached in a way he just couldn't explain. and when he was fourteen he finally broke down and asked her why she didn't love him, and he'd hoped that she'd tell him otherwise but she was drunk and all she could do was break down and cry and ask for his forgiveness. she didn't remember it the next morning but steve's been haunted by the memory ever since, the knowledge that his mother doesn't love him.

of course he always knew his father despised him, there was no question of that. and now that he's having a baby of his own his aversion to the elder Harrington has only worsened. john harrington is a cruel being, he never should have been allowed near ant child, and steve was determined to keep him away from this one no matter what. he's already told the man he won't be allowed in the hospital, but his mother is supposed to be there. but it's the dead of night and the baby is coming early and as much as he cries for her there's no possible way to get her there in time.

still, billy's heart tugs at the way steve whimpers and says "i - i need her." but the thing is, billy knows the infamous misses harrington. and she doesn't deserve to be there when steve gives birth. but he knows exactly who does.

he does feel a little guilty about calling at such a ridiculous hour, but he isn't surprised when joyce answers, soft and groggy.

"hello?"

and billy pauses, because he doesn't know how to word this. he doesn't know how to tell her that steve's hours away from being a father instead of week, that he's crying for someone who doesn't love him, that billy himself is a little terrified. but in the end it just comes out on its own.

"he needs his mom."

and so joyce shows up at four in the morning and steve sobs against her because he's only ever been ready for the theoreticals. this isn't him reading a book on pregnancy, this isn't one of the kind mothers of hawkins sharing their delivery stories. this is steve, his stomach contracting miserably, his back and hips screaming, his heart racing because he's about to be in possession of a tiny little human being who's going to need him for everything. and this is also steve, barely in the third decade of his life, no real plan for his own future, staying up most nights because he's scared of monsters - monsters he'll now have to protect his baby from. and he doesn't know how to put those fears into words so all he can do is cry, and joyce, she gets it, she always does, and so she strokes his hair and soothes his fears as best she can.

and then there's claudia of course, who's been there since steve's first ultrasound, and she never leaves his room for long, not if she can help it. she holds his hand and wipes his tears and steve feels safe. claudia's always called him the older son she never had, and he feels more like steve henderson than steve harrington in those moments.

the kids won't leave either, because of course they won't. eleven and will overheard joyce on the phone the night before and when hopper tries to get them to school they outright beg to stay home because focusing is impossible knowing their honorary neice or nephew could be born at any second. and hop wants to make them go, but ultimately he can't. and once they get the all-clear, they call the others, and the next thing steve knows he's surrounded by a gang of not-quite teenagers looking him over for any problems and loudly expressing their excitement. and it's endearing, because it reminds steve that this kid has a plethora of babysitters at the ready - even if mike tries to act like he doesn't care, which is decidedly false judging from the panic that crosses his face when steve's hit with a nasty contraction.

dustin refuses to go home even as night falls, and max tells susan she's spending the night with eleven - which is true, but they're both staying at the hospital as well, hopper watching them while joyce stays firmly by steve's side.

on his right, as has been the case for the entirety of his pregnancy, is billy. holding his hand, pushing his hair out of his face, comforting and praising him through steve's low whines and pained groans. he doesn't know how many hours he spends pushing but it hurts like nothing else, like his body is being torn from the inside, and he wants it to stop but he needs to keep going. so he does, he grits his teeth and he pushes through everything, and in the end he's rewarded with the first wail of a human being.

and he doesn't cry right away.

not that he can, his body is catching up with that the hell just happened, his breath is still coming in quick, shaky gasps, and he feels like he's only hearing joyce, not listening. nothing feels right until he's given the solid six-pound weight of his baby on his chest. she's so pink, and her cries are subsiding slowly, but steve runs a trembling hand over the top of her head and realizes she's got the same dark fuzz from all of his baby pictures and then it smacks him in the gut.

this baby is his.

and he holds her close and cries because the amount of love in his chest is too much, he hurts with the intensity of it.

nikita rosaline harrington is her name, and billy tears up a little bit because of it. she's a pretty little thing, her nose is tiny and scrunches up whenever billy runs a fingertip down the tiny bridge of it. she's got her father's eyes too, big and brown and curious, billy's never seen anything more precious - or he thinks so, until he watches steve stare at her with the same eyes and nearly has a heart attack at how sweet the two of them are. and he doesn't need to complicate things right now, not when steve's finally catching his breath after months of hardship, but he knows in his heart this is his family. that's his baby, that's his - well, his steve. and he kisses them both on the forehead and promises he'll take care of them. he's not the dick responsible for knocking steve up, but it's an honor to do this, to step in.

to prove he's not like neil. he can be a dad, and a damn good one at that.

and steve, who doesn't even like letting nancy drive the party to the arcade without him being there, he trusts billy wholeheartedly to raise this baby with him. billy doesn't take that lightly.

joyce and claudia spend a good hour fawning over nikita, they've gotten her so many gifts and she ends up in the little cap claudia made and the outfit joyce got. max and eleven are just as thrilled, max kisses her chubby little cheeks and eleven stares at steve in awe for literally creating a life. will talks to her quietly and holds her like he never wants to let go, even though he does in order to let hopper hold niki for a bit.

there's never been a question about who her grandfather is. neil and john are simply unfit, and hopper's been a pseudo-dad to billy and steve, he's the only one who gets the grandfather status. there's a whole mix of emotion on his face as he bounces the cooing baby, telling her how nice it is to finally meet her and how he's gonna enjoy spoiling her rotten. when he finally gives her back to steve, the man has tears in his eyes.

"you did good, kid," he tells steve, runs a heavy hand over his hair before patting billy on the shoulder.

dustin holds her the longest, of course. he quickly comes to adore the fit of his finger in her curled palm, and he tells her about all the things he's going to teach her as she grows up. steve's fondly amused at how easily dustin takes to carrying nikita, in the same way steve got used to dragging dustin around. every time the curly-haired kid remembers to look up at the other people in the room, he gives steve the brightest grin, eyes crinkled with merriment.

"you have the coolest dad ever, niki," he informs her proudly, and steve's finally beyond the need for cool points but it's touching nonetheless.

mike and lucas meet her in the morning, and lucas immediately charms the baby with a little song as he rocks her back and forth. he declares himself the fun uncle, which dustin protests, but steve and billy know lucas is correct. mike is the only one who just knows how to hold a baby, thanks to a baby sister, so he takes nikita from lucas like it's nothing and stares at her little face for a long time. the emotion there isn't something steve can read, but he sees the way mike draws her closer after a moment and smiles.

mike's a protector, even if he likes to act like he doesn't care sometimes. and steve, who's just as protective, knows that niki is beyond safe with him.

when robin meets the baby she nearly screams. but then she remembers how new those little ears are and settles for the biggest grin as she swipes niki from billy and walks about, cooing all sorts of nonsense to her little neice. "she's too cute," she gushes, planting a kiss to the baby's forehead. "i'm taking her home. sorry, dingus." and steve protests, but they both know she isn't about to walk out of there with a baby. robin loves kids, but she doesn't think motherhood is for her.

it's certainly not for everyone. and that thought doesn't occur to steve until his mother shows up, nearly a day after niki is born.

he watches her go to pick nikita up and his heart twists and he wants to reach over and take her back. his hands stay clenched under the blanket as the woman smiles at the baby, then at steve himself.

"you made a cute one, i'm not surprised," she muses, and then she says, "don't you just love her?"

and steve, he can't really respond to that.

billy's his saving grace, picks up on the shift and ends up gently convincing misses harrington to come back another time. when he turns back to steve, the brunette has tears already streaming down his face.

"why couldn't she -?" he tries, but billy doesn't need him to finish that sentence. he moves closer and wraps steve up in his arms and for the first time decides that he hates both harringtons, not just john.

because steve's easily the most loveable soul he's ever stumbled across. he looks at nikita and all he can see is a little steve, and he hates the boy's parents for refusing to love the vulnerable little soul they brought into the world.

#steebie writes #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things au #co parenting au #harringrove #steve harrington #billy hargrove

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toomany-selfships · 4 years ago

Text

Pye Family AU - Birthday Headcanons

It’s my birthday and in order to cope I’m dumping this on y’all.

Hello TYO fandom, it’s the weirdo who rarely posts about how she’s a tad too fond of Neil Pye again. :) Also if you don’t know, the “Pye Family AU” is the name I’ve given my self ship/self insert AU.

Warning: Neil and I have a child because I like to pROJECT. So if you don’t like fan children or anything involving canon x OC relationships then just shhh please. (No one’s said anything mean yet, but I always get nervous.)

ANYWAYS, let’s finally get into the actual Headcanons why don’t we. Bullet point format bc idk how to write lately.

*Shane Madej voice* Here we go!

The day begins with Neil waking up to a toddler tugging on his sleeve.

He has to blink a few times before his three year old daughter comes into focus. She smiles brightly at Neil and whispers (rather loudly), “Papa! It’s Mummy’s birthday!”

Neil smiles back at the gleam in his daughter’s eyes. “Yes, babybee, it is mummy’s birthday.”

“We have to make her breakfast and a card before she wakes up!” Ophelia tugs harder on her father’s sleeve, causing him to finally get out of bed.

Before he leaves the bedroom, Neil gives his wife a kiss on her head and then he and Ophelia do their regular morning routine.

Once the pair make it to the kitchen they begin making french toast. [This means that Neil did most of the cooking. Ophelia got to pour in ingredients though!!]

“Papa, why doesn’t mummy like her birthday?” Ophelia innocently asks.

[Cue Neil PANICKING because how does he answer that to a four year old???]

“She just doesn’t, honey. But I’m certain she’ll love a card from you. Do you need help making it?”

[Great save, Mr. Pye.]

SO Neil writes “Happy Birthday Mummy” on a card and Ophelia begins scribbling away in the living room.

Eventually we have Mrs. Pye herself shuffling out of her bedroom with a sleepy smile. “French toast. Must be a special occasion.”

Ophelia gets up and screams “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” as loudly as she possibly can while excitingly showing her mother the scribbly card.

“Oh, right…Thank you baby.”

Mr. and Mrs. Pye exchange proper good morning kisses and everyone eats breakfast.

“Mummy, why don’t you like your birthday?”

[Again, Neil’s panicking.] “I dunno, baby, I just don’t. My birthday makes me sad, I suppose.”

“But birthdays are supposed to be FUN!”

“They are. Mummy has fun on your birthday, and on Daddy’s birthday, and sometimes on her own birthday. But it just makes her sad sometimes.”

Ophelia’s little baby wheels are turning for the rest of breakfast, but things go on like usual once cartoons are involved.

The day goes on as usual until Rick and Vyvyan come over.

Vyvyan’s obnoxiously singing happy birthday as he just walks right into the house as if he owns the fuckin place. Rick’s yelling at him to knock it off.

Rick still brought presents though bc 1. He loves gift giving and 2. It’s been a whole week since he saw his goddaughter last, she needs a new teddy bear.

(Rick darling she’s 3, she won’t love you any less if you don’t bring her a new teddy every other time you see her. I promise.)

[Also cue Rick being all “I KNOW you don’t like it when I buy you birthday presents but shut up and look at the leather bound journal I got you. I know you’ll fill it in less than a month but it’s the thought that counts.”]

ANYWAYS. Neil makes dinner and the adults have a few drinks and chat. [Vyvyan ends up preforming Teddy Bear Surgery because one of Ophelia’s bears had a small tear.]

Dinner goes smoothly then BOOM. Neil secretly bought a birthday cake. (Just kidding everything’s still fine.)

More obnoxious happy birthday singing.

When it’s time to put Ophelia to bed she sleepily asks her mother “Did this birthday make you sad?”

(Oh my heart—) “No, baby. This birthday didn’t make me sad.”

“Promise?”

“Pinky promise.”

(Yes I’m sobbing shut up.)

Rick and Vyvyan stay for a few more hours and then they go home too.

Neil watches as his wife begins tidying up the living room a bit with the most loving and affectionate smile. “Did you mean what you said to Ophelia earlier?”

“Yea, actually. For once my birthday wasn’t complete dog shit.”

Neil laughs and puts on the radio. We end the night slow dancing together in the living room bc I said so.

#self ship #self ship community #self shipping #neil pye #self insert community #the young ones #ophelia pye #pye family au #fanchild #fankid #vyvyan basterd #rick pratt

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just-a-poor-boy-queen · 4 years ago

Note

I'm sorry to hear you've had a bad day. I hope this makes you feel a bit better 💜

Part 20 of Jimercury Kid series

‘I’m going to die.’ Freddie whined dramatically from the sofa, arching his back as Jim walked through the door with a tray of tea and biscuits, carefully setting it on the coffee table in front of the singer. ‘I’m not sure how much more of this pain I can take, darling.’

‘I know, love.’ Jim replied softly, placing another pillow under Freddie’s head. ‘But that’s what happens when you decide to do acrobatics on stage when there are wires lying around.’

‘It was entirely Roger’s fault.’ Freddie huffed. ‘He could have warned me that his drumkit was a danger zone.’

Jim chuckled and kissed his husband’s forehead. ‘The doctor said you’ll be right as rain in a few weeks, so long as you get plenty of rest and keep up the physio.’

The Persian grumbled, ‘I hate rest.’ Then he looked up at Jim with an accusatory glare. ‘And I can’t believe you’re abandoning me to galivant off and cut people’s hair! The audacity.’

Freddie hadn’t been all that pleased when Jim announced that he had accepted a weekend job at the barber shop down the road. The Irishman had befriended the owner, Carl Pritchard, in a bar a few months ago and while he had declined the offer of a full-time job (he still had the garden to think about and Khaleel to look after when Freddie was at the studio,) he was more than happy to lend Carl a hand every Saturday, when the shop was at its busiest.

Khaleel hadn’t been too happy about it either; he was used to Jim being around 24/7 and the sudden change of routine caused him a great amount of stress. Jim was almost late on his first day of the job because his son had cried and refused to let go of his leg. But eventually, the boy begrudgingly accepted it and Jim was able to pacify his separation anxiety with the promise of bringing home a treat when he was finished at work.

‘You’re just saying that because you’re jealous.’ Jim teased, dodging as Freddie attempted to swat his backside. ‘You think I’m going to fall head over heels for Carl’s dashing good looks and run off into the sunset with him.’

Freddie pouted like a child and crossed his arms. ‘So, you do think he’s good looking.’

Jim chuckled and dropped a kiss into his husband’s dark head of hair. ‘I’m old enough to be his dad, sweetheart. Besides, he’s really not my type.’

‘I wasn’t your type either and you still went for me.’

‘Well, how could I possibly resist? Have you seenyour arse?’

He roared with laughter as Freddie attempted to swat him again, but this time the singer grabbed his hand and pulled him down to kiss his lips.

‘Do you love me?’ he whispered once they had parted, brown eyes staring into Jim’s own almost fearfully. They had been together for almost ten years now, and yet he still needed that reassurance.

‘To the moon and back.’ Jim replied, leaning down for a much deeper kiss. He could have stayed like that all day, but a quick glance at his watch told him that he was already pushing it for time.

‘I’ll be back about six.’ He placed one final kiss against Freddie’s forehead before heading to the hallway to grab his coat. ‘I’ve left the shop’s number by the phone in case there’s an emergency. Try not to have too much fun without me.’

‘Very funny.’ Freddie sniggered as Jim blew him a kiss and turned the keys in the door. ‘Have a good day, darling. Don’t snip any ears off.’

The last thing he heard was Jim shouting goodbye to Khaleel up the stairs – which was quickly followed with a cheerful, ‘bye Daddy!’ – before the door was pulled shut. Freddie sighed and stretched his sore back, wishing he could at least hobble over to the piano and belt out a few show tunes to take his mind off the pain. He hated being alone; Phoebe was in town with friends and Khaleel had been colouring upstairs for most of the afternoon. He knew that colouring was one of the ways his bijou coped with Jim’s absence, so he didn’t want to disturb him.

Well, since he was bedbound (or in this case, sofa bound) he might as well catch forty winks. After finishing his tea and munching on a biscuit, he plumped up his pillows, propped his feet up on the armrest and did his best to ignore the constant throbbing in his lower back as he slowly drifted off to sleep.

Freddie was awoken by the sound of the phone ringing in the hallway, and he groggily rose from the sofa to go and answer it.

‘It’s Bernie, Bernie Morris.’ Said the voice on the other end of the line. ‘I know you usually have your physio on Sundays, but my 2 o’clock just cancelled and I don’t have any other appointments today. Would you like to take the slot?’

‘Oh darling, that would be wonderful.’ Freddie sighed in relief, rubbing his back as he spoke. ‘It’s really acting up today. I could use your magic hands.’

Bernie chucked jovially. ‘Alright then, see you in twenty.’

Bernard Morris was a tall, broad, cheerful man, recommended to Freddie by Doctor Atkinson after he had his accident. The vocalist had been apprehensive at first, thinking he could simply deal with the pain on his own; but he eventually relented when it became unbearable and had agreed to six weeks’ worth of sessions, so long as he could do it in the comfort of his own home. So far, Bernie’s methods had proved remarkably effective; Freddie’s back still hurt like hell, but he always felt slightly more relieved once he had been stretched and bent over a few times by a handsome looking man.

‘Thank you so much for this, darling.’ Said Freddie, as Bernie laid the exercise mat out on the floor and shifted the coffee table over to give them more space. ‘I was doing well for a couple of days but last night it started hurting like a bastard. I made the mistake of lifting Khaleel up too quickly during playtime.’

‘It’s no bother at all.’ Replied Bernie. ‘How’s the family? I still have yet to meet your little man.’

‘He’s very shy, our Kenny.’ Freddie chuckled fondly. ‘He’s been a bit clingy lately because of this new job Jim has taken up. He’s not used to him being away and he’s finding it hard to understand.’

‘Poor thing.’ Said Bernie sympathetically. ‘My little girl was the same when I started working full-time. But they get used to it eventually. Now,’ he cracked his knuckles, ‘shall we get started?’

‘Abso-fucking-lutely.’ Freddie said with a laugh and carefully laid himself down on the mat.

Khaleel let out a soft yawn as he finally finished colouring in Goliath’s bright yellow eyes and carefully added the picture to the pile of cat drawings he had been working on all afternoon. He didn’t like it when Daddy went to work; he was used to Baba being away, even though he missed him, but Daddy was always there and suddenly not having him around all day made Khaleel confused and scared.

His tummy began to rumble, so he hopped off his bed and carefully climbed down the staircases to tell his Baba that he would like a snack. But when he reached the bottom of the stairs, he heard a strange noise coming from the lounge. The door was open a crack, so Khaleel peeped through curiously.

Baba was lying on the floor and a strange man was sitting on top of him, pulling on his leg. Baba was moaning in pain, his arm flying up to cover his eyes as the strange man continued to push on his leg until his knee reached his chest, before stopping and doing the same with the other one. Baba started to cry a little, and the man said something, though Khaleel couldn’t hear what it was. The boy felt his tiny heart racing. There was a strange man in the house, and he was hurting his Baba. Daddy and Uncle Phoebe weren’t here to protect them. He wanted to run into the lounge and jump on the horrible man, but his feet were frozen to the floor, unable to move.

Then he remembered the phone. Daddy and Baba had taught him how to use it, though he was only supposed to use it in emergencies, and he was never to call 999 unless he really needed to. Daddy had left his work number beside the telephone in the hall, so Khaleel quickly hurried to it and stood up on his tiptoes to grab the handset. He stared hard at the numbers on the little piece of paper and slowly began pressing the buttons. (1/2)

Jim had to admit that it felt good cutting hair again.

Pritchard & Sons was nothing like the Savoy; it was small and intimate, with a far more welcoming atmosphere and friendly regulars who were always happy to make conversation. He instantly felt at home in the place and found himself actually looking forward to working on a Saturday; despite his full-time commitment to the garden, he had been longing for a change of scenery as of late, and this job offer was exactly what he needed.

He was busy brushing away the stray hairs from the shop floor when the telephone at the front desk began to ring. Carl was nowhere to be seen and his two co-workers, Simon and Neil, were busy with clients, so he set his broom against the wall and crossed over to the desk, picking up the handset before it could ring off.

‘Pritchard & Sons, how can I help you?’

‘Daddy?’ Came a small voice from the other end of the line.

Jim was taken back a second, as if he was hearing things. ‘Kenny? Is that you? Kenny, you shouldn’t be calling Daddy at work, he’s very busy.’

‘Daddy, I need help.’ The little boy whimpered in response.

‘Sweetheart, if you need help with something, ask your Baba-’

‘There’s a strange man in the house.’ Khaleel started to sob, his voice a terrified whisper, as if he was worried about being heard. ‘There’s a strange man and he’s hurting Baba.’

Jim felt his blood run cold. ‘W-what do you mean? Where’s Baba, Kenny?’

‘In the lounge. The man is on top of him, and Baba is crying.’

Oh Jesus. Jim began to shake, sweat beading his forehead as a million images flashed before his eyes. He knew he couldn’t let Khaleel hear the fear in his voice, otherwise it would just panic the little boy further. ‘Sweetheart, listen to me. I need you to go upstairs into your bedroom and hide under your bed, okay? Daddy’s coming, everything’s going to be okay.’

Khaleel continued to sob. ‘Daddy, please hurry.’‘

‘Please, Kenny, do as I say. Hang up the phone and go upstairs as quietly as you can. I promise I’ll be home soon.’

There was a loud sniff, before Khaleel mumbled, ‘hurry, Daddy,’ and the line went dead.

‘Tell Carl there’s been an emergency!’ Jim yelled over the counter to Simon, as he raced to the hat stand and grabbed his coat, racing through the door before he even got a response. He cursed as he fumbled with his car keys, almost dropping them into the gutter as his hands trembled violently; as soon as he was in the driver’s seat, he slammed his foot on the accelerator and sped down the road.

-----

As soon as he reached Garden Lodge, Jim immediately went around the back entrance, not wanting to alert the intruder by ringing the bell. As soon as he had turned the key in the back door, he immediately called for Freddie, feeling his heart sink when he didn’t receive a response. He slowly walked down the hallway, glancing into every room in case someone leapt out and attacked him, until he reached the kitchen and quickly armed himself with a large knife that had been left sitting on the counter. He prayed that he wouldn’t have to use it.

‘Freddie!’ he cried out again, almost in tears, the hand holding the knife shaking so hard it was a miracle he didn’t drop it.

The kitchen door suddenly swung open behind him, and he yelled in surprise, whipping round, knife clasped in both hands and pointed straight at his would-be assailant.

There was a high-pitched shriek and a crash, and only then did Jim realise it was Freddie, clad in one of his silk kimonos and surrounded by broken teacups. They both stood there, frozen, as Jim looked his husband up and down; Freddie appeared unhurt, though shell-shocked, the tray he had been carrying now lying at his feet amongst shards of china.

‘Jim!’ Freddie screamed, once he had overcome his initial shock. ‘What the bloody hell are you doing?!’

Jim didn’t respond. He dropped the knife immediately, letting it clatter against the kitchen tiles as he ran to Freddie and scooped him into his arms, hugging him fiercely. His husband let out a surprised squeak as he was suddenly lifted off the floor and he quickly wound his legs around Jim’s hips before the younger man dropped him on his arse. It felt like Jim stood there forever, holding onto Freddie tightly, swaying back and forth like he did when soothing Khaleel to sleep.

‘Darling?’ Freddie finally whispered into Jim’s flushed ear. ‘Darling, what’s going on? What was all that about?’

Jim finally released his husband, brushing away the tears that had fallen down his cheeks as he cupped Freddie’s face and looked desperately into his eyes. ‘Are you alright? Are you hurt?’

Freddie looked baffled. ‘Hurt? Of course not! Why would I be hurt? And what are you even doing here? I thought you didn’t finish work until six.’

The Irishman’s heart finally began to relax as he took a moment to process this information. ‘Khaleel called the shop. He said there was a man in here and he was hurting you. I got here as fast as I could.’

Freddie stared at him with wide eyes, looking like a deer in headlights. ‘Oh my God…Jim, that was Bernie. Bernie Morris, my physiotherapist. He’s in the conservatory, I was just about to make us some more tea.’

Jim looked like he was about to collapse to the floor. He leaned back against the counter, colour finally returning to his face as he realised that Freddie and Khaleel had never been in any danger. All the horrifying scenarios that had been playing in his mind finally ceased to be.

‘Oh God…’ he covered his eyes with his hands, taking deep, uneven breaths, ‘I thought some psycho had broken in, I thought…’ He cut off, not wanting to even consider what could have happened.

Freddie carefully stepped over the mess on the floor, careful not to cut his bare feet as he approached him and put his arms around Jim’s neck, gently kissing his forehead. ‘You really would have killed a man just to protect me?’

Jim removed his hands from his eyes and replied without any hesitation. ‘Absolutely. The bastard wouldn’t have known what hit him.’

Freddie chucked softly, ‘my knight in shining armour.’ Then suddenly his eyes went wide. ‘Kenny! Where’s Kenny?’

‘I told him to go upstairs and hide under his bed.’ Replied Jim. ‘Come on, let’s go and get him. He’s scared out of his wits.’

-----

It had taken a while to coax Khaleel out from underneath his bed. But his parents eventually managed to convince him that the mean man downstairs was actually a very nice man, who was helping Baba get better, and the only reason Baba had been crying in the lounge was because his back hurt so much. They praised him for being such a brave boy and using the phone to call for help when he thought it was needed. Khaleel eventually crawled out and let Freddie carry him downstairs.

He hid in face in Freddie’s shoulder when he saw Bernie, his body trembling in fear. But he gradually looked up when Bernie started chatting to him, realising this strange man wasn’t really that scary up close. By the time Phoebe arrived home from town, Kenny was sitting on Bernie’s lap, giggling as the man held one of his soft toys, pretending to make it talk in a deep gruff voice.

‘What happened here?’ Phoebe asked as he walked into the kitchen to see Jim sweeping up the broken china into a dustpan.

‘Long story.’ Was all the Irishman said in reply. (2/2)

--------------------------------------------------

Aww an extra long update! I loved it😊 It was exactly what I needed after the exhausting day I've had, thank you for making me smile with this part (and all your stories everyday).

I was happy to see Jim take up a part time job of a hairdresser. I've often wondered about that in Freddie!lives scenarios. I think one of the reasons why Jim took up the job of the gardener at GL is to be close to Freddie who had received his diagnosis by that time, if I'm not wrong.

And aww, baby Khaleel being so smart and calling up his father when he saw that his baba was in danger. And ofc, Jim being ready to do absolutely anything to keep his family safe... my heart.

And lol, I can see Phoebe rolling his eyes in the kitchen like, "I take one day off..."

(More drabbles by writer anon)

#ask response #jim hutton #freddie mercury #anon writing #freddie and jim and their baby

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passivenovember · 5 years ago

Text

The Skull on the Shelf that Bares My Name

This is my first time posting a fic on tumblr, so. Here goes nothing

Billy was like an oil painting that had been around for a thousand years. Pretty in the right lighting, hideous in the swell of nightfall. All rough edges and smeared color, full of broken things inside that cut through the air and rattled around like shattered glass whenever anyone got too close, bristling and blowing with the 75mph wind that tumbled through his soul.

Billy thought it was breathtaking.

Thought he was breathtaking with split knuckles and broken ribs. Matted hair tangled with dried blood. Busted lips painted red, color spilling down his chin when he smiled too wide at his reflection.

He liked it messy and hideous.

Did everything he could to destroy the precious image, the golden boy.

He had always been pretty. Like a girl; sparkly eyes and curly hair. Neil had always old him someone would come along and color outside the lines, scribble over the image his mother had left behind and Billy had always been so breakable in the face of adversity.

Flinching against hurt and agony until it became commonplace. Until he grew tired of gluing himself back together every night under the light of the moon.

His face was beautiful like a sculpture carved from stone, or a window into the face of his mother and her mother, but.

Billy himself was like a cardboard box full of glass.

The Billy on the inside was sharp.

And crude.

And violent, when the mood struck him. Ask anyone and they'd tell you; guy's like a train barreling through an apartment building.

And he was.

A glorious, terrible, beautiful, ravenous storm brewing in the open sea.

Billy hadn't known girls could be hazardous.

He knew they were soft. Pretty, delicate and sometimes tough when they had to be. His mother had been like that--brazen. Flighty and aggressive in a different way, like when the sun emerges from the clouds and shines too brightly.

She was warm and loving.

Perfect in her femininity. Billy looked nothing like his mother because she dressed like a wood nymph, all sheer fabric and dresses that defied gravity. Her hair was blonde and curly, always pinned back with clips and beautiful scarves and Billy wanted desperately to look like her.

Film star beauty.

Painted lips, soft hands. When she threw herself off the bridge he brushed his fingertips over the fabric in her closet and tried to imagine what it would feel like to have the world at your feet.

She was so beautiful it felt like swallowing tar.

Hot and boiling on a summer's day.

Billy pulled something from the rack, ran his fingers around the liquid soft fabric of his mother's favorite dress; the white one with the pearl neckline that felt like water settling around his shoulders. They said she was going to be buried in this one and Billy hated it.

Hated that something so beautiful, so delicate would rot away in the cool, damp earth.

He sat in front of her vanity and watched the light twinkle against the jewels that littered the countertop; rubies, emeralds, opal stone cut into neat shapes. When he was a child Billy's mother would let him play with her rings because they made good skipping stones in the pond out back.

We'll always find more, his mother would say, and it was true. Neil spared no expense in making her shine like a million stars as if she didn't already steal the air from every room.

Pocket it in her velvet handbags for safekeeping.

Billy put a ring on each finger and studied his reflection in the pristine vintage mirror.

He looked like a rat.

A rat in a pretty dress, playing pretend for a day.

The front door slammed open and Billy put the dress back on the hanger.

The girl on the T.V. wasn't like his mother at all.

Not soft or feminine, but smoldering. Alight with power and freedom as she strutted around the stage. She looked like her eyes were swimming in water; thick black makeup smudged around green orbs, hair messy and tangled, legs littered bruises that peaked through the holes in her stockings as the lights threw her into disarray.

Slut kiss girls won't you promise her smack

is she ugly on the inside

is she ugly from the back...

The woman was a disaster packaged in something almost pretty but not quite. Like a beauty queen moments after winning the crown fair and square, tear stained makeup and fleeting promises of eternal beauty. She flung herself around the stage, dress ripped to shreds as the hands of the audience tried to tear away pieces of her flesh.

Her fingers were bruised and bloody as she wailed away on the guitar. Nails cracked and worn with the weight of her vengeance. With each press of her lips against the microphone the color oozed outside the lines of her mouth until she looked like a living dead girl and Billy.

He had never seen someone so beautiful.

The first time he put on a dress for real it had been an homage to his silver screen queen.

Black shift dress. Baby doll sleeves. Torn stockings and barrettes in his hair.

Kinderwhore they called it.

Billy stood awkwardly in front of the mirror in the bathroom and tried to make sense of the princess seam that came to an unsteady rest just above the line of his ribs. The clinging fabric felt nothing like the one his mother had been buried in it felt.

Dirty.

Sinful. Instantly cloaked in assumptions; he does heroin. He's a a bum and a loser in search of something the music can't give him so he searches for it in the sting of a needle. Billy bit down on his lips until they bled.

The color ran thick like maple syrup over the skin of his face, bringing out the blue in his eyes as it ran down his chin. As it caught in the stubble-rough landing of his jawline.

Billy looked like a mess.

Instantly, he was addicted. The first time Billy saw her he knew; that was his own image reflected back at him from the fifteen inch screen.

He began looking for inspiration wherever he could find it.

Debbie Harry, Freddie Mercury, Joan Jett, David Bowie. Women and men. Gods. His heroes. Feminine and masculine and dirty.

Courtney Love was always his favorite.

Filthy. Absolutely gut wrenching. Every time he saw her perform it was like his spleen was being ripped out and Billy couldn't escape the way he saw so much of himself reflected in her. All his rage and discomfort, his fury amplified by a million.

So he tried to emulate it.

Billy shopped around local thrift stores to find leopard print jackets and peasant tops. Dresses that hung wide or snuggled against the swell of his hips, kitten heels that brought much needed length to his hamburger legs and when he brought them home, always through the backdoor and stuffed carefully into a trash bag, Neil would raise an eyebrow.

Playing dress up?

Billy would grimace. Max is lookin' to be a Debbie Harry for Halloween. 'M helpin' her find the prefect dress.

And Neil drank like the answers sawm in a bottle of gin, so.

He would raise a fist at that. Never fully convinced but satiated, content with Billy playing the perfect older brother. His nose would bleed on the nights when Neil couldn't shake the impression that his son was a faggot but that was as far as it went.

Max never asked questions and Billy never told her the truth; that he felt more like himself when Courtney Love stared back at him in the mirror.

She sat with him sometimes.

Watched him apply his mother's lipstick, carefully at first and then all at once when the music carried him down.

Black lung coat and your little crown That's the crown that you get for falling down Hey baby, let me look in your eyes I see you standing in a weird red light...

"Why do you listen to this shit?" Max wrinkled her nose. Like a freckled bunny rabbit, it was kind of ridiculous. "She screams so fuckin' loud, you can't even understand what she's--"

"Mascara."

"Why? I know girls who would kill for your eyelashes."

Billy snapped his fingers. Max handed over the little black tube with a trademark eye roll, resting her chin in her hands as Billy repeated the process of careful application and then careless destruction of his hard work.

"Look prettier when you keep it nice," She snapped.

And Billy just chuckled. "I don't wanna look nice."

Max stared at him, popping a jaw breaker into her mouth. "Why not? Isn't that the whole point of makeup, to look pretty?"

Billy scrubbed at his eyes, warmth flooding his stomach again at the way the blue stood out against the black ring around his eyes. Like carefully crafted bruises, nothing like the ones Neil gave him. He shrugged his shoulders.

"That's so fuckin' predictable." He sat on the bed, pushing the hem of his skirt to roll the nylon against his legs.

"Using makeup and clothes to look worse, fuckin' idiotic." Max grumbled, but she watched with glowing eyes as Billy began scraping his nails down the length, creating runs in the delicate fabric.

"You gonna sit there yapping or are you gonna help?" He bitched.

Max slid to her knees in front of him, getting to work tearing holes into the stockings the way she knew Billy liked.

It was therapeutic, almost, having the help.

"I like when you do Blondie." She said after a while. "Fuck ton less work and Courtney makes you aggressive. She's got the energy of a horny dude, it's fucked up."

Billy smirked.

It was always more fun to play pretend with Max and her bitchy voice tethering him to the ground. He feared that, without it, he'd get lost in the feeling of freedom. Fly too close to the sun or something, catch on fire when he inevitably missed the tell-tale creek of the floorboards that meant Neil was listening in.

Max annoyed the hell out of him, but.

She kept him safe. Why, he didn't know.

Maybe she really was interested in the whole thing, electing to believe that every boy wanted to be a girl because the alternative meant her brother was sick in a way that couldn't be cured.

Billy stood, slipping on the kitten heels while Max held his hand.

He admired his handiwork.

"Gotta hand it you," Max whistled, low like a wolf. "Gets shittier every time we do it."

"Shut up, brat." But Billy was grinning.

For Max, that was a compliment.

Don't blush when I rip you open Hey baby, let me look in your eyes As you go off into your weird red light...

He ran his hands down the soft fabric, relishing the way the hem tickled the sensitive skin of his thighs.

He was pretty.

Not like his mother, not like Courtney Love, but.

Uniquely himself.

Max cocked her head to the side. "Don't you get tired of getting all dressed up with nowhere to go?"

Billy bristled. "Oh yeah? And where could I go in San Fran that wouldn't skin me on the spot for dressing like a bitch?"

"Castro." The gay area.

Billy felt his cheeks darken. He thought about it for a second; the lights, the thralls of people just letting the light in. Being themselves.

He shook his head, turning back to the mirror with a glare. "Yeah, okay. I'll get right on that."

"Cool, I'll just fetch my coat." Max turned to leave, chucking when Billy trapped her with an iron grip. "Relax, spaz. Neil would kill us both if he saw you looking like that."

And.

She was right. Billy had thought about it countless times before, what would happen if he threw a jacket over his baby doll dress and slipped out the back door one night. How the cool air would feel on the bare skin of his thighs, but. That's all it ever was. Just speculation.

Only dreams.

Knowing his luck he'd catch Neil in the hallway after his midnight piss and that'd be it. They'd never get the blood out of the wallpaper.

"Looks like we're stuck playing pretend." Billy patted absently at his spring of messy curls, refusing to let the sadness seep through but Max noticed immediately. Perceptive little shit.

She held up a finger, disappearing through the crack in the door. A second later she was back with her polaroid camera.

"Smile."

"No fuckin' way," Billy snarled. He could already imagine it; Neil digging through his sock drawer to find the pot he was always accusing Billy of smoking, only to stumble across something else.

Something worse.

Billy's ribs began to ache with the phantom memory of those fists planting like flower bulbs in fresh soil. He bruised easily, like an overripe peach.

Not everyone knew that about him, but. He did.

Max frowned. "Come on, we could send them to Courtney's P.O. box, I'm sure she'd be flattered."

Billy shook his head, tears swamping his vision as Max lifted the camera. The flash was blinding. Billy lunged for it, swearing as Max slipped past his grip. She took another picture.

And another.

And then another, until polaroid's littered the floor like fallen leaves on the dirty ground. Billy had tears rolling down his cheeks, ruining his makeup by the time she finally stopped. He held out his hand. "Max, just. Give that fuckin' thing to me. Now, we gotta burn this shit, alright? We gotta--"

But she wasn't listening, she was staring at the first image she had taken, when Billy was caught off guard. Max was absorbed in it, eyes glittering with something Billy had never seen before.

He snatched the picture from her hands and lifted it up to his face, brow wrinkled in disgust until--

This wasn't anything like staring in the mirror.

It felt more immediate, more real as Billy examined the image of a flawless stranger. Of a woman.

Of Courtney Love.

"Pretty," Max said.

And.

Yeah. He was.

They started taking pictures every time Billy got dressed up.

Max would help him get ready and then they'd do little photoshoots in his bedroom. He was a reluctant subject at first, awkward in his own skin until she suggested they smoke a joint before each session.

"To loosen you up a little, dick wad."

"What kinda brother would I be if I let my kid sister smoke pot?" Billy shook his head. "Absolutely not, Max."

She shrugged. "Then you do it."

So, he did.

And it helped. They switched up the music, finding it easiest to shoot to The Smashing Pumpkins, played with lighting and mood until she was satisfied with the "vibe," made immortal on film.

The images Max captured were like moments in time, archived in the shoebox under his bed. Billy looked like a rock star in every one--Debbie Harry on some days, Courtney on others; hair messy, cigarette trapped between his fingers, stockings ripped to shreds.

Max admitted that Courtney was her favorite, after a while, so that's the one that stuck.

And Billy loved every picture she took. Loved her artistic eye, obvious in the way she moved his lamp around the room to capture his features just so. Every session was serious like she was the photographer at Rolling Stone and he was her subject for the week.

It was addictive.

They had been taking pictures every night for a month when Neil caught them in the act.

The first punch felt like a bomb had gone off in his head, and Billy hit the floor without so much as a fight.

He remembers blood on the carpet.

Blood in his hair. On the walls. A splitting pain in his ribs and between his legs.

Keep digging your own grave, William.

Max patched him up after Neil's car tore out of the driveway.

"I'm sorry Billy." He hadn't realised she was crying. He ran his fingers over her cheek. "It's all my fault, I didn't mean--"

"I felt pretty." He said.

They stopped taking pictures after that.

Moving to Hawkins, Indiana was like stepping off the Earth and floating through space.

Billy felt weightless.

Every mistake, every hidden secret cloaked in baby doll dresses and leopard print coats had been left in San Francisco where they belonged. Stuffed in the back of his closet with the polaroid's they were able to tape back together.

He tried to forget the way it made him feel.

"You're the prettiest boy I've ever seen."

It wasn't meant to be a compliment. Billy could tell that from the way Steve's lips curled into a snarl.

He pushed his way into Billy's space, clearly drunk and high off something that made his pupils swallow the milky brown of his eyes.

Steve looked like he was swimming.

There were track marks in his arm. "You're like a vision," He reached out to touch, to feel, flinching back when Billy slapped his hand away.

"I don't know what the fuck you think you're doing, Harrington--"

"I think I'm in love with you."

And Billy had thought the same thing, the first time they ran into each other at the gay bar in Indianapolis, but. People talked.

Hawkins talked, like the city itself was an entity with a pulse and conscience that had been shot to shit in the eighties. Billy did his best to glare. "You don't love me, pretty boy."

"No, I." Steve grinned. He was high as a fucking kite. "I do. You're my guardian angel." He laughed hysterically, in a way that made Billy's skin crawl.

"What, your dealer tell you that?" He huffed.

And it was mean.

So fucking mean. If Steve was a junkie his skin wouldn't be so clear, so smooth. Like black cherries in milk, goddammit. Billy wanted to lap at the skin on his neck, taste the salt of his skin.

He wondered distantly if he'd be able to get high from it.

Probably. Steve smiled anyway. "Let me take you home."

"Such a fuckin' line," Billy said.

But he was already tugging pretty boy through the crowd.

Billy kept his dresses in the back of his closet where he kept his mother's suicide letters.

She had written more than one, consumed by her sadness in a way Billy had never understood until he had taken the fairy light inside him and smothered it.

Every once in a while, when Neil was out of the house and Max was at school or something, He'd take one out just to feel the weightlessness of the fabric settle against his skin.

Like little paper angels.

Like the whisper of something like hope but not quite, just out of reach.

He never did the full look anymore. Never put his heart and soul into it the way he had before, when Max was there to keep him from floating away, but.

Gradually he felt himself catch fire.

They had been together for three months when Steve peeled back the layers.

Neil was away on business, so Steve was sleeping over. Needed a shirt or sweats or to sleep in, catching sight of something bright red and shiny as he shifted the leather jackets at Greatful Dead t-shirts to the side to expose a stash of beautiful gowns that shone like an open sore against the soft light in Billy's bedroom.

Billy came through the open door, words dying on his lips as the bong in his hand shattered on the floor.

Steve held the dress up against the light, tongue poking out of his mouth in consideration.

"Max wants to be Debbie Harry for Halloween," Billy fished for his old excuse, eyes welling up with tears when Steve's jaw set in a firm line. "I'm helping her find the perfect dress, I--"

"Bill's--"

"That's not mine, Steve, I swear." Billy dropped to the floor.

Got on his fucking knees, hands level with his face in a silent prayer as he tripped over himself to rebuild the walls that had kept him safe. He was talking, spewing bullshit as Steve stood motionless against the closet door. Billy flung his arms around Steve's legs. Buried his face in his thighs, because.

He couldn't go through it again.

Wouldn't survive it.

"I never even seen that before, Stevie, please."

"Get up." Pretty boy commanded.

And.

Billy blinked teary, soulful eyes at him. "Huh?"

Steve shook his head. "I said stand up, baby. Get off the fucking floor."

Billy did. Steve watched him for a moment, expression unreadable. Billy prepared himself for the gut punch, the harsh word, the look of disgust in those eyes that had never shown anything but reverence for Billy, but it never came. In a single, syrupy slow motion Steve held the dress to Billy's throat, scanning him up and down in a way that left Bill naked and squirming.

He couldn't breathe. Couldn't think, as Steve smiled softly.

"Wanna see you." He said.

And. "What?"

"Can you put it on for me?" Steve asked. "Bet you look gorgeous. Like an angel, or a model or something--"

Billy let out a thick, wet sound. "I look like a beast, I'm--"

"No." Billy jumped when Steve nuzzled against his neck, the dress trapped like a gossamer curtain between them. "Bet you look like a deity. A goddess of rock n' roll. Like Courtney Love, right?"

And Billy had done a lot of things in his life. He was a builder of fortresses, a hider, an adventurer when the mood struck him. Billy protected himself and Max and his mother for as long as he could remember, carrying things that were too heavy for those with weaker shoulders, but.

He had never shown himself to someone he loved. No sugar, no cream, just.

Completely himself.

Billy took the dress and opened the safe in the corner. Pulled out his mother's makeup and painted himself into a masterpiece as Steve watched, motionless on the bed.

When he was done Billy was afraid to look in the mirror.

Terrified of what he'd see but Steve took him in his arms, peppering gentle kisses all along his face until Billy had built up enough courage.

"Ready? Steve whispered.

Billy let himself be turned around. Situated under the heavy sling of Steve's arm, until--

"Pretty."

Steve nodded. "Beautiful."

#harringrove #idk if this is how you do it but thats showbiz baybee #thanks for making it to the bottom lol

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grigori77 · 5 years ago

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2019 In TV - My Top 10 Shows

This past year may have sucked balls in a lot of ways, but we certainly never got short-changed when it came to our TV. There was an absolute WEALTH of truly cracking TV around, both on regular networks and on the various on-demand platforms, and so here is my pick of the best, my absolute favourites of 2019.

10. WATCHMEN

Lost co-creator Damon Lindelof brings us a blinding sequel to comic book legend Alan Moore’s legendary graphic novel with a delightfully trippy, ruthlessly efficient rug-puller that seems pretty tailor-made for HBO. Old faces return in interesting ways, while there are some cracking new “masks” on offer, particularly Regina King’s Sister Night and the always-brilliant Tim Blake Nelson as morally complex antihero Looking Glass (in some ways very much the show’s own answer to Rorschach). It never goes where you expect it to go, and refuses to give easy answers to the questions it raises, effortlessly paving the way for more next year ...

9. THE BOYS

Amazon offers up its own edgy, thoroughly adult superhero property with this darkly funny antiheroic gem based on the cult Garth Ennis comic, expertly adapted by Supernatural creator Eric Kripke. Karl Urban dominates as Billy Butcher, the foul-mouthed, morally bankrupt “leader” of a makeshift crew of mercenaries, hitmen and psycho killers devoted to “taking care of” superheroes when they inevitably go bad. Season 1 ultimately serves as an origin story, showing how the team come together, laying quality groundwork for the incoming sophomore tour that promises to open the already fascinating world out significantly.

8. PREACHER (SEASON 4)

More Garth Ennis, namely this blinder of a closing season for AMC’s consistently impressive adaptation of his best known series for Vertigo comics. Surprisingly epic, deliciously subversive and constantly, darkly hilarious, this thoroughly non-PC series from showrunners Sam Catlin, Evan Goldberg and Seth Rogen (yes! I Know!) certainly went out on a high note, providing its loyal followers with perfectly-pitched bow-outs and sometimes heartbreaking goodbyes for all its players, especially its dynamite leads, Dominic Cooper, Ruth Negga and, in particular, Joe Gilgun as unapologetic bad boy vampire Cassidy. A worthy end to one of my all-time favourite TV shows.

7. THE WITCHER

While it’s clearly taken its look from the wildly successful video games, Netflix’s second most ambitious long-form offering of the year takes its lead from the fantasy book series by Polish author Andrzej Sapkowski that started it all. With its somewhat episodic set-up and decidedly twisted narrative timelines, it take a few chapters to get the hang of it, but there’s plenty to draw you in, from the exotic world-building to the frenetic action and compelling collection of richly crafted characters. Henry Cavill is the titular hero, lovably grouchy mutant monster-hunter Geralt of Rivia, but the real scene-stealer is co-star Anya Chalotra as roguishly self-serving mage Yennefer of Vengenberg.

6. CARNIVAL ROW

One of the year’s two big sleeper hit TV surprises for me was this inventively offbeat allegorical Amazon fantasy series from The 4400 creator René Echevarria and screenwriter Travis Beacham. Orlando Bloom and Cara Delevigne are the star-crossed lovers at the heart of this intriguingly dark and dirty murder mystery thriller set in Victorian London-esque city-state the Burgue, in which humans struggle to co-exist alongside a struggling disenfranchised underclass of fae (fairies, fawns, centaurs and the like). The racial turmoil undertones are writ large throughout, but this is far more well-written and lavishly appointed than you might expect on first glance, and almost ridiculously addictive viewing.

5. LOVE, DEATH + ROBOTS

My other big TV surprise was this wonderfully bizarre sci-fi anthology series of animated shorts from Netflix, mostly adapted from an eclectic selection of short stories from a wide range of top-notch literary talent including Peter F. Hamilton, John Scalzi, Marko Kloos and Alastair Reynolds (a particular favourite of mine). As you’d expect from the brainchild of Deadpool director Tim Miller and producer David Fincher, this is edgy, leftfield stuff, frequently ultra-violent and decidedly adult, and the wildly varied nature of the material on offer makes for a decidedly uneven tone, but there are some absolute gems on offer here, my favourite being Suits, an enjoyably simple tale of salt-of-the-earth farmers on an alien world utilising clunky mech suits to protect their settlement from rampaging giant xeno-bugs.

4. THE DARK CRYSTAL: AGE OF RESISTANCE

The show with the biggest cinematic wow factor in 2019 had to be this long-awaited prequel series to Jim Henson’s classic fantasy movie masterpiece, created for Netflix by, of all people, Louis Leterrier (yes, the director of The Transporter, Now You See Me and Clash of the Titans, if you can believe it). The technology may have evolved in leaps and bounds, but there’s a wonderfully old school vibe in the delightfully physical puppet effects used to bring the fantastical world of Thra and its denizens to life, so that it truly does feel like it’s based in the same world as the film. This was EASILY the most visually arresting show of 2019, packed with exquisite character, creature and set design that perfectly complements the awesome work done by Henson and Brian Froud on the original, while the writers have created a darkly rich narrative tapestry that makes Thra seem a more dangerous place than ever.

3. THE UMBRELLA ACADEMY

I was a HUGE fan of My Chemical Romance frontman Gerard Way’s magnificently oddball alternative superhero comic, so when I learned that Netflix were adapting it I was a little wary because I knew how spectacularly hard it would be for ANY showrunners to get right. Thankfully Steve Blackman (Fargo season 2) and Jeremy Slater (The Exorcist TV series) were the right choice, because this perfectly captured the outsider nature of the characters and their endearingly dysfunctional family dynamic. Ellen Page, Tom Hopper (Black Sails, Merlin), David Castañeda and Emmy Raver-Lampman are all excellent as the more “functional” Hargreeves siblings, but the show is roundly stolen by Misfits star Robert Sheehan and Nicky, Ricky, Dicky & Dawn’s Aidan Gallagher as nihilistic clairvoyant Klaus and the old-man-in-a-child’s-body sociopath known only as Number Five. Consistently surprising and brilliantly bonkers, this was definitely the year’s most wonderfully WEIRD show.

2. STRANGER THINGS (SEASON 3)

Writer-director duo the Duffer Brothers’ ultra-nostalgic 80s-set coming-of-age sci-fi horror series remains the undisputed jewel in Netflix’s long-form crown with this consistently top-drawer third season expertly maintaining the blockbuster-level standards we’ve come to expect. This year the cross-dimensional shenanigans have largely been jettisoned, replaced by a gleefully nasty through-line of icky body horror that would make major influences like David Cronenberg and Stuart Gordon proud, as perennial teenage bad boy Billy Hargrove (the fantastically menacing Dacre Montgomery) becomes the leader of an army of psychic slaves under the control of the Upside Down’s monstrous Mind Flayer. The kids are all brilliant as always, Winona Ryder and David Harbour really get to build on their strong-yet-spiky chemistry, and the show is almost effortlessly stolen by Joe Keery as one-time golden boy Steve Harrington and series-newcomer Maya Hawke as his nerdy new foil Robin Buckley, who were very nearly the cutest couple on TV in 2019. Another gold standard season for a true gold standard show.

1. GOOD OMENS

Sadly, legendary author Terry Pratchett died before he could see the adaptation of one of his most beloved novels (and one of my all-time literary favourites too) see the light of day, but at least his co-author Neil Gaiman was around to bring it to fruition with the aid of seasoned TV director David Mckinnon (Jekyll, Doctor Who, Sherlock), and the end result sure did him proud, perfectly capturing the deeply satirical voice and winningly anarchic, gleefully offbeat and gently subversive humour of the original novel. David Tennant and Michael Sheen could both have been born to play Crowley and Aziraphale, the angel and demon nominally charged with watching over the young Antichrist in preparation for his role in the End Times, even though they would both much rather the world just went on quite happily the way it is, thanks very much. This is about as perfect an adaptation as you can get, the six hour-long episodes giving the surprisingly complex story time to breathe and grow organically, and the result is the most fun I spent in front of my TV this year.

#best TV 2019 #watchmen #the boys #preacher #the witcher #carnival row #love death + robots #love death & robots #the dark crystal age of resistance #The Umbrella Academy #stranger things 3 #good omens

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nekojitachan · 5 years ago

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The Waiting Game

*******

Okay, so, still working on GiY ch16 (over half done) and then I’m trying to figure out if I’ll do the A/B/O fic or try more Not in the Stars (or maybe even post bits of the Cat!Neil on here), but for some reason I wanted to get this started just so I can throw it in the WIP pile and have a feel for how it’ll go.

Warnings - suicidal thoughts and suicide attempt in the first part (not very descriptive), and vague mention of Andrew’s past.

*******

Andrew counted down the minutes until Johnny would come to unstrap him from his bed, alone in his room at Easthaven Hospital and high on the latest drug cocktail Proust had forced on him. Hmm, something a little different than last time, something that made his thoughts skitter about and concentration fracture and rage burst into tiny bubbles of laughter which floating through his veins until he wanted to claw them out but his hands were strapped down.

Bah.

At least, for the next two hours and twenty-seven minutes. Then he’d put the piece of metal he’d oh-so carefully hoarded and sharpened the last few weeks to good use and slice open those veins and let those annoying bubbles float free and no more laughter, no more drugs, no more anything.

He was done with it, was done with it all. Done putting up with Tilda, with her abuse and neglect (he didn’t know which was worse), with being foisted off to foster homes and the men who would hurt him whenever she fucked up her life more than usual, only to be dumped back on her when she lied well enough to convince Child Services that she had her act together (what a load of bullshit). Done dealing with his homophobic, ‘Christian’ uncle who didn’t believe him about Drake and the others, about Aaron, who locked him up for being a ‘fag’ and a liar’. Done dealing with Proust, who was more messed up than most of the patients in Easthaven. Done with everyone telling him that Aaron didn’t exist.

He was done with everything.

Just a little longer.

He’d taken to humming ‘itsy bitsy spider’ for some reason when there was a strange tension in the air, a feeling similar to right before a powerful thunderstorm was unleashed, and then his ears popped in a painful manner as two figures appeared out of nowhere – literally, one moment they weren’t there and then the next they were. Still strapped to the bed, Andrew tensed at their presence, even when they stepped out of the shadows to reveal themselves to be two young men about the same age as himself dressed in dark jeans and sweaters, one tall and one short, one with black hair and one a redhead, both with pale eyes and handsome features.

The tall one frowned as he turned to his shorter companion and let out a spat of what sounded to be French but not quite; there was something odd about the language, something not quite right. The shorter companion kept his gaze on Andrew, a slight smile on his sharp-featured face, and replied calmly in the same language.

When tall, dark and bitchy started up again, Andrew clicked his tongue. “You’re rather boring for a hallucination,” he called out. “And rude. At least speak English.”

That made tall, dark and bitchy shut up in a hurry and glare at Andrew, while short, redhead and gorgeous merely smiled and nodded once. “Our apologies,” he said in English, his voice a pleasant tenor with a British accent. “My partner’s confused at the moment, as this is a bit of a detour for us.”

“Detour from what?” Andrew asked, curious despite himself (were those eyes blue? A pale blue?), then scoffed when the redhead merely continued to smile while his ‘partner’ glared. “Hmm, these drugs are even more potent than I thought.” What the hell had Proust given him this time?

Oh well, not that it mattered much anymore.

The redhead spoke in the odd language again, clearly to his partner even though he continued to regard Andrew, and after a brief argument where Andrew picked up the name ‘Kevin’ be mentioned, tall, dark and bitchy vanished into thin air.

“Hmm, nice trick. Can you pull a rabbit from a hat, next? How about a pack of cigarettes?” Andrew wouldn’t mind one last smoke before he kicked off the mortal coil, so to speak.

The redhead continued to regard him silently for several seconds (his eyes were pale blue, like the one vase in Cass’s house, or the knitted sweater Miss Nelson had given Andrew when he was eight years old). “You’re going to try to kill yourself tonight, in less than two hours,” the stranger said in that quiet, accented voice.

An indecipherable emotion jolted through Andrew and wiped the manic grin from his face. “How the fuck do you know that?” Was he going to take the makeshift knife away? Rat him out to Proust? “I’ll gut you if you-“

“Don’t do it tonight, it’s not the right time,” the redhead continued, cutting through Andrew’s threats. “Wait two more nights,” he insisted as he stood there in the weak beam of moonlight that flowed through the small, mesh-reinforced window of Andrew’s room. “Two more nights will be better.”

The small bit of rage that Andrew had managed to work up was swallowed by the meds and curiosity. “Why?” he couldn’t help but ask. “Why then?” Why wasn’t the young man telling him not to commit suicide?

Perhaps this was some sort of drug-induced hallucination after all.

The redhead flashed him a grin as he began to poke around Andrew’s room, not that there was much to see considering the strict rules at Easthaven. “Because this isn’t your proper time. Wait two more nights, and that time will begin.” He opened a drawer, stared into it then closed it. “You’ll get the answers you need then, too.” He turned around and leaned against the small dresser as he stared at Andrew. “You’ll get nothing if you end things tonight.”

“That’s it?” Andrew clicked his tongue while he tugged on his wrist restraints once more. “You’re a pretty pathetic hallucination if that’s all you can come up with to make me postpone things two more days when I’m all set.”

“Hmm, true.” The stranger bowed his rather pretty head (at least Andrew’s subconscious was giving him something nice to look at before his end) in acknowledgement before he held up his right hand with two fingers extended. “Something for each day, is that acceptable?” When Andrew nodded, he smiled, which made Andrew tell his hormones to go fuck off, it was just his imagination throwing him a visual bone before he died. “I’ll do something to make your last days here a bit less difficult, and I’ll owe you a favor, a small one.” Judging from the flat look to his eyes, Andrew had better accept those terms.

“Oh, I suppose that’ll do,” Andrew sang out. “Though you’re not much fun for a figment of my imagination. The magic tricks would liven things up a bit.”

The redhead smiled, his expression lopsided, as he stepped away from the dresser. “I’m not known for my sense of humor. Remember, two more days, and when the time comes, you can ask a favor from Abram. A small one.”

“Who the hell calls their kid ‘Abram’?” Andrew mused aloud, but before he asked the entire question, ‘Abram’ was gone.

That was Andrew’s life – a gorgeous, mysterious redhead appears in it, only to turn out to be a figment of his imagination and right before he offed himself. Still, hallucination or not, he’d made a promise so he intended to keep it, and didn’t go for his improvised blade when Johnny finally showed up to undo the restraints.

When he found out in the morning that Proust was out sick with the flu? He didn’t stop laughing for over a half an hour, which the staff put down to his new medication. There was some talk about altering the dosage, but in the end, they strapped him back down for a few hours and left him alone.

He was fine with that.

(Well, not with being restrained, but with the ‘left alone’ part.)

The two days went by quickly, and part of him hoped that Abram would show up again, especially when he retrieved the blade from where he’d stashed it behind the dresser. After several minutes with no odd tension in the air, Andrew shrugged then rolled up the sleeves of his shirt to reveal his scarred forearms, and only hesitated a moment before he put the makeshift knife to use.

It hurt, but not any more than what he’d already endured in the past. He welcomed the darkness when it finally dragged him under.

Andrew had planned things so he shouldn’t be found for several hours, so he was understandably confused when he woke up on a comfortable bed in a room unlike any he’d seen so far at Easthaven, dressed in what appeared to be orange scrubs yet were soft and more form-fitting, without any pain in his arms. When he tried to move, he found his body paralyzed.

“Oh, you’re awake!”

It seemed that he wasn’t entirely paralyzed, as he could turn his head to see a woman who appeared to be in her thirties with light blonde hair pulled into a bun approach his bed, a friendly smile on her face; she was dressed in orange ‘scrubs’ as well and a white lab coat.

“Where am I, and why can’t I move?” Andrew asked as he tried to sit up again.

“I’m sorry but it’s standard protocol,” the woman explained as she touched some sort of computer panel near Andrew’s bed. “All new patients are, uhm, similarly restrained until they’re informed about what’s going on. The others will be here in a moment.” She gave Andrew a nervous smile. “I’m Abby, Abby Winfield, and you’re all right. You’re safe here.”

She did something to raise the upper part of the bed he lay on, so he could see that he was in a room full of monitors and touch screen panels, was in something that looked right out of a science fiction movie. Just as he opened his mouth to tell her to let him go or else, three people entered the room through a sliding door – an older man with dark skin and grey-shot black hair, a younger man with similar features but a lighter skin tone, and a middle-aged woman with grey-shot brown, curly hair. The two older adults wore a mix of orange, white and black, while the younger man wore all black and had something on his left cheek.

“He’s up at last?” the old man called out as he approached Andrew; his orange shirt was sleeveless, which left the tribal flame tattoos on his forearms exposed. “It’s about time.”

“Let me go before I break everything in here, including the four of you,” Andrew gritted out; he realized as the anger at being helpless in front of strangers (let alone still alive) built inside of him that the damn drugs were no longer in his system.

He began to suspect that he might not be in Easthaven anymore, and that Abram wasn’t a hallucination.

The young guy (was that a ‘2’ on his cheek?) shook his head. “There’s protocols we have to follow and-“

“Andrew – may I call you Andrew?” the woman with the brown hair asked as she held up her hands in a placating manner; she gazed steadily at Andrew in a way that made him focus on her and eventually nod. “Thank you. It is practice to keep all new recruits restrained at first, but I can tell that you don’t like it. If you promise to behave while we explain things to you, I’ll undo them.”

“Betsy, I don’t think that’s-“

The woman – Betsy, apparently - waved aside the others’ concern and continued to gaze at Andrew until he nodded in agreement. Once he did, she looked at Abby until the woman (a doctor?) did something with one of the panels, and suddenly Andrew could move again. He slowly tested out his arms and legs then sat up some more while he pulled back the left sleeve of his shirt.

The wounds he’d inflicted on his inner forearm were gone.

Abby noticed what he’d done as she slowly approached the bed with a glass of what appeared to be water. “The nanites healed your injuries as well as removed the drugs from your system. Here, you’re probably thirsty.” When he merely stared at her, she set it on the small table near the bed. “It’s just water, I promise.”

“You’ve met Abby, and I’m Betsy Dobson,” Betsy explained as she went to stand at the foot of Andrew’s bed. “This is David Wymack and Kevin Day.” She motioned to the old man first and then the young hothead; Andrew’s eyes narrowed at the mention of ‘Kevin’. “Kevin was the one who went back to your time and brought you here after you attempted suicide.”

“My time,” Andrew murmured while he thought about how Abram and his partner had appeared out of thin air, how Abram had mentioned it not being Andrew’s ‘proper time’.

“Look, kid, time travel is real,” Wymack said with what was probably meant to be a kind expression. “You’re not in the twenty-first century anymore, but the thirty-seventh. Long story short, shit started to go down by the end of the twenty-first centry and the world got fucked up. While some things are better now, some things aren’t and the population is one of them. After some geniuses figured out a stable way to travel through time,” Andrew noticed how Kevin twitched right then, “others came up with the idea of going back for things that wouldn’t be missed. Sometimes that’s items, and sometimes that’s people.” He looked Andrew up and down. “You’re one of those people.”

Andrew realized that he didn’t crave a cigarette any longer and wondered if those ‘nanites’ had fixed that for him, too.

“Aah, did we break him?” Wymack asked Betsy after a minute’s silence.

“No, from the research I’ve done on him, Andrew’s the taciturn type, especially in a situation like this. I’d say that he’s taking everything in so he can make an informed decision,” Betsy said as she continued to regard Andrew.

He gave her a two-fingered salute in return and picked up the glass of ‘water’, from which he took a careful sip; when nothing adverse happened, he cleared his throat then spoke. “So who are you?” he asked Wymack, since the old man seemed to be in charge.

The question made the old man stand up straighter and fold his tattooed arms over his chest. “David Wymack, leader of the Foxes, which means nothing to you, I know. What I do with Abby’s and Betsy’s help is find kids like you who deserve a second chance and bring ‘em here, then put them to work on that whole ‘going back in time for items that won’t be missed’ thing.”

“And if I don’t want to join your gang?” Andrew asked as he held on to the glass; it didn’t feel normal, so probably some sort of polymer, but it was still a potential weapon if thrown.

“Then once Abby gives the all clear, we help set you up on your own,” Wymack told him without any obvious tells that he was lying. “But you came as a recommendation, so….”

Before Andrew could speak, Kevin jumped in, a tablet in his hand which he appeared to read from. “Andrew Joseph Minyard, born 1984 in Oakland, California to Tilda Mary Minyard, nee Hemmick, no name listed under ‘father’. Indication of above intelligence IQ but never formally tested, five stints in foster homes while your mother faced charges of drug possession or child abandonment. When you were thirteen years old, the two of you moved to Columbia, South Carolina to live with your maternal uncle, where you sent to multiple counselors for ‘anger management issues’ until being admitted to Easthaven for destructive and delusional behavior shortly before your eighteenth birthday.” He looked at Andrew as he set the device on a table. “I came for you when you attempted suicide; you were close to death so it was easy to leave a body double we’d prepped for the event, especially since we know they won’t be thorough in an investigation into your death considering the circumstances and the institution in question.”

There had been looks of pity sent Andrew’s way from Abby and Wymack at the brief summary of his lousy life, which he ignored. “Why me?” That was what he wanted to know; he could ignore the improbability of the whole ‘time travel’ thing for the moment, he wanted to know why him.

Why bother to waste so much time (ha) and energy on a broken piece of flesh like him?

Why had Abram showed up the other night for him?

“Because someone like you won’t be missed,” Wymack said as he rested his knuckles on a table and leaned forward. “Your family will be eager to put your death behind them and move on, and Easthaven too – just another statistic they’ll want to bury.”

Harsh, but true; only Nicky would miss him, Andrew knew. And no one would listen to Nicky.

“It’s been worked down to a science, you could say,” Kevin explained as he rubbed the back of his left hand, which Andrew just realized was covered with a fine mesh of gold wire melded into his light brown skin. “The best types of people to retrieve from the past – those whose families won’t look into their deaths or disappearances, or those who die in accidents resulting in unrecoverable bodies or bodies easy to replace with copies.”

“And if we’re to be perfectly honest, bringing forth people with some sort of mental or physical trauma is thought to be ideal, as we’re taking them from an undesirable place and giving them a new beginning,” Betsy added. “I’m not fully onboard with that, but it’s also in part why you were selected.”

Andrew gave her another salute for that then thought about his options; no one said he could go back to his own time, which really, not a good idea (Proust, Luther, Easthaven). The only ‘good’ thing back there was Nicky, who was just as fucked up as him thanks to Luther.

Here? Where the mysterious Abram said was ‘his time’? He was free of the drugs, of Easthaven (of Proust), had people who appeared willing to be honest with him and to offer him a job (of stealing things from the sound of it, not that he cared). A new beginning.

He also was owed one favor (a small one) from the mysterious Abram, who so far had kept his word.

Andrew clicked his tongue as he folded his legs. “There better be decent benefits with this gig, and I refuse to wear orange.”

Abby and Betsy smiled while Kevin appeared offended and Wymack sighed. “Somehow I knew you’re going to be a difficult one.” He nodded once to Abby then straightened up. “Let me know when the midget’s cleared so I can have Kevin show him around.” He sighed again when Andrew gave him the middle finger.

Andrew fell back against the pillows while Abby chided Wymack about being rude and Betsy offered to provide him with information about his new ‘world’, and thought about how no one had mentioned why he’d been brought to the Foxes’ attention. No one had mentioned Abram and his bitchy partner.

*******

I guess I get to it when I get to it.

One thing - years ago I read this short story in some sci fi collection where there was a character who’d been brought from the past to the future and whose job was to go into the past to steal things before they were destroyed. So that’s the inspiration for this story. I wish I still had that book (it’s the only story in it that really stayed with me), but sadly, with moving about it was handed off to a better home.

There’s reasons for Neil as Abram and Jean with him (just partners!), and obviously end goal as Andreil. I’m having fun with the small twists here.

#nekojitachanfics #mumbling into the void #aftg #aftg au #andrew minyard #neil josten #kevin day #jean moreau #abby winfield #betsy dobson #david wymack #neil as abram #tw: suidice

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strangerontheotherside84 · 5 years ago

Text

Wild Child || Part 3

Warnings: language, violence, abuse (aka Neil being Neil), homophobic slurs

———————————————————————————-

„Hey Max.“, you greeted the red headed girl as soon as the front door swung open. „Hi y/n. Billy isn’t home. That’s what you’re here for, right?“ „Well only partly.“ you began with a smirk while entering the small house on Cherry Road, it was even smaller than it looked like from the outside but also kind of cozy, „I brought him the stuff my uncle ordered for the Camaro and I thought you’d might like these.“

„New wheels and bearings? For me?“, the small redhead couldn’t belive her eyes. „Yeah I saw that run down board of yours and figured you’d might wanna give it a little upgrade. And since you’re not gonna find this sorta stuff in Hawkins, I got it from California.“

„Wow thanks y/n! That’s so cool! I need to try them out right now!“

„You’re welcome kid.“

„But… I don’t get it. How did you order them from Cali together with Billy’s stuff? They don’t sell car parts at a Skateshop.“ „Well the owner of the garage we ordered from is an old friend of my uncle and he was kind enough to walk across the street and do me a little favour.“, you winked at her with a smile. Even though Billy didn’t like her she seemed to be a really cool kid, actually she was your favorite out of all of Steve’s children.

„I really hope you didn’t spend all this money just to impress Billy, he doesn’t really like me you know?“ „I don’t really like him either so that’s fine. Could you show me where his room is? I’m just gonna put this stuff in there and then leave again.“, you gestured towards the big box in your hands, which was getting kinda heavy at this point. You had no idea what was in there. Your uncle had mentioned something about spark plugs and brake pads but you didn’t really listen. Worse enough that you had to function as an unpaid delivery service whenever you were friends with a customer.

„Yeah sure, it’s that door over there. But don’t tell him that I let you in there.“ „My lips are sealed. Have fun with your skateoboard!“

“Oh an y/n?” “Yeah?” “Make sure not to touch anything, he’s pretty gross.” “Not even in my wildest dreams.”

„Can I help you?“ You flinched for a split second before turning around. You would have prefered to leave unnoticed, which almost had worked out given the fact that your hand was alreay touching the knob of the front door.

„Uhm no Sir I was just about to leave.“

The tall man in front of you was raising his eyebrows suspiciously, even though they didn’t really look anything alike you figured it had to be Billy’s dad.

„Well that’s lovely but how come you were in my house without me knowing about it in the first place?“

„Oh well Max let me in, I was just dropping off some stuff for Billy an-“

„Oh so you’re the whore he’s been messing around with.“ „Excuse me?“ did that asshole really just?-

„Oh no need to act all stupid. You think I don’t realize how he’s been dressing up and sneaking out of the house like some faggot these past few weeks?“

„So what now? Is he a faggot or screwing around with whores like me? The two don’t really work together, you know?“

„I won’t be spoken to like that in my own house!“

„Yeah whatever… decide for yourself then. Might wanna work on those anger issues.“, you muttered that last part through gritted teeth as you turned towards the door again.

„What did you say to me?“

„Oh nothing. However, whoever your son’s been messing around with it ain’t me, since I am here and he obviously isn’t. So hey maybe he is a faggot after all-“ You couldn’t even react that fast. Without prior warning you were suddenly grabbed by the collar of your leather jacket and shoved against the door.

„I’m only gonna say this one time, so you better listen.“, the voice of Billy’s dad was very low an quiet, almost scary, „Since you’re parents apparently didn’t teach you any respect I’d suggest you stay away from my son. Got me?“ „Loud and clearly, sir.“ you murmured while faking the sweetest smile, „Now get off of me, asshole.“ you pushed the tall man away as hard as you could and quickly grabbed the door knob to finally take off.

You propably should have kept that last part to yourself since only seconds later you were struck by a force that caused you to fall to the floor face first. It took a few seconds before it occured to you that, that bastard had actually dared to slap you across the face after you turned your back at him.

“Jesus… Get up.” apparently that dude was so used to taking it out on his son, that it didn’t occur to him that hitting a girl half his weight, who was obviously unprepared, might result into something like this.

„Don’t touch me! What the fuck is wrong with you?“ you glared at him, while slowly getting back on your feet.

„Language, kid. Now get out of my house.“

„It will be my pleasure!“

You opened the door to storm out but-

„Y/n? What are you doing h- what happened?“

„Not now Hargrove, I’m not really in the mood to talk.“

Billy’s POV

The curly haired boy stood in the doorway for a few moments, completely puzzled, his eyes moving back and forth between you storming off and his father, who was rubbing his forehead.

„What did you do to her?“

„Son what did we say about inviting girls over to this house?“, the tall man ignored his question, while slowly shutting the door behind his son. „I..I didn’t invite her over and other than that, she’s just a friend, dad!“

„Oh sure, they always are. So what was she doing in my house then? If you didn’t invite her over?“ „I don’t know.“

„Don’t lie to me Billy.“

„Her uncle owns a garage and they ordered some stuff for me…maybe she was here because of that.“ „So you can’t even pick up your own stuff like a real man now?“, his father scoffed derogatory, „Got to have some pretty girl carry it all the way home for you?“ „Oh I’m sorry! I didn’t know that not refusing free home delivery makes you a faggot now.“

Before even finishing this sentence, Billy already knew that he was gonna regret it later. But he didn’t care. He was used to that by now.

Reader POV

„Stupid motherfucker…“ you mumbled while kicking an empty can across the street. You had been walking around Hawkins for over an hour now, trying to calm your nerves. Or in other words, you were trying to keep yourself from burning down the Hargrove’s house.

You had finally decided to give your legs some rest and took a seat on the hood of a car while lighting a cigarette. You flinched as it touched your busted lip.

„Y/n?“

Oh shit here we go.

„Hi Steve.“

„What are you doing here?“

„What are you doing here?“, you figured it was an appropriate question since you were pretty close to the Wheeler’s house and Steve wasn’t dating Nancy anymore.

„I asked first and also you’re the one sitting on the hood of my car.“

„Oh yeah I thought this one looked familiar.“ you mumbled while adjusting your position, „Just having a walk, trying to slow down my blood pressure.“

„What happened to your face?“

Steve sounded more than concerend as he took a seat next to you.

„Well Steve you’re not the only one in this town who gets beaten up. Even though I must admit it happens to you an awful lot. „Quit the stupid jokes y/n. Are you alright?“ „Yeah I’m fine. It’s nothing. It was just some stupid…you know I was over at Billy’s an-“ „Did he do this?“, Steve quickly jumped onto his feet, „I’m gonna kill that son of a b-“, „Woah slow it down there Steve, we both know how that’s gonna end.“ you grabbed your best friend by the wrirst, indicating that he should take a seat again.

„It wasn’t Billy, he wasn’t even home. I was just dropping of some stuff from the garage.“

„I don’t get it y/n…who beat you up like this?“ You were hesitant for a short moment. Not because you didn’t want to tell Steve what happened but because you weren’t sure if you were in the position to just tell him Billy’s secret.

„It wasn’t Billy…“ you sighed, „It was his dad.“

„His what? What the hell?“

„Yeah he kinda thought I was dating Billy, as if, and you know I couldn’t keep my mouth shut as ususal and then this happened.“

„You need to go to chief Hopper y/n.“ „Oh no Steve absolutely not. If somebody should go report that guy then it’s Billy and if he doesn’t wanna do that, which I can’t blame him for, then it’s none of our business. Do you understand?“ „Yeah.”, Steve nodded in agreement, ”So… his dad..beats him?“

You nodded „But don’t you dare tell him or even act as if you know that. Don’t suddenly start to act nice around him or some bullshit like that.“ „Trust me y/n I can handle not being nice to Billy Hargrove. Other than you I stick to my words apparently.“ „Oh shut up Steve.“ you jockingly hit him against the arm, „If I’d be allowed to remind you, before Billy moved here you were the asshole of this town and even then I was your friend. Sometimes you just gotta give people a chance… Now, what are you and your car doing so close to the Wheeler’s house? Do I have to be worried?“

„Nope not at all, I promised Dustin to drop him off here since the kids are meeting at Mike’s and he couldn’t carry all his weird radio equipment stuff on his bike.“ „You’re a great mom Steve.“ „Shut up y/n.“

#stranger things #billy hargrove #max mayfield #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x y/nn #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #billy hargrove x reader

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dayurno · 5 years ago

Note

💚🖤💔💓 and, uh, 💘

this was........ so long. and i’m so sorry. but thank you for giving me an opportunity to rant because i had a lot of fun!! mwah

💚: how long have you been working on it?

i started the outline on august 29th :^) so like, a month more or less. writing-wise i’d say two to three weeks!

🖤: what are your MC names?

there’s kevin and the not-kevins (andreil) but also: robin (you asked if she’s an oc -- she’s not! she’s the ONLY part of the ec i actually like; she’s the freshman who ends up getting adopted by the monsters a year or two post canon), river (kevin’s teammate & honorary best friend), yonah (captain to kevin’s new team), gigi (robin’s gf! she’s one of the vixens), and so on! i went a little bit batshit on the characterizations to be honest. if i got a dollar for every pinterest board i’ve done for this fics’ characters...

💔: give a brief character bio of your 3-5 MCs

since kandreil are literally kandreil and i haven’t changed much of them character-wise, here are a few of the characters i’ve come up with:

river yazzie: river is the first oc i made for this fic and the fellow newbie to kevin’s new team, the south carolina stingrays. they’re a goalkeeper who used to play for penn state but had to abandon exy during their senior year due to an injury! they’re an indigenous genderqueer person who end up getting constantly paired up with kevin during their first weeks at practice for being the only other new addition to the team, hence why they become friends :D river spent their first 13 years in a reservation until they moved in with their dad, who had a drinking problem river learned how to help with since young, which is what makes kevin cling to them during team events, since river is good at keeping him away from alchohol

yonah abeles: the stingrays’ captain and also an ex-penn state player!!!! she’s responsible for river’s addition to the team and also for kevin & river’s settling-in process, given the stingrays’ were a fairly stable team with very few additions/retirements before the two of them were added to the line up. she’s the first oc to actually appear -- after kevin’s hospitalization, she shows up at his house with a get well soon gift from the team :) she’s not as sunshine and butterflies as river is, but she’s as harsh and observative as kevin on the court, which is why he respects + clings to her a lot during his first practices

gigi, actually evgeniya: she’s a russian-american vixen who, upon her first meeting with the monsters, took to lying her ass off about having an accent and speaking russian at all. she’s an acting major who would have forged an entire new life for herself to them hadn’t it been for robin, whom she thought was pretty and nice enough to not lie to for fun. they meet at edens by pure accident; robin shakingly punches a dude for being too forceful in his approach and gigi only so happened to be the girl at the receiving end of said approach

sidney morales: one of the stingrays’ players, she’s a single mom whose child she brings along with to practice every now and then. she becomes acquaintances-friends with kevin for being the one who hosts most dinner parties for the team, and because her kid, a six year old named max, keeps asking kevin the weirdest questions that get the weirdest answers. have you ever seen famous striker kevin day cower at the sight of a six year old asking him if he lives on the court? she has! <3

daniel ferreira: the brazilian stingrays’ player who first approached kevin during practice! he’s known in the exy media for taking a knee during the national anthem during the last olympics, an act kevin publicly defended him for after the vicious backlash he got for it, which was his motivation to even attempt at being friends with kevin at all once they were in the same team. daniel’s girlfriend, sarah zhong, is also a stingray, and they’re the nicest couple in the world :D

💓: is it part of a series or standalone?

[rubs hands together in evil manner] you see. if everything goes well, i want to write a past-past-canon fic where it’s kandreil’s domestic life as a couple of pro exy players who live under the same roof! it would mostly just be their shenanigans + moving in together and getting used to it all over again + exploring soft moments i wouldn’t be able to write in the name of the game because they’re not stable and established enough yet

💘: give us a huge spoiler

I’M SO BAD AT GIVING SPOILERS ADMITTEDLY...... i keep thinking of what to say and i just can’t come up with anything that doesn’t sound lame!!! my spoiler is that this fic touches on the choking incident in depth and in its universe kevin spent six months fighting nonstop with andrew about it, to the point where he refused to be within andrew’s vicinity outside of practice and moved out of the dorms to stay with wymack’s for a good 2-3 months. during this period kevin and aaron actually became friends, which is why kevin moves in with nicky and aaron for a brief period. he’s only back to living with andreil after robin is added to the group, and he tells andrew to his face that it’s out of sheer worry for her, because he knows how much of an asshole andrew can be and he doesn’t want it to happen again.

they do, eventually, come together once more: the silver lining for their relationship is a point in time where andrew corners kevin and tells him to hit him back, which kevin refuses to do, but can more or less understand how guilty andrew must feel if he’s offering a vulnerability like that to make them even. after that it’s a lot of join sessions with betsy and rekindling their relationships through new deals (kevin makes andrew promise to never, ever, ever try to control him again), those of which guarantee that their relationship does not have a power imbalance like it used to have. this is important to the fic because a lot of their relationship stems from that time, and the consequences of their fight linger a lot on kandreil. needless to say, this was also a very troubling time for neil

#asks #the name of the game #i wrote this in half an hour i am genuinely a person who doesnt shut the fuck up #a combination of adhd and a gemini venus #and like. being gay

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