#goodbye local anime con | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

moving-accounts-uwu · 4 years ago

Text

Home Is Where The Heart Is {Pt. 1}

Fandom: Far Cry 5

Characters: Seed Brothers x Serah (OFC)

Story Type: Series

Series Warnings: Angst, hurt/comfort, death, violence, romance, fluff, polygamous relationship, abuse, smut, slight dub-con, religious themes, kidnapping, brain-washing, Stockholm Syndrome & Lima syndrome, some elements of the games is used (locations, story/timeline, etc).

Chapter Warnings: None!

Word count: 2.3k words

Story Summary: Serah is a young woman living in Fall’s End, Hope County and has lived there all her life. She owns her own farm and B&B, nothing very exciting ever happens in Fall’s End - except for the occasional chaos caused by Sharky Boshaw. That is until one day, three men show up with a broken down car and seeking a place to stay. Serah, being the kind and caring person she is, lets these men into her home with open arms, but she truly doesn’t know what she has invited into her life.

A/N: each chapter will have specific chapter warnings/trigger warnings at the beginning to help those who would get triggered to know what is about to happen in each chapter. I wouldn’t want to trigger anyone tho ;w; Other than that, I hope y’all enjoy this chapter 1 and updates to this story will be slow though. I know this first chapter is short but make sure to show it some love so I know y’all like it and I can continue it!! Gif is not mine btw~

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

Hope County was never really busy or loud; it was mainly quiet and peaceful. People could leave their windows and doors unlocked during the nights because no major crimes were ever committed, and the fact that Hope County only had a small amount of law enforcement because of the low crime rate.

Hope County was the perfect place for Serah. Serah had lived in Fall's End for nearly seven years, and her life has never taken a turn for the worst while living on her farm. She owned a few cows, chickens, pigs, and horses that she tends and cares for. Her large farmhouse has also been renovated to be Fall's Ends very own 'Bed & Breakfast'; getting the occasional tourist here and there, or sometimes it's a local needing a little change in scenery. Serah's main customer is Sharky Boshaw.

Sharky liked to cause a little trouble, otherwise, Hope County would be too quiet. Whenever Sharky was too drunk to go home, he always managed to walk to Serah's farm and keep her company while tending to him. Serah was also good friends with Kim and Nick Rye, the couple being her closest friends since she moved to Montana from New York. Serah wanted a change of scenery herself, and she always dreamed of owning her own farm and 'B&B'.

It was a warm morning when Serah woke up in the early hours on a Saturday. She groaned a bit, rubbing the sleep from her eyes and giving her muscles a good stretch before leaving the confines of her bed. Most of her farm chores were done the day before, so only a few small chores were left remaining. Serah planned to go to The Spread Eagle to visit Mary May, another good friend of hers from when she first moved to Fall's End and worked at the bar for four years.

As Serah was doing some dusting around the house with only having to hang out the laundry after, she was excited to get a move on and get it finished.

"C'mon, Serah, nearly done then we can have drinks to wash the stress away."

Serah couldn't wait to relax before Monday began; the only days she really lets loose is on the weekends with Mary May, and sometimes Sharky if he hasn't already been drinking and passed out somewhere. When the chores were done, Serah took a quick shower to freshen up and put on a cute white, lace sundress that had a deep neckline that flashed a bit of her cleavage and stopped just above her knees.

Serah parked her car in the parking lot before pushing through the bar doors, looking around at the few patrons already there just before 1 p.m. When she approached the bar, Mary May was quick to greet her.

"Hey, beautiful! Just finished all the chores on the farm, yeah?"

"You have no idea..." Serah gave a dramatic sigh of relief while Mary just laughed.

"Don't worry, sweetie! Maybe you could ask one of the boys to help you out around that big farm of yours. You probably need to hire some farmhands, otherwise, you're gonna get tired and grey from stress." Mary May was very motherly for someone who was only a few years older than Serah.

"You know I would if I had the money, Mary. I can't afford to hire farmhands while paying my bills, groceries, and animal feed. I'd either go broke or couldn't pay them enough to keep around." Serah shrugged before getting comfortable at the bar, trying to decide what drink she'd want to order first.

Serah ordered herself a Bourbon and Coke while conversing with Mary and a few other patrons, having the day pass slowly and having a good time. It wasn't until two in the afternoon that Serah thought about heading back to the ranch. She asked Mary if she could leave her truck in the parking lot, which Mary said yes and that she didn't need to ask, while Serah called Nick for a lift.

Serah didn't have to wait for Nick long; he came under less than 2 mins and picked her up.

"Hey there, Serah! You have a good time?" Nick asked while he headed towards the ranch.

"Oh yeah, I had a few drinks to help unwind. It's been a rough few days working, but I got everything done. Maybe I'll get a few new guests or Sharky might just crash at mine whenever he's too drunk to go home." Nick and Serah both laughed at the thought.

Nick and Serah had a sibling bond; Nick was like an older brother and Serah being younger. Serah met Nick when she turned 21 and had her first drink at the Spread Eagle, where she was introduced to Nick and Kim Rye, then five years later, she was basically another Rye in their eyes. She had a second family after losing both her parents to cancer when she was 19. Nick and Serah even got tattoos of each other's names that Nick claims 'Now you're a Rye! You're now my little sister'. The memory always brings tears of pride and joy to Serah's eyes.

Nick parked in front of Serah's ranch before hugging her tight.

"You know, you could always ask me to help you out if things are too much, sis."

"I know that Nick, but I couldn't possibly ask of that from you when Kim is this far along in her pregnancy. She'll need your help more than me. She could give birth next month or so." Serah tried to reason, but Nick just scoffed.

"Kimmie is a tough son of a bitch, every time I offer to help her, she tells me she can do it herself. Trust me, I have plenty of free time to help you out." Nick gave Serah a comforting squeeze on her shoulder before she hopped out of his car, waving him goodbye and watched him drive away.

With a sigh, Serah walked back into her home and started to plan out what to make for dinner. She heard the soft sound of her white cat, Alpine, purring away in his perch at the window sill, the sun coating him with warmth.

"Hey there, Alpine, did ya miss me?" Serah giggled as she walked by him, scratching behind his ear as she went.

*2 hours later*

Serah always had a habit of making large portions of food as if other people lived in the two-story house. She couldn't help it, Serah just created that much food so she wouldn't have to worry about making more the next day. She guessed that it was because she would have to cook for the guests when they stayed at her 'B&B' and she just can't help it. While she let the chicken and corn soup to simmer, she started to get Alpine's food ready because she knew he'd become needy soon.

"Alright, buddy, you'll be having some delicious prawns, your favorite!" Serah sang as Alpine came rushing over and meowing loudly at the smell of the prawns.

As Serah put the prawns into a small bowl and placed it on the floor near the kitchen island, she heard the sound of a slam and a muffled, angry voice followed by a calmer voice. Serah's curious mind got the better of her and snooped near the front window and peeked out through her translucent curtains to see what the commotion was. There was a black SUV parked on the side of the road, small amounts of smoke coming from the hood while three men stood around the front of the car. One of the men had red hair and beard with scars covering parts of his face and forearms; he was the one who was angry at the fact that their car must have broken down while the two other men stood around letting the redhead vent. One of the other men was dressed in very luxurious clothes and had many tattoos covering his arms and hands, and he also sported a beard. The other man had his hair in a bun, wore yellow-tinted glasses, and looked to be trying to calm the scarred man.

Serah was still in a daze by watching the men that she hadn't realized that the men had noticed her house, and one of them was making their way to her front door. The sudden sound of knocking on her door startled Serah out of her daze and she quietly made her way to the front door. When she made sure her little latch lock was in place, she opened the door slightly to greet the man with the tinted glasses and man-bun.

"Hello my child, my name is Joseph, and my brothers and I happen to be in a bit of a predicament. It seems our car has broken down and we don't know how to fix the issue, would you happen to know of anyone who knows mechanics?" The man said.

Serah blinked for a few seconds, registering what he had said.

"Oh!" You looked at your little wristwatch to see that the time was now 4:30 in the afternoon and that the closest mechanic store is at least 45 minutes away and closes at 5 o'clock. "Um, the closest mechanic is nearly an hour away, and they'll be closing soon, so you won't be able to see them until tomorrow."

"That is quite alright. I also saw that this loving ranch was a 'Bed & Breakfast', would my brothers and I be able to seek refuge here for the night until one of us are ready to walk into town?" Joseph gestured to the two other men still standing by the SUV who were looking at them from afar.

"Oh, of course! And because of your circumstances, I won't charge you; I'd feel bad if I did. Save your money for when you get your car fixed." Serah gave him a warm smile, unlatching the lock on the door and opening it wide.

Joseph motioned for his brothers to come forth while he continued to talk to you.

"That is very kind of you, my dear. May I ask, what is your name? It's silly of me for not asking our host's name."

She then made way for the three men to enter her house and they huddled in the open space living room.

"My name's Serah, and I'll be your host. I've got some chicken and corn soup that's just settling and will be ready to serve. I also have spares bedrooms upstairs if you'll follow me!" Serah led the three men to the rooms and let them choose a room for themselves while also being introduced to the two men, John and Jacob.

Jacob was the eldest Seed brother while Joseph was the middle child, and John being the youngest. Jacob served in the army and was a hardened soldier; John used to be a lawyer while Joseph claims to be 'The Father'. He preached about the gifts of God and how God would occasionally speak to him or give him visions about 'the Collapse'. Serah was never really religious; she never cared for religion but never stopped anyone who did. She politely listened to Joseph talk about this 'Project at Eden's Gate' and how he and his brothers have come to Hope County to save as many people as he can before the collapse because that is what God has told him.

Serah started to serve the Seed brothers the soup when John spotted Alpine walk into the dining area.

"Oh, and who is this little guy?" John asked while petting the white feline.

"That's Alpine; he was a stray when I found him as a kitten. He was so small and malnourished, but he stole my heart the second I saw him. He's my little fur baby." Serah picked Alpine up into her arms and cuddled him for a bit.

The four of them ate, Joseph and Serah doing most of the talking, John contributing now and then while Jacob grunted in acknowledgment. Joseph talked more about Eden's Gate then asked where would be the best place to buy a property big enough to host sermons for him and his followers or 'children' as he called them. Serah answered as many of Joseph's questions but told them that they would have to see sheriff Whitehorse about getting a license to carry when John asked about that.

When dinner was over, Serah grabbed all the empty bowls and was prepping to wash them when John stopped her.

"Please, you've cooked and let us rest for the night for free, the least we could do is wash the dishes. Go and relax, dear."

Serah gave him a sweet smile, nodded, and thanked him before heading for the living room to read a book. Jacob seemed to already have worked out the TV remote, and he and Joseph were flicking through the channels. The sat in silence with only the noise of the dishes being washed in the kitchen to fill in as background noise. The rest of the evening went by with small talk and watching whatever is on TV before the Seed brothers and Serah bid goodnight to each other at around ten.

As Serah was about to enter her room, she was stopped by Joseph yet again.

"I'd like to thank you again, Serah. It seems God has led us to you, and to be blessed with your kindness and hospitality. Hopefully, in weeks to come, we'll see you again. Goodnight, dear." With that, Joseph went into his room, leaving Serah in the little hallway who was touched by his words.

As Serah did her nightly routine and hopped into bed, she had a nightmare of an explosion and the world on fire.

Thank you for reading this short chapter!

24 notes · View notes

thanksjro · 5 years ago

Text

Spotlight: Hoist - This One’s About the Guy I Keep Mistaking for Hound.

It’s time to focus on the straight man. Not, like, straight as in hetero. Don’t get it twisted, Hoist is queer by default just like every Cybertronian in IDW, not that that’s been established in-canon just yet. No, Hoist is the straight man because he’s the grounding line in this issue.

Hoist, as established during Spotlight: Trailcutter, is off the Lost Light currently on a mission. At this exact moment, he’s running from something.

Well, it was nice knowing you, Hoist!

No, he manages to escape Tarn’s grasp by doing some sweet grappling hook drifting using his tow line, and books it for the crashed shuttle that all his fellow mission-goers are hiding out in. Missionaries, if you will. Looks like Swerve left right after Trailcutter hung up on him, so it’s probably for the best that he didn’t get that forcefield around his voice box. Can’t imagine it working at that long a range. Sunstreaker’s here, along with his pet, Bob. Sunstreaker’s feeling a little salty right now, probably because he’s supposed to be the handsome one, and instead he’s got some sort of face thing going on in this issue.

Yeah, nobody looks quite right in Spotlight: Hoist. Then again, maybe I just don’t get Cybertronian beauty standards.

On that note, let’s take a real quick look at our interior artist for this issue, Agustin Padilla. Padilla doesn’t have a ton of work within the Transformers franchise, but he’s worked on some iconic pieces- specifically, MTMTE #16, The Gloaming.

Yeah, THAT one. We’ll get more into his work when we hit that issue, I promise.

Back to the story at hand: Hoist puts on the cloaking device for the ship, hiding them from Tarn, then gripes to Swerve about the scanner scope being a huge friggin’ liar, because it said that there wasn’t a gotdang thing out there, because there clearly is. Swerve is less than thrilled by the prospect of having Tarn in the general vicinity, to the point that he forgets how to talk for a solid .5 seconds. Swerve’s seen the DJD in action, and it’s not pretty.

They’ve got six hours before the cloaking shields drain the power, then it’s goodbye Safetytown, hello Murderville. So, what better way to spend their final hours than by sniping at one another over things like fault and who’s gotten the shortest end of the stick here?

Looks like Perceptor has a pretty strong lead on all the other guys, seeing as his legs have become one with the ship. Hoist’s busy trying to get in touch with the Lost Light, though no one’s picking up. Gee, wonder why.

Swerve is really in a needling mood, as he asks Sunstreaker where his apology is, seeing as he was the one piloting the ship when they crashed. Sunstreaker blows a gasket for a second over the fact that all he seems to do these days is apologize. Hoist manages to calm the situation and change the topic pretty smoothly, as he fiddles around with the internals of the shuttle to try and get the Lost Light’s attention.

Good at multitasking, Hoist is.

We get the backstory on Bob, who Sunstreaker found after Metroplex woke up and decimated the local Insecticon population on Cybertron, almost certainly upsetting the balance of the ecosystem and traumatizing poor Bob. Yes, even our dog stand-ins have trauma in MTMTE. Sunstreaker, in true pet-owner fashion, baby-talks Bob, saying that he’ll bite that big, nasty Tarn if he gets near them, won’t he? Oh yes he will! Yes he will! What a good boy, yes you are!

Swerve isn’t so optimistic.

Well, that’s certainly a sentence I just read with my own two eyes. Really hoping this is a bit of hyperbole, because I’d hate to think just what sort of life Swerve’s led that resulted in him watching a guy triple his size give himself an enema.

Sunstreaker, who knows that Swerve is kind of a massive baby, isn’t terribly impressed with how scared the DJD made Swerve, accidentally strokes the guy’s ego for a moment.

Swerve, completely on the defensive now, lists off the five things he’s afraid of. Hoist butts in to point out the implausibility of Swerve’s fears.

Smash cut to four hours later, and Swerve hasn’t slowed down a bit, having talked to the point that he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it anymore. Sunstreaker’s about had it with this marathon bashing he’s receiving, and suggests that Swerve pick on Hoist for a change. Swerve declines, saying that there just isn’t enough material to work with, because Hoist is boring.

Fun fact, this is his character quote for his introductory paragraph on the Wiki article. He had so little characterization up to this point, this is what they went with. Such is the fate of many of the Transformers who didn’t enter the original 80s cartoon until the second season. Roberts decided to run with it and take the rare opportunity to NOT give someone mental illness so severe and unchecked it’s simultaneously sad and hilarious. Hoist is probably the only dude in the entirety of the IDW run to just be a regular person.

After Swerve confirms that he does in fact know his colors, we blow past another hour, to find Hoist hard at work cutting Perceptor off of the ceiling/floor- Hoist, like most everyone on the Lost Light, is a doctor- as Sunstreaker and Swerve discuss previous scrapes they’ve gotten through. Apparently Sunstreaker fell off a bridge forever ago that was named after a biblical reference, because it doesn’t matter how little you believe in a higher power, you CANNOT escape the pull of the 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜.

Swerve asks Hoist if he has anything to contribute to the discussion, and while Hoist does have experience in near-death situations, he’d really rather not talk about it. Swerve respects his privacy.

Well, he tries.

Hoist indulges our little red and white idiot, because it’ll get everyone the Swerve-equivalent of peace and quiet, and begins his tale.

Long story short, it looks like another hotshot pilot had the same idea as Hoist’s, and things got a little crashy-explodey-everyone’s-deady. Hoist was the only survivor, and had to walk his sorry butt back to civilization. Then the exhaustion set in, and he was forced to sit there, fully convinced that he would die alone in the middle of nowhere.

Once he’s finished with his story, Hoist makes the horrific discovery that Swerve’s been bleeding to death over the last five hours, and failed to mention it.

No, Sunstreaker, he’s honestly just like that all the time.

Swerve’s spark casing has ruptured, which I can only imagine is somewhat similar to having a hole poked in your heart. A problem, to put it lightly. Sunstreaker and Hoist decide that, to keep Swerve from biting it, they’ll take the fight to the DJD, in an attempt to get some sort of transport back to the Lost Light and all the tasty medical equipment on board.

Man, it really is unfortunate that Rung’s still not got a head at this point in the timeline, because Swerve is like a jelly donut filled with self-loathing. God just took a jumbo-sized bakery syringe and jammed it right in there.

Hoist and Sunstreaker ignore Swerve’s protests/pained screaming, and gear up for a fight with what they can find. Hoist manages to make two working crossbows and a butt-ton of arrows, not to mention a couple bowie knives in about five minutes, and they head out to kick some tushie.

The lads split up, keeping in touch via communicators, and Sunstreaker manages to get found by Tarn. He gets his ass kicked, because of course he does- the DJD aren’t famous for their macramé and pies, they’re famous for super-murder and being horny for the Decepticause. As Sunstreaker has the realization that he’s leaving his beloved Bob behind, Hoist finds him. Sunstreaker’s in quite the pickle, because he’s had his chest blown in, and Tarn’s been replaced by Shockwave, Megatron, Sixshot, and Overlord.

This just gets better and better doesn’t it?

Then this happens:

Welp.

Swerve’s theory may hold some water, but we can’t worry about that right now, because Hoist is going to try and fight this bastard. Good luck with that, Hoist.

Yeah, that went about as well as it could have.

Hoist is about to get stomped like a bug, when the Con-biner suddenly phases out of existence. Weird.

Hoist runs back to the shuttle, I guess just leaving Sunstreaker in the middle of that clearing, even though he literally is a tow truck. He returns to find that Swerve’s passed out from blood loss, but Perceptor’s still awake, which is good, because there’s some grade-A bullshit going on on this planet, and we need the smart guy to info-dump for the sake of the plot.

Man, this is such a cool plot device, and I’m so mad it never comes up again after this Spotlight.

So, Tarn and all the big bads that Hoist ran into weren’t real, but projections of his and his team’s worst fears. It was feeding off of Swerve, but now that he’s down for the count, it’ll probably go for either Hoist or Perceptor next.

Then there’s what feels like an earthquake, one so powerful it finally removes Perceptor from the ceiling, letting what’s left of his body fall. Hoist runs outside to see just what the hell’s happening now, only to find Metroplex outside and closing in.

The phobia shields work on sub-sentient creatures too? Good lord, this thing just never stops, does it?

Thinking quickly, Hoist scoops up Swerve and the upper half of Perceptor and bolts for the edge of the cliff their ship is sitting next to. He must have been training for the Robot Olympics or something, because he makes the leap by a large margin, even when weighed down by two limp bodies.

Then he punches Perceptor in the face, knocking him out cold.

Then he commits an act of animal abuse as he knocks Bob out with his tow hook.

Our hero, folks! Let’s give him a hand!

As Metroplex fades out of existence, Hoist remembers that he is not immune to trauma, as he’s forced to sit there, completely alone, until help arrives.

No wonder he got that massive Rodimus Star. What a trooper.

Thus ends Spotlight: Hoist, as well as the Spotlight series as a whole.

So, Swerve may not have much of a read on Hoist, but I figure I can try and take a stab at it. Hoist is… helpful. The entire issue, he’s the one who never stops doing things. If he’s not trying to repair the shuttle, he’s cutting Perceptor out of the floor, or he’s patrolling the perimeter, or trying to defuse the tension between his crewmates, or building weaponry, or punching people in the face for the greater good.

The folks he’s surrounded with for his Spotlight accent the characteristics he lacks- he’s not insanely smart like Perceptor, or strikingly handsome like Sunstreaker is intended to be, or capable of holding a conversation like Swerve. He blends into the background, always has and always will, both within canon and as a character.

He’s just a guy. He’s the guy, a jack of all trades, master of none. And that’s okay.

#transformers #jro #mtmte #spotlight #maccadam #Hannzreads #text post #long post #comic script writing #overthinking about robots

96 notes · View notes

eerna · 5 years ago

Note

“me freshman year of high school? yeah thats a protag” PLEASE elaborate

You got it. I shall now dramatically overshare how cliche my first high school was. God I went to a different place writing this. Watch me wake up tomorrow and delete it in panic, but just for tonight, let us relish in the drama

So, at 15 I was weirder, more shy and unaware of my own worth, had a resting bitchface and a 500 page book in hands at any given moment, had like 2 friends, kept a detailed diary, wanted to become an architect, had a not-like-other-girls mentality, and looked EXACTLY my age. Here, you enter high school based on your academic success and career path, and none of my friends made it into my Wow We’re So Smart school, which means that year I had the opportunity for a completely fresh start. I did it by spending the year growing into my very feminine nature, learning how to break my Cold Honors Student exterior and actually make friends. What a great premise for a high school drama heroine.

Drama plot no 1 was the BOY PLOT YAYYY but not really. Looking back, there was 5 recurring boys interested in me, and it ranged from childhood friends whose advances I was completely oblivious to, to jock classmates who hit on me head on for the first time in my life. But, being your everyday YA heroine, I didn’t really get it, because WHY would ANYONE be interested in borin ol me??? I must be SEEING THINGS~~ Enter resident Mean Girl- she sat behind me in class, our surnames were next to each other so we’d always get paired for assistant duty, and had her gang of annoying rich fashion girls who thought they were better than everyone else even though no one else did. She dated both of the jocks during the year, and the second one became her serious boyfriend for the rest of the year. Now, I have no idea what exactly went down, but apparently she couldn’t get over her boyfriend(s) paying attention to me, so she started doing the typical Mean Girl spiel. She gossiped, mocked, threw eraser particles at me, cut my hair when I wasn’t paying attention. I didn’t take it silently, but I didn’t exactly fight her, either, because, um….. Her precious boyfriend was abusive. We all knew it. We all pitied her. What was I supposed to do but ignore those petty provocations.

Drama plot no 2 was when one of my middle school friend started acting like a movie cliche, too, and was personally offended I chose not to do it myself. Without going into detail, at the beginning of the year I was convinced I had to stay with her or she would do something horrible to herself, but she was a horribly unhealthy influence on me, and my heart was broken when we parted ways. (She’s great now btw!! She found help and is happy and content)

Drama plot no 3 was that, the longer the year went on, the more I realized I hated being there. Among the students, I was known as the smartest kid of the year, but suddenly I was facing- *shudders*- S E X I S M. My teachers were ignoring me, the rest of the Smart Squad TM (fully composed of boys) did too. Once we got a special assignment for math, and I uncharacteristically teamed up with the boys to solve it. I was the one to crack it, only to discover they took my work and presented it as their own, and I had no proof to go against a gaggle of teachers’ pets.

Drama plot no 4 was just a lot of parties and going clubbing for the first time, ya know, the music montage parts of movies except it alternated between me having fun and crying in the bathroom bc I kept getting overwhelmed. I never got further than tipsy, though, so I don’t have a corresponding story for that part of YA experience, sorry :///

There were a lot of small things too, like the time a friend shared a hotel room with the jock bf during a school trip and he kicked him out to spend a wonderful night with the Mean Girl, so he joined our sleepover and there were like 6 of us in one small bed and we were all cramped but happy. That same night we had a forbidden party in our room, and had lookouts for security and secret signals and had to hide from lights being shined through our window.

First day of school, I realized I already knew Mean Girl’s best friend, but not because I’d met her before or even seen her picture, but because one of my middle school friends knew her and her descriptions throughout the years were incredibly vivid (she hated her guts and went on rants about her ugly nose mole - which was not that large - and her inability to stop talking about her sister - during her “tell something about yourself” she showed us a note her sister, who’d graduated from our school, left in her pencil case - and how annoying her trumpet voice was - self explanatory). There was that time a friend’s friend asked me for nudes and, after a small heart attack, I spammed him with pictures of gorillas in heat.

Then, the obligatory sex ed episode, when the Mean Girl and her squad, being the only sexually active girls, bragged high and low abt some stuff I knew wasn’t biologically correct but had no interest to argue. I also found friends who liked anime, and we went to local cons together and had a blast. On my sixteenth birthday, I returned from the lunch break only to find the entire class (or most of them, I guess) standing around a desk and singing Happy Birthday, as a cupcake with a candle waited for me, and ngl I cried a lil bit. For New Years’ I had to attend three parties throughout the night bc I didn’t expect to have any plans, so I accepted three different offers without thinking (funny story, I didn’t get the photos from one of them until a month ago. Talk about a blast from the past). The first day after spring break, when a friend intercepted me as I was entering the classroom and requested me to close my eyes. I refused, very suspicious and caught by surprise, but he kept perstering me until I reluctantly did it, only to find an Eiffel Tower keychain in my hand- a gift from his vacation.

And the triumphant ending of my YA story, the conclusion of the character arc, came in October of the following year, when I realized I was so successful in reinventing myself my life flipped upside down and I decided I was more suited to a life of pursuing art and small pleasures than having to spend my life proving myself to people who didn’t make me happy. It was a tearful goodbye, no one really understood why I did it, but I transferred to music school, and from then on, my life became HSM and was like ten times less dramatic and wayyyy happier. The end

#personal #in case someone has it blocked bc hoo boy this is personal #eernanon #eernask

51 notes · View notes

yourkeeperoftherunners · 4 years ago

Text

6/9: The Con(vention) Run-in

Rating: PG (Fake fight for photo op)

Characters: Convention Attendee!Bang Chan x Reader (any gender), featuring Convention Attendee!Felix and mention of other characters

Notes: The final day of my birthday surprise series. Normally I try to attend Comic Con or its sister convention WonderCon, but both were postponed due to current events. This is a non-idol AU. The Aussie line are imagined as cousins in this story. All content is fictional. Please do not repost anywhere!

————–

llamajinnie

I can’t believe it... Sent 8:10 AM

bc1997

It won’t be that bad! Besides the tickets were free! Sent 8:12 AM

Chan looked up from his phone when he felt a tap on his shoulder. His cousin was holding out his badge he needed to wear to enter the convention and he thanked him. He put his phone away in a pocket and slipped the lanyard on over his head.

Instead of working on music like he usually did in his spare time, Chan was accompanying his cousin Felix to a comic convention. The latter won tickets through a radio contest and his parents couldn’t attend. Because his mom didn’t want him going alone, she asked Chan if he could spare a weekend and accompany Felix to the convention.

Most his friends were shocked he would tag along with the younger boy, especially since Felix was the one who was more into the nerd scene, namely anime and manga. Chan’s friend Hyunjin was convinced that the former’s aunt likely bribed him with money if he drove and chaperoned Felix for a weekend at the convention, but Chan insisted he really wanted to go. Sure he wasn’t a huge comic book or pop culture nerd like his cousin, but it gave him an excuse to wear that Captain America costume he spent too much money on from Halloween.

“Thanks again,” Felix said as he flipped his badge to the front, showing his name. “Mum said lunch and dinner is on her.”

“No, it’s fine,” Chan insisted.

Felix shook his head and replied that it was non-negotiable. The pair made their way to a line to enter the convention center and waited for security to wave them inside. They flashed their badges at the security personnel and stepped inside.

Felix adjusted his beret, which was starting to slide off his head, due to the long rabbit ears he put on top.

“So uh, who are you again?” Chan asked as he studied his cousin’s costume.

“Momiji from Fruits Basket,” Felix explained. “He’s the rabbit in the Chinese zodiac. Thought it made sense, since everyone thinks I’m still a kid with the baby face.”

“Plus the hair,” Chan added. “Okay, never saw the anime, but cool!”

Felix nodded as he fixed his backpack straps and dashed ahead to check out the tables in the art section of the convention. Chan tried to catch up and had to apologize as he weaved around other participants. He ducked as a Harley Quinn from the recent live-action film barely missed him with her toy bat, as she started to put it up for a photo op.

“Hang on Cap, can I get a picture?” a male voice asked.

Chan whirled around and saw it was a father with a young son, dressed as Thor. He smiled at the son and nodded as he removed his shield backpack off his shoulders to hold for the photo. The son hesitated, and shyly looked up at Chan.

“Come on Thor, we need you in the picture too,” Chan said as he motioned for the young boy to stand next to him.

The young boy skipped over to him and Chan knelt down on one knee. He held out his shield backpack, while the boy clutched his toy version of Mjölnir. The father snapped the picture with his digital camera and quickly checked the photo, before flashing a thumbs-up.

“Thank you,” Chan said as he stood up. He waved goodbye to the young boy and secured the backpack on his shoulders. He craned his neck, looking for Felix, who was several feet away, talking to one artist at their booth. He quickly walked toward his cousin and tapped him on the shoulder.

Felix whirled around and pointed to some example works of art that the artist had on display. “Perfect timing! Actually I was thinking about doing a commission with this guy. Who should I have done?”

Chan bit his lip and tried to think of any anime characters that he might know. He maybe watched a few as a kid growing up, but his mum made him go out and play or practice swimming, which was better than sitting in front of a screen in her opinion.

“Um...Goku from Dragonball Z? Naruto?” he offered, trying not to wince. “Sorry, it’s been a really long time since I’ve watched an anime.”

Felix nodded and flipped through the dossier on the table for inspiration for a few seconds. Eventually he settled on some character from an anime he wasn’t familiar with (Tower something?) and the artist scribbled a note in his notebook.

“It’s going to take me probably until 1 PM to do that,” the artist told Felix. “Someone is ahead of you with a two character commission, so that’s gonna be worked on first. I’d say come back around 2:30 and I might have it ready by then.”

Felix thanked him and dug out his wallet to pay for the piece. He passed over some bills and the artist made change for him.

————–

“Is that Binnie you’re messaging?” Felix asked.

Chan shook his head as he looked up from his phone. “Hyunjin. He’s convinced I’m trapped and not having fun. But then again, he’s not big on crowds and comic stuff.”

“Oh...” Felix trailed off. He craned his neck and noticed there were two seats closer to the front of the room. “We should grab those before the next panel starts.” He pushed himself out of his seat and quickly walked over to the empty chairs.

Chan stood up and followed his cousin, eventually taking the aisle seat in their new row. The pair had walked the floor for a few hours and now they were sitting in a room to listen and watch a panel on some anime series that Felix watched regularly. This allowed Chan to sit and relax, as well as respond to Hyunjin about how things were going.

“I promise we can grab lunch after this,” Felix whispered as someone came on stage to introduce the panelists.

Chan flashed him a thumbs-up and pocketed his phone out of respect for the panel. He leaned back in his seat as the moderator introduced all of the voice acting talent and then they rolled a new trailer for the next season. Once the trailer ended, the moderator began asking questions to the members on the panel and the audience listened to their responses. Eventually the panel began accepting fan questions, and Felix decided to rush up to the mic to ask one.

“MOMIJI!” one of the female panelists yelled with a huge smile on her face. “Oh my gosh, you are precious!”

Felix blushed at the compliment and ducked his head, before composing him and asking his question. The deep voice shocked the panelists and Chan bit back a laugh as one of the male panelists joked that he wanted to trade voices with Felix. The comment made the room laugh and Felix laughed along with them, then stepped to the side for the next fan to ask their question.

————–

The boys exited the panel room after Felix’s panel concluded and Chan began researching local restaurants they could get lunch at. Both decided against the convention center food, as it was pricey and Felix mentioned that Minho had tried it once during a cat convention, giving it poor reviews.

“There’s a cat convention? Oh wait, that’s rhetorical,” Chan mused as he pictured their friend walking every row of the cat convention with a content smile on his face. “Do you know if they had cats for adoption? Or was it products for your cat?”

“Both apparently,” Felix replied as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Minho went to look at special food for one cat, cause he needed to go on a diet, and then he wanted a fancy collar for his female cat.”

“That’s not where he got the third cat right?”

His cousin gave him a blank look and scrunched his brows. “Hang on, he has three now? I thought he only had two!”

“No he’s got three now,” Chan confirmed. “His Christmas card showed him with three cats plus him wearing Santa hats.”

Felix tried to recall if he got a Christmas card from Minho, while Chan went back to looking at restaurants. He paused when he found some options and started to show them to his cousin. Then he felt a hand on his shoulder and he turned his head to see it was someone dressed as Bucky Barnes in his Winter Soldier attire.

“Hey Cap, could we get a fight picture?” you asked under your black mask.

He nodded as he slowly removed his backpack from his shoulders and held the straps so they wouldn’t show in the picture. He turned to face you and you balled up the fist with your “metal” arm.

“I’m going to punch your shield, okay?” you explained.

He nodded and positioned himself as if he was defending himself with the shield. You placed your fist on the center of the shield and adjusted your feet, so it looked more convincing.

Felix stepped between the two of you and asked if you had a camera or phone you wanted to use. You nodded and used your free hand to pull out and unlock your phone. You switched to the camera app and handed it to him, murmuring a thank you.

He took the phone and put in landscape mode, checking to make sure everything was in focus. He counted to three, before clicking the button your screen a few times, just so you had more than one. He then switched to his phone and took some pictures too. He passed your phone over and you thanked him before checking the photos over.

“Perfect, thanks,” you replied. You dug around in your tactical vest and produced a card with your name and Instagram handle on it. “If you’re on IG, feel free to tag me. I’ll be uploading pics later tonight.”

Chan accepted the card and thanked you with a smile. He put it away in his pocket and added that you did an amazing job with it.

“Thank you,” you replied. “The arm was the hardest part but it came out good. Not the most comfortable thing to wear, but it’s all good. You make a good Cap.”

Chan ducked his head and waved it away as nothing. “I bought my costume – wish I had your talent.”

“Ah who cares? It looks great and you do too,” you confirmed, flashing him a thumbs-up. Your phone buzzed in your hand and you groaned when you saw it was your alarm for your next panel you were hoping to see. “Shoot, gotta run. My panel starts in 7 minutes. Have a great con!”

Chan nodded as he waved goodbye to you, while Felix held up his phone to show off his pictures.

“They came out pretty good,” he noted. “I’m guessing they’re a professional cosplayer.”

Chan patted the pocket with the card. “I’ll have to look them up online when we’re done.”

#Stray Kids Bang Chan #Stray Kids Felix #Stray Kids AU #SKZ AU #Bang Chan #Lee Felix #Bang Chan AU #Lee Felix AU #yourkeeperoftherunners original #number 3007

11 notes · View notes

mrbaodk · 10 years ago

Text

Bài từ vựng tiếng anh vỡ lòng

Hello Xin chào Goodbye tạm biệt, thì thào Whisper Lie nằm, Sleep ngủ, Dream mơ Thấy cô gái đẹp See girl beautiful I want tôi muốn, kiss hôn Lip môi, Eyes mắt … sướng rồi … oh yeah! Long dài, short ngắn, tall cao Here đây, there đó, which nào, where đâu Sentence có nghĩa là câu Lesson bài học, rainbow cầu vồng Husband là đức ông chồng Daddy cha bố, please don"t xin đừng Darling tiếng gọi em cưng Merry vui thích, cái sừng là horn Rách rồi xài đỡ chữ torn To sing là hát, a song một bài Nói sai sự thật to lie Go đi, come đến, một vài là some Đứng stand, look ngó, lie nằm Five năm, four bốn, hold cầm, play chơi One life là một cuộc đời Happy sung sướng, laugh cười, cry kêu Lover tạm dịch ngừơi yêu Charming duyên dáng, mỹ miều graceful Mặt trăng là chữ the moon World là thế giới, sớm soon, lake hồ Dao knife, spoon muỗng, cuốc hoe Đêm night, dark tối, khổng lồ giant Fund vui, die chết, near gần Sorry xin lỗi, dull đần, wise khôn Burry có nghĩa là chôn Our souls tạm dịch linh hồn chúng ta Xe hơi du lịch là car Sir ngài, Lord đức, thưa bà Madam Thousand là đúng…mười trăm Ngày day, tuần week, year năm, hour giờ Wait there đứng đó đợi chờ Nightmare ác mộng, dream mơ, pray cầu Trừ ra except, deep sâu Daughter con gái, bridge cầu, pond ao Enter tạm dịch đi vào Thêm for tham dự lẽ nào lại sai Shoulder cứ dịch là vai Writer văn sĩ, cái đài radio A bowl là một cái tô Chữ tear nước mắt, tomb mồ, miss cô Máy khâu dùng tạm chữ sew Kẻ thù dịch đại là foe chẳng lầm Shelter tạm dịch là hầm Chữ shout là hét, nói thầm whisper What time là hỏi mấy giờ Clear trong, clean sạch, mờ mờ là dim Gặp ông ta dịch see him Swim bơi, wade lội, drown chìm chết trôi Mountain là núi, hill đồi Valley thung lũng, cây sồi oak tree Tiền xin đóng học school fee Yêu tôi dùng chữ love me chẳng lầm To steal tạm dịch cầm nhầm Tẩy chay boycott, gia cầm poultry Cattle gia súc, ong bee Something to eat chút gì để ăn Lip môi, tongue lưỡi, teeth răng Exam thi cử, cái bằng licence… Lovely có nghĩa dễ thương Pretty xinh đẹp thường thường so so Lotto là chơi lô tô Nấu ăn là cook , wash clothes giặt đồ Push thì có nghĩa đẩy, xô Marriage đám cưới, single độc thân Foot thì có nghĩa bàn chân Far là xa cách còn gần là near Spoon có nghĩa cái thìa Toán trừ subtract, toán chia divide Dream thì có nghĩa giấc mơ Month thì là tháng , thời giờ là time Job thì có nghĩa việc làm Lady phái nữ, phái nam gentleman Close friend có nghĩa bạn thân Leaf là chiếc lá, còn sun mặt trời Fall down có nghĩa là rơi Welcome chào đón, mời là invite Short là ngắn, long là dài Mũ thì là hat, chiếc hài là shoe Autumn có nghĩa mùa thu Summer mùa hạ , cái tù là jail Duck là vịt , pig là heo Rich là giàu có , còn nghèo là poor Crab thi` có nghĩa con cua Church nhà thờ đó , còn chùa temple Aunt có nghĩa dì , cô Chair là cái ghế, cái hồ là pool Late là muộn , sớm là soon Hospital bệnh viẹn , school là trường Dew thì có nghĩa là sương Happy vui vẻ, chán chường weary Exam có nghĩa kỳ thi Nervous nhút nhát, mommy mẹ hiền. Region có nghĩa là miền, Interupted gián đoạn còn liền next to. Coins dùng chỉ những đồng xu, Còn đồng tiền giấy paper money. Here chỉ dùng để chỉ tại đây, A moment một lát còn ngay ringht now, Brothers-in-law đồng hao. Farm-work đòng áng, đồng bào Fellow- countryman Narrow- minded chỉ sự nhỏ nhen, Open-hended hào phóng còn hèn là mean. Vẫn còn dùng chữ still, Kỹ năng là chữ skill khó gì! Gold là vàng, graphite than chì. Munia tên gọi chim ri Kestrel chim cắt có gì khó đâu. Migrant kite là chú diều hâu Warbler chim chích, hải âu petrel Stupid có nghĩa là khờ, Đảo lên đảo xuống, stir nhiều nhiều. How many có nghĩa bao nhiêu. Too much nhiều quá , a few một vài Right là đúng , wrong là sai Chess là cờ tướng , đánh bài playing card Flower có nghĩa là hoa Hair là mái tóc, da là skin Buổi sáng thì là morning King là vua chúa, còn Queen nữ hoàng Wander có nghĩa lang thang Màu đỏ là red, màu vàng yellow Yes là đúng, không là no Fast là nhanh chóng, slow chậm rì Sleep là ngủ, go là đi Weakly ốm yếu healthy mạnh lành White là trắng, green là xanh Hard là chăm chỉ , học hành study Ngọt là sweet, kẹo candy Butterfly là bướm, bee là con ong River có nghĩa dòng sông Wait for có nghĩa ngóng trông đợi chờ Dirty có nghĩa là dơ Bánh mì bread, còn bơ butter Bác sĩ thì là doctor Y tá là nurse, teacher giáo viên Mad dùng chỉ những kẻ điên, Everywhere có nghĩa mọi miền gần xa. A song chỉ một bài ca. Ngôi sao dùng chữ star, có liền! Firstly có nghĩa trước tiên Silver là bạc , còn tiền money Biscuit thì là bánh quy Can là có thể, please vui lòng Winter có nghĩa mùa đông Iron là sắt còn đồng copper Kẻ giết người là killer Cảnh sát police , lawyer luật sư Emigrate là di cư Bưu điện post office, thư từ là mail Follow có nghĩa đi theo Shopping mua sắm còn sale bán hàng Space có nghĩa không gian Hàng trăm hundred, hàng ngàn thousand Stupid có nghĩa ngu đần Thông minh smart, equation phương trình Television là truyền hình Băng ghi âm là tape, chương trình program Hear là nghe watch là xem Electric là điện còn lamp bóng đèn Praise có nghĩa ngợi khen Crowd đông đúc, lấn chen hustle Capital là thủ đô City thành phố , local địa phương Country có nghĩa quê hương Field là đồng ruộng còn vườn garden Chốc lát là chữ moment Fish là con cá , chicken gà tơ Naive có nghĩa ngây thơ Poet thi sĩ , great writer văn hào Tall thì có nghĩa là cao Short là thấp ngắn, còn chào hello Uncle là bác, elders cô. Shy mắc cỡ, coarse là thô. Come on có nghĩa mời vô, Go away đuổi cút, còn vồ pounce. Poem có nghĩa là thơ, Strong khoẻ mạnh, mệt phờ dog- tiered. Bầu trời thường gọi sky, Life là sự sống còn die lìa đời Shed tears có nghĩa lệ rơi Fully là đủ, nửa vời by halves Ở lại dùng chữ stay, Bỏ đi là leave còn nằm là lie. Tomorrow có nghĩa ngày mai Hoa sen lotus, hoa lài jasmine Madman có nghĩa người điên Private có nghĩa là riêng của mình Cảm giác là chữ feeling Camera máy ảnh hình là photo Động vật là animal Big là to lớn , little nhỏ nhoi Elephant là con voi Goby cá bống, cá mòi sardine Mỏng mảnh thì là chữ thin Cổ là chữ neck, còn chin cái cằm Visit có nghĩa viếng thăm Lie down có nghĩa là nằm nghỉ ngơi Mouse con chuột , bat con dơi Separate có nghĩa tách rời , chia ra Gift thì có nghĩa món quà Guest thì là khách chủ nhà house owner Bệnh ung thư là cancer Lối ra exit, enter đi vào Up lên còn xuống là down Beside bên cạnh, about khoảng chừng Stop có nghĩa là ngừng Ocean là biển, rừng là jungle Silly là kẻ dại khờ, Khôn ngoan smart, đù đờ luggish Hôn là kiss, kiss thật lâu. Cửa sổ là chữ window Special đ��c biệt normal thường thôi Lazy… làm biếng quá rồi Ngồi mà viết tiếp một hồi die soon Hứng thì cứ việc go on, Còn không stop ta còn nghỉ ngơi! Cằm CHIN có BEARD là râu RAZOR dao cạo, HEAD đầu, da SKIN THOUSAND thì gọi là nghìn BILLION là tỷ, LOOK nhìn , rồi THEN LOVE MONEY quý đồng tiền Đầu tư INVEST, có quyền RIGHTFUL WINDY RAIN STORM bão bùng MID NIGHT bán dạ, anh hùng HERO COME ON xin cứ nhào vô NO FEAR hổng sợ, các cô LADIES Con cò STORKE, FLY bay Mây CLOUD, AT ở, BLUE SKY xanh trời OH! MY GOD…! Ối! Trời ơi MIND YOU. Lưu ý WORD lời nói say HERE AND THERE, đó cùng đây TRAVEL du lịch, FULL đầy, SMART khôn Cô đõn ta dịch ALONE Anh văn ENGLISH , nổi buồn SORROW Muốn yêu là WANT TO LOVE OLDMAN ông lão, bắt đầu BEGIN EAT ăn, LEARN học, LOOK nhìn EASY TO FORGET dễ quên BECAUSE là bỡi … cho nên , DUMP đần VIETNAMESE , người nước Nam NEED TO KNOW… biết nó cần lắm thay SINCE từ, BEFORE trước, NOW nay Đèn LAMP, sách BOOK, đêm NIGHT, SIT ngồi SORRY thương xót, ME tôi PLEASE DON"T LAUGH đừng cười, làm ơn FAR Xa, NEAR gọi là gần WEDDING lễ cưới, DIAMOND kim cương SO CUTE là quá dễ thương SHOPPING mua sắm, có sương FOGGY SKINNY ốm nhách, FAT: phì FIGHTING: chiến đấu, quá lỳ STUBBORN COTTON ta dịch bông gòn A WELL là giếng, đường mòn là TRAIL POEM có nghĩa làm thơ, POET Thi Sĩ nên mơ mộng nhiều. ONEWAY nghĩa nó một chiều, THE FIELD đồng ruộng, con diều là KITE. Của tôi có nghĩa là MINE, TO BITE là cắn, TO FIND kiếm tìm TO CARVE xắt mỏng, HEART tim, DRIER máy sấy, đắm chìm TO SINK. FEELING cảm giác, nghĩ THINK PRINT có nghĩa là in, DARK mờ LETTER có nghĩa lá thơ, TO LIVE là sống, đơn sơ SIMPLE. CLOCK là cái đồng hồ, CROWN vương niệm, mã mồ GRAVE. KING vua, nói nhảm TO RAVE, BRAVE can đảm, TO PAVE lát đường. SCHOOL nghĩa nó là trường, LOLLY là kẹo, còn đường SUGAR. Station trạm GARE nhà ga FISH SAUCE nước mắm, TOMATO là cá chua EVEN huề, WIN thắng, LOSE thua TURTLE là một con rùa SHARK là cá mập, CRAB cua, CLAW càng COMPLETE là được hoàn toàn FISHING câu cá, DRILL khoan, PUNCTURE dùi LEPER là một người cùi CLINIC phòng mạch, sần sùi LUMPY IN DANGER bị lâm nguy Giải phầu nhỏ là SUGERY đúng rồi NO MORE ta dịch là thôi AGAIN làm nữa, bồi hồi FRETTY Phô mai ta dịch là CHEESE CAKE là bánh ngọt, còn mì NOODLE ORANGE cam, táo APPLE JACK-FRUIT trái mít, VEGETABLE là rau CUSTARD-APPLE mãng cầu PRUNE là trái táo tàu, SOUND âm LOVELY có nghĩa dễ thương PRETTY xinh đẹp, thường thường SO SO LOTTO là chơi lô tô Nấu ăn là COOK , WASH CLOTHES giặt đồ PUSH thì có nghĩa đẩy, xô MARRIAGE đám cưới, SINGLE độc thân FOOT thì có nghĩa bàn chân FAR là xa cách, còn gần là NEAR SPOON có nghĩa cái thìa Toán trừ SUBTRACT, toán chia DIVIDE PLOUGH tức là đi cày WEEK tuần MONTH tháng, WHAT TIME mấy giờ?

2 notes · View notes

xialing-gf · 5 years ago

Text

goodbye

summary: you do all 16 things you should do after a break up in hopes of moving on from MJ

(Week 7 of my 30 week prompt challenge: breaking up)

Wc: 2148

a/n: this is based off the poem “to do list (after the breakup)” by rupi kaur, from her book “milk and honey”

read on ao3!

1. take refuge in your bed

The pro of being dumped right before spring break was that you had the entire spring break to get over being broken up with. The con of being dumped right before spring break was that you had the entirety of spring break to think about MJ and the breakup.

Lying in your bed, memories of MJ replaying through your head. You were curled up underneath a few layers of blankets, seeking refuge from the chilly New York spring that seemed to still feel like winter. This was your first break up ever and there were certain things you should do, according to your experienced friends.

They told you that laying in bed for hours on end and feeling emotions was totally normal. So, instead of doing the generous amount of homework teachers assigned, you were bundled up in your blankets, wallowing in pity, which was supposed to be a good thing. The only reasons you got up was to get water and food (mainly ice cream) or to use the bathroom.

Your parents knew that MJ broke up with you and didn’t pressure you to get out of bed or to do work; they understood that you were mourning a loss and gave you plenty of space. Unlike how one could get tired from sitting in a chair for long periods of time, one could never get tired of lying in bed. While lying in bed, you had tried to watch funny clips from talk shows and adorable videos of animals that would make you smile until your cheeks hurt, but they only temporarily distracted you from the pain.

Most of the time, you just stared at your colorful bedroom walls or mindlessly browsed through photos of you and MJ in your camera roll that you couldn’t bring yourself to delete. You knew you would have to move on eventually but right now, you decided to indulge in the sharp pain of the shards of a failed love.

2. cry. till the tears stop (this will take a few days)

In addition to lying in bed for hours on end, thinking about MJ, you also coped with your emotions by crying. Crying is generally a healthy way to cope with emotions but you had cried so much in the past few days that you were starting to get worried about your own health.

Through the multiple days of crying and lying in your bed, you discovered there were different types of crying. The first type was crying after an event just happened, the pain still fresh in your heart. It was an intense cry, tears punctuated by small hiccups as you tried to breathe through the nonstop sobs climbing up your throat. The second type was crying a few hours later, remembering that you had just been separated from the love of your life. The third type of crying was the crying that occurred through the last couple of days of spring break; the type where you would cry into your pillow or tissues during random periods of time, a different type of grief mixed with withdrawal ejected into your tears.

Finally, the crying stopped and the rivers in your eyes were controlled.

3. don’t listen to slow songs

Once school started again, you decided that you shouldn’t continue moping or else people would pester you with more questions about you and MJ. You had already gotten quite a few questions and it took all your willpower not to start crying when you answered their prodding questions.

In order to deal with all the curious people, you decided that you should try to improve your mood and that staying positive would help you deal with your emotions. So, you scrapped the playlist that you made for crying sessions that mainly had slow, sad songs and made an entirely new playlist titled with a simple smiley face.

In that playlist, you included songs that were made to boost one’s mood, such as “Don’t Stop Me Now” by Queen, and played the playlist whenever you could, usually between classes or when you were walking home.

The fast, upbeat songs did help improve your moods a few times but most of the time, it was just a temporary band-aid to help soothe the pain of breaking away from MJ.

4. delete their number from your phone even though it is memorized on your fingertips

If you had a dollar every time you picked up your phone wanting to call MJ, you would be richer than any president in the world. Fortunately, you had a lot of self-control and even though you would go to her contact and hover your finger above the “call” button, you would never press down.

During spring break, you noted the absence of MJ, even more, when you instinctively began texting her about your feelings, something you always did when you two were dating, but you always deleted your messages before sending them. So many messages were the same phrases repeated over and over again and you wanted nothing more but to let her see all the pain you were experiencing.

You knew that you were bound to accidentally call her or send a composed text so you deleted her number from your phone, even though it was etched into the walls of your heart and probably would never be forgotten.

5. don’t look at old photos

Technically, you had already broken the rule of “don’t look at old photos” during spring break but starting from now, you promised that you wouldn’t look at old photos, no matter how hard it would be. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t delete them but wait until you were ready to look at them and not feel pain upon seeing the smile of MJ’s face.

The hardest part was changing your phone’s wallpaper so it was no longer a picture of you and MJ smiling while hugging each other in front of a beautiful water fountain. Now, your wallpaper was simply a photo of the vast blue sea, filled with the uncertainty of waves and darkness.

6. find the closest ice cream shop and treat yourself to two scoops of mint chocolate chip, the min will calm your heart. you deserve the chocolate

Even though a dark cloud seemed to envelop you ever since the breakup, things were starting to get better and you felt ready to let go. You were proud of yourself for slowly getting better, even if it took longer than you expected.

This led to you deciding to treat yourself with a scoop of ice cream at your favorite ice cream shop. After school on Friday, you stopped by the ice cream shop and ordered a scoop of mint chocolate chip, your favorite flavor. You were in no rush to get home so once you got your scoop, you ate your ice cream as you watched people walk past the shop.

The sun was starting to peek out of the clouds and for the first time since MJ left you, you couldn’t help but smile.

7. buy new bed sheets

You couldn’t look at your bed sheets anymore. Every time you saw them, you were reminded of her or reminded of lying in bed after crying about her. You had these bed sheets for almost three years and while they did have some sentimental value, you wanted to get new ones. Luckily, your mother understood and you bought new bedsheets online.

They arrived within a few days and after laying them out on your bed, you felt as though you could finally get a fresh start.

8. collect all the gifts, t-shirts, and everything with their smell on it and drop it off at a donation center

When people say they did some spring cleaning, you highly doubted that their definition of spring cleaning was the same as yours. On a weekend, you finally gathered up the nerve to collect all the items MJ gave to you as gifts and anything else that had her scent on it and put it in a box labeled “Donation”. It would be a shame to see all those items thrown away so you decided to donate them all to the local Goodwill.

As you handed the box over to the person who was working at the store, she asked if these items were all yours and instead of giving a complete answer, you simply managed a smile and vaguely answered, “They don’t belong to me now.”

9. plan a trip

Getting out of New York to clear your head was another great idea suggested by your friends. They all saw that you were getting better and didn’t need to listen to your forcefully upbeat playlist to be happy so they planned a trip to Hawaii with you.

That trip was one of the best vacations of your life. It was a long weekend as teachers had some sort of events that resulted in the cancellation of three days of school after a weekend and during those five free days, you were in Hawaii with your friends, having a great time without MJ by your side.

10. perfect the art of smiling and nodding when someone brings their name up in conversation

Those two letters next to each other in any conversation was always devastating. Even though you believed you were finally over MJ, anytime somebody brought her name up, you would involuntarily tense up and unintentionally inject stiffness into your words. But, after countless conversations where her name was brought up, you finally mastered the art of smiling and holding back any pain that threatened to spill out from between your lips.

11. start a new project

The paintbrush no longer felt familiar to your fingers. At one point, you had painted whenever you could and that stopped once you reached high school. MJ did see a few of your paintings and asked a few times about it but you never fully explained why you loved painting so much. There wasn’t an exact reason you painted; perhaps it was a way for you to express yourself or maybe you just enjoyed the feeling of the brush gently dragging down a blank canvas. Either way, painting was one of your favorite hobbies and you decided to pick it up again.

Standing in front of a blank canvas propped up on your table surrounded by countless colors, you dipped your paintbrush in red and filled the empty canvas with colors.

12. whatever you do, do not call

You entertained the possibility of calling MJ again. You were in a good place and maybe you could finally talk to her without breaking down into tears. Your fingers hovered over her numbers and you gritted your teeth as you looked up at the ceiling, trying to gauge whether this was a good idea or not.

Logically, calling her would only bring you down to the place you were right after you two broke up but there was still a flicker of hope in you that maybe talking to her would help you move on. Your logical side won and you turned off your phone, setting it aside as the air you trapped in your lungs finally escaped.

13. do not beg for what does not want to stay

Begging for forgiveness was always seen as losing but if it meant you could get MJ back, you were willing to concede. However, you were held back by your friends, who helped you calm down and delete the message you were about to send to MJ, asking for her forgiveness. They were right to do so as you needed to move on and there was no fixing what was broken.

14. stop crying at some point

The rivers were back again and stronger than ever. Just when you thought you had gotten over her, something broke inside you again and tears began pouring out of your eyes as you clutched your pillow, willing for every emotion in you to just stop.

Pain was prodding at your stitched up heart, threating to slice it open again and when you opened your eyes after the last of sobs left your chest, shadows were crawling on your ceiling.

15. allow yourself to feel foolish for believing you could’ve built the rest of your life in someone else’s stomach

You still couldn’t believe that you allowed yourself to hope that you and MJ could have a future together. Whenever you were with her, you always imagined that you would be able to hold her hand ten years from now and that you two would be cuddling in an apartment, content as you could be. Reality slammed that fantasy down but looking back, love had made you foolish enough to believe that everything could work out.

16. Breathe

You take a deep breath in and a deep breath out and finally let go. Freedom.

check out my marvel page for more marvel fics! i also have an mj x reader masterlist!

Taglist: @dutchiewhotriestowrite @just-your-local-history-nerd @chickenstrips45

(Comment if you want to be tagged in my marvel fics!)

82 notes · View notes

tfrangers · 5 years ago

Text

A Glitch of Kings

Optimus has a slight problem, one he would like taken care of discreetly. Trepan understands, of course, he specializes in taking care of problems discreetly! At least, he can try.

Guess what everyone I also occasionally write pointless babble. Special thanks to @mnemoiisms whose love of Trepan is so infectious that every time I have a conversation with them I think up a million Trepan plots for any number of AUs or fics.

Contains: Optimus, Trepan, mnemosurgery, some mental health stuff, medical stuff, Trepan considering the opportunity to play with this poor lil thing, weirdness, and nightmares

----------

"I have a glitch."

Optimus stated it the way a mechlet with a hand in a sweets jar admitted guilt. It was almost endearing, Trepan had to admit- for one so willing to offer help at a moment's notice, Optimus treated seeking help like a shame, speaking to a vulnerability Trepan felt certain few were privy to. Or maybe it was just adorable, to watch him squirm in discomfort.

The entertainment value certainly couldn't be denied.

"I see." Trepan's voice was carefully modulated to put a potential patient at ease, and he hid a smug grin under a comforting, concerned smile as he pulled out the glasses and began to pour the bubbly, carbon-infused energon Optimus had bought. Bribery had it's benefits. "Is this a new development, or-?"

"Reoccurring." Optimus stated a bit too fast. "It's been a while, and I can typically…" trailing off, faceplates hot.

"... You've managed it on your own before, I surmise. So why come to me, then?" Trepan handed him the glass and watched as the ranger fiddled with it instead of drinking. "What has changed?"

Optimus stared at the energon's purplish hue. "...I can't recharge. It was never this bad, before."

"Mm, I rather thought you looked exhausted."

"When I try, it's just...false memory purges, nightmares, coming out of recharge v-violently." There was a catch to his voice, not a lie, but Trepan was keen on knowing when an omission was made. "They have me waking up every few minutes, it feels like. Or worse, I try to wake and I- I can't. When I was an apprentice, my caretaker would help, and it faded, but…” Optimus gestured vaguely, and the tail draped like a scarf around his shoulders coiled tighter by a hair. “...I’m tired. I’m tired, and I’m snapping at my team and losing track of my duties. I can’t afford this glitch, not now.”

Trepan schooled his expression. Polite smile. Graceful touch to the shoulder. Reassuring gaze and grip. "Well...I’m hardly capable of extensive work on my own -" a bold faced lie, but a useful one. "-but nightmares can be easily dismissed with even a surface connection. If you just desire some rest, I can temporarily disable your memory purges- your processor would begin them again within’ a decacycle or so.” He flexed a hand delicately at the wrist, and when the needles emerged with a soft hiss of metal Optimus flinched and his auditory fins swept down like a distressed animal’s ears. Aw. Adorable.

“And then?”

“You can come back, and I can repeat the process. If you’re willing to take that risk.” He spotted the confusion in the ranger’s eyes, and sipped his drink, letting the carbon-infused liquid rest on his glossa, feeling the bubbles in it pop, pleasantly tingly. Letting Optimus wait. “Without memory purges, the processor begins to degrade. It may take a while to notice, but extensive denial of purges could have certain effects. Mood swings, memory loss or corruption, it would be no better than denying rest as a whole.”

Optimus stared down at his still-untouched drink, looking despairing for all the world. It struck Trepan that the expression was ill-suited on his youthful face.

“Of course,” Trepan continued, “there are more extensive treatments I can attempt. Therapy. Memory training. Positive reinforcement codes to at least allow you to recharge naturally, regardless of dreams and purges. Most glitches have an underlying source that can be identified and localized, even corrected completely, given some effort.” Now that got the ranger’s attention.

“....Could you? No, would you?”

“This is not a service that would have come cheap, Optimus. You would have to allow me into your mind, repeatedly.” He tapped the long needles on the table, drumming against the metal surface with a distinctive ring. Delicate as they looked, they were stronger than nearly any other portion of his body, and when he dragged them along the surface it screeched, pitched and sharp. The vibrations merely made his hand tingle. Optimus cringed like he was pained. “I could promise client confidentiality to a point, but there is always a risk with these things. It almost certainly would be unpleasant, revealing...have you even had any softwork done before, beyond updates?”

“No.” Optimus admitted.

Trepan looked at the bottle. One of several the ranger had bought to him- sometimes in exchange for information, or simply out of politeness. He had it on good authority that the mecha bought a gift to everyone he visited, Trepan simply knew he had more specific tastes than most. “I will treat you, whichever way you desire.” Trepan sighed. “You will simply have to owe me.”

“I have shanix-”

“There’s a war going on, and we are all trapped on a planet with no communications, no shipments going in or out, and no use for shanix. I’ll just find some task for you. Maybe you can round up your team and repair my home the next time a storm crashes through, or some ‘con decides he doesn’t like me living so close to their territory.” Waving a hand as if to dismiss the worry of payment. “It would only be fair, since any sort of operation not only jeopardizes you...but myself, as well. Especially with no trained team to assist.” He put a hand on Optimus’ shoulder again- this time, the one with the needles, and watched as Optimus went so still he held his breath. “Nightmares can be contagious in my line of work, you understand.”

Optimus nodded very slowly, very carefully, all too aware of thin needles against his thick fur. He didn’t exhale until Trepan released his shoulder and moved away, turning to hide his smug grin.

“Think about it. Mnemosurgery is not something you should go into lightly.”

“I...I will.” Optimus couldn’t say polite goodbyes and gather himself up to leave fast enough, after that. Nervousness practically bled off of him, like he’d been doused in it. Good, Trepan figured. Nervous people made silly choices, and silly choices made people desperate for relief. It wasn’t that he wanted to risk his own security by compromising the ranger, but...he was a curious one.

And Trepan was growing rapidly bored of probing the brains of criminals and warriors. Someone curious would do.

----------

Optimus, as it was, could not stand more than one more sleepless night. So it was that Trepan cleaned up the operating room he’d set aside, and found Optimus leaning back on the slab. Stiff and still and clearly already raw nerves even with none exposed, yet. “You’re allowed to breath, Optimus. All procedures have their risks, but I assure you, I’ve done this many times before. You will be safe.”

“Mm.” Optimus barely nodded, staring up at where sunlight filtered in through the mirrored window directly above.

“And if anything does go wrong, I have your medic’s frequency.”

It made Optimus flinch, which was a little funny. He really did look exhausted, optics dim and unfocused and the glossiness of his plating and fur dulled some. He would perk right back with some proper, uninterrupted recharge of course. He would thank Trepan properly, then.

“Now, I’m going to begin.” Trepan took his place at the head of the slab, looking down at Optimus upside-down from each other’s viewpoint, offering his sweetest smile, antennae flicking out wide behind him. “You will be conscious and aware for the duration of the operation, though you may experience the memory purges firsthand. I will be paralyzing your greater motor functions, to ensure you don’t hurt yourself, or hurt me, by trying to move while I am injecting.” He’d gone over this three times already, but given how numbly Optimus had followed his instructions it never truly hurt to repeat one’s self. “Once I inject, it will be several minutes before I can maintain a connection, but I will inform you before I begin. If you want me to stop at any point, just say so. Are you ready?”

“Yes.” Optimus tried not to look at Trepan, instead focusing back on the light. Perfectly natural to be nervous. Mnemosurgery got such a terrible reputation, these days- Trepan remembered when bots were happy, eager to come to his slab, have their perceptions tweaked or have bad days obliterated entirely, have addictions cleared up in an hour or fears washed away without a trace. He rather missed that.

“You will feel the initial injection- it will hurt, but only for a nanoklik.” Trepan reassured, smoothing down the fur of Optimus’ shoulder with one hand as the other drifted, needles out, to the side of his helm. “I am going to inject directly behind your audial. Take in a deep vent-” Optimus obeyed. And his eyes went wide as it escaped him in the start of a yell that barely wound up a gasp. It had hurt. Like a hot knife jabbed into his helm, searing and driving and then before he could really process it or react...it was just gone. Like he hadn’t even felt any pain, not even a ghost of it remaining.

Instead, just the deeply disorienting sensation of feeling something inside his helm.

“There we are...do you feel any pain or discomfort?” Trepan asked, and it took Optimus a second to find his voice again, feeling quiet.

“No.” He swallowed hard. “That was fast.”

“Mm, yes, it’s a handy tool to use. I wouldn’t wish my patients to suffer needlessly.” Trepan sounded distracted, and Optimus though absently that the instant evaporation of pain was different from when the medics treated him, different from when Red Alert connected for pain relief coding, or from the slow build of numbness from an injection or patch. Trepan answered the question he didn’t ask, and Optimus was suddenly aware of the presence not just in his skull, but in his mind. “You are still feeling pain, actually. A medic’s pain management eliminates the sensation, or helps to deaden the sensors themselves- I’m simply ensuring your processor registers it as nonthreatening.”

“Oh.” Optimus’ mouth felt dry.

“So, useful in a different way. My capacity to manipulate the sensation would not, say, prevent your frame from going into shock from an overload of pain, as true numbing would. But it has it’s own benefits...for one, you can still feel me.” Something about the single needle in his helm adjusted and Optimus felt the room spin with a sudden rush of dizziness before it passed. “I know, it’s very disorienting. But it lets me know if I’ve hit anything vital, or run into unexpected physical barriers. After all, the sensations are still there, they are just being...interpreted differently.”

Optimus wondered for a moment on what interpreted differently really meant, and Trepan chuckled. “Your sensory network registers everything as frequencies, as data and energy. To someone who knows how to read those frequencies, there is very little difference between pain-” A brief, dull ache bloomed in the back of his head, before vanishing. A false-feeling. “-and everything else.” Everything else was warmth, pleasure, a bloom of heat that seeped down Optimus’ spinal column and coiled in his chest, then vanished. Optimus was rapidly realizing exactly why mnemosurgery was rare. And feared.

“Don’t forget expensive. Very few mechanisms have the capacity to become mnemosurgeons.” Trepan expanded. Something about his presence in Optimus’ mind reassured him that he was honestly not offended in the slightest. Amused, yes, but not offended. “Our processors have a natural mutation, not unlike those found in empaths. The capacity to understand another mechanism’s processor, to process that information faster than they can. I was very fortunate- I tested positive for such a beneficial mutation only weeks before I would have been assigned to a mining colony.”

Optimus could scarcely imagine Trepan as anything other than what he was, now. The concept of him mining out some other dirtworld like this one here, or pulling apart asteroids in a distant field of stars…

“Hardly suiting, isn’t it? I would not have lasted.” Trepan laughed. “You are doing very well...your firewalls have accepted my presence. I am ready to begin.” Optimus’ eyes flicked up to him, before going back to the light. He hadn’t bothered to turn off his capacity for vocalization, yet still he was just...too nervous to speak aloud. Understandable, given that five inches of metal had been jammed into the joint of his helm, behind his audial, and was currently resting neatly against his processor. Good thing Optimus could simply think, and it was. “You’re going to be dizzy, or even nauseous, but I won’t let you purge your tanks. It’d be a pain to clean up.”

Even scared and vulnerable, Optimus smiled weakly and amusement crept through him. He rather liked this mental image Optimus had of him- pretty and delicate and refined but oh-so-dangerous, risky. Constantly fluctuating between trust and wariness. Something deeper, a memory, a lesson learned. Something to investigate later, Trepan filed that away in his own memory banks.

True enough, Optimus’ optics fluttered shut, and his world twisted and turned and he could hear Trepan’s voice still, and knew that his body was limp and motionless, but he also felt himself stirring, moving, turning over- he was in Trepan’s suite, no, he was in his own berthroom, on the soft too-large mattress and in the cool, dark air of night, and he was trying to fall asleep.

Oh. This was the memory of several nights ago.

“It is.” Trepan’s voice was heard and not-heard. It was a little unsettling. “Yes, well, this is why those seeking more intensive treatments may prefer to be unconscious.”

It was a little nauseating. Like being spun in circles or a grounder’s first time in microgravity.

“Now, lets see these pesky nightmares, shall we?” Things adjusted. It grew darker. Optimus tried to retreat in his own motionless mind. “Optimus…there is no shame in having a glitch. Particularly one so benign as false memory purges, or terrors. And even if there were, I am not here to judge, only to assist you.” Trepan’s voice was like a warm, syrupy sensation more than sound anymore. Like hot oil applications. “This is just a memory of a dream. I will be right here if you need things to stop.” Reassuring.

A touch of tenderness and Optimus opened his mind willingly. It was downright delightful. Trepan could have been deep within’ his soul in a moment if he’d wanted, could have broken through and busted down every barrier in the way with but a thought, but why do that when it was so much more pleasant to have someone open the door and hold it for you? Optimus was so wary but wanted to trust so badly...it would have broken Trepan’s spark if he were a sentimental mechanism.

Which he wasn’t. So instead it amused him.

Memory Purges and Dreams were always difficult to sort through, even if you knew what you were doing, even with ages of skills and talents behind him. They were disorganized, messy, scraps of data that needed to be cleaned up or that spawned their own self-perpetuating loops. Glitches were common, even if they often were self-repaired in a matter of a day or two- so the ones that lasted were always at the very least interesting, and often times particularly nasty or invasive.

But Trepan had peered inside of so many minds, inside of rebels and anarchists, picked through the thoughts of common murderers and high-class lords with ‘eclectic’ tastes alike and found little different and little shocking between them. He eased into the files of dreams, ready for corrupted memories or old traumas turned into dataloops, fantasies or fears.

Instead.

Things stopped making sense for a few frantic seconds, and it was a few seconds too long. Trepan was, terrifyingly to himself, just about out of control of the situation when the memories flooded Optimus’ senses, and spilled over into him like so much energon from an opened cube.

So many voices they were crying out cheering laughing sounds of victory singing singing singing singing reverent voices ringing out in discordant joy marching and dancing and hands thrown into the air clutching crushed crystal petals of cybertronian flowers that were released and tossed into sparkling rainbow clouds of glass crunching underfoot

Singing singing singing and cheering and mechanisms faceless and infinite in a sea of color reaching out to touch to feel to stroke over armor reverently and warmly the song muffled and too loud all at once the lyrics unrecognizable but somehow still known and verse after verse after verse repeating-

Song chant droning and matching his sparkbeat filling his head as he moves through the crowd NO as the crowd pushes him along NO as he is pulled along by the spark PLEASE NO and the singing is only getting louder echoing from buildings and cliffs and off panes of crystal towering overhead the likes of which have long since been mined to nothing on Cybertron I DON’T WANT TO SEE THIS AGAIN

Trepan was withdrawing before he could even think about it. Frantically untangling himself from the thoughts that were too loud to be from Optimus’ tempered, pleasant mind.

Urging him forwards forwards forwards footsteps heavy and slow and reluctant and on the throne before him the figure is slumped and limp and pierced through with thirteen blades of light NO NO NO and were it not for the piercing fear-white glow of their eyes they could be dead for all the energon I DON’T WANT TO SEE and they are not huge or grand or glorious and their golden armor is stained with sickly purple-pink and their biolights glow white-hot where they’re not bubbling energon and NO and someone else is here. Not Optimus, whose mind is eerily quiet. Not Trepan, who can’t help but see even when it only takes microseconds to break the connection. Someone is begging and fearful and Trepan knows foreign, invasive code when he feels it.

And this is not some invasive virus, this isn’t some malicious code, or someone else’s mnemosurgical softwork come round on it’s host.

He breaks the connection cold and pulls his hand from Optimus’ helm fast and violently, and they both scream. Trepan sharp and short, Optimus wailing like a wounded animal for a terrible moment. Trepan has had connections broken violently before- it’s always unpleasant. Like a shock of superchilled saltwater across the body and mind. He can’t even be angry when Optimus flails for a moment, only to half-roll and purge his tanks off the side of the slab. He’d retch up too, if he didn’t force his lips shut and to forcibly swallow anything threatening to rise to his mouth.

“You.” He turns on Optimus after a moment to vent heavily, and the ranger looks at him with the startled confusion of a mechanisms freshly woken from recharge. “IDIOT.” Thankfully, the nearest thing is a thin, light datapad, so it doesn’t do much damage when he throws it at Optimus with all the force his slender frame can muster. Optimus barely managed to shield his face with his arm, regardless.

"I-!"

Trepan doesn't give him a moment to try to argue or apologize or say anything, really. "You send me in blind, unknowing, unprepared-" He throws a box of sanitizing wipes, this time, and Optimus rolls off the far side of the slab to take cover. Trepan feels raw. Like his armor has been stripped off. He'll be reeling for days and he knows it. "-you knew! You've no, no glitch, no errors, you idiot!"

"I'm sorry!" Optimus peers from his hiding place, wary, and only just ducks in time to avoid another box of supplies. "I thought it wouldn't matter!"

"That you're a frelling prophet?! That you're Primus-touched?!" Trepan will be embarrassed about how undignified he's being later. Once the hysterics fade. "What kind of prime goes off to do a ranger's duty-?!"

"I'm not a prime!" Optimus yells, and there's a particular note of desperation in it that makes Trepan go quiet, save for the too-loud-too-fast wheezing of his vents. His hand is numb, he realizes, needles retracted and a tingling that has crept up his arm nearly to his shoulder.

It echoes a ghost of a sensation in his processor. He shudders to think of if he'd stayed connected without proper guards in place. He heard stories, colleagues who were burned out of others' minds.

"I'm not a prime." Optimus says again, softer. Wary as he peers out again, clutching the edge of the slab. "I'm not. I won't be."

"You don't get to choose that sort of thing, you fool." Trepan spits the words.

"The Autobots don't engage in functionism like that. Cybertron has changed." A weak argument.

"Not that much, it hasn't." Trepan stalks towards the slab, mindful of the puddle of soured energon and organic foodstuffs, glaring down at Optimus who crouches still. It's almost funny, in a vastly different way than Optimus' tentative nerves had been at first.

A Primus-touched priest, crouching fearfully before a lowly criminal. Hilarious.

"No-one in their sane mind would have allowed this." Trepan bares his teeth in a grimace, but now that he can think again, the drowning music fading from his mind quick, he is starting to plan, as is his nature. To tease new thoughts. "You said you apprenticed at the archives."

"I was not lying." Optimus sounds guilty and isn't that just pathetic? Someone who should have spent their life in unfairly blissful comfort and praise looking down at the floor like a scolded student. "I served my apprenticeship under Alpha Trion."

The pieces were coming together. "Trion Prime. A little priest in training, then? Too good or too valuable to be trained at the temples?"

"...It wasn't like that. There's no more primes."

"That's molten slag and you know it. I don't care if they abdicated their power and cracked the matrices. High Lords and Alphas are nothing but primes under a fresh coat of paint and you should be one of them! You should be sitting on a throne, having your pedes kissed." It feels good to be mean, now. To hiss the words that make Optimus only cringe and hunker down further. "What happened? Trion decide you weren't up to task? Did the priests decide you couldn't cut it?"

"I said it wasn't like that. No-one knew."

"...no one knew. No one knew a blessed one was wandering amongst them."

"Trion helped me to hide."

Trepan's processor was spinning with possibilities and uncertainties. So he straightened up, took a deep vent in...and turned, stalking from the room. "Clean up the mess you've made. Then we are going to sit, and finish the bottle of energon, and you will explain to me everything that has happened."

He didn't bother to look back to see if Optimus was complying, knowing he would.

Change of plans, then.

What in all the facets of the pit did you do with a secret like that in your hands?

#my writing #optimus #trepan #and the terrible horrible no good very bad day

42 notes · View notes

randomoranges · 5 years ago

Text

amnesia part 155

Following his sister’s advice, Étienne tried to determine which type of pet he’d prefer. Each one had its own set of pros and cons; a cat would be nice, quiet and wouldn’t require as much of his attention, or at least, he wouldn’t necessarily have to let it out for walks, but that was where he leaned more towards a dog. He felt that having a dog would push him to get out of his apartment and get some fresh air. He knew of his tendencies and feared that he would revert back to locking himself up in his apartment and so figured a dog would be a better option. It would also get him to exercise and that at the very least would help his leg.

However, before he went along with this grand idea of his, he did check in with Dre. Labonté to make sure he wasn’t getting in over his head. She encouraged him to go for it and told him it was actually something she wanted to run by him, over their next session and Étienne felt better about the idea. She suggested he think about what type of dog he wanted, including the age, and to read up on the breeds before settling. She gave him a list of various animal shelters around where he lived, including other resources that may be of help and Étienne found his first few days back to be quite busy.

Eventually, after about a week or so, he had gathered enough information, had made his selection, and had been put in contact through one of the resources Dre. Labonté had given him – a local shelter that did outreach programs with dogs and such. The only problem was that they were out of the city and so, Étienne had called up Emma to ask if she wanted to go on a road trip with him to potentially meet his future dog.

Emma had nearly lost it, very excited at the prospect of him getting a dog and they agreed to go on Saturday, once Étienne made sure that the shelter they were going to was all right with that. Étienne had at least exchanged more than a dozen emails and phone calls with them, had done as many background checks on them as possible, had been sent videos and photos and he had agreed that he was only going to see the dogs. Nothing more.

To be honest, he was a little nervous. This felt like a big step and he was afraid he would mess it up or that something would go wrong. Emma reassured him that he didn’t need to commit right away and that he didn’t have to settle if it didn’t feel right. He could always keep looking.

The person whom Étienne had been in contact with, Léo, a tall fellow with an easy smile who immediately put Étienne at ease greeted them at the door when they arrived. Once the three of them had exchanged pleasantries, he led them to the back area of the property, to a large playpen of sorts, where the dogs Étienne was interested in were.

There were three in total, each different in shape, size, breed, age, and Étienne didn’t know where to look first.

“Take all the time you need. You can enter the pen if you want and play with them.” Léo told them both.

Étienne looked at Emma who nodded and Étienne let himself in. The dogs came up to him to greet him and Étienne did his best to crouch down to pet them. There was a German shepherd, a golden retriever and a golden-doodle. He’d decided on a bigger dog, since he preferred those over smaller ones and had loved the videos Léo had sent him. However, even though the dogs seemed very social and well-behaved, he didn’t feel a deeper connection with these three.

“Is breed important to you?” Léo asked him after observing for a while.

“Not really – I mean, so long as it’s not inbred or has some health problems due to its breed, I’m fine with whatever, why?”

“I might have something else to show you. I have a litter of Labsky’s – a few weeks old, if you’d like to see them?”

Emma and Étienne exchanged a look.

“Labrador – Siberian husky mix.” He explained with a laugh, “You’d have to come back in a few weeks, since they’re still little, but, if you’re interested I could put one aside for you.”

Étienne nodded, figuring he had nothing to lose and followed Léo to the inside of the main house on the property. “These are actually my family dogs, but you two seem like good people and I still have a few puppies that haven’t been claimed,” Étienne didn’t know how he felt about that but he nodded and once his shoes were removed, he followed Léo to his living room.

There, they found the two parents and six puppies in various different colours. The puppies trotted up to Léo who picked one up and caressed it, before putting it back down, “So far, the three lighter ones have been reserved and my partner and I are thinking of keeping one to help us with our work, but we haven’t chosen yet, so whichever one you want of the other three can be yours. We have all official documents as well as paperwork you may want to look over, if you have any questions.”

Again, Étienne nodded. Léo stepped back and let them be for a while, giving them space to interact with the dogs.

“God, they’re all so cute. I might just adopt them all,” Emma said as she crouched down low to pet a mixed colour one. The puppy licked her hand and Emma cooed.

Étienne meanwhile, spotted a fully black one who suddenly took interest in him and came to investigate. Étienne chuckled and rubbed her belly under the watchful eye of its parents. He found a nearby toy and watched with amusement as the puppy tried to jump on the toy and tripped on itself, but it then righted itself up, tail wagging, and chased after the toy again. It was the actual cutest thing Étienne had ever seen.

“Emma,” Étienne started and Emma walked over to him, puppy in arm, “I think I’m in love,” He murmured. She looked over his shoulder to see the puppy he had selected and couldn’t help but smile. She called back Léo over to let him know.

“You’re actually the first person who’s shown an immediate interest in her.” He said with a laugh, “I was starting to think she’d be our leftover, but I’m glad. However, I must let you know, Labsky’s are extremely intelligent and social dogs. They have a lot of energy, so if you’re away for work, or whatever often, she will get lonely.”

“Oh, well, that won’t be a problem,” Étienne said with a small smile, “I currently find myself with a lot of free time, and my work was often done from home, so she’ll have me around.”

Léo seemed content with the answer and Étienne found himself to be relieved. They went over a few more details and logistics and Léo promised to send him updates on his puppy between now and the pickup, four weeks from now. If anything, it gave him a lot of time to prepare and – find a name. Emma then helped Étienne back in his shoes and after one last goodbye (and a hug for the puppy and a few photos), they headed back into the city.

“Can’t believe that just happened,” Étienne murmured, looking at the photos on his phone.

PREVIOUS: CLIV

CURRENT: CLV

NEXT: CLVI

#pc: montreal #pc: ottawa #étienne maisonneuve #emma dubois #emma whatshername #au #ficlet #mercury the dog #amnesia au #introducing mercury the dog #iiiiiiit's mercury

4 notes · View notes

chaoticneutralwriter · 6 years ago

Text

Distance and the Heart

You were convinced that you’ll be fine on your own while he’s gone. After all, all you wanted to do was sit at home and watch BTS videos all day. Instead, you go on a ‘date’, break someone’s nose and dig an even deeper ‘Oh-shit-I-think-I-might-like-my-guardian-demon’ hole for yourself.

You should never be let outside again.

guardian demon!Jimin x reader

genre: slice of life, fluff, slow-burn, supernatural, comedy

word count: 8.1k (I DID NOT MEAN FOR THIS TO HAPPEN)

Related works: Unorthodox | Genuine | 3AM Demon | The Grinch Who Stole New Year

A/N: well this got long....LOL UMM Hope you enjoy it! There’s more plot! And be aware of douchey guys! :DD

“You’re going where now?”

“Think of it as a ‘performance evaluation’ meeting; you know, the kind you humans have with your boss to discuss how well or not you’ve been doing your job.” He replies back, adjusting the cuffs on his shirt as he stands before your full-length mirror. You try your hardest not to stare at him from your seat by your desk, in the middle of working on some assignments just to get ahead of yourself for the week, but you find your concentration wavering when your mind clearly found something way more interesting to study.

Jimin is currently dressed in an all black ensemble; a black button down that’s tucked into his black slacks, allowing you the chance to see just how perfectly they hug his thighs and ahem ass. His silvery hair is immaculately coiffed as per usual and as he turns to shrug on the black blazer jacket, embroidered with intricate silver linings, you find yourself very distressed in your seat because your mind is telling you no but your body…. your body is saying hell yes.

You whip your gaze away, embarrassed by your own thoughts and you hope that your guardian demon hasn’t noticed. Damn him for looking so good.

“I’ll try to keep the visit short, but don’t be surprised if you don’t see me for a few days.” Jimin makes the final adjustments to his look, brushing away strands of hair that fall out of place over his forehead before turning to fix you with a stare.

“Don’t worry, take all the time you need.” You encourage, hoping to feign indifference of his departure. It seems to not slip past him as Jimin’s plush lips curl into that damning smirk and to add more insult to injury, he languidly saunters over to you, instantly putting you on high alert.

“Oh cherub, don’t you know I worry that you’ll probably die from missing me so much?” He singsongs and you blanch in response. “But just so you know, I’m only one call away; hell is completely toll free.”

He removes his hand previously stuffed into his pocket to pat you on the head mockingly to which you swat at it before it even makes contact with a single strand of hair. You kiss your teeth, annoyed but he just throws his head back and laughs at you. You curse again because as much as you’re irritated, the tinkling sound never fails to make your heart race.

“Just go already; aren’t you going to be late or something?” You feebly mumble, turning back to stubbornly burn a hole into your laptop screen. You hear a muffled snort; some shuffling and you finally think you’ve got your deserved peace from this nuisance but then—

“No kiss goodbye?”

On reflex, you hurl your seat cushion at his general direction, only for it to crash against your full length mirror noisily (you wince as little knick knacks nearby topples over from the force), the last remnants of his cackling fading into the air and the only thing you can do is huff out loudly, face blazing. But what you find the most frustrating thing however is that you’re not sure if it’s from anger or from the thought of imagining kissing said demon.

After about three hours, you shut off your laptop and place your pencil down to heave a big stretch with your arms high above your head. You wince at the kinks and pops of your joints but you’re satisfied with your finished work. Now you can relax and laze around all you want, maybe even catch up on a couple of RUN BTS episodes that you’ve sadly missed due to being so busy.

“Hey! Y/N, wanna check out this cafe with me?”

Or not…

Jaehee’s voice calls out to your from her place by your door, phone in hand to showcase an instagram profile of said cafe she mentioned. You’re a bit hesitant to be honest, feeling like your energy is all spent from working on school stuff that all you wanted to do now was to essentially become a human rock. Jaehee picks up on it, having known you for a while but she must be desperate to get out because she persists.

“C’mon Y/N! It’s still early and a Saturday plus I know you’re not working tomorrow either!”

You’re caught in between the pros and cons of staying home or going out because although you’re definitely not opposed to going to a cute little cafe to maybe reward yourself with an iced coffee or latte, you definitely dread the thought of the process to getting yourself ready to look presentable to the world when you’re completely comfortable in your PJs. Your indecision shows and like a bloodhound, Jaehee hones in on it and with a last ditch effort of convincing you, she throws in some puppy-dog eyes and a pout.

“Please? I really wanna check this place out with you.”

The loud sigh you let out is enough to have a smile break out widely on her face, needing no words to know that you’ve given in. With reluctance, you drag yourself up out of your chair to get changed.

Guess BTS will have to wait a little longer.

Admittedly the cafe is pretty cute and this iced latte is great so you find the discomfort of being dragged out of the house disappearing. You’re having a good time, laughing at a work story Jaehee is telling you as you’re munching on some fancy looking pastries that should’ve been too good-looking to eat (but that sentiment quickly went away because Jaehee took too long taking photos of it from every angle).

There’s a lull in conversation as Jaehee takes the time to type something out on her phone, you paying no mind as your attention is more on getting the last of this cheesecake in front you.

“So Jason; you remember him right? He’s gonna stop by with a friend of his who just moved here to the city. Do you mind if they join us?”

You’re caught like a deer in headlights, mouthful of delicious desserts. Half of you find that there’s no reason they shouldn’t be allowed but the other half is cringing at the thought of having to interact with people whom you know very little about (Jason has only been a recent thing in Jaehee’s life and from what little times you’ve hung out with him and Jaehee together, you still can’t quite figure out if he’s worth investing in before he’s replaced).

Rationality wins out eventually, finding yourself no real good reason to say no so you bite the bullet. “Sure, I guess?"

When you’re halfway through your latte, Jaehee’s phone vibrates and she picks up.

“Hello?…. Oh you’re here? We’re just inside, come in!” She hangs up promptly with a smile and before you can ask or wonder more on it, the door opens and in walks two guys. You easily recognize one of them as being the one that Jaehee took to the Christmas party as a date so by process of elimination, the other is the friend from out of town.

He’s quite plain looking; a mop of dark hair and with no striking feature catching your eye other than the fact that he seems quite tall and lanky (but the same can be said about everyone you basically meet). The duo approaches just as Jaehee waves them over, her date going in for a hug to which your friend reciprocates while his friend simply smiles politely on the side.

“Jason! Glad you could make it, and you must be Mike right?”

Mike smiles widely and offers a handshake for her, to which Jaehee takes naturally.

“Yeah, nice to finally meet you.”

“And this is my friend and roommate Y/N.”

You smile, taking Mike’s outstretched hand to give a shake as well as giving a simple greeting. Conversations are taken over by Jaehee for a bit before you all collectively decide to leave and walk along the street where the cafe is located. The weather is nice, the air slightly crisp but the real cold was more of something to worry about once the sun goes down.

You file out of the shop and begin your walk, Jaehee and Jason naturally pairing up to chat, which left you with Mike trailing after them from behind. Oh joy….

Your heart is beating a little too hard in your chest for your liking, your small bouts of social anxiety creeping in at now being put in a position to make small talk with a total stranger, a skill you haven’t quite got the hang of in all of your twenty-some odd years of being alive.

“This seems like a really nice place to hang out with your friends huh?” Luckily, Mike’s the first to strike up conversations with you. Pressure relieved, you plaster on a smile.

“Yeah, most of the cafes and popular eating spots are here….”

And that’s pretty much all you get out. You’re starting to get sweaty.

“What would you recommend here?” Mike persists, seemingly not bothered by what you feel is a conversation struggling to continue every other sentence. He still has a smile on his face which makes his otherwise ordinary features appear more attractive, and coupled by his earnestness to keep talking to you, the friendliness and outgoing characteristics of him becomes more apparent. You find yourself impressed by his efforts of keeping the awkwardness at bay.

“Uh, I’ve only tried a few places. So far pretty good in my opinion.”

“So the cafe today was good then? Because what you were eating back there looks really delicious.”

“Yeah, I guess. The cheesecake is all right.”

It pretty much continues with Mike obviously being the more animated out of the two you as he pretty much chats enough for you both. You find out he’s moved here to attend the local university, the same one Jason goes to and that’s how they became friends and that he’s only been here for a little over two weeks. You nod along, offering comments here and there and the last remains of heart palpitations are thankfully gone.

“What’s Tsujiro?” Mike suddenly asks as his gaze wanders to a dessert place you’re coming up on. You pause, can’t help but think how the shop name as well known as Tsujiro could slip under someone’s radar at this point. However, you push it aside because who are you judge; maybe he came from a smaller city or town?

“Oh, uh, it’s a Japanese dessert place; they mainly sell soft serve green tea ice cream in like, tall cups or small ones with other toppings and stuff.”

“Oh wow, I might actually want to try one out. Is it good?” He turns to you, bright eyed and you give a shrug and a wry smile.

“It’s all right.” You say, voice cracking near the end from being unsure. Sure you liked it, but honestly found it too pricey for your taste.

You don’t tell Mike that though (who are you to stop him from wanting to try it out; who knows, maybe he’ll like it).

It seems good enough for him because he makes a beeline into the shop and you call out to Jaehee and Jason to wait up. No sooner, Mike comes out and everyone comments on his chosen concoction from the store; a tall cup of what appears to be green tea smoothie, topped with more green soft serve, a cube of cheesecake (?), sprinkled with mochi and other sweet looking treats. It’s pretty to look at, but the price he tells you were anything but (you’re not surprised).

Your group walks around a bit more until spontaneously deciding the grab dinner once Mike finishes up with his dessert (“not as good as it looked,” he chuckles disappointingly).

The restaurant you decide to eat at however was thankfully. You all make good talk with one another, Jaehee, being the ever better socialite than you, does a good job at covering for you both (you have a sneaking suspicion it’s the alcohol you’ve all ordered with your meal). You feel like you’ve filled your quota of talks and keeping up with pleasantries in the face of strangers, though that doesn’t stop Mike from pulling you into conversations every now and then. You throw in a comment or two to suffice.

Dinner wraps up nicely, the bill is split and you all get ready to leave: Jason with Mike and Jaehee with you. You think you’re in the clear, the slight alcohol enhancing the excited buzz you’re feeling about heading home until Mike calls out to you suddenly at what should’ve been the final exchanges of goodbyes.

“Hey Y/N, is it okay if I have your number? Would be cool to see you again.”

You blink, unsure of how to respond. You seldom give your number out to people you’ve only just met, unless the circumstances are called for (i.e. business related, appointment based, or if it’s long overdue if you keep seeing the person). Snobby or uptight aren’t words you would describe yourself with this, but perhaps a combination of pessimistic and realistic is more appropriate; you’ve long made peace with the fact that at this stage of your life, the chances of acquiring any more life-long friends is zero to none. Nine times out of ten, this will be just another number you’ll have to clear out.

At the nudge of Jaehee’s shoulder, you’re knocked out of your stupor and the realization that you had probably been vacantly staring at him settles as an embarrassed blush on your cheeks.

“O-Oh, uh, you have iMessenger? That’s better to get in touch with me.” You awkwardly reach for your phone to pull up the app and Mike laughs good-naturedly, nodding. You exchange contacts and finally, with a breath of relief, you part ways. Not a moment sooner when you had turned the block to the direction of your house did Jaehee pounce on you.

“So? What do you think of him?” She asks, trying to be on the sly with things but it’s obvious how eager she is to hear.

“Think of who?”

“Mike! Jason’s friend.”

“What about him?” You’re not seeing the significance of the question nor the person in question.

“You know… do you think he's nice? Cool? …. Cute?”

You nearly give yourself whiplash at Jaehee’s choice of questions, turning your gaze onto her expectant ones. You feel your face contort itself into a sort of half grimace and look of incredulity.

“I only just met him? Like he’s nice, I guess…. Really friendly to people he just met— I don’t know.”

Jaehee seems to deflate at your lukewarm response. “Really? That’s it?”

“…. Yeah? Why?”

She sighs, hand tugging to link arms with you. “Never mind.”

The rest of the walk home you’re confused but you’re too tired to really think too much on it at this point. So much so that once you’re in the house, your night routine all blurs together and you immediately fall asleep as soon as your head touches pillow.

The next morning, you wake up with a groan, stretching your limbs but not quite ready to get up out of your cocoon of blankets just yet. You settle by grabbing your phone to mindlessly scroll through your social media, as one does when they’re intent to make Sunday their designated lazy day. You’re surprised to see a notification for your iMessenger, a face you’re not used to seeing. It takes a moment for it to register as the guy you met yesterday, Mike.

“Did you two get home alright?” was his written message in the chat box, sent at a time you knew you’d been passed out in the sleep. You do him the courtesy to text back with an apology on the delayed response and that yes, you and Jaehee did make it home safely.

You go on to open up your other apps, scrolling through your feed, which helps you wake yourself up, more often than not finding BTS content related things. You stop on a video clip compilation of Jimin laughing till he disappears out of frame and it makes you grin. How can someone so cute exist? You hit the ‘like’ button and as you proceed to scroll more, your thoughts shift to the next thing related to said idol.

Speaking of, you wonder if your demon guardian Jimin-lookalike is back.

You swivel your head as best you could but find not so much as whiff of the usual lavender and vanilla scent that never fails to follow him.

Huh….

You get out of bed eventually, making your way to the kitchen to fix yourself breakfast and find that the house is…uncharacteristically quiet.

No, it’s always been this quiet. You correct yourself, because it’s true…or was true. Before….

You huff a sigh, exasperated. Get your thoughts straight girl.

You continue with your day, making up for the lazing around you missed. Every once in a while, your phone pings with a notification; another sent message by Mike. The conversation was nothing of interest, just more casual talks of what you’re doing and going off on that before the topic is changed, most often by Mike once you’ve ran out of things to say.

It goes on like that for a couple more days. He messages first always, and you almost dutifully answer back out of courtesy. He truly does seem like a nice guy, polite and easy-going but as much as your conversations with him were good (at a least you think? There were times you’ve haven’t answered for days because you were being swamped with work and school but that still doesn’t deter him), they were still very surface level; not having gone past being ‘good acquaintances’…or more like ‘one-sided good acquaintances’ because you think you know more about him than he does you.

However, as the days drag on, you find your interest in Mike fading altogether as more other pressing thoughts start to occupy your mind, creeping in and growing like mold.

Where is your guardian demon?

Jimin did say the meeting might take more than a few days but it’s almost been more than a week since he’d left. Do meetings in hell usually take this long? More so, why hasn’t the bastard texted you at all? He’s supposed to be your guardian and right now he’s technically neglecting his end of the contract.

Wait, what are you saying?

You flail your limbs in frustration, lying in bed in the middle of the night. You had told yourself that you were going to be a decent human being and go to sleep at normal people time because you’re absolutely beat from the week’s work but instead of drifting off like you thought you would, you ended up reflecting back on the events and had come full circle to the one being who should’ve been your least concerned.

Even when he’s not physically there, he still manages to wiggle his way into your thoughts. Unbelievable.

You drift off eventually, stubbornly muting any train of thoughts that somehow always seem to lead back to him. You wake up a little on the groggy side, as if you haven’t slept at all but it’s the weekend again so you’re not bothered in rushing to get up. Grabbing your phone, you tap it awake to find a message notification.

Your heart races for a quick second before impassively dropping once your foggy mind has registered the name; it’s Mike. No devil…or demon to be spoken of here. The message preview looks like a good morning text and the beginnings of asking what are you up to and you don’t quite make it that far before brushing it away from the screen; you’ll answer later.

You mosey along with your day contently, taking time to eating breakfast then getting lost on Youtube (to which you, without fail, ended up watching a bunch of BTS related videos from Vlives to Run episodes to Bangtan Bombs) and even being productive like getting ahead of your studies (though you literally spent a little under fifteen minutes on it but hey, progress is progress).

It’s around late evening when Jaehee comes knocking on your door, phone in hand once again and a yet another proposition.

“Hey, wanna head out for dinner with me, Jason and Mike tonight?”

You blink back at her from your nest of pillows and blankets much like an owl, not giving her an immediate response. She stares right back at you and it would seem like you two were having a silent conversation but you have a sneaking feeling that Jaehee can already see your brain working through all the pros and cons of saying yes or no like you’re Doctor Strange seeing all the possible alternative universes in which to defeat Thanos.

“Where to exactly?” You ask after a while with slight trepidation.

“That new Korean BBQ place that just opened up.”

Damn.

She’s got you beat. You’ve been eyeing that place for a while now but just never had the time or occasion to go. Not only was it the first branch to finally open here from being exclusively abroad for so long, but the restaurant is only a few blocks down the street from where you and Jaehee live; a true miracle because you had always figured such a popular restaurant would be located more towards downtown (which meant having to commute via subway, ugh).

And God must’ve cursed you with a gluttonous vice because your stomach rumbles like it had a say in whether you’re going or not, and by the looks of it, you most certainly are.

So with a defeated sigh, and knowing that Jaehee most likely heard your traitorous stomach even from your doorway, you agree.

The two of you meet up with your companions at the restaurant since they were coming from the downtown area so this way it would be more convenient. Jaehee greets the boys enthusiastically, whereas you wave casually, more subdued.

“Hey, Y/N! It’s been a while since we saw each other.” Mike smiles as he comes up to you.

“Uh, yeah it has huh?” You shift a little in place, but you hurriedly follow after Jaehee and Jason who’s already stepped into the restaurant to grab a table. Jason of course, slides in on the bench side with Jaehee…. Which leaves you and Mike on the chairs across. You inwardly sigh out in exasperation. You just want to get through dinner eating the most Korean BBQ you can and with as little small talk as possible.

To your relief, it wasn’t difficult to do once the food starts rolling out and the grill starts sizzling. For the most part, it works because food is always a great distraction but then the drinks starts pouring and you’d be lying if you said you weren’t totally in love with grapefruit flavoured soju now. Luckily, most conversations stay group oriented and Jaehee takes the lead in most of them, so you bounce off of her topics to make it easier for you to not get stuck conversing with just Mike.

As the eating comes to an end and drinks only remain however, you’re left with very little to defend yourself with.

“So did you see the new Venom movie?” Mike asks you with what you could assume was a playful nudge but all it does is nearly make you slosh your drink. You try not to let the annoyance show on your face as you strain to smile back.

“Ah, yeah I did. I watched it online.” You say off-handedly before downing your drink, the sweetness of grapefruit hiding the usual rubbing alcohol burn of the soju, making it far too easy to swallow. You muse absently about how dangerous that can be.

“What? Why didn’t you see it in theatres? It was a great movie!”

It wasn’t that great. But it wasn’t that bad either. You think to yourself but you’re not in the mood to having an extensive discussion with him, head beginning to slightly throb, so you settle to just shrug.

“I didn’t feel like it. Also, didn’t really have the time.”

“Hey, then when we get the chance, maybe we should go see one together.” Mike suggests. You’re about to give a reply that would underlie a soft let down or at least to not get his hopes up when Jaehee exclaims rather excitedly at the suggestion.

“Oh my god yeah! We should! It’s been so long since I’ve actually went to see a movie in theatres.”

“I swear we went to one not too long ago…” Jason comments, trailing off as his thinks back on it.

“That was in summer, and now it’s winter.” Jaehee turns back to you and Mike in front of her, her excitement not seeming to die down anytime soon as she blurts out a little too loudly. “It can be like a double date!”

You nearly choke on the soju you’ve been sipping, covering it up hastily with the loud clearing of your throat and decidedly placing the glass down to reach for the cup of cold water instead.

“Woah you okay?” You feel Mike’s hand on your shoulder; the sudden contact makes your arm flinch in surprise. You hurriedly gulp down the water, letting the coolness wash over the rough patch in your throat before mustering up a stiff smile in assurance.

“Y-Yeah, no, I’m fine! Just…. went down the wrong pipe is all.” Your voice comes out hoarse and you cough again to clear it, chuckling nervously. Jaehee laughs as if you just hadn’t nearly choked to death, though she refills your cup of water generously.

“You need to slow down with that soju. Is it really that good?”

“Yeah!” You jump on the chance to direct your attention elsewhere, “Really good! I like, almost finished this bottle by myself!” You forcefully laugh; feel your cheeks start to heat up, whether from said alcohol or embarrassment. You start to wonder belatedly if you should check with a mirror to see if you’ve gone as red as you usually do when drinking (boy would that be even more embarrassing!).

“You know what, I need to go to the washroom. Be right back!” You hurriedly excuse yourself, the chair wobbling as you get up with a stumble.

“Oh! I’ll come with you!” Jaehee volunteers as she jumps up from her seat, grabbing your arm and dragging you to the ladies’ room. After a quick trip of emptying your bladder, you finally get a look at your reflection as you wash your hands. You’re relieved to find that you’re not completely red, just the slightest shade of pink peeking through your foundation. You note with satisfaction of how high coverage it is.

“Hey, Y/N!” Jaehee calls cheerfully to you as she steps out of her cubicle with a flush. She comes to stand next to you, bumping your hips before lathering her hands with soap and water.

“What?” You ask more concentrated in your attempts at patting away some of the oiliness on your nose and chin.

“I think Mike is really into you.” Jaehee teases, a sneaky smile sent your way but you’re not as amused by the idea as she is. You wrinkle your nose, face scrunching in the mirror in front of you.

“Um, what makes you so sure about that?”

“Don’t tell him I told you, but Mike messaged me before we headed out tonight. He said you and him have been hitting it off pretty well.”

You furrow your eyebrows because that’s not how you see it and you express that much. Jaehee gives you a look that says she thinks otherwise.

“The guy’s just super nervous around you. He really wants to get to know you better. Hell, if I wasn’t seeing Jason, I would go for him.” You can see her efforts in trying to get you to sympathize and though you don’t have much to argue against Mike because he really does seem like a nice guy and hasn’t done anything wrong, you don’t feel…. a connection. At all.

“I mean he’s nice…. I guess? And like we talk, but I just don’t really feel anything? I don’t know….” You reply half mumbling distractedly, not really knowing how to explain but also finding that you don’t really care.

“Is it because of that other guy who saved you?”

You swear the speed in which you turn to Jaehee nearly knocks you off your own feet, heart thudding loudly against your ribcage that you have no time to discern if it’s from the alcohol or the thought of your Jimin impostor guardian demon.

“W-What? Um, no! He’s—We’re not— I mean there’s nothing between us!” You get out, voice raising a little too high that it startles some other ladies who walked in. You shrink back as Jaehee lets out cackles and gives a hearty smack to your back, jerking you forward from the force. She startles you again by abruptly stopping midway to dramatically gasp, eyes wide and gleaming in a way that makes you nervous because inebriated Jaehee is often times too brash and too impulsive for her own good.

“What if you just…. talk to him?”

“Who? Ji—?“ You almost make the mistake of saying his name aloud but you had lit Jaehee to cover for you, even if it was unintentional.

“Mike! You need to talk to him…alone.” She cuts you off, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“I— I don’t get it…?”

“You need to get a feel for him in person! And this is only the second time you’ve met and it’s always with me and Jason! No wonder you’re not connecting properly!”

“H-Huh?” You’re slow on the follow up because you thought you were still talking about Jimin?

“I’ll tell you what!” Jaehee laser focuses on you and instinctively, your shoulder hunches up to brace for impact. “Why don’t I leave with Jason so we could give you some alone time?”

You blink in disbelief and Jaehee pouts at your lack in response.

“C’mon, Y/N! How about just…thirty minutes? Yeah, thirty minutes! If you’re not feeling him even then…. then you can leave and I’ll never speak of it again."

You think that’s about as good as it’s going to get with Jaehee and your mind processes and contemplates it as well. It’s not ideal but you don’t see any harm in chatting a guy one on one for thirty minutes, if it means you could say at least you tried and it’ll put this entire thing to rest once and for all.

“Okay, fine.” You sigh out with reluctance. “Thirty minutes but that’s it.”

Jaehee squeals and nods obviously pleased and with one last fluff to her hair, she pulls you out of the washroom and back to your table. Jason and Mike are unsurprisingly chatting it up and having a great time with each other (so much so that you think ruefully that maybe they should be left alone). But at yours and Jaehee’s approach, their attention is drawn, both shooting smiles.

“Oh you’re finally back.” Jason remarks, “We got another bottle of grapefruit soju since it’s pretty good.” He picks up the green bottle to give it a shake. Jaehee however, makes to pull him up and out of his seat. He follows obediently, although a bit puzzled.

“Oh sorry, I just remembered I have something to give you Jason so we need to get going.” Jaehee smiles blindingly, cheeks puffing up and eyes creasing as she continues to tug at Jason. “But hey, how about Mike and Y/N finish the bottle? We’ll get the bill this time, our treat! So you just take your time okay?"

“Oh, uh, sure? If that’s okay?” Mike shifts his eyes to you as you awkwardly shuffle over to make way for the other couple. Your eyes dart to him, a nervous laugh bubbling past your lips as you rub your neck.

“Y-Yeah, thanks Jaehee…Jason... No worries... I like grapefruit soju….”

“Great! Then we’ll get going, it was nice seeing you again Mike! Bye Y/N, text me!” And before you know it, Jaehee zips off with Jason in tow and mentally you brace yourself; no doubt that this will probably be the longest thirty minutes of your life.

Okay, Y/N relax. Just have a casual talk with this guy for thirty minutes and then you can leave and go to sleep. It’s not that deep. You think to yourself as you slide into the bench seat across from Mike who cracks open the bottle and graciously fill your glass for you. You take it with a smile and as he raises his up for you to clink against, you do so before downing it without hesitation, the drink still chilled enough that it seems to cool your nerves.

Your conversations with Mike were as you had predicted; nothing of interest to note. You talked movies; about the food you just ate which lead to food preferences to other interests that you don’t go too in depth with (at least on your behalf, Mike doesn’t seem shy on talking about how he’s really into cars).

Eventually, you make the conscious decision of stopping yourself from taking anymore shots of soju because you realized by the second and a half glass, you’re starting to faintly feel the creeping affects of the alcohol, a light misting of inebriation blanketing your mind causing you to find it difficult to recall how much time has passed. So when Mike had offered to refill your glass, you politely decline. The bottle was still a little more than halfway done, and though Mike attempts to get you to help him out, you were steadfast in sobering up by the time you get to leave.

Besides, the alcohol is starting to mess with your sense of judgment in which you can actually feel the deterioration of a rather vital thing to your conscious; a filter.

Which brings you to eyeing your phone surreptitiously from under the table, what should’ve been just a peek to read Jaehee’s text reminding you to call her if you needed anything, turned into a rapidly growing curiosity of ‘what-ifs’ that involve a certain demon.

What if you just…talk to him?

You’re hearing Jaehee’s words echo in your head, though you swear somewhere in the back of your mind they’re way out of context. But the point of it remains; what would happen if you were to send a text to him? Would he be annoyed? Would he text back? Hell, you don’t even know if he’s still alive! What if his boss was unsatisfied with his work and just straight up burned him to a crisp with the infernal flames of hell?! Oh my god! Why haven’t you thought of that before?! Now it’s been over a week since you’ve last heard of him you’re so stupid—!

“Hey, Y/N!”

“…Huh? Oh? Sorry did you say something?”

Mike, who stares at you with a rather glazed look, pulls you from irrationally making one direct call to hell. A quick glance at the soju bottle tells you he’s made good work on it, coming down to the last glassful. A little pink in the face but he still looks way better than you would if you'd down that much soju.

“I was askin’ if you had a boyfriend.”

Oh.

“Um…’s been a while; got too busy with school and work.”

“So…do I have a chance with you?”

…. HUH?

You freeze, doing a double take. “W-What?”

“You know, a chance to be with you…"

Okay so you didn’t hear wrong. That still doesn’t mean you know how to respond to that appropriately. You didn’t want to hurt him because you’re sure it’s liquid courage that’s making him ask this, also the fact that he hasn’t done anything to upset you.

“Aha…whoa uh,” You flounder through a nervous laugh because you’d rather get some sort of response out instead of remain silent. “I uh, I…dunno…?”

“What’s not to know?” He asks rather boldly and you’re completely taken aback. “I thought we had somethin’ goin’ on.”

“H-Hey, I think you’re a nice guy, but I don’t think I'm really looking for a relationship right now. I’m sorry if I lead you on somehow.”

“So would you ever love me?”

Now you’re speechless, can’t really believe just how fast things have snowballed that it almost has your mind sobering up in an instant. You’ve tried your best to let him down gently but it’s like it’s not getting through to him. Perhaps you should take it as a sign as your cue to leave.

“Uhh…I think I should go. You should go too! It’s…late. It’s been nice.” You slide out from the other side, clutching at your purse and phone. Your heart’s pounding in your chest again and you can feel it pulsing in your ear too. You fumble with shaky fingers to type in your phone’s lock code, getting it wrong twice before getting it right to tap on Jaehee’s number. You press the phone close to your ear, letting the dial tone ring as your feet take you out of the restaurant and onto the streets. The chilly night air does wonders in further clearing your mind but it also makes you painfully aware of how hot your face still feels.

“Hey Y/N! How’s the date going?” Jaehee’s cheery voice comes through after the third ring.

“H-Hey Jaehee! Uh..um…I wouldn’t say well…? He might have had too much to drink so he sorta—“ You’re speed walking in the direction of your home, completely tunnel visioning so you fail to notice a pair of heavy footsteps fast approaching you from behind. A force almost knocks you over; you stumble forward in a mess of legs, fighting to stay upright the same time you feel your phone being ripped out of your grasp.

“Jaehee? Is that you? Y-Yeah everythin’s okay! I’m okay! Y/N’s takin’ me home now, drank too much haha! She’s just lettin’ ya know! Yeah, yeah no don’t worry! Okay bye!”

By the time you’ve righted yourself, Mike’s hung up on Jaehee with the bullshit he’s spewed. You’re absolutely livid when you turn on him with a glare so piercing you’d think Jimin would be proud.

“What's wrong with you?!” You yell out, trying to snatch your phone back but Mike who’s significantly taller than you, easily keeps it at bay with minimal effort. It only makes you fly more into a blinding rage.

“W-Wait! Let’s head back to my place and chill?”

“Like hell I would! Give me back my phone!”

“At least walk with me to the subway?”

You’re heaving with effort, energy exerted from your fail attempts at getting your phone and your pause to catch your breath must’ve made him think you were going to agree to his request because he’s looking at you hopefully. You wanted to laugh in his face but you’d rather face the devil himself at this point than be with this guy for another minute.

“I’ll call you an Uber! Now give me my phone!” You seethe.

“C’mon Y/N, don’t be like that. I’ve been nice to you so can you at least—“

You swear steam is coming out of your ears at this point, your hands shaking at the audacity and just when you’ve locked in your choice to rugby tackle him with all your body mass, another voice cuts through the both of you.

“I do believe the young lady said no.” His drawl is a bone-chilling calm that you could almost feel the temperature drop even further by it.

Under the flickering street lamp’s light, you catch a wisp of black smoke; the tendrils trail before fading out of sight over Mike’s shoulder. You follow it up until you reach Mike’s hand — the one holding your phone — where you see extra digits wrapped firmly around his wrist, nails digging into the skin. Mike’s head whips behind him alarmed, to reveal the shockingly beautiful face you’ve come to know.

Jimin stands unperturbed behind Mike who visibly struggles against his hold, even when Jimin is at least a good inch shorter than him. His face an inscrutable mask and eyes swirling a deep garnet, the only thing betraying his utter displeasure.

“H-Hey what the fuck man! Who are—ARGH!!” Mike’s exclamations turns into a howl of pain at the sounds of a crack, hand dropping your phone to which Jimin smoothly catches and lets him crumple to the ground to cradle his wrist. You step back to avoid being in his line of falling, mouth gaping and trying to catch up with what just happened. So far, you’ve only registered that Jimin is here.

“Darling you’ll catch flies if you keep that up.” Jimin tuts, stepping over Mike’s curled up body. He takes your hand and places your phone in it and you’re in such disbelief that you nearly drop it. He still looks immaculate as ever, dressed in an all black except this time he’s wearing a cozy looking turtleneck under a leather jacket and fitted jeans. His hair is styled in the usual way it is — coiffed with a few strands hanging over his forehead with such volume that it made you envious— but you’re shocked to see that it was no longer plain silver; there’s a blueish tint to it now. The sight mesmerizes you.

Jimin goes to say something teasing, you just know it as you see the upturn corner of his mouth but before he can get it out, a shuffling and a grunt from behind makes his face drop back into the frighteningly stony mask again, plush lips drawn into a line. You see Mike stumble to his feet, still clutching at his wrist while trying to burn a hole into the back of Jimin’s head.

It was then that you realize that Mike, a human much like yourself, is staring directly at Jimin and now that you think about it, he had also addressed Jimin when he first appeared just as he does now.

“W-Who the fuck do you think you are?!” Mike growls. Jimin merely scoffs; you don’t need to see his face to know he’s probably rolled his eyes. But instead of addressing the angry man, Jimin slaps on a benevolent smile your way and begins to usher you.

“Come darling, you must be cold standing out here and we really ought to get—“ He cuts himself off by reaching up and catching a flying fist aimed at him. You gasp out in shock at the speed and the suddenness of Mike actually having the balls to try to throw a punch. Eyes wide, you look up to gauge Jimin’s reaction to find that yes, he looks pissed; jaw clenched and eyes burning with hellfire itself.

You let out a surprise yelp as Jimin clamps down on Mike’s fist and with little effort, flips him and begins to drag him off, heading to an alley concealed by shadows. You scurry after him after snapping out of your initial shock, panicked and stuttering out words incoherently because you are not going to have another dead body on your conscious, at least not someone who you actually knew no matter how douche-y he turned out to be.

“I’ll break your other wrist, and then your legs, and then your neck. And if you want a tour of hell, come back three more times.” You hear Jimin spit out between gritted teeth, but you highly doubt it got through to Mike who’s too busy writhing, screaming and cursing from the ground.

“Jimin! Wait, I said no killing! Jimin! Hey, you jerk! Listen to me!” You had to yell over Mike’s voice, wondering how it is that you guys haven’t woken up the whole neighbourhood yet as you push against Jimin’s very firm chest to get him to halt in his tracks.

“Sweetie, not now. I need to enact the Lord’s good graces and teach this petulant human some manners.”

“That does not make any sense! And—SHUT UP!” The incessant yelling from Mike finally gets to you, having heard enough of his voice for the night as you impulsively deliver an adrenaline filled kick to his face. He knocks out immediately.

Jimin drops his hold on Mike’s fist with an unceremonious thump, bewildered. “Way to kill steal from me, pumpkin.”

You gasp loudly, nerves shaken from what you just did and what Jimin has just told you as a new wave of rising panic sets in. “O-Oh my god did I actually kill him?! Is he dead?! I didn’t mean—!”

Your demon guardian throws his head back, a boisterous laughter escaping him as he folds in on himself. You jump back startled and could only stare on in silent horror because of course he would find this funny and would be of no help!

“J-Jimin! This isn’t funny! What are we gonna do now?!”

“Relax darling…” He finally wheezes out, straightening himself up while wiping the corner of his eyes. “He’s not dead, unfortunately; just K.O’ed by a swift kick to the face. Probably broke his nose though so good job on that.”

You gape like a fish out of water and all he does is stare back at you with the lingering traces of a fond smile that has your traitor of a heart skipping a beat. Damn him!

“You—!” You start, huffing and puffing and though words escape you, your fists don’t as you land a hit on his chest. He takes it with little resistant, relenting himself as you let out your pent up frustrations. “You stupid jerk and your pretty stolen face! Just showing up like you own the place without even saying anything to me for more than a week! And then let some other stupid jerk try to get a jump on me! Some guardian demon you are! I could’ve just handled it all myself!”

You tire yourself out by the time you’re done your tirade, strength leaving your arms as they slap uselessly against the leather of his jacket until you stop altogether. Jimin’s quiet, the quietest you think he’s ever been. You refuse to make eye contact with him, staring determinedly down on his shiny black loafers but instead of some snarky comment about owing him for using him as a punching bag, you hear a shuffle of movement and then something heavy drapes over your shoulder, a waft of all too familiar vanilla lavender smell easing whatever remaining tension left in your body.

Your gaze automatically whips up to his. He busies himself securing the jacket to you before his eyes wander to meet yours; the soft brown colour that stares back comforts you.

“You’ve had a rough night darling, and I’m sorry I wasn’t there. So I’ll forgive you for beating up my Saint Laurent jacket and we’ll call it even?”

For a moment, you thought of scowling him and his love for name brand things but all you really want to do now is go home and fall asleep, so you nod softly, giving in. Jimin lets out a quiet chuff of amusement, hand coming up to stroke your hair with a gentleness that has your heart aching with the disgruntlement that you do miss having him by your side.

“Y/N!” A shout freezes you up like cold water being dumped over your head as you whip towards the source of the call. To your astonishment, you see a familiar face running towards you, her figure unmistakable and as she draws nearer, you can see clearly who it is.

It’s Jaehee.

She slows to a stop, panting heavily from how hard she must’ve ran, shoulders slumped as she braces herself on her knees but even then she’s still trying to muster out words in between gasps of breath. “You called and….suddenly Mike was on the phone! Saying how he drank too much? That you were taking him home! And I just…I had such a bad feeling I had to… Are you okay?!”

Jaehee makes to lunge at you but stops midway as she finally notices your frozen, wide eyed appearance and you see with pinpoint accuracy the way her eyes trail from your face to your shoulders to the extra hand on your shoulder all the way up to Jimin who is quite at a loss for words as well.

You watch with baited breath as she squints up at him with a gaze so fixated on analyzing him, a myriad of emotions flitting across her own face before she utters.

“Have I…seen you from somewhere?”

521 notes · View notes

marshmallowgoop · 6 years ago

Text

Kill la Kill the Game: IF News (05/17/19)

Friday, May 17th, 2019 brought a plethora of news for the upcoming Kill la Kill the Game: IF.

First off, the official website for the game updated its product information, listing ratings, display resolutions, frame rates, and more:

Perhaps most notably:

✄ The game will run at 60fps on the PlayStation 4 and Steam versions but only at 30fps on the Nintendo Switch version.

✄ The text languages will be English, Japanese, Chinese (Simplified and Traditional), Korean, and French. Italian, German, and Spanish subtitles are “planned as an update near the game’s release date.”

✄ “There are no alterations to the game’s visuals (costumes and etc.) between the regions and platforms.”

On top of the site update, an Arc System Works post released five never-before-seen screenshots: Satsuki in her game-exclusive final form, Junketsu-Shinzui (pictured at the top of this post), the title screens for Satsuki and Ryuko’s story modes, Ryuko with COVERS enemy and Nui, and a mysterious figure in the Fiber Castle:

The post also reveals small tidbits of information about the game’s story mode. Satsuki’s story mode is titled “こころ乱して運命かえて,” and Ryuko’s story mode—unlockable after beating Satsuki’s—is titled “帰らざる日のために.” I am unsure of the official localizations of these titles, but I might translate Satsuki’s as, “Upset My Heart, Change My Destiny” and Ryuko’s as, “For the Day I Cannot Return.”

Further, the post teases that the game’s story—which becomes completely original after the events of the anime’s episode 8—will have an enemy even greater than Ragyo Kiryuin. Is this enemy perhaps related to the aforementioned “secret of the Original Life Fiber”?

Finally, the post links to a video of the game’s first story mission with Japanese voice acting and subtitles:

youtube

IGN posted a video of the game’s first story mission with English voice acting and subtitles a couple of weeks ago:

youtube

However, the new video includes a new scene, which I translated roughly here:

[A]fter Ryuko and Senketsu lose to Satsuki in battle, Satsuki says, “Is this the extent of your power?” Ryuko replies, “Damn, you’ve gotten even stronger, you bitch. I’ll get you for this next time!” She then flees, whispering, “Senketsu, let’s go!”

With the two of them gone, Ragyo compliments the match, telling Satsuki, “That was quite the interesting spectacle.” But Satsuki disagrees. “No,” she says. “I have shown you something disappointing.”

Nui takes this opportunity to express an interest in Ryuko and her Kamui, but Satsuki is not at all about it. She says, without even a moment’s hesitation, “I will handle the matter of Ryuko Matoi and her Kamui myself. If you needlessly meddle, I will not forgive you, even if you are the Grand Couturier.”

Afterwards, Satsuki announces that she’s ready to begin the Raid Trip. Ragyo says that she awaits good news, and Nui bids Lady Satsuki goodbye.

For more IF footage, there was an exhibition of the game at Stunfest this last Friday as well. The exhibition utilizes the demo prepared for the MCM London Comic Con next weekend, and nearly an hour of footage is available for viewing.

#kill la kill #kill la kill the game #kill la kill the game: if #arc system works #spoilers #klk spoilers #long post #video

151 notes · View notes

gauntie-o-dimm · 5 years ago

Text

Gaetan | Surprise, you’re mine

"After receiving a letter from your sister telling you that she is expecting a child soon, you decide to pay her a surprise visit. On the way home, your sister's husband is helped on the road by a Wiedzman who invokes the law of surprise. Upon returning home with the Wiedzmin in tow, the last thing your sister's husband was expecting was to find you there. Whether you are ready to accept your new fate or not, Gaetan is ready to show you that you are his."

Words: 4000+ Warnings: Smut, swearing, (slight dub-con?)

Stepping under the small roof that shielded the front door, I took off my hood, bag in hand. The rain had been pouring from the sky like it never had before, at least from what I remembered. I knocked on the door firmly, hoping to grab her attention. Much to my surprise, it instantly swung open, revealing a distraught looking Kaja. 'Nicho-,' she was silent for a moment, staring at me as if I was a Katakan standing right in front of her door, but then she smiled. '(Y/n)! You came!' 'Of course!' I replied. 'Come on in, quick! You must be starving! I will make you some hot stew, alright darling?' I did as she said, draping my drenched cloak over the back of a chair close by the fire, tossing my bag nearby as well so it could dry in the heat. Kaja locked the door and followed me soon after. 'Look at you!' I exclaimed, following her to the kitchen. 'You are absolutely glowing!' She grinned widely and put her hands on her flushed cheeks. 'I know! I know!' She gave me a mug of hot goat milk. 'Please sis, sit down!' We walked to the living room and Kaja sat down on the couch with a happy sigh. 'I just can't believe you are here already! I thought you would be coming next week...' 'I just wanted to surprise you.' Her smile however faded as soon as I asked her the following question. 'Where is Nicholas?' She was silent for a few moments before looking at me with a serious gaze. 'He ah... Nick went away for a few days to sell one of our cows and two chickens... But he hasn't returned yet, I expected him home two days ago. I'm so afraid, (Y/n), I-' she stopped mid-sentence, standing up and rubbing her clammy hands on her skirt. '-I am worried,' Kaja spoke, walking from the door to the couch again, 'that something has happened on the way. He has been gone for such a long time now and...'

I put a hand on her shoulder, pulling her into a tight hug. 'Oh, sweetheart... I am sure that your Nicholas is okay. He's a tough man, you know. Always working even when the weather outside is freezing cold...' I rubbed her back, attempting to calm her down. It slightly worked, her crying slowly changing into sobs. As she kept sniffling and I tried my best to comfort her, I heard a slight knock on the door. Probably it was one of the local farmers, needing some kind of favour - who else would go outside in this damn weather?

'I will get it.' I said, letting her sit down on the couch, 'Try to calm down, alright? You can have my goat milk, okay? I haven't drank from it yet and it's still warm.' Kaja sniffled, wiping her nose on her sleeve. 'Thank you, sis...' I gave her a small nod and walked towards the door, opening it to reveal - 'Nicholas!' '(Y/n)?!' He grabbed my arms, giving me a kiss on both cheeks. 'My dear sister-in-law! I didn't know you would visit so soon! I-' He fell silent, something very sad coming over his features. For a moment, his gaze flickered to a figure standing next to him. I hadn't paid much attention to him, but now I looked at the man properly. He looked like a big chunk of meat, broad shoulders and intimidating eyes. Shivers ran down my spine. 'Come in.' I quickly said, breaking the awkward silence. 'Lucky for you lads, Kaja has just put stew on the stove, so we can dig right in.'

The two men went inside, hanging their wet clothes on a hook before heading for the living room. The companion Nick had brought hadn't said anything, but something about his presence was making me very nervous, and not only because he looked very handsome... 'Kaja, sweetheart!' Nicholas exclaimed as soon as he set eye on his wife. 'Oh, my darling!' Kaja nearly fell into his arms, hugging him close. Protectively, Nicholas wrapped himself around her, letting her cry into his neck. 'I was so worried! You had been gone for so long and I thought something terrible had happened on the way!' He rubbed her back, kissing her forehead. 'As a matter-of-fact, it did. If it weren't for this brave soul over here, I would've certainly ended up as Rotfiend-feed...' He visibly shuddered and then smiled at his friend.

I rushed to the kitchen and made two bowls of stew - I would eat later, I figured. Bringing the hot food to the two men, handing it to them before sitting down on one of the big chairs close to the hearth. Now that I was sitting still, I could inspect the stranger a little better. He was a Witcher, with yellow eyes much to the likeness of a feline. 'Who is your friend, then?' Kaja asked him, smiling. 'His name is Gaetan.' For some reason, the Witcher's gaze now rested on me. I felt my throat slightly tighten. Why were his eyes suddenly darkening? 'Did you pay him with the money you got for selling our lifestock?' Kaja asked her husband. Nicholas rubbed his neck. 'Yeah, about that... The cow died on the way, crushed by a falling tree. Damn storm. One of the chickens was stolen and the fifteen orens that I got for the other one were hardly enough for the Witcher, so...' 'So, what? We can keep him here for a few days, if he wishes to. Free food and shelter until the weather has calmed down at least a bit.' Kaja insisted, giving Gaetan a friendly smile. Said man only crossed his arms over his chest, waiting for Nicholas to speak up. 'I told him he could have anything he wants.' 'Well, that he deserves! He brought you back to me in one piece, and I will be eternally grateful for that! I still have a pearl necklace from a deceased aunt, ugly thing and the aunt was a bitch, but it has some value to it-' 'That is not what he wants. He... He said...' Nick grew restless and shifted uncomfortably on his feet.

'I want the first thing that comes to greet you.' The Witcher said to him, 'That is what I asked for, and you agreed, meaning...'

He turned to me, looking me straight in the eye this time, and I felt the blood drain from my cheeks. 'That you're the one that I will take from here.' 'W-What...?' I stuttered, a frown appearing on my face. 'You can't do that!' Kaja exclaimed, stepping closer to me. 'She is my sister!' 'But your husband has promised me the first thing that came to greet him. And that turns out to be that pretty lady over here.' 'Pretty lady?!' I sputtered, too lost for words. 'By the gods, are you mad?' 'A promise is a promise, and if you don't come with me willingly, well... Then I have to apply force.' 'Do Witchers have any conscience?! Monsters, all of you.' Kaja huffed, putting herself between Gaetan and I.

'Step out of the way. I will be back on the road shortly. Or do you prefer me collecting your child in a few months?' Kaja let out a gasp, shaking her head. I saw tears swimming on the brims of her eyes. She was silent for a few seconds before the Witcher spoke again. 'That's what I thought.' Kaja opened her mouth, wanting to say something, but no words came out. I put a hand on her shoulder, not wanting to cry in front of this stranger. 'It's alright. I will go with him.' 'No, what are you doing?' I walked towards my bag, taking it from the floor. My cloak was still wet as I put it on, but I didn't mind. 'Keeping a promise.' '(Y/n)!'

My sister was crying now, grabbing my arm before bursting into violent sobs. 'There must be another way!' 'I don't want you and your unborn child to be in any danger. I've heard stories about Witchers, Kaj. I believe it is best that I will go with the man.' 'I believe that is best as well.' the bald man said, already walking towards the door. 'Say your fucking goodbyes and meet me in two minutes.' With that, he left the house. Both Kaja and Nicholas wrapped their arms around me, hugging me tight. 'My dear sister...' Kaja cried, 'What is he going to do to you?' 'Perhaps he needs a housekeeper.' I tried to sound cheerful, 'I am sure that nothing bad will happen.' She wailed against my shoulder, my hands cupping her face to wipe away some tears. 'I will visit you again one day. You two be happy now and don't worry about me.' I kissed her forehead before reaching out for Nick, giving his hand a squeeze. I wryly smiled before heading outside. The downpour hadn't lessened compared to earlier. 'Let's go.' Gaetan spoke in a cold tone, his eyes as icy as the rain. I walked towards my horse that was standing underneath a tree. 'Nothing of that. I don't need another animal to feed. You ride with me.' My eyes slightly widened, but I took Gaetans extended hand, mounting to sit behind him. I was a bit hesitant to wrap my arms around him, so I grabbed a hold of the saddlebag. The horse already started to move and I looked over my shoulder to take in the cozy house one more time.

My family appeared in the doorway. 'I love you, (Y/n)!' Kaja sniffled, rubbing her runny nose on her sleeve. 'I love you too!' I replied. With that, Gaetan brought his steed into a canter. I nearly fell, quickly putting my arms around his waist in a reflex to not fall off. I immediately gasped as I realized what I was doing right now - he felt muscular and strong underneath that armor - wait, what was I thinking?!

I heard a faint chuckle in front of me. 'I can hear your heart racing, (Y/n).' I didn't reply, instead keeping my head as far from his back as I could. 'Where the fuck are you taking me?' 'Well,' he said, 'with a little bit of luck we will find a place to sleep soon.' His horse jumped over a fallen tree and I yelped in surprise, holding onto him even tighter. After the shock had died down, I let my arms rest a little lower on his waist. We rode for a good hour before he spoke again. 'So, tell me something about yourself.' 'What's it to you?' Geatan shook his head. 'So much for smalltalk, then.' I felt something press against my palm and I quickly pulled my hands back to myself as if I had just burned myself. 'What the hell was that?' Gaetan slowed down his horse into a trot, making it nearly impossible for me to keep up straight without holding him, and I grabbed onto his armor again. 'Do you really want to know that?' he replied, moving off the path to some location I didn't know. 'Well, yes.' Gaetan laughed, a genuine sound formed in his lungs and left his lips in a sincere chuckle. It sounded nice, I thought. It showed a somewhat warmer side of him. 'Your hands have been resting on my cock for a while now.'

I was glad that I was sitting behind him. My throat screwed shut and I was happy that he could not see how embarrassed I became after the moment he said that. A heavy feeling formed in the pit of my stomach as I re-imagined the feeling of it pressing against my hand - a rock-hard lump and quite large honestly - I thought it was an apple of some sorts... 'Are you done being a nervous wreck? Perhaps I could make you my slave, you know. Fuck you when I please, ha!' If I didn't know better, I would've struck him across the face with a flat hand. But I knew that it would be unwise and the end of me if I chose to do so. Instead I swallowed and tried my damnedest to ignore the warm pool forming in my abdomen, the feeling of getting strangely turned on. 'Would you like that, huh? Taking my big cock up your cunt?' I bit my lip, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. But as he shifted a little backwards, the edge of his belt grazing against my lap and thus hitting a very sensitive spot between my legs, I let out the most wanton sound that had ever left my lips. Immediately, Gaetan stopped his horse. 'What was that?' I didn't say anything, instead trying to collect myself and not think about this handsome stranger that was questioning me, fighting the arousal. 'I asked you something.' he barked. 'It was n-nothing.' Gaetan laughed a little, letting his horse step forward again. I spotted a small cave a little bit away and it seemed like he was heading straight for it. 'You lying bitch. I can smell your excitement, you know? There is no point in not admitting to me. It wasn't like we weren't going to fuck in the first place.' He halted, getting off his horse and hitching it to a tree branch. Then, he helped me off. His face still wet from the rain but it didn't cloak the smug look he was having on it. 'Makes you my property right away, huh.' He gave my lower back a push towards the cave. 'Get in there.' he said, 'Its dry and I am positive there aren't any bears present.' I obeyed, shivering from the cold as I entered it, looking around in the total darkness. I sat down against the wall and watched in silence as Gaetan proceeded to create a fire. Every few seconds, he looked over at me as if to check if I was still there. He seemed so much more... Nice in this situation, and as soon as he had poked alive a nice fire, I could take in his rather handsome features. He had seemed so bestial before but now there was something way prettier about him. 'So, now you are going to suck me off.' he suddenly said, his behaviour turning dominant again. I almost choked on my own saliva. 'Excuse me?' 'You wanna get fucked. Well, you better earn it.' He reached for his belt, unbuckling it before letting it fall to the floor alongside his pants. His erection was pressing tightly against his loincloth - he must be massive underneath there. 'You are kidding, right?' I tried. He wasn't buying it. 'I barely know you and I can read you through and through. Your heart is beating so fast and I can smell you from a mile off, girl. Now on your knees and put that mouth of yours to good use.' He must've put some kind of spell on me, for as if I had lost all control over my body, I started to crawl towards him. My hands reached for his underwear, pulling it aside. My stomach dropped as soon as I saw how huge his erection was. I flipped some (h/c) hair from my face and took his length into one hand, spitting on the tip before jerking him to full mast. Gaetan gritted his teeth a little, holding his hands at his sides. Obviously, he was withholding himself from reaching into my hair. Perhaps it was too intimate a gesture, even though I had practically my mouth on his cock... I pressed my tongue against the slit on his tip, gathering a dollop of glistening pre-cum before sliding it all the way down to his testicles. I softly started to suckle on them, eyeing his reaction curiously. He showed a small grin, one eyebrow slightly raised. 'You must've blown many men before...' he stated as a matter-of-factly. I hummed in response, rolling one of his balls through my mouth and fondling the other with my hand. 'I am not sure what you meant by that, but I will take it as a yes. Fuck, you are very good with your mouth. Saving that simpleton wasn't all that bad.' I took him fully into my mouth, swallowing around him. I closed my eyes tightly as the tip of his cock hit the back of my throat, trying my damnedest not to gag too badly... But as soon as the sound came from my throat that my body was desperately trying to get it out, I felt his length twitch. 'Fuck...!' Gaetan groaned, grabbing a hold of my hair. Without any word of warning, he started to thrust into my mouth, a wet and sloppy sound erupting from the scene. I kept gagging, hoping that I wouldn't throw up, until my body was used to it. But in the discomfort of him fucking my face I felt my body tense up and my legs become weak. Even though I had snot and tears running down my chin, the Witcher seemed to like it. Complete control, I thought. Like a fucking plaything. My lungs started to burn, lacking oxygen. I placed my hands on his thighs, hoping he would get the hint that I was trying to push him off. He held me in place and tears clouded my vision. I felt like I was going to pass out right at the moment he chose to pull back. I gasped for air, my throat searingly painful. I coughed, falling forwards and catching myself onto my hands. And yet, my body was shuddering. I had never felt so turned on before. The Witcher smiled, offering a hand to me. I looked up at him, wiping the corner of my mouth. I must've looked like a mess - and his gaze flickered darkly. 'If you only could see yourself like this... My, my... What would your dear sister think?' he let out a chuckle and I felt my stomach tighten as he took my wrist, pulling me against him. The least thing I expected was for him to kiss me. But there was no gentleness behind his lips. He was rough and his stubble scraped against my chin as he devoured me. As if he was reading my mind, he tore his teeth away from my bottom lip, which he had started attacking with rough bites and nibbles. 'Want me to be more gentle with you?' a string of saliva connected our mouths together and I had to resist the sudden urge to lick it away and slither my tongue into his mouth. His hands felt electric as he grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. 'We aren't in a relationship, so why would I be gentle? I want to fuck you raw and hard... Perhaps you can earn your romance later... But now I need to establish you are mine.' Only the sound of his voice was enough to make me putty in his hands. I desired to be dominated and roughly fucked. His cat-like eyes bore into me, practically staring into my very soul. He spun me around in his arms, pushing me a few steps forward until I was pressed against the stone cold wall of the cave. Roughly, he bent me over. One of his hands held me in place, the other started to roam about my backside. 'Your pants are damp.' he said with a hint of disinterest in his voice. 'Guess you can throw them out now.' Without any kind of warning, he ripped apart the fabric. I gasped and immediately felt cold creep between my butt cheeks. 'Your ass looks like a pair of ripe cherries ripe for the taking... Speaking of cherries...' I let out a wanton moan when I suddenly felt fingers prod at my entrance. He pushed my pussy lips apart, gathering some juices before slipping his fingers into his mouth. 'How sweet...' he purred, 'So ready for my cock... But I am not that nice, am I?' For a moment there was nothing, just my heart drumming in my ears and anticipation. Then I felt my body jolt in pleasure - a warm, hot string of saliva fell onto my tailbone and leaked down between my buttocks. Gaetan released my arm, laying his hand on my hip instead. I waited for something. Anything. I wanted him to eat my ass. I wanted him to fuck me until I collapsed. But I didn't expect the heavy weight of his cock to momentarily rest onto my back. My face pressed against the stone, painfully chafing against the rock. He slid down his length and pressed the tip of his cock against my asshole. 'Your cunt has been taken so many times before, I see... But your asshole looks so tight, I think I should stretch it up a bit.' I moaned out as he pushed himself in, tears springing into my eyes. I had never tried anal before and it showed in my painful reaction to him slipping in further. I let out a breathy grunt, something between pleasure and pain. 'You were pretty good with your mouth on my cock... Can it talk dirty as well?' I bit my lip as the pain ceased. 'I-I can try...' 'Good girl...' he slowly started to thrust into me. 'Go on then.' 'Fuck...' I said with a long drawl. His testicles slapped against my ass and he forced me to bend lower, so he could reach it better. 'Fuck me...' 'Is that all you got?' he laughed, almost pitiful. 'Come on, I can handle it.' 'I want you to... Oh... I want you to fuck... Fuck! Fuck my cunt until I can't stand anymore.' 'Good... What more?' his voice was so calm and collected that it drove me insane - how could his breathing be so controlled? 'I want to ride your cock until it rips me apart...' I felt him twitch inside of me. 'I want you to fill up my tight hole with your Witcher seed.' 'Hmmm...' he lowly groaned, finally showing some pleasure, 'Tell me, (Y/n)... How badly do you want it?' 'Please...' I moaned, 'Please, I want you to rub my pearl! I want you to eat my pussy like dessert!' 'Do you really think that your pleasure matters to me right now? Tell me what you will do to me the next time we have sex.' I pressed my lips together into a tight line, my legs starting to give up underneath me. He was tearing me apart, his speed increasing with the second. 'I want to suck your cock until you explode in my mouth...' I moaned, my breathing becoming erratic. 'Oh... Fuck... I will swallow your c-cum... To the last... Fuck! Drop!' Gaetan let out a heavy sigh, his body stilling for a second. 'Yes, (Y/n)... Hm, tighten yourself for me...' He spilled deep into me, making me feel so desperate for release as well. For a second, his fingers brushed against my hooded clitoris. With a high-pitched moan, I saw the world become white as I shattered right there and then. He pulled his length away from me, limp and red and wholly sated. As soon as Gaetan released me, I half-collapsed against the wall. I tried to catch my breath, body quivering with every pulse my throbbing clit sent through my veins. Utterly exhausted, I looked up at the Witcher. The man in question gave me a small smile while tucking himself back into his pants, seemingly unfazed by a lack of oxygen or an overwhelming amount of pure pleasure. 'Not bad, girl.' he said to me, turning back towards the fire. 'Next time, you can have your reward. Then, you can ride me until you're sated.' I leaned my head against the wall of the cave, watching as Gaetan prepared something to eat. The stone was cold against my behind, but I didn't care. It was not as if the rest of my pants were going to survive this anyway.

#gaetan #the witcher #witcher x reader #smut #x reader #moans of Temeria

39 notes · View notes

eddiesasspbrak · 5 years ago

Text

“I only did it because I love you.”

Prompt inspired by one line of dialogue.

On AO3

Eddie and Richie have always been together. Their lives get pulled apart when they find themselves following work to opposite sides of the country. Eddie's new girlfriend, Myra, will go to great lengths to keep the two men apart.

12k+ words, oneshot

When Eddie had graduated college and left his best friend behind for a job in a different city, he’d been heartbroken. They’d known each other since they were children, were practically inseparable all the way through high school. When they chose to leave their small hometown of Derry behind, they had conveniently gotten into the same college.

They’d applied to all the same schools and sat together, opening letters at the same time to see if they could stay together. When they’d finally found matching acceptance letters it was decided. They couldn’t live without each other. Or, so they thought.

After graduation, Eddie had gotten a job in New York at an insurance company as a risk analysist. Richie talked about following him, but he hadn’t quite finished his degree and had planned to stay another year to finish it up. For a moment, Eddie considered turning down the job for something local, but Richie promised he’d graduate the following year and join him in the city. Until then they’d try to visit. Nothing would tear apart their friendship, that’s what Richie had promised followed by a snide comment about Eddie missing him too much to function.

So off he went, bound for New York. Richie helped him move, spent a few days getting him settled, and they said goodbye at the airport. Eddie cried unashamed, Richie held it in until he was out of sight. Eddie hardly slept that night. He was so used to falling asleep to Richie’s loud snoring from across the room that the silence became too much. Part of him wished he’d had the forethought to record his snoring while he could but that was probably a creepy thing to do. He went the next day to buy a white noise machine.

Emails, phone calls, texts, Facebook messages, they all became scarce and far between as both men became busy with their separate lives. Somehow Eddie found it easier and easier to live without Richie. Part of that was due to a girl he’d met. Myra.

During their first conversation he’d told her all about Richie. She’d told him he sounded like a bad influence and that he had too much of a dependency on the other man. It wasn’t good for him and the separation was going to cure him of that. He thought then of his mother. She’d never liked Richie, didn’t like their closeness. She wanted Eddie to make other friends. He made the point that he did have other friends. Five other friends in fact. He loved Bev, Ben, Mike, Bill and Stan but Richie was his best friend, the one he always thought of first when it came to sharing good news.

That’s why Richie had been the first to hear about Myra. He sent a series of texts, explaining that there was just some familiar comfort he’d found in her. He wasn’t completely sure he liked her at first, but she just cared so dearly for him and always had his best interest at heart. It made him feel loved and cared for. Something he longed for since being alone in the city.

Richie had congratulated him on finding someone, made a joke about how he was happy with Eddie’s mom as well, but it felt off. Like he wasn’t as happy for him as he let on. Eddie brushed it off as a misunderstanding. It was always so hard to determine tone in a text. That was when the messages began to come less frequently.

Richie never did keep his promise of following Eddie to New York. He’d often attended open mic nights at comedy clubs and managed to get a few laughs every time. On a particularly good night for him, wherein he made plenty of jokes about his first love, his unrequited love, an agent looking for new talent was lucky enough to be in the audience. He’d approached Richie and given him his card, filling his head with dreams of making it big as a comedian.

Richie had sat on that card for days, attending classes and going about his life as normal. He was so close to completing his degree and graduating. So close to going to Eddie. When he learned of the other man’s new girlfriend, his heart shattered in a very dramatic way. He pretended to support his friend, congratulated him, and then cried for a good hour.

He always knew that he would never have his feelings reciprocated, but Eddie never really dated before now. He might get a crush, do some flirting, his first kiss had been a public disaster (which Richie never let him live down), but he’d never had a relationship that lasted more than a week. Part of that might have been Richie’s fault.

Whenever a new girl would come sniffing around, Richie made sure to become extra clingy. Eddie never seemed to notice or mind, having been so used to Richie always being there with him. The taller man would make his vulgar jokes when they were around, which Eddie was used to having grown up with the guy. He’d always get a sigh and an eyeroll from his friend and harsh words from the girls that already hated him for being a third wheel. From there the relationships would fall apart as Eddie would refuse to stop hanging around Richie at their request. Richie always dreaded the day his tricks wouldn’t work anymore, and he’d be stolen away.

When Eddie had gone to New York alone, Richie was full of anxiety. He’d never been without the smaller man and wouldn’t be there to fight off the women. Eddie was cute, like a small animal you wanted to protect. Women always seemed to fall for that part of him.

His mother was a bit of a disaster having Munchausen syndrome by proxy. Something Richie hadn’t realized until he took a psyche course as part of his prerequisites. Everything the professor said about the disorder sounded just like Sonia. She kept Eddie on all kinds of fake medications through his life, convincing him he was sick and making him afraid of the world that could infect him. As far as Richie was aware, the only thing he actually suffered from was obsessive compulsive disorder, a result of the fears instilled in him that everything had to be clean and tidy to avoid illness.

Richie was afraid he’d fall for someone just like her. He hoped Myra wasn’t that someone.

Feeling heart broken, he made the decision that he couldn’t follow Eddie to New York. He couldn’t see them together. Sure, he could revert to his old ways, drive her away. But it was clear that Eddie liked women, liked her, and he’d chosen Myra to be with. How long could he ruin Eddie’s potential happiness for his own selfish and impossible desires? He didn’t know what he was working for anymore. The only reason he’d even chosen college was to stay with Eddie.

On an impulse, he pulled the business card from his wallet and dialed the number. He told the man on the other end that he was interested in a career in comedy and things seemed to move quickly from there. His parents were less than thrilled when they found out he’d dropped out of college, so close to graduating with his degree, to pursue comedy instead. When he told Eddie, he got an earful. How could he risk his future like that? Shouldn’t he graduate first so he had something to fall back on? What if this guy was a con artist, setting him up to fail for his own gain? After a lot of bickering that turned to yelling, the line fell silent. When Eddie spoke again, his voice was no longer angry.

“You’re still coming to New York, right?” He asked, his voice quiet, worried.

“I…no Eds. He wants me to go to LA.” Richie responded, biting at his nails out of nervous habit.

Eddie made a noise that was somewhere between a scoff and hiccup and Richie wondered if he’d started to cry.

“LA is all the way on the other side of the country!” He shouted.

Richie was very much aware of the distance. The odds that they would see each other again were becoming slimmer. Eddie was busy with work and Myra; Richie would be busy trying to launch his career and nursing his broken heart.

“I have to take my chance now. This guy really thinks I can make it big. He says LA is where I need to be. He’s even covering my traveling expenses to California and putting me up in a hotel until I find a place. That has to mean something, right?” Richie tried to sound hopeful, tried to make a sad feeling turn into optimism.

“We’ll never see each other again.” Eddie sniffled. He was definitely crying.

“Sure we will.” Richie said, his own voice cracking. He cleared his throat and deflected with a joke like he always did. “We’ll still see each other at holidays at your moms, right? I mean, I’m practically our stepdad by this point. Think of what this distance will do to our relationship. I can’t imagine there will be any MILFs like her in LA.”

Eddie sighed, though the tears seemed to have stopped. “Shut the fuck up, Richie.”

The line went silent again and Richie found the urge to cry stronger than before. He felt like he was letting go of a big piece of himself. He needed Eddie like he needed oxygen, and he felt like he would suffocate without him by his side. What else could he do? Being with him without being with him was too painful.

“I’ll reserve a front row seat to my first real show for you.” Richie promised.

“I’ve already heard all of your terrible jokes.”

“I’ve written so much new material lately, you won’t recognize a single joke. Besides, you love my jokes.” Richie smiled to himself, picturing all the open mic nights Eddie had been at to support him. “Tell me you’ll come.”

“I’ll be there.” Eddie promised.

Richie hung up the phone an hour later feeling weighed down by emotions he wasn’t ready to deal with. Instead, he packed. With his parents help, he’d managed to spend the last year in a one-bedroom apartment near campus. He couldn’t imagine going back to the dorms without Eddie as his roommate. He wasn’t taking much. Most of the furniture had been from thrift stores or trash finds and he had no real connection to any of it. Eddie thought it was disgusting that he filled his home with used furniture.

“Do you know how hard it is to get rid of bedbugs?!” he’d shouted at him when Richie told him about the recliner he’d found on the side of the road.

Everything in his life seemed to be filled with memories of Eddie and it was painful.

A week later, Richie was turning over his keys and boarding his flight to LA. Even with hectic schedules and different time zones, the two still managed to stay in contact though it was far less frequent than before. Rushed texts between sets, calls becoming impossible, most of their contact coming from Facebook likes. It was easy for them to forget how distant they’d become with busy days distracting them from the loneliness. It wasn’t until they each settled into bed at night that the separation really got to them. It was like a hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach. A missing piece.

Finally, after months of small clubs and small audiences, Richie’s manager booked him a gig at one of the bigger comedy clubs in the area. This was it. The moment he was waiting for to invite Eddie out to LA to watch him. For the first time in what felt like forever, he called his best friend with the news. Eddie congratulated him, though he was distracted. Him and Myra were on their way out the door for dinner. He could hear her bickering at him in the background about the dangers of descending stairs while on the phone.

Richie rolled his eyes but said nothing. Eddie wrote down the date, told him he’d book the flight as soon as he got home from dinner, told him he was excited to see him. Richie felt like his heart was full just from hearing the excitement in his voice. He couldn’t wait to see that adorable face looking up at him from the front row. He’d reserved two seats, though Eddie had said he wasn’t sure Myra would want to come. Richie hoped she didn’t.

When his big night came around, Richie was nervous. He’d been busy all day, sound checks, meetings with his manager to go over his final approved set. He hadn’t had the chance to contact Eddie all day though he kept his phone out, screen facing up, in case the other man contacted him. Whenever he had a second, he’d check to see if there were any new messages. Nothing.

Richie stood backstage, waiting for the guy before him to finish up. He tried to call Eddie, but it went straight to voice mail. Maybe he forgot to take it off airplane mode? Peeking out at the crowd from behind the curtain, he could see the two empty seats, dead center in front of the stage and his heart sank. Where was he?

R: Eds, I’m going on in like 15 where the hell are you?

He texted him, praying nothing had happened to his friend. He paced nervously, couldn’t even hear the guy on stage or register whether or not he was getting laughs. Minutes later, his phone chimed, and his heart practically leapt from his chest.

E: I can’t make it

Was all the text said.

R: What the fuck you couldn’t have told me this earlier?

E: My life is too busy to drop everything to fly to LA for one night

R: Drop everything? You’ve known about this for weeks! You booked your flight the night I told you about it!

E: I just don’t have time for you anymore

Richie stared at the words on his screen for what felt like an eternity but couldn’t have been more than a few minutes. He startled when his manager came up behind him, slapping a hand on his shoulder with a big grin. He had two minutes. Two minutes to pull himself together and pretend like he wasn’t dying on the inside. What did he mean he didn’t have time for him? They barely spoke anymore at all. They were supposed to be best friends! How could he say such a thing and on such an important night?

Richie heard his name being announced. He pressed his phone into his managers hand, not wanting the weight of it in his pocket while on stage. Really, he was afraid he’d get another text and would be too distracted and mess up his jokes.

With a deep breath, he plastered a smile onto his face and walked onto stage, greeting the audience who halfheartedly applauded him. They didn’t know who he was, didn’t know if he’d be any good. Richie pushed everything to the back of his mind, focusing instead on the jokes and the audience before him.

“So…let’s talk about my first love.”

Eddie lay in his hospital bed, staring up at the clean white ceiling and feeling the weight of disappointment heavy on his chest. He was supposed to be in LA, in the front row, waiting. Richie would be going on any minute and he wasn’t there.

A few days prior, he found himself far more tired than normal. He would start to doze sitting at his desk, typing up reports and have to take a walk around the office to wake up. He figured he just wasn’t sleeping well, the excitement of his impending trip to LA keeping him from resting fully. Over the next few days it only seemed to get worse and Eddie actually fell asleep during a meeting. He’d never done that before. Myra had started bringing him lunch, making sure he was eating the right foods to give him energy, but nothing seemed to be helping.

The morning he was meant to fly to California, Myra told him she was worried about his fatigue. She thought he needed to go to the hospital, get some tests done to make sure he was ok. He promised he would as soon as he returned from his trip, reminding her that she could still come with him. Disapproving, she put her foot down and told him to get in the car. She was driving him to the hospital, ensuring him he’d be out by noon to catch his flight. Eddie tried to protest again, but she began listing all of the illnesses that sudden fatigue could be a symptom of, and he was putting on his coat, full of anxiety.

Their visit started with extensive questioning, checking for symptoms that Eddie, ever the hypochondriac, was sure he had. In the end, the doctor he was seeing decided to admit him for some tests just to rule anything serious out. When he changed into his hospital gown, Myra took his belongings saying she’d keep them safe. He wanted to text Richie, let him know he was in the hospital and that he may have to get a later flight. Myra, however, insisted he rest. She promised to send the text herself after the testing began.

After hours of vials of drawn blood, questioning, x-rays, more questioning, stress tests and even more questioning, Eddie finally asked how long it would be until he was released. He just about cried when his doctor informed him that he wanted to keep him under observation for at least one more night and one more day. There was concern for someone as young as he was, who was otherwise fairly healthy, to be stricken with fatigue so suddenly.

“Myra, I need my phone.” He said, returning to his room from the latest test he’d been subjected to.

“Oh, no Eddie you need your rest. You shouldn’t be worrying yourself with work or socialization. You’ll only get yourself worked up.” She responded, placing her hand on top of her purse where his phone resided.

“I’ve already missed my flight. I need to let Richie know what’s going on. You did text him this morning, right?”

“Of course, I did. He said he hopes you feel better.”

“That was it? That’s all he said?”

“Yes.”

Eddie knit his brows together in confusion. That didn’t sound like Richie. He was more likely to make a joke about him being a hypochondriac followed by a lewd joke about sponge baths.

“He didn’t…make a joke or anything? Something dumb or gross?” He asked.

“No. I…I told him it was me texting from your phone. That must be why.”

Eddie nodded. Richie didn’t really know Myra. Not that that’s stopped him before. Then again, he was about to have his first big show. Maybe he was just too nervous to crack a joke, instead focusing on his set.

“I still need to let him know I can’t come. Tell him I…I’m sorry to miss it.” Eddie’s face was a mask of sadness and disappointment.

“After lunch. I’ve already ordered you something healthy from the cafeteria.”

“Ugh, hospital food.” Eddie grimaced, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Well I’m sorry, Eddie. I’ve been here taking care of you. I couldn’t very well have gone home and made you a meal, could I? My back is so sore from sitting on this hard chair all day. I’m sacrificing so much to be here with you. I don’t suppose I should have just gone and gotten you fast food when they’re already concerned for your heart.” Myra raised her voice, working herself up.

“No, no.” Eddie soothed, holding his hands up. “It’s fine. I’ll eat what they bring me. I’m lucky to have you here with me.”

Myra calmed herself with a huff. “Yes, you are.” She responded.

After lunch, Eddie was whisked off for yet another stress test. He reached for his phone, wanting to be sure he texted Richie before he forgot. Myra shooed his hands away, promising to send the text herself.

An entire day gone, and Eddie was still in a hospital gown, propped up on several pillows behind his back. He hated hospitals, but at least they were clean. He looked from the ceiling to the clock on the wall. Richie would be preparing to go on. He hoped he wasn’t too nervous. He’d never admit it to his face, but he’d always thought Richie was funny. When he was on stage anyway. Eddie turned his head to Myra, who was sat in the corner with a book. It was clear he wasn’t going to get his phone from her until this was all over.

“I want to wish Richie luck. He’s about to go on.” He said, a tinge of sadness to his voice.

Myra pulled out his phone with an overexaggerated eyeroll, just as a text came through.

“Was that him?” He asked.

“No. It was a prescription refill reminder. Don’t worry, I took care of it already.”

Eddie nodded a thanks and Myra typed as he dictated. “Tell him, good luck on your first big show. I promise to be at the next one. Try not to offend anyone.”

Myra typed the words and sent the text off. A moment later his phone chimed.

“He says thank you.”

“Nothing else?”

“He…said he’s disappointed that you aren’t there.”

“Tell him I’m sorry. I really wanted to be there.” Eddie went back to staring at the ceiling. He wished he was there, in the front row, waiting to see that infectious smile take the stage. He’d always felt a sense of pride when others in the audience would laugh at his jokes. Now he was missing it.

His phone chimed again, and Myra wasted no time before reacting to the words he couldn’t see.

“Oh my, you’re really friends with someone who speaks to you like this?” She asked, pressing her hand to her chest dramatically.

“Why? What did he say? His sense of humor takes some getting used to.” Eddie felt the need to defend Richie.

“Well, I won’t repeat the vulgarity he sent, but he said you’re not a good friend for bailing on him. He’s angry that you let your imaginary illnesses keep you from going.”

Eddie sat up to fully look at Myra. Was Richie really angry with him? Yea, ok, maybe he was always worried about getting sick and took things a bit more seriously than others. But wasn’t it better to make sure it was nothing than to ignore it and have it be something? He thought Richie had accepted that part of him long ago. Sure, he’d tease him about it, but he’d never been angry about it. Eddie had a few choice words he wanted to fire back at him, but he knew Myra wouldn’t take it well.

“Say…that the doctors seem to think it’s real and I’ll talk to him when he’s done being a…jerk.” That’s not the word he wanted to use, but he stopped himself from calling him a douche in front of Myra. Had he been able to type the text himself there would have been a few mentions of ‘fuck you’ and ‘choke on a dick and die’.

She sent the text but nothing more came. He’d be on stage by now. Eddie was angry, hurt and full of guilt. Richie should have known that he wanted to be there, that he would have been there if he hadn’t been subjected to endless tests.

“You don’t need someone like that in your life.” Myra said.

“He’s my best friend. I don’t understand why he’s acting this way. I went to every single one of his open mic nights, even though he was basically repeating the same jokes every time. I still went, sat front row and cheered him on. He should know that I wouldn’t miss it if I didn’t have to.” The anger was evident in Eddie’s voice but there was something else there. An overwhelming sadness that he felt like he’d let down the one person who’d always been there for him.

“I’m just going to delete these messages, so you don’t have to see them and get yourself worked up again.” Myra said, tapping away at the screen.

Eddie didn’t say anything as he plopped back down onto the pillows. When he was out of the hospital and had his phone back, he’d text him again. Apologize but also let him know how much of a dick he was. He’d also inform him of whatever illness the doctors found to rub it in his face that he’d really been sick.

Richie sat at the bar, drink in hand, phone in front of his face. He reread the last words Eddie had sent him about a thousand times. Torturing himself. He knew they’d been growing apart for a while but to say he didn’t have time for him anymore was so…final. He knew he’d never have him as a lover, but now it seemed he wouldn’t even have a friend.

Richie realized he was in love in middle school. Eddie was his favorite person to banter with. The others would usually respond to his jokes with a simple ‘shut up’ or their preferred ‘beep, beep Richie’. Eddie was more likely to shoot back at him, speaking faster than humanly possible, calling him names and letting him know how dumb he thought he was. He’d always felt an overwhelming need to protect him from everything and everyone that could hurt him. Whether it was bullies, his mother or hypothetical sewer dwelling killer clowns. He was his shoulder to lean on, cry on.

It was in a moment of fear in the haunted house at the Halloween fair when it happened. Eddie grabbed his hand and refused to let go until they had made it to the other side. Richie found himself no longer scared by the masked strangers jumping from corners and he realized it wasn’t fear that was causing his heart to practically leap from his chest. It turns out, finding his best friend adorable wasn’t as platonic as he thought. It only grew from there. He became hyperaware of the other and how much skin ship they shared on a normal day. That summer, he carved their initials into the side of the kissing bridge. No matter how hard he tried, he’d never been able to get over him and he tried continuously over the years. Even tried dating a few girls. It was useless.

He always thought that if he told Eddie of his true feelings, it would drive him away. Now it looked like it didn’t matter. Eddie was always destined to outgrow him. Richie didn’t even realize he was crying until a tear dropped onto his phone’s screen. He set his drink aside and wiped at his face with his sleeve, pocketing his phone. He motioned for the bartender, indicating he was ready to close out his tab. Somewhere in the distance he could hear his manager celebrating the success of the night, hyping up his promising client to all who would listen. Richie didn’t feel much like celebrating anymore.

Eddie woke in his hospital bed, finally feeling rested. He stretched, his back popping where it had gotten tense from the unfamiliar bed. He looked to the chair and found that Myra wasn’t there, but her purse was. He stood from his bed and fished his phone from her purse. His battery was low from not being plugged in and the screen read it was almost noon.

Unlocking his phone, he immediately opened the text conversation with Richie. As promised, Myra had deleted the texts, the last one remaining from Richie telling him he could get his ticket at the door and they’d drink after the show. He was trying to decide if it was too soon to text him. It was three hours earlier in LA, Richie was likely sleeping off the drinks from the night before. Before he could decide, there was a knock at the door, his doctor letting himself in a second later.

“Mr. Kaspbrak, good morning.” He said, flipping a few papers on the clipboard in his hands.

Eddie moved back to the bed, sitting on the edge, tucking his phone beneath the blanket in case Myra came back.

“Good morning.” He returned the greeting.

“The results of the tests look good. You’re exceptionally healthy, which isn’t much of a surprise for someone your age.”

“So, I’m ok?” He asked, feeling a bit confused. “What about the fatigue?”

“Do you ever take medication to help you sleep?” The doctor answered his question with a question.

“Sometimes. I occasionally deal with insomnia.”

“Your bloodwork shows you had quite a bit of benzodiazepines in your system.”

“I…I don’t even know what that is.”

“It’s a kind of medication used for sleeping pills and muscle relaxers. Luckily, you aren’t showing any signs of an overdose.”

“W-what? How do you know? What if you missed it?”

“There’s a reason we ran all of those tests Mr. Kaspbrak. How often would you say you’re using these meds to help you sleep? Were they prescribed?” He asked, lifting his pen to the clipboard.

“They were prescribed by my general physician. I haven’t taken one in a long time though. I mostly used them when I first moved to the city.”

He had been writing something on the papers clipped to the board when he stopped and looked up at him, his eyebrows raised.

“How long has it been since you used this medication?”

Eddie thought back. He’d already been in New York for more than a year. The last time he could remember actually needing the pills was when Myra had stayed too late and didn’t want to go home. She kept kicking him in her sleep and tossing and turning. He thought she’d be mad if she woke up and found him on the couch, so he’d turned to the sleeping pills. He’d only taken half a dose, knowing that he had a hard time waking in the morning if he took a full dose.

“It’s been at least four months.” Eddie finally answered.

The doctor set his clipboard on the arm of the chair beside him. The look on his face only spiked Eddie’s anxiety higher. Why did he look so concerned?

“Can you confirm for me what medication you’ve had prescribed to you?” He asked.

“Ambien.” He blurted out.

“Ambien usually leaves your system in around 16 hours. There’s no way it would still be present in your system after four months.”

“I…I don’t understand.”

“Is the woman whose been staying with you your wife?” He asked, sitting in the chair and pulling it closer to the bed.

“No. My girlfriend.”

“Do you live together?”

“No.”

“Does she cook for you?”

“She brings me lunch every day at work to make sure I get a healthy meal.”

The doctor was silent for a moment, watching Eddie who was fidgeting anxiously, pulling at a loose string on the hem of his hospital gown.

“Do you have any reason to believe she would be putting the Ambien into your food?” He asked, effectively knocking the air from his lungs.

“N-no…she…she wouldn’t do that. She loves me. She takes care of me. She…” Eddie trailed off. She really hadn’t wanted him to go to LA for the weekend. She kept trying to talk him out of it, trying to trigger his anxieties about flying. He still insisted he had to go. His mother spent the entirety of his childhood convincing him he was sick, medicating him when he didn’t need it to keep him under her control. To make him need her.

Eddie stood and retrieved Myra’s purse. Sifting through the various items she kept in the large bag, he finally found an orange pill bottle at the bottom inside a zip lock bag. It was his prescription. His hands shook as he pulled the bottle from the bag and he turned back to the doctor.

“I think it’s important that you speak to one of our councilors. Maybe with your girlfriend.” His doctors voice cut through his thoughts.

“No…no I don’t need it. I…I’ll be fine. I just…can I be released today? I need to get out of here.”

“If you’re sure, I can get a nurse working on your release papers.” He stood and walked to the door, pausing to look back at Eddie. “If you change your mind, you can always come back to one of our onsite therapists.”

Eddie nodded and with that he left. He was sure the doctor was coming to tell him he was sick, not that he suspected he was being drugged by his girlfriend. Eddie stood and busied himself getting dressed and gathering his things. He felt like the breath had been knocked from his lungs and he was moving on autopilot.

His phone chimed from beneath the blanket where he’d left it. He stopped what he was doing and grabbed it, surprised to see the notification was from Richie.

R: Look, Eds, I don’t know what’s going on with you right now, but I can’t live without you. Don’t say you’re done with me.

Eddie’s head cleared a bit from the shock and was replace with confusion. Wasn’t he the one who was mad at him?

E: What the hell are you talking about?

R: I know you’re busy. It’s ok that you had to work. You can try to come next time. I’ll set a ticket aside for you for every show. Just tell me you still have time for me

E: Are you drunk?

It took a minute for Richie to reply this time. It was early, even earlier in LA, there’s no way he’d be drunk already, right? He wanted to believe it wasn’t true, but Richie only got like this when he’d been drinking. Vulnerable, honest, not hiding behind jokes.

R: Maybe. I drank a lot last night. All night. Didn’t sleep.

E: Make yourself some coffee and explain to me what you’re talking about. I’m still in the hospital.

R: Hospital? What the fuck why didn’t you tell me?

E: Myra told you yesterday. Did you seriously forget?

R: What? No, she didn’t. I didn’t talk to Myra.

E: She was texting you from my phone.

Again, silence. Eddie saw the typing bubbles pop up and disappear several times, making him anxious, before a picture was sent instead. It was a screenshot of a text conversation. Confused, Eddie sat in one of the chairs at the small table and tapped the image to enlarge it.

R: Eds, I’m going on in like 15 where the hell are you?

E: I can’t make it

R: What the fuck you couldn’t have told me this earlier?

E: My life is too busy to drop everything to fly to LA for one night

R: Drop everything? You’ve known about this for weeks! You booked your flight the night I told you about it!

E: I just don’t have time for you anymore

Eddie’s breath caught in his chest as he read over the heartless messages. The messages that made Richie believe he didn’t want him around anymore. The message sent and deleted by Myra.

E: That wasn’t me

R: I gathered that when you said Myra was texting me. Eddie, are you ok?

E: I think…she drugged me to make me think I was sick so I couldn’t go.

R: What the fuck!

E: Richie, I don’t know what to do.

Eddie’s hands shook as he waited for a response. This shouldn’t be happening. He should be in LA with Richie. He should be waking with a hangover, Richie beside him passed out fully clothes still wearing his shoes like so many times before. He had begun to think he didn’t need Richie as much as he did before, but he was wrong. He was the only one he could really trust.

R: My flight leaves in 2 hours. It was the soonest I could get. It’s about 5 and a half hours to get there. Maybe don’t go home with her.

E: You’re coming here?

R: Of course. I can’t leave you alone with that psycho bitch, can I?

E: Thanks Richie

R: Anything for you, Eddie Spaghetti

Eddie smiled at the old familiar nickname he hadn’t heard in so long. He used to hate it but now it gave him a warm, comforted feeling. He locked his phone and pocketed it. He turned back to survey the room, checking to make sure he had everything, when the door opened behind him. He turned to see Myra with a coffee in her hand and a smile on her face.

“Good, you’re awake. I looked everywhere to find you coffee that didn’t come from a vending machine.” She held the coffee out to him, but he made no move to take it, so she set it down on the table beside his bed. “What’s wrong? You look sick. Maybe you should-.”

“No. I’m not sick I…they found Ambien in my system. It’s what’s been making me so tired.” His voice was flat, not wanting to give away just yet that he knew what she did.

“I didn’t know you were taking Ambien! You have to be careful with that stuff, Eddie.”

“The funny thing is, I haven’t taken it in over four months.”

Myra was silent for a moment, her smile still plastered on her face. She didn’t know Eddie suspected her for anything. She had to tread carefully.

“Maybe you just forgot. You take so many medications, it’s easy to forget what they all are. Here, sit, drink your coffee and relax. I’m told you get to go home soon.”

“I don’t want the coffee. You can have it.”

“But I brought it for you.”

“What’s in it?” He asked, giving her a look that he hoped showed her that he knew.

“J-just almond milk.”

“Nothing else?”

She forced a laugh. “Of course not. I know you don’t take sugar in your coffee.”

“What about Ambien?” He asked, pulling the pill bottle from his jacket pocket for her to see.

Her smile fell away and was immediately replaced with a frown, the tears turning on like a faucet. In the past, Eddie had given in to her when she pulled this, but this was not the woman he thought he knew. He didn’t feel safe with her anymore.

“What are you accusing me of? You know I love you! I take care of you, don’t I? You know me, Eddie.” She sobbed, covering her face with her hands and collapsing into the chair behind her.

“Do I?” He asked, causing her to look up at him. This wasn’t his typical response and she was thrown off guard. “What did you text Richie yesterday?”

“Exactly what you told me to.”

“So, you didn’t tell him I don’t have time for him anymore?”

“Of course not!”

“He sent me a screenshot of the texts.”

“Those can be faked! He probably just made it up to break us up! He’s never liked me! He-.”

“Myra!” Eddie snapped, not wanting to hear her put him down to save her own ass.

At his shout, her façade broke and the tears were replaced with anger. This, he thought, was her actual self. Not fake tears used to manipulate him. Just an angry woman, fighting to keep her control over the man standing before her.

“He’s not good enough for you, Eddie. He’s a bad influence. You can make better friends.” She said, standing again.

Eddie’s memories flashed back to his mother saying the same things. He was so relieved to escape her when he went to college, promised he’d never let her control him again. Now here he was dating a woman who was just like her.

“He’s the most important person to me on the planet.” Eddie shot back, ignoring her claims.

“He’s going to corrupt you! Why can’t you see that?!”

“What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?” He asked, throwing his hands up in annoyance.

“That is what I mean! You never talk like that.”

“Yes, I do! I just don’t in front of you.” Eddie took a breath to steady himself. The last thing they needed was security being called because of all the shouting. “I don’t understand why you’d do this to me.” He said, though that wasn’t entirely true.

Myra was back to crying, tears sliding down her face, hands balled into fists at her sides. Eddie wondered if he should have her escorted out. Give him a chance to get away from her. Luckily, they hadn’t moved in together yet, but she did have a key to his apartment. He’d have to contact his landlord, get the locks changed.

“I only did it because I love you, Eddie.” She said, shaking.

“You don’t love me. If you loved me, you wouldn’t try to take Richie away from me. You wouldn’t have drugged me!”

“I did it to protect our love! He doesn’t like me. He didn’t want you with me, I could tell.”

“You’ve never really met him. Once over facetime.” Eddie suddenly felt exhausted again and wondered if she’d slipped him anymore Ambien without him knowing.

“You were always choosing him over me. He’s trying to steal you away from me.”

“He’s my best friend.”

“Don’t be stupid, Eddie.” The tears had stopped again, like she couldn’t remember to keep them flowing. “He’s in love with you. You think I couldn’t tell from those flirtatious jokes I always overheard when you spoke to him?”

“What are you talking about? Richie’s not…” Eddie didn’t finish his sentence. Was Richie in love with him?

“Didn’t you tell me that your girlfriends in college always broke up with you because they hated him?”

“Yea, but that doesn’t mean-.”

“You said they didn’t like him hanging around all the time. Why was he always there Eddie? Why didn’t he ever give you space to be alone with your girlfriend?”

“He was…he was just…” Eddie couldn’t find the words he needed as memories of the last twenty years flooded his mind. They were close. They’d always been close. They were comfortable with each other. Was it not normal to hold your best friend’s hand or cuddle together while watching a movie? There were a few times in college when he’d been asked what their relationship was, but he’d never thought anything of it.

He thought back to the way Richie behaved around his girlfriends. He’d sit between them on the couch, force his way in, hug him from behind during casual conversation, direct the conversation to events only the two of them would be able to speak about. Staking his claim. Showing them that he was the most important person in his life, that he would win. That’s what it was, wasn’t it? Eddie was oblivious, let it happen, enjoyed it even. What were his feelings for Richie then?

“See. You know. He’s not your friend. He’s been ruining all of your relationships on purpose. Those texts, they’re fake. He’s lying to make you leave me.”

Eddie hadn’t been looking at her as he pieced together far away memories. He now turned to look at her. She wasn’t even trying to look sorry anymore. She just looked angry, determined maybe.

“Richie Tozier is a terrible comedian. He doesn’t know how to handle emotional situations and deflects with jokes. He’s clingy and needy and unbelievably annoying. He teases me endlessly, makes jokes about fucking my mom on a daily basis, but he wouldn’t lie to me. He’s never lied to me.”

“Eddie…”

“You need to leave.”

Myra had taken a step forward, but she stopped, looked as if she’d been struck. Her bottom lip began to quiver as if she was going to cry again but that quickly fell away back to anger. She couldn’t keep up her act when she was so furious with the situation. She pointed her finger in his face, close enough to make him take a step back.

“You NEED me Eddie Kaspbrak. He can’t take care of you like I can.” She practically growled.

“He wouldn’t drug me to trick me into staying with him.” Her mouth dropped open as if she was going to say something but couldn’t find the words. “Leave.” He said again, pointing to the door.

Momentarily defeated, Myra gathered her coat and purse and stomped to the door. She turned back to look at him one last time as she ripped the door open. Then she was gone, yelling down the hall of how he’d come crawling back to her. Eddie let out a sigh of relief, feeling overwhelmed.

He’d just taken a seat, trying to calm himself, his head in his hands, when a nurse came into the room with release papers for him to sign. He took the papers from her and signed quickly, wanting to get out of there as quickly as possible. He didn’t have his car. Myra had driven him there the day before. He sat on the curb, exhausted, and called for a cab. He didn’t know where to go from here. What did he do with this new information that his best friend was actually in love with him?

By the time the cab arrived, he’d worked himself up again. He had maybe six hours or so to figure things out. He hoped he’d be able to think more clearly when he was in his own home, in the quiet. He needed time to really sit down and think about their friendship. He loved him, he didn’t doubt that. He was his best friend, of course he loved him. Just…how much?

With his last-minute ticket purchased, Richie set to work cleaning himself up. His original plan was to be gone within the hour, in the clothes he’d worn the day before, reeking of alcohol. Since he couldn’t get an early enough flight, the idea of a shower was becoming more and more appealing. After all, if he showed up like this there would definitely be complaints from Eddie. He wouldn’t touch him until he bathed, and he wanted to be able to hug him as soon as he arrived.

His shower was quick, just enough time to wash his hair and properly scrub the smell from his skin. He probably needed to take clothes, right? He didn’t honestly know how long he’d be gone. Maybe he should text his manager. Let him know he had to go out of town.

R: Have to go to New York. Family emergency. Will update.

He sent it off quickly while grabbing a duffle bag from his closet. He haphazardly threw some jeans and button up tees from his closet into the bag, barely remembering to remove the hangers. Going to his dresser he grabbed and armful of socks and underwear and dropped them in, grabbing about half his t-shirts last. The duffle bag put up a fight when he tried to zip it, but he won in the end.

Toiletries could be purchased. He didn’t have anymore time to waste with LA traffic being what it was. The last thing he needed was to miss his flight. He’d already put a hefty charge on his credit card for the last-minute airfare. Hell, he was living out of a hotel room. He was supposed to be saving for an apartment. So much for that.

The cab ride was more money he didn’t need to be spending but it didn’t even cross his mind. His priority was getting to Eddie as quickly as possible. He miraculously arrived with enough time to check his bag, make it to his gate and sit for a few minutes to catch his breath.

Pulling his phone from his jacket pocket, he ignored the three texts his manager had sent him and opened the conversation with Eddie instead.

R: My flight is boarding soon. Have to put my phone on airplane mode. You ok?

E: I’m at home now. Alone.

Richie was relieved. He really didn’t know much about Myra other than what Eddie had told him in passing. He wasn’t sure how easy it would be for Eddie to break free from her and how desperately she’d hold onto him. He still expected a bit of a fight when he got there. Almost hoped he’d get to give her a piece of his mind for what he’d done to Eddie.

As Richie was switching his phone to airplane mode, another text came through.

E: Should I pick you up from the airport?

R: My flight gets in around 8. You still going to be up, grandpa?

E: Haha hilarious. I’m an old man because I believe in going to bed early and getting a solid 8 hours. Find your own way here jackass.

R: So, you’ll be here right?

E: Duh

Richie smiled, tapped the airplane mode icon on his screen and put his phone back in his pocket. The excitement he felt as he boarded the plane and took his seat, was a feeling he hadn’t had in years. Tonight, he’d be with his best friend, the love of his life and nothing could make him happier than seeing that dorky smile directed at him when he arrived.

Eddie set down his phone, feeling anxious. He hadn’t seen Richie in a while. Almost a year. He was supposed to see him yesterday and had been excited, but he’d also been distracted with the fatigue. Now he was wide awake and too aware of the fact that soon he’d be face to face with his best friend. His friend who might be in love with him. His friend who he might have feelings for as well.

He set about tidying the apartment. Not that there was much to be done. He already kept it immaculately clean. After about an hour of scrubbing every surface until it practically shined, he realized just how hungry he was. He hadn’t eaten since he woke up. Going to his fridge, he scanned over everything and wondered if it was safe to eat. Myra spent a lot of time at his place and had access when he wasn’t home.

Grabbing his phone, he ordered something for delivery and grabbed a trash bag from the pantry. It was a waste to throw out so much food, but he didn’t trust any of it. Anything that was opened, anything that she could have resealed, it all had to go. By the time his food arrived he had two trash bags full of food. One from the fridge, one from the cabinets and pantry. In the end all he had left was canned goods, a pack of taco seasoning and a carton of eggs.

He sat at the counter and ate, staring at the clock. He’d only managed to pass two hours. There were still four hours before his flight was supposed to arrive. What was he supposed to do until then? He’d taken time off work to go to LA, so he didn’t have work to distract him. He’d intentionally left everything at the office, not wanting the temptation to take it on the plane with him. Now all he had to distract him was flipping through channels, settling on a cheesy buddy cop movie. Four hours. He could survive that much longer, right?

Richie turned his phone back on as soon as they landed. He sent a short text, letting Eddie know he was there. He felt impatient as he filed off the airplane and made his way through the airport to the baggage claim. His bag, nearly busting at the seams, was one of the last to come through. He grabbed it and made his way out to the street where a long line of cars sat, there to pickup passengers. Richie’s stomach did a little flip when he looked down the line and saw Eddie, standing on the sidewalk beside his car.

Almost a year had gone by since he’d last seen that face in person. His legs were moving before he could even think about it. All he knew was he needed that man in his arms immediately. As he grew close, he dropped his bag on the ground, Eddie meeting him halfway in a tight embrace. Whenever they hugged, Richie had this habit of cradling the back of his head with one hand. It always felt a bit protective to Eddie. He didn’t mind it. It was comforting after all he’d been through the last two days.

Pulling back, Richie cupped Eddie’s face between his hands, turning his head from side to side to assess his features.

“Yea, I don’t know Eds. You don’t look like someone who’s been drugged for a week. You sure you weren’t faking?” He asked.

Eddie slapped his hands away, looking less than amused. “Shut the fuck up, asshole. Grab your bag and get in the fucking car.”

Richie grinned as he grabbed his bag off the pavement, watching Eddie walk around to the driver’s side door. Richie climbed in the passenger’s side and tossed his bag in the backseat. Now that they were alone in a small space, things felt slightly awkward. It wasn’t supposed to be like this for them. They were best friends since such a young age, no one knew the other better. Now it felt like strangers sharing a ride, waiting for it to be over.

“How was your show?” Eddie asked, breaking the tense silence.

“It was good. Despite what you seem to think, people do find me funny. Got a few numbers after the show too.”

“Don’t tell me you have groupies already.”

“What can I say, Eds. I crack a few jokes and the ladies come running.”

“That’s not the way I remember it in high school and college.” Eddie said with an eye roll. “Are you going to call any of them?”

Richie wanted to say that he threw away the slips of paper and napkins when he got home. Didn’t even bother putting them in his phone. But he was here for Eddie, not to weigh him down with more problems. The last thing he needed was to know his best friend had been secretly in love with him for fourteen years. Not yet.

“Probably. Maybe they’ll post about me on twitter. Talk about the amazing and handsome comedian they got to screw, make me even more popular.” He joked, his smile looking halfhearted.

They chatted about his show, Richie reciting a few of his jokes to make Eddie laugh. He did laugh at most, but some he lightheartedly heckled Richie for. They were finally starting to feel comfortable, normal. Just the way they’d always been.

When they arrived at the apartment, Eddie went immediately to his room to retrieve something. Richie dropped his bag in the living room by the couch and walked around to take in the décor. It had changed quite a bit in a year. There was some art on the walls, a vase full of dying flowers on the small table in the kitchen. There were magnets on the fridge shaped like balloons, organized in the order of a rainbow. Richie knocked one slightly sideways with his finger, wondering how long it would be before Eddie noticed.

Eddie followed him into the kitchen a moment later, a gift bag in his hands. Richie turned to him, his heart skipping a beat as it hit him again that he was here. With Eddie.

“This place is ridiculously clean. Were you planning to perform surgery on your kitchen table tonight?” Richie asked, grinning.

“I like to think that emergency surgery could be performed on my kitchen table, thank you.” Eddie snapped back, holding out the bag. “This is for you.”

“You…got me a present?” Richie asked, taking the bag and setting it on the small island in the center of the room.

“I was going to give it to you in LA.” Eddie shrugged, suddenly embarrassed.

Richie reached into the bag, his hand touching something cold, glass and heavy. He gently scooped it up from the bottom and lifted it out of the bag, tissue paper falling to the floor. What he held in his hand was a snow globe. Inside was a picture of them from the summer they were thirteen. They had their arms around each other, big smiles on their faces. Bev had taken that picture. Above the picture was a dotted line that curled into a heart in the middle and connected LA and New York. Below is said “Don’t Forget Me”.

He wouldn’t admit it, but Richie was really touched by the gift. He’d thought that Eddie didn’t care about him as much as he used to since he had a girlfriend and seemed happy before all of this. This proved that he had thought about him, missed him.

“Wow, Eds.” He said, shaking the snow globe and watching the colorful glitter fall down around their smiling faces. “A snow globe. Really?” He chuckled.

Eddie shrugged. “It was that or a coffee mug and I thought that was…”

“Too couple-like?” Richie asked.

Eddie shrugged again. He felt uncomfortable. When he’d passed by the shop that made customized gifts, he’d thought it was a good idea. After consulting the woman behind the counter, they agreed that a snow globe was probably best. He’d gone to Bev’s Facebook to find the old photo and emailed it to the store. When he’d picked it up and actually saw it in person, he’d thought that maybe it was a bad idea. Now, he realized, Richie really did like it. He could bullshit all he wanted, but Eddie could read him like a book.

“Thanks.” Richie said, placing it back in the bag. “I hope it survives the plane ride back to LA.”

Eddie knew that eventually Richie would return to LA. He’d only come to New York to make sure he was ok. Once he was sure Myra wouldn’t come around, he’d leave again. Still, he hadn’t been thinking about that until Richie said it.

“I have bubble wrap.” Eddie said, his voice quiet.

“Of course you do.” Richie grinned, wondering how many times Eddie had rolled his eyes since they met at the airport. “Well, I’m starving. Maybe we should eat before we start Myra proofing your place.”

Eddie sighed. Richie had said during the car ride that he thought Eddie should set up some security measures in case Myra came back. He still wasn’t sure if he was serious.

“Unless you want to eat eggs and tomato soup with taco seasoning, we have to order something.” Eddie said, going to the fridge and opening it to show its emptiness.

“Jeez Eddie. Don’t you ever eat?”

“I had to throw most of it out. I didn’t know if she had tampered with any of it. Better safe than…” Eddie trailed off.

Richie took a seat on one of the stools beside the island, leaning against the countertop. He watched as Eddie closed the fridge, looking like he needed a drink. Richie could definitely provide the drink, but before that…

“Are you ok?” He asked, letting the concern for the other man take over.

Eddie looked at him, moving to lean against the other side of the island with his hip. He crossed his arms and turned his gaze to the ground.

“I just can’t believe I ended up with someone just like…just like…”

“Your mom?”

Eddie nodded. “She could have killed me, Rich. If she’d given me too much, I could have died.”

“But you didn’t.”

“What if I hadn’t realized she was drugging me? I would still be with her. Who knows what else she would have done. It’s like I can’t trust anyone.”

“Except…”

“Except you.” Eddie rolled his eyes again. “But you’re in LA. You can’t protect me anymore.”

Richie looked down at his hands. At the time, moving to LA had seemed like such a good idea. Now he regretted it. He wanted to be here, with Eddie, but he couldn’t just walk away from everything now. He’d dropped out of college for this. He was doing well. His manager really thought he could turn this into a successful career.

“You could come to LA.” Richie suggested, though that felt selfish.

“I can’t. Earthquakes.”

Richie nodded and chuckled. “Right.”

“I would like to visit each other more often. I mean, this is the first time in a year that we’ve seen each other. You could come here when you’re free, I can go to see some of your shows when I can get the time. We don’t have to be so far apart.”

Richie agreed, but it wasn’t enough. He didn’t want to see him a few times a year. He wanted him year-round. Just like before. Richie pushed that thought down and reminded Eddie that he needed food. They agreed on pizza and settled onto the couch to find a movie to watch while they ate. Eddie didn’t usually eat in the living room and made it clear that he would kill Richie if he spilled anything.

They ate together, didn’t really watch the movie, deciding talking to each other was more appealing. They still had so much to catch up on. After they’d eaten, Richie suggested going to get a drink. Eddie went to the hall closet and pulled a bottle of whiskey from a bag marked ‘laundry’. Richie raised his eyebrows at him as he walked back over with it.

“Had to hide it from Myra.” Eddie answered his unasked question.

And so, they drank, and talked and laughed. Richie took a picture of the two of them and sent it to Bev who’d been texting to congratulate him on his show. They reminisced about childhood with their friends, wishing the five of them were there with them. Bev had responded with a picture of her and Ben. Everyone knew they’d end up together when they were young. He was so in love with her it was almost gross. They joked about how smitten he’d been. They talked about college, stories from when they were roommates.

“Do you think you’ll ever go back? Finish what you started?” Eddie asked, tilting her head against the back of the couch.

“I don’t know.” Richie poured more whiskey over his ice before sitting back against the pillows. “Maybe if I fail at this I will.”

“I still don’t understand why you didn’t just finish first. Couldn’t it have waited just a few more months?”

“Yea. It could have. My manager even asked if I wanted to graduate before I left.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

Richie shrugged. “I was lonely. I didn’t want to be there anymore. The only reason to finish was so I could find a job out here.”

“You can be a comedian in New York.”

Richie swirled his drink around, watching the ice clink against the sides of the glass. He’d thought of that before going to LA. He just wasn’t sure he wanted to admit why he’d chosen LA. Didn’t want to tell Eddie that he’d been given the option to choose New York.

“What about you? You really enjoy looking for risks in everything?” Richie asked, cracking a smile. “What do you guys talk about at office parties? Do you just sit around a table discussing all the risks involved with office parties?”

“Richie.”

He put on an exaggerated voice before speaking again. “Just think, if we had alcohol here everyone would get drunk and Larry would end up fucking his secretary on the copy machine.”

“Richie.”

“Those party hats really are dangerous. You could put an eye out with those sharp points. Can’t have that.”

“Beep, beep Richie.” Eddie said, his friend finally falling silent, still looking down at his drink.

Richie sighed and drained his drink in one go. “I didn’t…want to come to New York.” He admitted.

“Why not?”

“Because you were here.”

Eddie didn’t know what to say to that, but that was fine because Richie wasn’t done.

“You built your own life here. Met a girl. You sounded happy. I didn’t want to ruin it. You didn’t need me anymore.” He said, setting his glass on the table.

“Clearly I did.”

“If I had known she was going to be like your mom, I would have driven her away.”

“Like the girls in college?”

Richie opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. That was a first. He couldn’t look at Eddie, but Eddie was looking at him. Watching his face as a series of emotions passed over his features. Eddie waited, he wanted him to say something. Deny it or admit to it. He had to choose one.

“They were no good for you. I had to protect you.” Richie finally said, reaching again for the bottle of whiskey to fill his glass.

“From what?”

“Being taken advantage of.”

Eddie scoffed. “I wouldn’t have been-.”

“Myra?”

“That’s different. They weren’t all like that.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yea because I never got the chance to know them. Because someone scared them away before I could.”

“And the one time I couldn’t, look what happened.”

Eddie didn’t want to fight. Didn’t want to get angry. The last few days had been absolute shit. They were finally back together, and Eddie wouldn’t argue with him. He didn’t know how long he had him here and he wanted to enjoy every second. Not spend it like this.

“I don’t want to argue with you, Richie. That’s not why I brought it up.” Eddie said, snatching the bottle from Richie to fill his own glass.

“Then why did you?” Richie lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He suddenly felt exhausted, like he needed to sleep for the next twenty-four hours.

“Because I…I wanted to know…” Richie turned his head slightly to look at him from his peripheral as he took a deep breath. “Richie, do you love me?” He asked, shocking himself. That’s not how he’d meant to ask but now there it was. Out on the table.

“You’re my best friend, Eds.” Richie responded quickly, like he’d had that ready in his back pocket all these years in case he asked.

“I know, but do you love me as more than just a best friend?”

Richie licked his lips, his face a mask of panic. “You…you mean like a stepson?” He asked, trying desperately to end the conversation with a joke.

It was very forced, but Richie was desperate. He chanted in his head for Eddie to just punch him in the arm and call him an asshole. Treat everything as a joke. Move past it. He wasn’t ready for this. Ready for their friendship to change. If Eddie knew how he felt, everything would change. Their closeness would change. He didn’t want that.

Eddie didn’t know what to say. His instinct was to tell him off for ruining the mood with a joke, but he didn’t want things to end that way yet again. Every time they tried to have a serious conversation this happened when Richie began to feel uncomfortable. Eddie wouldn’t give in this time. Wouldn’t let him end this conversation before he got the answers he needed.

He’d spent the entire day waiting for him just remembering how he made him feel. He’d never considered Richie as an option because he was sure he wasn’t an option for Richie. He’d always known that Richie was attractive. He’d admired his looks more than once over the years. He relished in the way the other would touch him. The closeness that they didn’t have with the rest of the group. It made him feel special. Made him feel…loved. When he’d started dating Myra, that’s the feeling he was chasing. The feeling of being with Richie.

Several minutes had passed since either had spoken and Richie was beginning to worry, he’d really pissed Eddie off. When he turned to look at him, his face was scrunched up in anger, which he’d expected, but he hadn’t expected the tears in his eyes.

“Eddie…” Richie began, but stopped when Eddie put his hand up.

“I needed you. All my life I have needed you. Only you. I wanted you to come to New York so we could be together.” He sniffled and wiped at a tear that slid down his cheek. “Myra wanted to move in. I told her I wasn’t ready, but I was really just holding out hope that you’d change your mind. I was saving that spot for you. I didn’t know what would happen with her when you arrived because you were the one I wanted to spend my free time with. Not her.”

“Eddie, I-.”

“No. I’ve listened to you talk and I’m done. I don’t want to see you just a few times a year. I don’t want to only see you over facetime. I want you here. Damnit Richie, I love you and I want you here with me.”

Richie inhaled sharply, caught off guard by the sudden confession. He had never known what Eddie was thinking about him. He didn’t think Eddie had even known what he was thinking about him until now. Years of denial, years of hiding his true feelings, years of saying it was just because they were best friends. All of it seemed to melt away as Richie stared at the crying face of the man he loved and finally gave into the urge he’d had since he was thirteen.

Grabbing Eddie’s face between his hands, he pulled him closer and pressed their lips together. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the 20 years of repressed feelings. Whatever it was fueling their first kiss, it was all coming out at once.

Eddie’s fingers gripped the front of Richie’s stupid graphic tee, wrinkling the fabric as he tried to pull him closer. Once in high school, Eddie had wondered what it would be like to kiss Richie. His lips always looked so soft and kissing him would be an effective way to shut him up. He’d immediately shook that thought away at the time, but had he known just how addicting kissing him was, he would have done so right then in the club house.

By the time their heads cleared enough to realize what was happening, and they had the afterthought to take a break to catch their breath, Eddie had found himself on Richie’s lap. Part of his brain told him to be embarrassed, but this was Richie. This wasn’t the first time they’d ended up in “compromising” positions, just the first time it involved kissing.

“How long have you waited to do that?” Eddie asked, his chest heaving as he fought to catch his breath.

“Too long.” Richie responded, resting his forehead against Eddie’s shoulder. “I love you.”

Eddie already knew, but the shock of hearing the words come from Richie’s mouth was enough to make him want to cry again. He bit his bottom lip and wrapped his arms around Richie’s back, lowering his own head to Richie’s shoulder. Richie’s arms held him tight, like he was afraid he’d disappear if he let go.

They both knew that they still had to talk. Richie was supposed to go back to LA, Eddie had to stay here. Those weren’t the best circumstances to build a relationship upon. For now, they chose to ignore those nagging thoughts. They ignored it when Richie could no longer keep his lips to himself. They ignored it when he scooped Eddie up in his arms and carried him back to the bedroom. They ignored it as they held each other, kissing and touching and whispering words of love until they fell asleep.

The next day, they would continue to avoid the subject, even as Eddie searched online for a job in his field in LA. Even when Richie finally responded to his manager, asking if he could move to New York and continue building his career there. It had taken 20 years, a lot of denial and a trip to the hospital for them to find their way to each other. They weren’t about to let it go now.

#It #it (2017)#it (2019)#reddie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #Ro writes

4 notes · View notes