#how actually he picked up all his horrible habits directly from her
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
goro and his mother. rambling about the featherman, probably.
#persona 5 royal#persona 5#goro akechi#mamakechi#goro akechi and his mother#firm believer that she really wasn't as good of a mother as goro remembers her to be#he remembers her through the eyes of a child and overlooks how she wasn't too interested in his rambles ever#or how she was constantly smoking and/or cursing#how actually he picked up all his horrible habits directly from her#cant be helped
529 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Locked Tomb Reaction - The Unwanted Guest
it’s taken a while, but finally I’ve been able to get around to liveblogging this! my understanding is that The Unwanted Guest takes place in that period of time where Palamedes is ousting Ianthe from Naberius’s body? so i’m intrigued to see what actually happens, as well as how Muir writes in a new theatre-play format
‘kissing or feeding; we can’t be sure’ haha what the fuck. we’re really going in right off the bat with the surrealist horror here. i had a feeling that Ianthe’s mindscape might be a disturbing place, and apparently i was right
ok so i’m willing to suspend my disbelief that this is just a description for the reader to understand the concept but … does either Palamedes or Ianthe’s subconscious know what a 20th century English butler is?
ohhh my god Ianthe’s in a French maid costume, is this because Palamedes considers it sexy. this is so cursed. once again suspension of disbelief, but do either of these characters know what France is?
i am very much enjoying the dynamic between the two of them here, especially how unimpressed Palamedes is with, well, everything Ianthe
oooh okay thats intriguing, there’s another person’s voice here. my first instinct is that it’s Camilla, given Palamedes is currently in her body
wow Palamedes’ immediate response to a game of essentially 20 questions is to immediately get philosophical and start a debate about whether the soul can be changed. he sounds like the kind of person who would be absolute hell to play Scrabble or Trivial Pursuit against
what they’re talking about here is very interesting though. i like the little glimpses we get, primarily through the Sixth and the Fifth, about what academia and science looks like in a world with necromancy. whether the soul can be changed is kind of a big hypothetical in the real world, but in TLT where you can literally summon or ‘consume’ a person’s soul it would be much more directly relevant
also a very interesting point (at least what I think he’s saying?) from Palamedes here that just because the Lyctors lived for 10,000 years doesn’t necessarily mean that the thanergy powering them is perpetual, it could just be declining very very slowly
okay so the Voice just started talking about ‘Camilla’s idea’, so presumably not her unless she’s talking about herself in third person? it could theoretically just be Palamedes debating with himself?
Palamedes briefly trying to play bad cop/Ace Attorney and intimidate Ianthe is hilarious
Ianthe’s insistence that she didn’t murder Naberius because it was his job to die for her anyway is an … interesting perspective
‘she and I both understand that the goal is always worth the cost’ ngl i think Harrow herself would have something to say about that, given she literally gave herself a Claire’s lobotomy in the hope of saving Gideon. it wasn’t so much Harrow who decided that Lyctorhood was worth defeating Cytherea, but Gideon deciding for her
once again i feel horribly bad for Naberius Tern, whose worst crime was pretty much just being an asshole
hah has Palamedes picked up a cigarette habit from Pyrrha. i’m enjoying the insight into his thought process here given that he generally comes off as knowing more than other people all the time, so it’s nice to see him actually in the process of figuring stuff out
‘She wandered around like she was the protagonist’ HAH Ianthe i have bad news for you
aww it’s sweet to get Pal’s view on Gideon here, namely that he thinks she’s smarter than even she gives herself credit for and that he was initially jealous of her dynamic with ‘Dulcinea’ but came to like her anyways
‘My problem was reminding myself you were a child’ ohhh my god the mysterious voice is Dulcinea! i can’t believe this is literally the only time we’ve seen Pal and Dulcinea actually interact. and isn't this possibly the first time that they've had an 'in person' (so to speak) interaction since most of their relationship was sending letters to each other?? oh i am not okay
okayy i’m interested in what Dulcinea’s saying here about how she seems to have died again and ‘something awful’ happened to her soul … it doesn’t seem to totally line up with what happened at the end of HtN, especially with her mention that there are two shores on the River. again everything seems to point to the nature of the River playing a big part in AtN
woooh Magnus Quinn reference, my beloved
oooh i love the contrast between Ianthe’s descriptions of her relationships with Corona and Babs - despite Babs being the one who was actually the cavalier, the kind of co-dependent relationship she has with Corona is much closer to the relationship between the other cavaliers and their necromancers. which is why the fact that she’s apparently the only Lyctor to outright murder their cavalier vs her admission that she wouldn’t have used Corona is very interesting to me
‘Coronabeth herself is part of your goal’ i’m very interested in the long-term goal of Ianthe in general. obviously one part was becoming a Lyctor, but i do wonder if she has something else planned, i doubt she’s content to just sort of do what John wants her to do forever
‘Jeannemary Chatur regaled me with the story at breakfast’ woooh Jeannemary reference. also this is such a cute detail
ooooh Palamedes's newfound cigarette habit is from Ianthe not Pyrrha, that's very fun
and Palamedes’ final point here that the soul is permeable is not just very satisfying against Ianthe’s general smugness, but has very interesting implications for all of the Lyctor characters, especially the fact that their titles are named after their cavaliers. for example, how much of Mercy’s devotion originally came from her versus the fact that Christabel pre-Res was a literal nun. and what does it mean for John and Alecto exactly - how much of the same person, or even human, is he after literally eating the soul of a planet
ok this isn’t to do with the Unwanted Guest exactly but i am very concerned by the notice at the very end that ‘Hell Will Break Loose’ in AtN. it already sounds ominous enough without considering that the previous notice, ‘Gideon will return’ at the end of HtN was done in the most painful way possible
overall i really enjoyed this! what i really like about the additional short stories Muir writes for TLT is that you get to see little character moments and explore bits of the lore that would have dragged the main story down a bit, so it was very fun to see Palamedes and Ianthe interact one-on-one and debate a bit
and now i really have run out of stuff to liveblog about these books rip my sanity
#lemon natalia reads the locked tomb#tlt#the locked tomb#the locked tomb liveblog#the unwanted guest
47 notes
·
View notes
Text
Little Unicorn Day Center
Title: Little Unicorns Daycare Center
Prompt: day 2 - meet cute
Rating: G
Author:
Brief Summary
Any Content warnings:
Hermione had cared for many children in the three years since she had opened the Little Unicorns Daycare Center, and she had always been careful to be impartial and fair to every little boy and girl that walked through her doors.
But she couldn’t deny that Lily was one of her favorites.
The vivacious red-headed girl had been in her care for around six months, and it had been obvious from the start that she was different from the other kids. She was well ahead of the group on her reading comprehension, and she had a highly developed sense of humor for her age. She also loved to tell detailed, fantastical stories about magical creatures, and people flying around on broomsticks, and Hermione was amazed at the depth of her imagination.
Hermione had only ever met Lily’s mother, Ginny, who shared her daughter’s long red hair and quick wit. Ginny was always in and out of the cottage in a hurry when she came to drop Lily off or pick her up, but she was always friendly enough. She knew that Ginny was in publishing, and her husband in law enforcement, jobs that surely kept them both very busy, so Hermione didn’t think anything of the quick visits.
It never struck her as odd, either, that she had never met Lily’s father; it was common for her to deal with one parent more than the other. She finally met him on a cold, snowy day, when the front door opened and Lily burst in, shedding her hat and gloves before she had even made it past Hermione’s desk, and a tall, gorgeous red-headed man trailing behind her.
He smiled apologetically as he bent to pick up Lily’s things to hand to her. “Sorry about that. Is she always like this?”
Hermione’s fingers brushed against his as she took the gloves, and she was surely imagining the spark that ignited her skin at the contact. “Oh, it’s um…” Hermione unconsciously raised her hand to flatten her bushy hair before scolding herself. This man was married, and it surely did not matter how her hair looked. “It’s finger paint day. I’m sure she’s just excited.”
“Oh, that explains it, then. Can’t say I blame her.”
He gave her another brilliant smile, and she melted as she looked up into his vibrant blue eyes. Lily had bright eyes, too, but hers were an almost unnatural shade of green. Ginny’s, if Hermione remembered correctly, were brown, and for a fleeting moment, she hoped that maybe the man was a family friend or something. But then she saw the shiny gold detective's badge pinned to his trousers, and the hair color, of course, was unmistakable. Even so, Hermione couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Will you be picking Lily up this afternoon?”
“Nah, Gin just had an early meeting this morning. She’ll get her later, like normal.”
Hermione hoped that her disappointment wasn’t glaringly obvious. Her instant attraction to this man was undeniable, but it was also incredibly inappropriate. He was a parent of one of her charges, for goodness sake! Hermione put on the most neutral smile she could muster and then motioned to a pile of papers that she was certain were nothing more than coloring sheets. “Okay, I hope you have a lovely day. If you’ll excuse me, I really should get back to work.”
“Oh, yeah, me too.” He leaned to the side to look through the open doorway into the playroom beyond the lobby. “Bye, Lil! Be good!” Hermione heard no response from the adjacent room, but he turned without one and gave a slight wave of goodbye to Hermione before heading back out into the cold.
It was several weeks before she saw him again. Lily again raced through the door while her father ambled in behind her and smiled at Hermione. “Must be finger-paint day again,” he said teasingly as he approached the desk. “I realize I didn’t properly introduce myself before. I’m Ron.” He held out his hand for Hermione to shake and she took it, trying to ignore the warmth of his palm.
“Hermione.” Their hands remained linked for just an instant longer than was probably proper, and Hermione forced herself to break their gaze. “Lily’s a wonderful child,” she said, determined to focus on the little girl.
“Yeah, she’s a hoot. She—“ Ron cut himself off with a frown and fished a buzzing pager from his coat pocket. “Sorry, duty calls.” She caught another glimpse of his badge and nodded in understanding. “Nice to see you again.”
“You, too.” Hermione lifted her hand in farewell, and she was so distracted by the view of him from behind, that it completely slipped her mind that Ron was not the name of the other parent on Lily’s paperwork.
She saw Ron several more times over the following months, and he was always so charming with her. Hermione was horribly embarrassed by her attraction to another woman’s husband—though she had noticed that he didn’t wear a ring—and even worse, the fact that the feeling seemed to be mutual. She wanted to believe that it was just his personality, that he was the outgoing type, and not that he was a man who would shamelessly flirt with other women. He didn’t seem to be the sort who would do such a thing. Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit to herself how unseemly her behavior was. Either way, Lily would be moving on to kindergarten soon, and she could forget all about Ron.
Usually if she saw Ron, it was at Lily’s morning drop-off, so Hermione was surprised when he appeared one afternoon at pick-up time. He was quieter than usual, not his typical cheery self. “Lily!” Hermione called to the other room. “Time to go!”
“Coming!” the little girl hollered back as Ron approached her desk.
“Hi,” he said, his tone soft. She didn’t know him all that well, even now, but he actually sounded nervous. “So, I um...wanted to ask you something?”
Hermione’s heart started pounding, and she rubbed her palms against her jeans anxiously. “Sure,” she replied, and she hoped he couldn’t hear the tremor in her voice.
He hesitated, and then blurted out, “Are you free for dinner tonight?” He must have registered the look of shock on her face at his overt invitation, and he began to ramble. “I’ve got to take Lily home, but after that, or—or maybe this weekend we could—“
Hermione gave a vehement shake of her head and lowered her voice to hiss at him, “That is wildly inappropriate!” As much as she couldn’t deny that there was a chemistry between them, acting on it was a whole different matter.
“I—“ He seemed taken aback by the severity of her response. “I can take the rejection, but...inappropriate?”
She looked at him incredulously. “Yes. I don’t make it a habit to fraternize with—“
“Uncle Ron!” Lily’s exclamation and pounding footsteps cut her off and stopped her cold. The little girl threw her arms around one of Ron’s long legs, and he reached down to pat her head.
“Hey, kiddo. Have a good day today?”
Lily nodded. “Where’s mummy?”
“Waiting at home, and your dad is picking up your brothers.”
She then glanced at Hermione before gazing up at Ron with a knowing look beyond her years. “Did you come just to say hi to Miss Hermione?” Lily half-covered her mouth to whisper loudly to Hermione, “My mummy says he fancies you.”
Hermione couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. Here she had been berating herself all these months for nothing. She wracked her brain, but she couldn’t recall Lily ever mentioning her father or Ron by name, and she had never addressed him directly until now. She had just been assuming that Ron was off-limits, and couldn’t remember ever being so pleased to be wrong.
Ron’s face was red with embarrassment, but he was still smiling shyly at her, and the look was incredibly endearing. “Did you really think I was her dad? Haven’t you ever met Harry?” Hermione shook her head.
“No, I haven’t, actually. I saw your badge and, well, your hair—I just assumed.”
“So...any chance that changes your mind about dinner?” he asked hopefully.
Hermione crouched down to the ground and motioned Lily over. “Maybe you could tell your Uncle Ron,” she said in a stage whisper, “that I fancy him, too?”
Lily nodded eagerly before scampering back over to Ron. “Uncle Ron! Miss Hermione said she fancies you.”
Hermione straightened and beamed at Ron. “Seven okay?”
“Tonight?” Hermione nodded; she didn’t want to wait any longer to get to know him better. “Brilliant. Seven it is.” He took Lily’s hand and led her toward the door, glancing back over his shoulder at Hermione with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.
#hpfic#Romione FicFest 2021#romione#ron weasley#hermione granger#Rated G#Ace Safe#No content warning#citrus free#Queue up for the Dragon
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
The Odds of Us All
CH 3 Part 2/5: The Foxes Burrow
You stood beside Kita, facing the starting members of Inarizaki’s team. Your soulmates were pretty surprised to see you here- but that was a given since you may or may not have neglected to inform them that you would be their new manager.
“This is Ushijima Y/n. She was previously Nekoma’s volleyball club manager- I’m sure some of ya’ have heard of them before. They’re Fukurodani’s main rival- aside from Itachiyama.” Kita introduced her formally, before allowing Y/n to say a few things herself.
“I look forward to getting to know you all! Please take care of me.” You said with a bow. Kita nodded in approval at your brief greeting- concise yet polite- just as he liked it.
“Today’s extra practice for the senior and starting members. So take yer time with gettin settled in. If ya need anythin just ask me or Aran.” A tall male in a #4 jersey strode up to you, a welcoming smile on his lips as he stretched out a hand for a handshake.
“Nice to meet ya Ushijima! Welcome to the team!” You accepted his hand and shook it firmly.
“Glad to be here Aran-senpai- but please just call me ‘Y/n.’ Ushijima is my cousin-”
“Course- ain’t gonna lie- made me double take the first time I heard it.” They shared a quick chuckle. “Why don’t ya go talk to the other’s? We’ll be right here after.” Aran stepped away to speak to Kita, luckily you didn’t need to go seek out anyone else to speak to- since someone walked up to you.
*Apologies in advance ya’ll, I’m only an anime watcher so I DO NOT have a grasp on Akagi, Omimi, or Ginjima’s characters AT ALL... so please- if you guys have tips please comment. Also I have no idea if Akagi or Ginjima was raised in Hyogo so I’m going to give them a normal Tokyo dialect for now- but Ginjima will have hints of Hyogo dialect- this is subject to change if I get advice.
“Hi! I’m Akagi Michinari, you’re new right? How’s Inarizaki so far?” Akagi was fairly cheerful- almost like a breath of fresh air compared to everyone else. Sure, Kita and Aran were plenty nice but they were more like a parental/older brother sort than friendly.
“Mhm, I just got here two days ago! Everyone here is so friendly- I love it.”
“Hey... this is just between me and you but,” Akagi leans forward, hand covering the side of his face like he’s telling a secret, curious, you lean forward to hear better. “It’s kind of refreshing to talk to someone without the Hyogo dialect. Sometimes I still have trouble understanding what people are saying so I smile and nod.” You two look at each other for a good moment before bursting into actual giggles.
“Me too actually, I was so lost in Japanese literature- so I just pretended to know what was going on when Kenji-sensei was lecturing.” You whisper back- sending the third year into a fit of laughter. The two of you were oblivious to the jealous stares from the nightmare trio, and the curious looks from the others.
“Haha- I think we’ll be fast friends Y/n!” The libero says, turning to look at the last two people. “Hey Ren, Hitoshi- come say hi!” A super tall, scary dude with a blank expression walks over, along with a stereotypical alt obsessed looking guy. “The super tall one is Omimi Ren- and the grumpy one is Ginjima Hitoshi!” Omimi doesn’t say anything- instead opting to nod in greeting.
“Hey.” Is all Ginjima says, looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
“Call me Y/n! I was meaning to ask earlier but are there any allergies or food preferences you might have? I was going to bring homemade energy bars but realized someone might be allergic.”
“Uh, nah I don’t have any allergies.” Ginjima looks pleasantly surprised, though it’s barely noticeable on his face, “I don’t think anyone here has allergies so ya don’t need to worry.” He turns to look at his seniors for confirmation.
“No one has any.” Omimi agrees.
“Great! Thank you... how about food preferences? Any dietary restrictions for you three specifically?” You’re slipping back into your old managerial habits, pulling out a notepad and scribbling down notes. You may not be of any help on the court directly, but you pride yourself on being analytical and taking care of your team. An example of this was how you’d watch Nekoma’s next rival team beforehand, chatting up their players by starting off with simple conversation- and estimating what makes them tick based off their answers.
“So professional- Shinsuke picked a good one.” Akagi praised, before giving his own preferences (along with Omimi’s), Ginjima spoke after him. Something told you this years team was going to quickly be added to your list of friends.
“What’cha talkin bout over here?” Atsumu slinked over to stand at your side, inserting himself into the conversation. The two third years were unperturbed at his interruption, meanwhile Ginjima looked a little irritated.
“Just dietary restrictions.” You replied showing him your notebook. “Speaking of which I have to speak to you, Osamu, and Suna about yours. Excuse us-” After politely excusing yourself and Atsumu, you walked over to join the other two.
“Enjoyin yerself?” Osamu questioned in greeting, taking a bite of his senbei cracker. “Never seen Akagi so chatty with someone he just met.”
“That’s because they were gossiping.” Suna snickered, shooting you a knowing glance. “It was something about the dialect right? He said the same thing to me when we first met.” He laughed at the scandalized/busted expression you wore.
“What d’ya mean?” The vegetable oil color haired twin questioned, tilting his head to the side- Osamu said nothing, content to munch on his cracker.
“Thank you so much for exposing me.” You ‘thanked’ Suna with a saccharine sweet tone, before answering your faux blonde soulmate. “It’s Tokyo dialect things. That’s it.”
“Oh ok.” He seemed satisfied with your answer, not seeing any reason to doubt you- much to his twin’s, and Suna’s amusement.
“Alright everyone, practice now!” Coach Kurosu called, the gym doors slamming open as he strode in alongside Coach Oomi. “Ushijima- er I’ll just say Y/n yeah? Come over and I’ll give you a rundown on how things work around here.” While the boys began running their warmup laps around the gyms interior, you made your way over to the coaches. “So... says here you were manager of old Nekomata’s team huh? Interestin’ well, it’s the same as any managerial position. Keep the bottles filled, maintain our players morale when you can, and launder the towels and practice jerseys... sound good?” You nodded, already used to the burden of managing a boys volleyball team.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Oh and here,” he hands you a hefty, sealed envelope. “Your budget for the next two weeks. Anything you don’t spend will be subtracted from the next allowance.” Your eyes widen at the weight of it, but you nod along nonetheless. Money is a friend of yours- the Ushijima’s being a very well off family. “Well the bottles are in the locker room hallway.”
“Right, of course.” Then you left, going to begin the familiar tasks that had somehow become an important part of your daily high school life.
Oomi looked at Kurosu. “Why’d you give her cash? We’re supposed to give her the card?” Kurosu is silent, watching his players with a scrutinizing look.
“She reminds me of a boerboel.”
“I don’t follow?”
“I have a feelin that we can trust her.”
Facts/Trivia
This takes place the very next day after CH3 pt1, ignore the 4d mark on that one cut off tweet please
Tendo has this uncanny ability to tell when someone is trash talking either Ushijima
Sakusa still doesn’t know that Y/n is Inarizaki’s new manager
None of her soulmates follow her private twitter- or know of it’s existence
Y/n is very efficient at doing laundry/filling water bottles within a small time frame- she has Nekoma vbc to thank for that
Nekoma didn’t have a allowance for their team- so Y/n just paid for everything out of pocket
Yes their budget for TWO WEEKS is about $270
The only things she can bake well is granola/energy bars, scones, and cookies. Anything else she attempts turns out horribly
A boerboel is a extremely dependable dog breed
Sometimes when the teachers speak too quickly, Y/n can’t tell what they’re saying so she just stares at them, acting like an attentive student so that they’ll be less tempted to call on her during class
I have no idea how to write for Omimi, Ginjima, Akagi, and both coaches so I’ll just do whatever
Series Masterlist
Prev | Next
Taglist: OPEN BUT CLOSING SOON @kac-chowsballs @kotwd @ems1des @normalisthenewnorm @micheleinumaki @gomchan @empress-simps @mer-der-mi @honeyswhiskers @sakusas-number1-stan @astronomyturtle @akirahyoshi @afire24 @its-the-aerieljeane @carla-1217 @fucktheworlddude @baes-x @shadoweepingscream @sirachano0dles @chibiitakoyaki
*Send ASK to be added to list; bold means I can’t tag you! Please change your privacy settings!
#haikyuu social media au#haikyuu poly au#haikyuu smau#haikyuu soulmate au#sakusa kiyoomi x reader#sakuatsu x reader#sakusa x reader#miya osamu x reader#osamu x reader#suna rintaro x reader#suna x reader#sunaosa x reader#atsumu x reader#miya atsumu x reader#miya twins x reader
201 notes
·
View notes
Text
My final entry for @romioneficfest - thank you again to everyone who took the time to vote!
Little Unicorns Daycare Center
Hermione had cared for many children in the three years since she had opened the Little Unicorns Daycare Center, and she had always been careful to be impartial and fair to every little boy and girl that walked through her doors.
But she couldn’t deny that Lily was one of her favorites.
The vivacious red-headed girl had been in her care for around six months, and it had been obvious from the start that she was different from the other kids. She was well ahead of the group on her reading comprehension, and she had a highly developed sense of humor for her age. She also loved to tell detailed, fantastical stories about magical creatures and people flying around on broomsticks, and Hermione was amazed at the depth of Lily’s imagination.
Hermione had only ever met Lily’s mother, Ginny, who shared her daughter’s long red hair and quick wit. Ginny was always in and out of the cottage in a hurry when she came to drop Lily off or pick her up, but she was always friendly enough. She knew that Ginny was in publishing, and her husband in law enforcement, jobs that surely kept them both very busy, so Hermione didn’t think anything of the quick visits.
It never struck her as odd, either, that she had never met Lily’s father; it was common for her to deal with one parent more than the other. She finally met him on a cold, snowy day, when the front door opened and Lily burst in, shedding her hat and gloves before she had even made it past Hermione’s desk, and a tall, gorgeous red-headed man trailing behind her.
He smiled apologetically as he bent to pick up Lily’s things to hand to her. “Sorry about that. Is she always like this?”
Hermione’s fingers brushed against his as she took the gloves, and she was surely imagining the spark that ignited her skin at the contact.
“Oh, it’s um…” Hermione unconsciously raised her hand to flatten her bushy hair before scolding herself. This man was married, and it surely did not matter how her hair looked. “It’s finger paint day. I’m sure she’s just excited.”
“Oh, that explains it, then. Can’t say I blame her.”
He gave her another brilliant smile, and she melted as she looked up into his vibrant blue eyes. Lily had bright eyes, too, but hers were an almost unnatural shade of green. Ginny’s, if Hermione remembered correctly, were brown, and for a fleeting moment, she hoped that maybe the man was a family friend or something. But then she saw the shiny gold detective's badge pinned to his trousers, and the hair color, of course, was unmistakable. Even so, Hermione couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Will you be picking Lily up this afternoon?”
“Nah, Gin just had an early meeting this morning. She’ll get her later, like normal.”
Hermione hoped that her disappointment wasn’t glaringly obvious. Her instant attraction to this man was undeniable, but it was also incredibly inappropriate. He was a parent of one of her charges, for goodness sake! Hermione put on the most neutral smile she could muster and then motioned to a pile of papers that she was certain were nothing more than coloring sheets. “Okay, I hope you have a lovely day. If you’ll excuse me, I really should get back to work.”
“Oh, yeah, me too.” He leaned to the side to look through the open doorway into the playroom beyond the lobby. “Bye, Lil! Be good!”
Hermione heard no response from the adjacent room, but he turned without one and gave a slight wave of goodbye to Hermione before heading back out into the cold.
It was several weeks before she saw him again. Lily again raced through the door while her father ambled in behind her and smiled at Hermione. “Must be finger-paint day again,” he said teasingly as he approached the desk. “I realize I didn’t properly introduce myself before. I’m Ron.” He held out his hand for Hermione to shake, and she took it, trying to ignore the warmth of his palm.
“Hermione.” Their hands remained linked for just an instant longer than was probably proper, and Hermione forced herself to break their gaze. “Lily’s a wonderful child,” she said, determined to focus on the little girl.
“Yeah, she’s a hoot. She—“ Ron cut himself off with a frown and fished a buzzing pager from his coat pocket. “Sorry, duty calls.” She caught another glimpse of his badge and nodded in understanding. “Nice to see you again.”
“You, too.” Hermione lifted her hand in farewell, and she was so distracted by the view of him from behind that it completely slipped her mind that Ron was not the name of the other parent on Lily’s paperwork.
She saw Ron several more times over the following months, and he was always so charming with her. Hermione was horribly embarrassed by her attraction to another woman’s husband—though she had noticed that he didn’t wear a ring—and even worse, the fact that the feeling seemed to be mutual. She wanted to believe that it was just his personality, that he was the outgoing type, and not that he was a man who would shamelessly flirt with other women. He didn’t seem to be the sort who would do such a thing. Or maybe she just didn’t want to admit to herself how unseemly her behavior was. Either way, Lily would be moving on to kindergarten soon, and she could forget all about Ron.
Usually, if she saw Ron, it was at Lily’s morning drop-off, so Hermione was surprised when he appeared one afternoon at pick-up time. He was quieter than usual, not his typical cheery self. “Lily!” Hermione called to the other room. “Time to go!”
“Coming!” the little girl hollered back as Ron approached her desk.
“Hi,” he said, his tone soft. She didn’t know him all that well, even now, but he actually sounded nervous. “So, I um...wanted to ask you something?”
Hermione’s heart started pounding, and she rubbed her palms against her jeans anxiously. “Sure,” she replied, and she hoped he couldn’t hear the tremor in her voice.
He hesitated and then blurted out, “Are you free for dinner tonight?” He must have registered the look of shock on her face at his overt invitation, and he began to ramble. “I’ve got to take Lily home, but after that, or—or maybe this weekend we could—“
Hermione gave a vehement shake of her head and lowered her voice to hiss at him, “That is wildly inappropriate!” As much as she couldn’t deny that there was a chemistry between them, acting on it was a whole different matter.
“I—“ He seemed taken aback by the severity of her response. “I can take the rejection, but...inappropriate?”
She looked at him incredulously. “Yes. I don’t make it a habit to fraternize with—“
“Uncle Ron!” Lily’s exclamation and pounding footsteps cut her off and stopped her cold. The little girl threw her arms around one of Ron’s long legs, and he reached down to pat her head.
“Hey, kiddo. Have a good day today?”
Lily nodded. “Where’s mummy?”
“Waiting at home, and your dad is picking up your brothers.”
She then glanced at Hermione before gazing up at Ron with a knowing look beyond her years. “Did you come just to say hi to Miss Hermione?” Lily half-covered her mouth to whisper loudly to Hermione, “My mummy says he fancies you.”
Hermione couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. Here she had been berating herself all these months for nothing. She wracked her brain, but she couldn’t recall Lily ever mentioning her father or Ron by name, and she had never addressed him directly until now. She had just assumed that Ron was off-limits, and couldn’t remember ever being so pleased to be wrong.
Ron’s face was red with embarrassment, but he was still smiling shyly at her, and the look was incredibly endearing. “Did you really think I was her dad? Haven’t you ever met Harry?”
Hermione shook her head. “No, I haven’t, actually. I saw your badge and, well, your hair—I just assumed.”
“So...any chance that changes your mind about dinner?” he asked hopefully.
Hermione crouched down to the ground and motioned Lily over. “Maybe you could tell your Uncle Ron,” she said in a stage whisper, “that I fancy him, too?”
Lily nodded eagerly before scampering back over to Ron. “Uncle Ron! Miss Hermione said she fancies you.”
Hermione straightened and beamed at Ron. “Seven okay?”
“Tonight?” Hermione nodded; she didn’t want to wait any longer to get to know him better. “Brilliant. Seven it is.”
He took Lily’s hand and led her toward the door, glancing back over his shoulder at Hermione with a grin that stretched from ear to ear.
🦄🦄🦄
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
accidental collateral damage // george weasley
Summary: so the prank didn’t necessarily ‘go to plan’, but George, admittedly, has never been happier for it
Request: Omg I love your works with the Weasley twins! Can I request a fic for George where he and Fred accidentally prank the reader who is shy. And so George feels bad because she was humiliated and purposely makes fun of himself to try to prevent people from making fun of her.
A/N: cracking request this is
Reader: unspecified
Warnings: swearing, public embarrassment?
Professor Snape was a creature of habit. Surely a malicious and miserable creature, but without question, one of habit. Every day like clockwork, just after lunch started, Snape would glide up from the dungeon and cut through the main courtyard to reach the Great Hall in time to eat. Every single day. And, as all well-established pranksters should, Fred and George made it their mission to know these things. As they always said, you never really know when such information will become useful or exactly how useful it will actually be. One very icy day in November, this tiny detail became paramount to Fred and George’s newest venture.
The twins sat behind the concrete base of the large rose bushes, crouched down as to hide their faces from any teachers that could possibly be on the hunt for perpetrators of a particular prank. Not that they’d pulled any sort of prank, of course. But the plan was simple really. Snape would walk in and then the bucket of slime Fred had ‘misplaced’ on the windowsill a few feet above him would mysteriously fall (must be the wind) and so, Snape would end up doused in green slime – a tragic accident; a fool-proof plan.
What Fred and George had not anticipated, however, was you. From the moment you stepped foot into the courtyard, George’s attention had been divided, and not so equally.
“Blimey, mate,” Fred said, rolling his eyes as he looked from you to his brother’s vacant, moon-eyed expression. “We’ve got a job to do here.”
“What?”
George turned to him, barely sparing him a glance before his eyes shot back to you. He watched you carefully as you stopped, a smile lighting up your cheeks as you spoke to someone. He’d always liked you, ever since he’d sat next to you in Charms that one time when Flitwick moved him away from Fred. He knew how shy you were and how little you liked to be the centre of attention; how everything you said was carefully thought through, and he found it kind of sweet. Not to mention, he more than enjoyed watching your flustered movements, especially when it came to him. He sighed softly at your grin, but his fawning was nothing compared to Fred’s huff, an impatient exhale.
“George, Snape will be here any minute-“
“And we’ll be ready,” George snapped, frowning.
“Not when you’re so bloody distracted by Y/N over there-“
“I am not distracted!”
George turned to you, a small smile curving at his lips as you circled around too quickly, walking into someone. You offered them a shy laugh in response, stepping out of their way and wringing your hands.
“Not distracted, eh?” Fred asked, arms crossed with a decidedly smug expression. George scoffed, nudging his brother with his elbow. Fred rolled his eyes again, adjusting his grip on his wand.
“Don’t be a git, Fred.”
“Me, a git? What about you?”
“What about me?”
“You’re so goo-goo-eyed for Y/N, you barely even know what we’re doing!”
“Of course, I know, you prat.”
“I’m a prat?” Fred flicked his brother in the ear, earning an irritated push in return. “You’re a prat!”
“Sod off-“
The plan took a backseat as the twins squabbled between them, pinching and shoving at each other. Fred pulled at George’s hair and George twisted Fred’s arm and it only took a moment before they were both tangled up like a pretzel, Fred’s wand waving about wildly.
“You need to focus on the plan,” Fred insisted, flinching as George elbowed him in the gut. His frustration dissipated within a second as his wand flicked and the bucket stashed on the windowsill rocked to the side, falling quickly towards the ground.
“Oh, fuck,” Fred muttered, both him and George stopping their bickering in its tracks as they watched the bucket fall, directly towards the only person within the few feet radius of it; you.
You didn’t expect to be covered in green slime. Though, you supposed, nobody really expected it, did they? At first, you didn’t even know it was green slime. You heard the bucket clatter next to you and then you felt something hit you with the force of a rampant snowball, or perhaps a rather large dog. It was cold and gooey and certainly slime-like, but it wasn’t until you looked down at your hands to see them, your arms and the few clumps of hair in front of your hair that you could see through, covered in thick green goo. You were sure it would’ve been quite funny had it happened to someone else, had you not automatically been the subject of the attention of all fifty or so people in the courtyard. Despite the cold, you felt your face heat up as you stepped backwards, foot kicking the bucket behind you. As people began to crowd around, their faces ranging from amused to sympathetic, you found yourself wringing your hands together, ignoring the uncomfortable stickiness of the green goop.
“Fred,” George said, the both of them standing up to see you and their prank in its full glory.
“Yes, George?”
“Prank me,” George exhaled shakily before using his hand to hoist himself over the flowerbed, wrecking whatever Professor Sprout had just planted. He didn’t have so much of a plan as a very desperate need to wash that horribly embarrassed expression off your face.
“What?”
“Prank me, Fred, now!”
Fred watched as his brother ran towards you, pushing through the crowd of people until he was almost out of sight. With a hum, Fred lifted both his wand and his eyebrows.
“If you say so, mate,” he whispered, before shooting a spell he knew extremely wel and used far too oftenl.
What neither Fred nor George counted on was the patch of ice on the ground just inside the circle of people surrounding you. A rather dark, rather slippery patch of ice. George, like all knights in shining armour, catapulted to the floor with a resounding thud, his legs flying in the air and his back hitting the concrete quite unceremoniously. Winded, he rolled over and groaned. Had he been more awake, he probably would’ve been chuffed at the instant shift of attention from you to him. His luck, though, was not the best as Fred’s spell rebounded off of a pipe near you and hit George in the stomach, enticing another much louder groan from his lips.
Whilst you hadn’t expected to be covered in slime, you most certainly hadn’t expected for George Weasley, of all people, to run into the crowd that had encircled you, slip and then get further pummelled by a rather nasty, but rather brilliant pranking spell. The crowd of students around you had all collectively turned to face him, erupting in snickers and giggles as he sat up slowly. You sighed in relief, happy to not be the centre of attention and grateful to George, but even you couldn’t hide the laughter that escaped your lips when he sat up, his hair drenched in treacle with dozens of white feathers floating around him. You bit your lip as you smiled, touched that he’d made such a fool of himself to help you.
Everyone in the courtyard seemed to freeze when a few students parted to reveal Professor Snape, a fouler sneer than usual decorating his face.
“And what is the meaning of this?” he asked, raised an eyebrow as his eyes flicked back and forth between you and George. You looked down, feeling everyone’s stares on you.
“Well?”
You looked quickly towards George, noticing him floundering, spitting out feathers and frowning.
“Just a little wand mishap, Sir,” you said, as surprised as anyone that you’d opened your mouth. Snape looked at you for a moment, eyebrows knitted together tightly. You looked back down, clenching your jaw and praying the situation would just end.
“I suggest you both get yourselves cleaned up, then,” Snape said sharply, shooting you a deadly glance before turning to George. “Don’t you, Mr Weasley?”
George, his mouth still full of feathers, only nodded.
“Well,” Snape lifted his arms, gesturing to the other students in the courtyard. “I am sure it is lunchtime, yes?”
Nobody dared question him as the once full courtyard emptied out rather quickly. Fred stood up to go help George when he noticed you, still green and gooey, walking slowly closer to his brother and so, with a smug smirk, he sat back and watched.
You didn’t say anything at first, as you walked towards him, frowning and swallowing, trying to dispel the lump in your throat. George didn’t notice your approach, too busy pulling now brown, sticky feathers from his hair. He only stopped when you crouched down in front of him, his hands dropping to his lap in surprise as you leant over and pulled away with a particularly large feather in your grip.
“One of your pranks?” you asked, smiling nervously. He noticed your hands shake and tried to give you his most encouraging grin. Though he was sure in his current state, it wasn’t all that convincing.
“Sort of,” he said, lifting a hand to move your clumped hair to the side, revealing your only slightly green-tinged features. You froze for a moment at this close proximity, not long enough for him to see, though, you hoped.
“Was meant to be Snape, though, covered in slime.”
“Ah,” you nodded. “And the feathers?”
He smiled sheepishly, going to rub the back of his neck, wincing at the stickiness.
“A detour to help out a friend.”
You raised an eyebrow, sitting back onto the cold ground. He watched you closely, fully aware of the way you carefully picked each word you were about to say, finding your pensive expression adorable.
“Are we friends, then?”
“I sure hope so,” George grinned, scrunching up his face as moved the brown treacle from his eyes. “I don’t make a fool of myself for just anybody.”
“Only everybody,” you said quickly, far too quickly for you. His barked a laugh as your eyes grew wide, shocked yourself by what you’d said.
“Sorry about the slime,” he said softly, his eyes a bright and apologetic contrast to the thick goop on his skin. You nodded, pulling your top lip between your teeth.
“Not a problem.”
You both sat there silently for a moment, so silent in fact, that George was sure you could hear his thoughts, his loud, disappointed ranting about messing up his chances with you. You surprised him, though, when you pinched a bit of slime between your fingers, pulling it away from your arm as it stretched like taffy.
“Rather funny, though,” you said, sucking your teeth for a second. “Quite ingenious, too.”
He looked at you then as if you put every single star in the sky, his mouth agape and eyes wide. You smiled bashfully under his gaze.
“Not exactly fool-proof, though.”
harry potter tag list:
@creator-appreciator
@loveisblindness
@decadentwastelandtrash
@xinyourdreamsx
@brainlesspasta
@hariosborn
@rexorangecouny
@staringmoony
#george weasley imagine#george weasley#george weasley x reader#Harry Potter imagine#harry potter#imagine#writing
532 notes
·
View notes
Text
A very long time ago I suggested a MBaV au then later took it down because I didn’t think that many people watched the show so not many people probably knew what I was talking about. I’ve decided to bring it back.
I had art to go with this (Which I might have posted earlier so my apologies if this is the second time you’ve seen this au) but people didn’t seem particuarly fond of it and I was worried that the art would be offputting from the actual concept.
Anyway, MBaV stands for My Babysitter’s a Vampire and it was this cheesy supernatural show I watched when I was a kid. This au has a few differences from the show, either because the time frame doesn’t fit (MBaV is set in the modern day, TGS is Victorian London so some things don’t match up), because I don’t properly remember the episode (It’s been a long time, not everything will match up. There are some episodes that I didn’t see at all.), or just because the change seemed better fitting for the au.
Dr Jekyll is a powerful spellcaster who, after a mishap with a spell years ago, accidentally split himself into two. While Jekyll is known for being one of the older and more skilled spellcasters in London, Edward has a bad habit of messing up spells, either by not reading through the consequences before using them or reading them backwards. He’s technically still powerful but it’s difficult for people to tell when so many of his spells go sideways.
The pair can hide memories from each other and both use it to screw with the other.
Jekyll runs a society for the supernatural, trying to keep the supernatural side of London from messing around with the normal side too much. However, the society has a cover of being a society for the sciences so it attracts a mixture of regular humans and the supernatural meaning that:
A. The supernatural side of the society has to be hidden from some of the society’s members
B. They’re not actually sure how many are human and how many are supernatural, leading to some more malicious monsters slipping in.
--
Lanyon, meanwhile, is a seer. By touching people or certain objects he can receive visions of the future or the past but they’re not always clear.
Throughout his life, these abilities have allowed him to learn a lot of things he didn’t want to know about - he always knew when other people were just trying to use him, he always knew when something bad was going to happen to someone, and it left him rather cynical and detatched. He does his best to avoid contact with people to avoid getting these visions.
However, he starts to get particularly bad visions from Dr Jekyll, hinting that Edward Hyde will eventually start being a danger to Jekyll. As a result, he’s doing his best to figure out what the deal with Edward is before it’s too late or, at least, get rid of Edward before things can come to pass.
Rachel and Henry don’t seem to take him seriously about Edward (Rachel doesn’t want to believe that Edward could hurt Jekyll and, therefore, reasons that Lanyon’s visions aren’t telling him everything and Jekyll, obviously, already knows everything and wants Lanyon to stay out of it before he learns the truth.)
--
Rachel is a fledgling vampire, bitten and turned by Moreau, the leader of a vampiric cult. She hasn’t drunk human blood yet which means she’s weaker than most vampires, hoping that, if she remains a fledgling (continues to not drink from people) she might one day be cured.
Jekyll helps make a blood substitute for her so she never has to drink from a human.
The Elephants are an all female all vampire group so Lucy and Elsie are very supportive of Rachel’s vampirism and often give her advice on the matter. (Although they don’t really get her aversion from drinking human blood.) Lucy is a very old and powerful vampire.
Eli was killed by Moreau when he ended up in the wrong place at the wrong time.
--
Frankenstein is a necromancer who came to London looking for the powerful spellcaster she had heard so much about, wanting his help to cure vampirism entirely. However, the moment she arrived she ended up in an altercation with Moreau, leaving her injured. To her annoyance, she had to pick up the cover of being a scientist looking for a cure for her son’s terrible condition (The son being Creature.) and was taken in by the society while she searches for the spellcaster in her spare time. To her extra annoyance, every time she slips away and starts trying to track the spellcaster, it always somehow seems to lead her directly into the path of “the naive human” Dr Jekyll leading to her being put back to bed every time.
In all fairness, Jekyll has perfected the ignorant human act.
Things become trickier however when her spell finally leads her to Edward Hyde instead, leading her to believe that he’s the spellcaster. Edward doesn’t correct her or even let Jekyll know about this, wanting to prove himself as powerful as Jekyll.
Eventually, he starts searching for a powerful magical artifact which could help them. A magical artifact with absolutely no corrupting properties at all. Ever. It’s perfectly safe and will not at all ever send Hyde, already the personification of evil, towards trying to eliminate his good half and take over London. Of course not.
Jekyll knows that something bad is afoot but, with Hyde blocking his memories from him, he doesn’t know exactly what. Neither does Frankenstein realize her mistake until it’s too late.
---
The lodgers:
Helsby is a mermaid. When he’s touched by water, he turns into his mermaid form and his singing voice can send everyone around him into a rage. After he causes a lot of chaos around the society, Lanyon, Rachel, and Hyde set out to try to defeat him in a music contest. If he loses, he has to stop. This plan goes sideways when Hyde marches in with a trumpet cursed to make the most horrible noise possible and basically forces Helsby into submission instead. And destroys Lanyon and Rachel’s eardrums in the process.
Jasper is a werewolf as always. He came directly to the society, looking for help with his condition, fearing the danger of his werewolf half. Werewolves and vampires have a natural rivalry but Rachel just decided that the taboo of it was just more romantic and fell for him. When the full moon came, though, everyone found out that Jasper just turns into a harmless dog. Rachel was a little disappointed but still loved him anyway.
Cantilupe is an ancient god who slipped in with the intent of collecting followers in the society to bring about the apocalypse, pretending to be a zoologist. However, she then met Lavender, a newer human zoologist who viewed her as her senior and constantly looked for Cantilupe’s help with her work. Cantilupe decided she was fond of this tiny human and stopped trying to end the world. Lavender still isn’t aware that her senior is a literal god.
Maijabi is a spirit that can inhabit mirrors. His cursed mirror was accidentally taken in by the society where he began to manipulate people who looked into his mirror into harming people around them to get revenge for his death after dying in a prank gone wrong. As it turned out, though, Lanyon could see him for what he was thanks to his powers. After stopping him, Jekyll used his magic to make him visible to other people so he can sort of live again. He still can’t touch people without passing through them.
Sinnett is human but, at one point, a sentient tree ends up getting into the society and taking control of all of the automatons, technology, and clockwork in there, including Sinnett’s arm. He helps arm the trio with flamethrowers to fight the tree but they couldn’t get the last bit of tree of out Sinnett’s prosthetic arm. Now he has to deal with an evil tree in his arm which occasionally tries to convince him to destroy the world. He tunes it out.
Tweedy is also human but he’s a “paranormal investigator” who came to the society looking for ghosts. Most of his equipment suspiciously goes off around Rachel (She is undead and all) and everyone has to keep trying to hide the numerous ghosts and zombies in the society.
Bryson is the ghost of a once famous aeronaut looking to regain his lost fame. He tries to force Lanyon as the only person who can see him into helping him with this but Lanyon knows absolutely nothing about aeronautics.
---
Other things:
Once, as a lesson to try to teach Robert, Rachel, and Edward to work together, Henry secretly used a spell to send each one of them into their own pocket dimension based off of each of their fears. Initially it was supposed to have safeguards in place to keep the exercise safe and keep the fears mild.
Hyde was given the fear of being alone (A world completely devoid of people)
Rachel was given a fear of losing herself to her vampirism (A more powerful and evil version of herself)
Robert was given the villain from a play he watched recently which frightened him. (An automaton dentist gone rogue.)
However, either by Hyde messing around with magic to try to free them all or by some malicious outside intervention (Because it would be mean for Jekyll to do this himself but I can’t miss out the angst of a proper worst fear episode.) the safeguards got removed and the worlds started to twist themselves to everyone’s deepest darkest fears.
Hyde ended up chased by his own friends, turning on him after they discovered his secret.
Rachel was chased by the ghost of Eli, blaming her for his death.
Robert got a monstrous version of Hyde from his visions, the version of Hyde he knew was someday destined to kill Jekyll. (Hyde was very flattered when he found out.)
All of them try to hide their fears from the others and the worlds continue feeding off their fear and becoming more monsterous and twisted as time goes on.
They all only just escape.
--
Jekyll and Hyde have been seen in the same place before which doesn’t help anyone figure out that they’re the same person. Thanks to messing around with an old cursed camera from Jekyll’s collection, Hyde accidentally makes an evil clone of himself. Everyone kind of notices that Hyde’s acting a little worse than usual but Jekyll’s the only one who knows that something wrong’s going on here (Because that’s himself just standing there mocking him.) and Jekyll has to try to stop the evil Hyde alone, unable to tell anyone why he knows that isn’t the real Hyde.
--
Jekyll once accidentally hired a carriage haunted by the ghost of a dead vampire and everyone had to work together to stake it because it wouldn’t stop running people over.
They don’t talk about it.
The horses came out fine.
--
Hyde once tried to resurrect an old pet of Lucy’s to attempt to impress her (Pets don’t live awfully long when you’re immortal after all.) but ended up bringing to life every dead animal in the area. Every last one of them turned out violent. After getting rid of most of the animals, they found one little zombie dog that somehow didn’t become violent. Jekyll took it in and named it Zosi.
35 notes
·
View notes
Text
So wrong it’s right
Part 2 // Part 3
Pairing: Angel x vamp!reader
Request: (Sorry if I make a mistake, English is my second language) Will you make a story with a somewhat villain reader (but shes not exactly evil) that keeps helping Angel out because she likes him and in the start he wont trust her but one day they kiss and Angel becomes confused about how he feels? I hope that makes sense. If I didn’t explain it well please don't feel you need to write it you can ignore this.
Requested by: Anon
Warning: Violence/fighting. Swearing.
A/N: This is the kind of fic I LOVE to write. I enjoyed myself with this one !! 💜
You weren’t well-liked in LA. The ‘good guys’ hated you, trying to stake you at any second and the ‘bad guys’ despised you. Both felt this for the way that you made decisions based on how you felt. No allegiance to good or evil. No atonement or evil plotting. You served neither the powers or dark forces. This was a fluid and extremely ambiguous way to live, which brought suspicion with you wherever you went. But you were nothing if not authentic to your beliefs. You just weren’t really sure what those beliefs were yet.
In any case, you didn’t much care for world domination nor did you hang out in particularly damp underground hovels that you wouldn’t even bury your dog in, let alone spend precious years of your un-life.
LA had a certain draw to you, it was a hub. A beating heart of life that helped you thrive in a way you had only dreamed of when you really were alive. But most importantly, it wasn’t a backwater little town. The type that always seemed to harbour Hellmouths. They seemed a little boring to you anyway.
Yeah, it holds all the supernatural power hotspots you could wish for, but at what cost? Everyone knew everyone’s business and there was such a large amount of demons concentrated in one area it was hard to navigate without bumping into several ex-lovers. Not to mention there was a higher chance of a Slayer on your back.
Now, just because you weren’t ‘evil’, that wasn’t to say you lived in the light. For one, you couldn’t. You would die… again. But also, you weren’t exactly chafing at the bit to do as the powers said. They couldn’t simultaneously damn you to hell when you got dusted whilst enticing you with some long-winded and ultimately unnecessary prophecy that gave you the one thing you were scared of. Hope.
You didn’t have a soul, and you didn’t care for gaining one. Not through a curse and even less through fighting for one yourself. This is why one vampire didn’t like you. He didn’t trust you and definitely never cut you a break.
The fact was, he barely looked your way. Unless you were stood in his path. And you had, a few times. He was convinced you had some ulterior motive but had little time for you until you turned into a bigger threat.
That was, up until the last few months. You had started to catch his attention more and more. You had been fighting, again. In the back room of some seedy bar. Trading blows, neither of you holding back. The real threat long since dusted. It was just gone three in the morning, a time you liked to be home. Just in case of a freak early sunrise (you had heard horrible things of whole towns of vampires wiped out suddenly).
You were fighting, hard. He never left it. He just couldn’t walk away. You were after the same stupid vampire. Yes, you had been after him because he owed you a large sum of money and around five Siamese cats, but the end was the same. You twisted from his firm grasp, throwing him over your head. He landed but didn’t stay down. He ran at you, pushing you back and slamming you against the door. Almost through it. He grabbed a stake and flipped it up in the air before expertly catching it, looking back in your eyes.
There was almost a flicker of danger. A flicker of all the stories you had heard of Angelus. There was something there, some kind of feeling and it got you excited. Up until this point, his face had been pretty unmoving every time you saw him. The stake dug into your chest, directly over your unbeating heart. You couldn’t help but enjoy the way his eyes scanned your face. Moving from your lips to your eyes and back again. He was so close you could just lean in and… no. Eye on the prize, you tell yourself. You would settle for a quip charged with at least a little sexual tension. On your end, at least.
“You gonna keep waving that thing around or are you going to actually do something with it?” You bite, breathing heavily a smile on your face. You didn’t need to breathe but it was still a habit.
“Why’re you here, huh? Why are you always around when something bad happens?”
“I could ask you the same thing. Now I’m never getting those fucking Siamese” You muttered as he scowled at you. You were going to threaten him one more time before staking him. He rolled his eyes, you were worse than spike. At least he had a soul. Wanted one. You were content with your lot and it bugged him to no end.
“You know, I think I might enjoy this” Angel said stoically.
“Watch out, you don’t want to get too happy” You teased with a smile, everyone knew about Angel – word travels fast even here, “Or maybe you do. You might be more fun, to be honest”
These was the last words he expected to hear from you, you were younger than him by a mile. He was used to vampires pretty easily going down. He moved his arm back, directing the wooden stake straight for your heart. In the same second, you changed into your vamp face and propelled your head forwards. Your hand twisted his wrist trying to knock the stake from his hand as you propelled your ridged forehead towards him. Headbutting him with all of your strength.
The stake pierced your skin, but luckily (or unluckily it still hurt like anything) it was stabbed into your left arm which made you yelp. You yelped almost as much as Angel in his surprise as his nose started to bleed. It was enough to stun him, letting you run off with the stake still sticking out of your arm as you took a short cut to your destination.
Angel walked back to the hotel slowly, pinching his nose and wiping the blood on his sleeve. He took the long route back, not wanting to have to tell the others that he had lost in a fight with a vampire who was probably half his age. When he returned Cordelia rushed over to him, helping him to sit down. The entire team was there, waiting up for him. Fantastic, now he would have to tell them.
“Oh, uh, Angel?” Fred asked softly, “This was left for you – on your desk”
He turned and there it was. The stake that had been embedded in your arm the last he saw you. You must have travelled fast to get there before he did. He took it as an act of aggression, especially when he read the note attached.
‘Until we meet again, sweet Angel’
“Is this your slayer friend?” Fred asked, looking down at the floor. She had taken somewhat of a shine to Angel and may have been a little jealous. She had just learned what a slayer was.
“She’s a little more dramatic, a little less with the subtle” Cordelia stated, knowing for sure that the person that brought it was not Buffy. Not at all.
“Yes, I recall the young woman is about as subtle as a brick” Wes chuckled softly, reminiscing over his brief stint as a watcher.
“No. it wasn’t her” Angel confirmed, turning and scowling, “Wes, I need everything you can find on a vamp. Name’s y/n”
“Y/n? Are you sure it is wise to, um, shake the hornets nest so to speak. They’ve done little to actively harm-” Wesley said quickly. A slightly sheepish look on his face. You had met him and helped him out several times. You often crossed paths late night at the occult book store. You weren’t afraid of losing your credibility over a little light reading.
Your intelligence was often what gave you the upper hand over many demons you came up against. Wesley was strangely fond of you, although he knew from word on the street you could be mean if something was in the way of what you wanted. He was pleasant enough although spending too long with him gave you an Englishman-induced headache. He does prattle on so. And, that phrase had been unfortunately transferred into your brain from listening to him for too long.
“Apart from, that they’re a vampire who brutally kills to eat and always seems to be in every bad situation we’ve been in recently” Angel snapped, “I want everything. By tomorrow night”
“What are you going to do?”
“Kill them”
It had been several more months and Angel had seen you several times in that period. He had yet to make good on his promise. The tension mounted, peaking every time you became close. Your back and forth riling you up, making you begin to pine for his attention.
He had noted that you had common goals, evil tended to get mowed down in your wake. Which, he couldn’t exactly complain about except that your personality was simultaneously infuriating and intriguing.
But he maintained that he didn’t like you. The way you danced through life, with no guilt. Very little self-reflection. You wouldn’t join him and that was enough, in his eyes for you to be against him.
This evening finds you on the hunt for a backstreet dealer, one that could find you an item that was particularly hard to find. Especially now Angel had a snitch on the inside, the deliveries were starting to slow. Dust couldn’t drive trucks.
You arrived at the meeting place, a dingy alleyway despite you specifically asking to meet somewhere that didn’t smell like something had died there. You had a very sensitive sense of smell.
“You got the stuff?” You asked, gesturing with your head for the demon to open the briefcase. But he snatched it from your grasp and the boss stepped from the shadows. This meant something more sinister.
“You helped him. We saw you” The scaly man with an impressively tailored suit accused.
“What?”
“Angel” He confirmed. Bad things happened to people who didn’t side with the boss. You knew this.
“I don’t pick allegiances, I told you. I’m just me” You assured them, eyes on the briefcase.
“You’re with us or you’re with him. Choose.”
“Fine.” You shrugged, the man nodded approvingly. It had been easier than he thought.
“Good, glad that you’re-” You spun into a kick, hitting his jaw which made him shut up. You hated people who gave you an ultimatum. You, for this very moment only, were on Angel’s side. Fists flying, feet connecting with hard bodies. You fought against them, hard.
More of them started to turn up. As if there had been a call. They started to surround you. You were strong, but not that strong. Your un-life flashed before your eyes. There was so much you had left to do. I mean, you had never even been to a virgin sacrifice. Never properly feasted on St Vigeous. You hadn’t even found your anti-soulmate.
You were almost ready to give up. And then he turned up. Your guardian angel.
Angel assessed the fight, realising you had been caught up. Not realising why it broke out. You fought beside each other, but traded insults with your ally. You found yourself waiting for these interactions with him. It made you smirk. This was the way you flirted.
You enjoyed this back and forth. He was starting to make you feel alive again. Begin to… hope.
The fight was finished and now all you both were was surrounded by dust. You took a breath. In name, not in action, recovering from the fight.
But he grabbed you by your shoulders, you had taken your guard down. He slammed you into the brick wall. The contact almost made you shiver as you smiled wide. You opened your mouth to speak, he was expecting it and spoke first.
“Don’t” He warned, frustrated at the way your eyes danced despite his threat.
“I’ve been waiting for this for months” You smirked, leaning closer to his face. There was barely an inch between you.
“Huh. Your death?”
“We’re already dead, baby, I’m looking more for the spice of life” You teased before leaning in and finally catching your lips with his. This had been all you had been thinking since you had first met him. The tension had reached its crescendo and you had to act.
It was an urgent kiss, you were willing him to reciprocate. His action beforehand made the adrenaline pump around your body harder. Want him more. There was danger harboured deep below the soul he cared for so deeply and it called to you like a moth to a flame.
You wanted him. You enjoyed every side you had seen so far. You didn’t understand why he was so reluctant to admit the tension in the air when you were around each other.
His lips didn’t move at first for those agonising moments. And then they did. All at once. His lips moving and fiery against yours, now fighting you for dominance. You tasted so good to him. A hand gripping your upper arm tightly with the other sliding up the curvature of your neck.
You slid your hands between the fabric of his shirt and his leather jacket, grasping at him. Your fingers snaked around him, exploring unchartered territory. He felt so good, you wanted him closer.
You found yourself almost preferring the feel of this more amiable touch to the harsh blows you had exchanged previously. He pressed you further into the wall, wanting more.
But all too quickly, his lips started to falter and you felt him start to pull away. He started to think too much into it. Comprehending the implications. You felt too good to him. You were a distraction, a sinful figure that strayed him from the power’s path. You almost whined as he pulled himself from where he had been pressed flush against you. He had to fight himself to remove his hands from you.
Your hands slid sadly from where they had been exploring his lean form. You felt yourself pouting slightly, which is a feat when you have fangs like you did.
His face had changed during your kiss, as had yours. Your vampire forms released as the tension did. Your more animalistic forms finding each other so appealing. The kiss a revelation, in some sense a curse. But again, he was used to that.
He pulled back, his face the picture of shock. It was the most emotion he had allowed you to see. So many contradictory emotions flashing behind his eyes. It had felt wrong, but oh so right to kiss you that way. He wanted more. He wanted to get as far away from you as possible.
You watched him in his turmoil, not able to hide the way you enjoyed seeing his face this way. You reached with your hand to trail along the distinctive bumps of his forehead. You couldn’t help it, you had suddenly begun to soften for him. Against your will. You wanted him to want you deeper than you had realised.
He realised that his vampire face was showing. He winced away from you, and you scanned over his face. He switched back immediately. Masking it.
He was ashamed. You frowned, your own vamp face still there. You embraced all that you were. You scanned his face, trying to show him that he could be himself with you. But he didn’t read that from your face.
He stepped back, all contact with him now gone. His eyes still trapped in yours for a moment. Your back was still pressed against the rough brick, your arm still outstretched for him.
But he just ran, jacket whipping around him as he kicked up his dust on way out of the alleyway. As if a magician through a puff of smoke, he was gone.
You eventually moved yourself from the wall, leaning to take the briefcase. You shrugged, dusting it off from the ash that had been left from the fight.
You walked slowly with your items, thoughts beginning to spin. Finding yourself lacking something deep inside that you had not realised you had been missing for so long.
#Angel#Angel btvs#Angel x reader#Angel x you#Angel imagine#ats#Angel the series#angel the series imagine#ats x reader#ats x you#ats imagine#vampire reader#gender not mentioned#gender neutral#Buffy The Vampire Slayer#buffy the vampire slayer imagines#btvs#btvs imagine#btvs x reader#btvs x you
143 notes
·
View notes
Text
↠ plaster
pairing: jungmo x reader
tags: high school!au, play!au, clumsy!Reader, fluff
warnings: minor explicit language
— “um... does anyone know where i can find a plaster?”
a/n: ha! its a miracle! she’s updated with an imagine! :P n e ways i think my plan is too update with an imagine once every 1-2 months...? my writer’s block is horrible :’(
Senior year.
The year everyone had been dreading, just one more step until they're out of this hell hole. And yet, what seems like the most relieving thing in the world, it takes one play, one role to mess it up for him.
His brown irises skim through the pinned papers on the school's pinboard, hoping for his name to turn out in the 'extras' parts. But the more he scans fir his name, the more his stomach drops.
Until he'd found his name.
Jungmo groans, the tips of his eyes dropping in sync with his grimacing lips. His fist hits the wall hard, startling one of his classmates.
"Hey, what's up man... oh, you got the role lead! Bro, that's awesome!"
It doesn't help the fact that everyone's congratulating him for something he clearly didn't intentionally aim for. He'd actually slacked his audition, but maybe that's what got him the spoiled prince's role.
"A-Ah, please, it's... not that great." He stammers, rather out of frustration more than humbleness. He rubs the back of his neck in s repeated, eager matter, the endless praises ticking him off even more.
~
"Aw, come on, Mogu! Embrace the prince in you!" Minhee emphasizes into his mic, followed by a fit of immature cackling from himself and Woobin. Jungmo clicks his tongue of annoyance, "This senior play can suck my a-"
"Cheer up, Jungmo. You're the center of attention-"
"That's just it! Sure, I'd like the fame and stuff, but for a stupid prince role? Come on, dude. No thanks."
Jungmo sighs out of exasperation, slouching further into his seat. He mutters a curse followed by the younger's name, cracking a smirk when Minhee doesn't bother to hide his whimper mixed with the sound of him shuffling against his bed sheets.
"Right, my guys, I'm heading out. I'm tired from all this fame," He concludes with a yawn, stretching his arms in front of himself, nodding in content when he hears his bone sockets pop (or crack, if you say it like that).
"Alright, g'night, princey." Minhee snickers. Woobin chuckles, "Yeah, lights out for you, your highness."
Jungmo mumbles a few sleepy slurs under his breath, clearing his throat as he disconnects from the FaceTime. He's so frustrated that he'd clicked a button one too many times, and his phone lags aren't helping.
Tomorrow's rehearsals are going to be hell.
~
"Is this okay?" A girl— who Jungmo had just realized was looking at him suggestively— mumbles lowly, her voice probably raspy on purpose as she measures his waist down with a measuring tape. She licks her lips and nibbles on the bottom one, but it really looks like she's trying to find the stuck piece of broccoli between her teeth with her tongue.
He gulps thickly, finding the situation not to his liking. "...it's not okay?" He answers rather in a questioning tone. She laughs, obviously not taking his answer seriously and resting her hand to his chest, "You're really funny."
He's had enough. He's uncomfortable, and really, really hot in this stuffy room with other people in the play who wouldn't care about his sticky situation. He's close to slapping this girl. That is, until the door opens slowly.
Jungmo's attention strays from the attempting girl to whoever had just come in, realizing that from the door was the only natural light that illuminates in the room. He ceiling lights make him sleepy, maybe because of how boring and dull it was.
Seeing the first ray on sunlight since a while caused him to squint when it shone directly at his eyes, the air now smelling grassy from the field directly outside the dusty storage room the students had (for some reason) voted to measure for costumes in.
"Um... does anyone know where I can find a plaster?" You ask softly, but loud enough to catch everyone's attention. It's quiet for a brief moment, and you panic internally, as if you'd just interrupted a starved wolf's meal.
But one of your classmates wave over for you, to which you scurry over to with a relieved sigh.
Jungmo's eyes couldn't leave your figure. He admired the nice taste in clothes you've spent all morning picking out, and your messy hair tied into a lazy style. He watched you wrap on the plaster around your finger, your tongue sticking out a little out of habit.
He doesn't know why, he really doesn't, but it makes him smile, seeing you struggle with the sticky side of the plaster.
"Hey," Jungmo finally says to the previous suggestive girl, and he fights down the urge to just cringe when she bats her lashes at him while purring out a response. He gestures his head towards your direction, "do you know who that is?"
"Oh, the clutz kid? Don't even bother-- she's lame, and always clumsy with herself." The girl rolls her eyes, twirling the ends of her hair. "She's came in for another plaster— She's clearly only pricking herself for some attention while making the play fits."
She makes the play's outfits? By hand?
Jungmo's impressed, and intrigued. He won't let this chance slip.
~
"Craaap," You hiss out, leaning your head back against the wall. It's the fifth time you've hurt yourself with the same needle. Yui snickers, "Should I get you another coke?"
"What? Why coke?" "...well, I'm getting coke, you want some?" "...yes please. I'll go look for some plasters... again."
She nods with a playful hum, dashing off to the vending machine all the way across the building. Sucking on the sweet, metallic tasting fluid from your finger, you slowly stand up, mentally preparing yourself for another trip for plasters.
That is-- until a sudden voice calls out a 'hey,'.
Turning around, your brows ride up in surprise when you see a tall boy clad in a black hoodie leaning on the wall you had been sitting against.
"Yeah?" You answer quietly, retracting your finger from your lips. The boy reaches up to scratch the back of his head with one hand as the other rummages into his hoodie's pouch.
"Well, uh, I noticed you were looking for some plasters a while ago, and um... figured you were clumsy. So I got you a pack," He reaches out, and you see a box of plasters.
Your chest tightens at his thoughtful actions. Stranger or not, he sure knew how to swoon people-- or at least, you.
"O-Oh! So it's obvious I'm pretty messy, huh?" You jest, accepting the box from his hand. He shrugs, "Eh, who isn't? Messy is good sometimes, right?"
"Right," You repeat, tearing the box open slowly. You spot more crimson seeping from your skin, which causes you to grab a plaster in a hurried matter.
Now, five minutes later, here you are back on the floor next to the kind boy who had bought you the pack of plasters.
"Thank you, by the way." You turn to him, a smile gracing your lips. The side of his lips quirks up, "Don't mention it, uh... I didn't catch your name."
"Y/N."
You extend a palm, and he grins at the amount of plasters it's covered in.
"Jungmo."
He envelopes your hand in his bigger one, a firm shake being the first step to a great connection.
#koo jungmo#cravity#cravity imagines#kang minhee#seo woobin#cravity x reader#jungmo imagines#park serim#allen ma#song hyeongjun#kim taeyoung#ahn seongmin#ham wonjin#produce x 101#x1
42 notes
·
View notes
Text
Red (Redfinch)
Despite their breakup, Albert still wanted to go see Finch perform in one of his concerts when Race asked him if he wanted to come. This is the perfect chance for them to talk things out again but words aren’t cooperating for either of them. With that, Finch decides to triy a different form of communication.
Words : 5233
Part : -
Warnings : Alcohol, cursing, cigarettes, angst in general
A/N : Woah that’s a crazy word count uhh,,,, hi i’m back with another fic. Another redfinch and for that we stan lol (well idk maybe yall are annoyed by all these redfinch fics but yknow what? i’m thriving off of it) But fr I’ll eventually get into writing other ships but for now have one more redfinch combined with another tswift songs (as you do) this time with Red. Wow we are so surprised who would have thought of redfinch being associated with the song red no we aren’t surprise :D This one specifically exists in my bandsies au. you don’t need to read that first to understand this (i think?) but it wouldn’t hurt if you checked that out as well:) Tbh i can’t decide whether i love it or hate it but at least i like it enough to post it. N ee wayysss enjoy!!
His brain is screaming about how much Albert shouldn’t be doing this. Comprising a list of cons that goes on forever. And although he thinks all of the cons his brain had written is logical, that one pro his heart wrote beside the long list was all it took for Al to say yes. All the cons will be worth suffering through if he finally gets to see Finch again. And maybe it’s for the better since he’s not doing well by distancing himself from the boy.
Unfortunately, the world isn’t black and white. Meaning that even if he did choose to follow what his heart wants, all the horrible feelings will still be there. And with every step he takes, inching closer to the entrance of the building, he’s getting even more terrified by the second. Thankfully, the line for the entrance is going pretty slow which gives time for Albert to calm down.
But it’s not helping. The line is crowded and full of fans, talking excitedly about the band’s awaiting concert inside. For some odd reason, he can only hear the conversations between fans that contain one specific name. He doesn’t hear anyone mentioning Romeo, Elmer, or Jojo’s name. Not even Crutchie, who he’s been told to be the fans’ favorite. Just the name Finch, being repeated all around him. With adoration and excitement lacing the name. The line is delaying the inevitable and the people around him makes him a bit overwhelmed.
“We can still turn around if you want. I’m sure they’ll find a way to give us a refund”
If he’s actually being honest, it was his best friend that got him to come. Race returned to their shared apartment a few weeks ago and rushed to ask Albert if he wanted to go see their friends performing tonight. Race knows about Al and Finch’s break up but it’s worth asking him first. And to his surprise, he said yes.
“No, it’s fine” Albert replied, “I’m fine”
“You’re picking your pimples right now”
“So?”
“It’s one of your nervous habits”
That piece of information really caught Al off guard. He didn’t think a tiny random fact about himself would actually corner him the way Race is doing now. Eyeing Albert through his glasses and raising his eyebrows despite his forehead being mostly covered by his beanie.
“Well… I-” Albert tried to come up with bullshit as fast as he could, “I like to do it on purpose too, alright?! My fingers just... get a little itchy!”
He slowly puts his hands down from previously reaching up to pick his face. And the line is still going slow, one step at a time. It’s not doing any favors for Al.
“Dude, it’s alright if you’re not ready to see him” Race continued, “It takes time, I get it”
“Race, I’ll be fine! How many more times do I have to tell you?” Albert argued, which finally made Race back down. And to make sure it’s no longer gonna be brought up, Al changes the subject, “By the way, where’s Specs and Mike? You said they’re watching too”
“They’re already backstage with the others for... obvious reasons” Race answered casually, catching on to Albert's intentions to change the subject. “So is Kath, by the way. We’ll meet her in there though”
To that, Albert simply nods. His jittery movements turn into rocking his body on the ball of his feet while digging his lips with his teeth. Race tries to pretend he doesn’t notice, but he does. Albert knows he does. Although he’s glad he’s not bringing it up because it might make it worse.
He’d be lucky to know that he’s not the only one panicking over this. In the dressing room, an aggravated Finch throws his phone to the cushion of the couch after sending the last text to his friend Race. It sounds unlawful for Race to be ‘secretly updating’ Finch on how Albert is actually doing because it’s obviously something Albert doesn’t want to directly tell his ex.
Finch groans, placing his elbow on his armchair to support his head. The room is spinning in his view and he wishes it all to stop. Taking deep and long breaths to stabilize his shaky limbs. A little prayer starts playing in his heart, it follows the tempo of his fast heartbeat.
“He’s here, isn’t he?”
Finch opens his eyes and looks up to meet his bandmate sitting on the couch across from him. He hadn’t even been talking for a good hour because he’s too fixated with the first text Race sent him when he and Al first started making their way to the concert.
“Yeah, he’s in line” Finch replied, looking up to the blond boy who’s holding his bass.
“How are they not being mobbed?” Another voice rang. This time it’s not coming from one of Finch’s bandmates. It’s coming from Race and Albert’s bandmate, sitting next to the shortest member of Finch’s band on the couch.
Specs only ask that because their two bands have a long connecting history and their fanbase tends to be sort of the same in a way. With Specs dating Romeo and Mike dating Jojo, Race and Albert are bound to be recognized and mobbed by at least a few fans. Especially seeing that Albert is Finch’s former lover, although the fans know that as a rumor since the two never publicly addressed it.
“I’m assuming they’re wearing a lot of shit to cover their faces” Another answered, the other VIP of the show alongside Specs, Mike. He’s twirling his drink in his hand while the other keeps Jojo cuddled close to him, “I mean, Al’s head is really fucking bright!”
With the mention of that specific name, Finch sulks back in his armchair with a groan. He covers his face with his hands, hoping it’d make the world just stop for one second. He could hear a loud clean slap echoing the room, followed by overlaps of whispered scolding. If he had to guess, it was Mike who was the one getting slapped and scolded.
“This is a disaster…” Finch exclaimed to himself, still not lifting his face up.
“It doesn’t have to be unless you make it like that” this time a feminine voice spoke up. A voice he recognized to belong to Kath.
Finch hears footsteps approaching him. He feels the motion of someone softly kneeling down in front of him. His hands were gently pried open and he was met with Kath’s friendly smile.
“It takes time, but you gotta trust the process”
It’s not necessarily the words he needed to hear right now, but it still warms his heart to hear his friend still being there for him despite the sticky situation he has gotten them into.
Everything would’ve been just fine if Finch hadn’t been so pushy and upset over Albert’s decision. He was the one that decided to put his music career on hold to go get that engineering degree, which frankly seems pretty useless. Finch was so dirty for pulling the ‘you’re being selfish’ card at him when it’s not even his band at all. Race, Specs, Mike, Ike, and even their manager Denton were very supportive about his decision to get that degree. Heck, all their friends were! But not Finch. His boyfriend at the time. He argued like he secretly knew how the others felt about Al leaving when really there aren’t any secret feelings for him to know. All his arguments came from his own feelings.
However, he knows Albert’s ‘own decision’ was secretly coated by his father’s persuasive words. The whole ‘just in case the music career doesn’t work out’ argument was basically the copy and pasted words from his father. They both know it. Despite the arguments, it still seemed that Al was determined to fully focus on college anyways. Instead of following his fellow musician friends’ college path by getting a degree in the non-lecture-hall way, he followed his father’s words and actually attended his college classes in a proper campus.
In the moment, Finch was just too focused on Albert leaving. Maybe he was the one being selfish. He had only realize now that most of his arguments were because he didn’t want Albert to go. It’s too late now, since the last time they saw each other was when Al slammed the door of their apartment one last time with all his stuff and a plane ticket to Seattle. At that point, Finch was finally tired of all the arguing and told him that if this was his plan then he’s on his own.
The tears that came after were filled with sorrow and regret. Sorrowful because he missed him. Regretful because he only realized then that there was no valid reason for Finch to lash out in the first place other than for his own needs. The feeling is still present to this moment. And it’s currently the strongest right before a show because he knows he’s gonna be in the crowd.
“Look, we’ll let ya drown out your feelings with some booze later” Crutchie finally said, “But right now we got a show”
The band was all getting up from where they were seated, bringing whatever they needed to the stage. Crutchie gets some help from Jojo to bring his Bass till he properly sits on the stool on stage. But Finch stays perfectly still, holding Kath’s hand as if his life depends on it.
“I know I should talk to ‘im, Kath” Finch finally said, slowly joining the others in standing up. Kathrine follows along, eyes still fixed to her friend, “But… I can’t. I wouldn’t know what to say to him”
“Then don’t talk” Mike suddenly inserts himself in their little conversation. He gets up and approaches the two, “Sing him the new single”
“You’re fucking insane, Mike!” Katherine instantly snapped.
“Alright, your mouth will be legally sealed shut till the end of the concert” Specs joins them only to drag Mike away. There were some protests from the boy, but it was totally shut down by everyone else in the room.
“No, wait. He’s got a point” Finch suddenly exclaimed, which quickly got the whole room to freeze in time.
He looks at his bandmates, all standing by the doorway ready to kill the concert. A half confident smile appears on his face and he says, “Let’s sing that single”
-
The concert is held in a bar like-venue with multiple floors, slowly being filled to the brim by excited fans. Their excitement bounces off the walls of the venue, creating an ecstatic kind of environment despite the tight space. The concert is going to start any minute now and while the fans surrounding him are shaking in excitement, Albert is shaking in a nervous fit.
“Still okay there, Al?”
Albert looked to his side, seeing his good friend Kathrine looking up to meet his eyes with concern. She had just joined the boys in the midst of the crowd after hanging out behind the stage with the band.
“What? Yeah, I’m okay” He replied, “What makes you think I’m not?”
“You’re squeezing my hand a little too tight”
Al had only realized he’s been holding Kath’s hand just now. His brain was too focused on his fears about meeting Finch again to the point that he hasn’t been paying attention to his surroundings. He gets bashful all of a sudden, cheeks going a bit warm, harshly pulling away from her grasp.
“It’s okay, you can hold my hand if you want,” Katherine said gently.
“Kath, I’m fine!” Albert said, “Why won’t you and Race believe me?”
“Because we know it’s utter bullshit”
The pair looked back towards the crowd behind them where the familiar voice originated from. There, Race struggles through a sea of people with two drinks in hand. Oddly enough, he still seems to stand the heat despite still wearing his face disguise. A white cotton mask, black-framed glasses, and a grey beanie mostly providing cover for his blond curls. While Al, seeing that the venue is pretty dark and speculations has led him to believe that the fans would be focused on the concert rather than the people attending it, had already put away his mask. However, his fears still made him wear his snapback and grey-framed glasses just in case.
Albert takes his rightful drink, and with a free hand, Race takes off his own mask and stuffs it in his pockets. He complains about the stuffiness from wearing the mask all while doing so, which made Kath laugh. It appears the Albert-scolding has been forgotten for the time being, as Kath and Race starts engaging in their own conversation, which Al doesn’t mind because he’d much like to down his beer quickly.
And then the concert finally starts.
An exciting intro starts playing as the band enters the stage. The wild crowd welcoming the band is deafening to Albert’s ear. Time freezes and everything in between fades away. All he sees is Finch, up on stage wearing a smile brighter than the lighting of the venue itself. He’s using his old dark green guitar. The same one he uses when he’s writing songs in bed or when he just feels like strumming the strings. Albert remembers the memoirs of all the guitar string scars he had earned throughout the years of knowing him. Some of them were even caused by Albert himself.
Lucky that Finch hasn’t noticed Albert has been staring at him the whole time. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of the boy since the start of the first song, shimmering under the spotlight with amazing vocals. Laughing about at his fellow bandmates’ antics on stage. Oh, that laugh. It gives him butterflies in his stomach like it was the first time hearing it.
He can feel two pairs of familiar eyes on him. But he’s too far gone to care. Albert really did make a big mistake for letting Finch go that easy. Because at the end of his previous college days, he still loves him and misses him dearly. His little Finchy. It doesn’t matter to Al anymore if Race and Katherine are eyeing him with sorrow or the whole world were to look at him weirdly for fixating his own eyes towards the beautiful boy on stage. He was his beautiful boy. Good lord, does he long to see the days when he got to call Finch his.
“Holy shit, I fucked up” Albert muttered under his breath, only Kath and Race could hear it, “I should’ve never had left”
His friends were definitely not expecting Albert to verbally exclaim his regret. They already knew from the start despite the redhead’s previous denials. But hearing him say it just makes it all more real. Even Albert himself was hit by a truck of reality just by loudly announcing it.
“Well, now you know” Katherine started, gentle voice on the same volume as his own despite the volume of their current surroundings being incredibly loud, “Go tell him that after the show”
“I can’t. I shouldn’t” Albert replied, fully turning away from the stage to properly look at his friends. A glint of sorrow and desperation flashes before his face, “I might make things worse!”
“Well, you’ll never know till you try” Race said, sounding a little hesitant at the start. He offered a warm smile at his friend and a hand on his shoulder, since there isn’t much he could do in the moment.
With a heavy sigh, Albert turns back towards the stage only to witness the biggest surprise of his life. Finch looked back. Straight into Albert’s eyes, it pierced right through to get his heart thumping loudly in his ears. He just realized the song the band was previously playing had ended and they were waiting for the fans to quiet down. While Romeo playfully over-dramatize his thank you’s to the crowd and gets scolded by Elmer and Crutchie, Finch was continuously staring at Albert. The hands that were previously used to play with his guitar hang idly because his center of attention wasn’t at his instrument right now.
It might just be some form of hallucination Al retained from the high, but Finch seemed to be smiling at him a little. Just a little curve at the end of his lips while he’s still staring back.
Albert doesn’t know how to interpret this other than to just stare back. Deep down, his heart is flipping in all kinds of ways and his thought process is no longer comprehensible. He’s trying to read the other boy’s emotions but it’s too neutral to tell. Other than the fact that he’s smiling a little at him but that still doesn’t give him a proper answer.
Eventually Finch becomes the first one to look away, seeing that the audience had settled down for the band. Albert’s eyes were still glued to Finch, retaining his focus back to the concert. He opens his mouth for a moment to say something into his microphone, although he unexpectedly stopped. The flow of words seemed to cut short. He saved himself by pulling himself away from the microphone up front and towards the rest of his bandmates. Judging from the body language, they seem to be whispering.
“What’s happening?” Albert whispered, more to himself rather than to his friends.
“I’m not sure…” Race replied, taking a step closer to where Al is standing.
The band kept the discussion short and quickly got back to their places. Finch seems to hesitate the second time he opens his mouth to speak. But this time, he gets the words out.
“Uhh… sorry ‘bout that. I uhh… I just got the urge to go a bit out of our fixed setlist and uhh… hope you guys don’t mind” Finch explained with a little giggle at the end. The crowd couldn’t care less and cheered on. Finch smile widens at the agreement, “We thought we’d give ya an early access to our newest single that hasn’t been released yet”
A euphoric feeling passed through the crowd as the cheering got louder. It baffled Finch so much that he laughed into his mic.
“Oh my god, they’re actually doing it” Katherine commented under her breath.
But Al’s ears were sharp enough to catch it. He snaps his head around to face the girl behind him, “Do what?”
Katherine was rendered speechless to that question, despite obviously knowing what’s going on. Albert turns to Race but he has no idea. He finally turns back to the stage where Finch’s gaze was already waiting to be returned by Al himself.
Without breaking the gaze, Finch speaks into the mic with a little smile, “It’s called ‘Red’”
It was Albert’s turn to be speechless. He had no knowledge of a new single since he’s mostly been staying away from his ex’s social media for the sole purpose of moving on, which he had failed miserably. And none of his friends had told him anything about a single that’s title was a secret language only Finch and Albert share, littered with all sorts of vintage romance.
“Holy shit…” Race exclaimed, “...I had no idea they were gonna play this song”
The opening of the song starts with Jojo lightly plucking a few strings of his acoustic guitar. The crowd goes wild once again, energy bouncing off one wall to the other.
“Loving him is like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street
Faster than the wind, passionate as sin, ending so suddenly”
Crutchie sang the first line smoothly. At this point the other’s had joined in with their instrument. Finch fully ignoring the crowd and focused on looking at Al. Those blue eyes are trying to send a message to Albert and it’s being coded with the song they’re currently playing.
The song had carried on till it reached the chorus. All the instruments peaked at that moment and collaborated with each other to create a very euphoric sound. The crowd jumps along to the beat of the song along with a loud cheering, obviously enjoying the tune they have yet to listen to. Some were holding up cameras to capture this moment, most likely to later share it with the fans that didn’t get the chance to witness it live.
At this point, Finch had turned his face away from Al. There was a troubling look in his expression but it was quickly covered by closing his eyes as if he’s trying to concentrate on singing the chorus with the others. But Al is no fool. He knows that look on Finch’s face is when he’s trying to avoid something, and that something is him.
“Losing him was blue, like I'd never known
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know
Somebody you never met
But loving him was red”
The words moved something in Al. It was written in a way Albert recognized it to be Finch’s writing style. Every single part of the song. From the melody, the chord progression, even the lyrics. Especially the lyrics.
“Fighting with him was like trying to solve a crossword
And realizing there's no right answer
Regretting him was like wishing you never found out
That love could be that strong”
As Finch harmonized that line with Jojo, he stole a little sad side glance at Albert. The song returns to the chorus once again, Finch gets dragged with the beat and lightly moves his body along.
Albert gets captivated along with the music. He can feel the corner of his lips slightly rising up, which is pretty ironic seeing that Finch is singing a breakup song about them. Maybe because he’s relieved to hear Finch sing about how he’s not fully over him. Or maybe it’s because he gets to see Finch embracing the break up, which could potentially mean that he’s okay with it. But whatever it is, he’s happy seeing Finch like this. Or just seeing him in general.
“Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes
Tell myself it's time now gotta let go
But moving on from him is impossible
When I still see it all in my head”
The chord progression’s pattern slightly changed. Finch sings his line into the microphone, closing his eyes as if to soak up all the intoxicating energy he gets from the crowd. Of people flailing their hands into the sky and a loud chorus of undecipherable shouting. But at the last line, he steals a proper glance back at Albert.
“In burning red”
The lyrics really says it all. There’s no more hidden message that Albert needs to decipher, as it's being presented right in front of him.
Finch takes over the next part of the song, shredding his guitar which makes the crowd go wild. At the moment, it looks like he’s feeling himself. Moving along with the motion of his fingers that creates each note.
“Oh, losing him was blue, like I'd never known
Missing him was dark gray, all alone
Forgetting him was like trying to know
Somebody you never met
'Cause loving him was red”
The song is supposed to be a punch to Albert’s guts, and yet he finds himself laughing at it. He catches a glimpse of Finch’s eyes, sneaking its way to look back at Albert every so often. And this time, he wears a smile while jumping along to the song. And it made Al smile back.
“His love was like driving a new Maserati down a dead end street”
As the song ended, the fans went wild. The look on Finch’s face seems satisfied at the success of the single they have yet been released to the world, shining at the sight of a hype crowd. He steals one last glance at Albert with a little smile on his face. Albert would dare to say he’s being a bit shy. To that, Albert smiles back with a disbelief laugh escaping his lips before Finch pulls his gaze away from the other boy.
After playing a few more songs, the concert ended. There was only one thing in Albert’s mind, which was talking to Finch. Race and Albert quickly put their disguise back on before the crowd had realized who they were as they exited the venue. The three stay behind as the venue gets emptied, Race and Katherine making quick work with their fingers on their phones to contact their friends backstage.
Jojo was the first to respond to either of them. He said that Finch is smoking behind the venue alone. One could only assume that he’s not in his best state after spontaneously choosing to sing that single. But Jojo assured them that he’s still good to talk to. Crutchie then responded, saying that Specs and Mike can pick them up to get them into the backstage.
It didn’t take them long, but Albert wasn’t keen on seeing the others right now. After being pointed towards the back door, Albert was already off. Adrenaline coursing through his veins as he makes quick steps towards it.
He gently opens the door, to avoid surprising the boy in case he was nearby. Albert steps out to a parking lot, open-spaced with another parking lot above it as its roof. At a first glance it was completely empty, only a few lights turned on to keep the area lit. His eyes gandered even further and spotted the boy he was looking for, back facing Al and his body leaning on metal bars as he enjoyed the nightlife of the city.
Albert took a deep breath to calm his adrenaline, slowing down his walking pace. The area is eerily quiet. Only a few things that can be heard: his footsteps, his thumping heart, and the sounds coming from the streets three stories below them. With every step closer, he slowly unraveled his makeshift disguise. Shoving his mask and glasses in the pockets of his jeans but left the snapback on.
“‘Loving him was red’” Albert said to catch Finch’s attention, “Did you mean it to be that obvious?”
Finch didn’t fully turn his head around, only halfway so Al can see the little grin of amusement forming on his face. A little chuckle escaped his lips, causing his chest to pulse along before he continued, “Not really. But it has a nice ring to it”
Albert takes a few steps closer towards the metal bars, leaning his body on it like what Finch is doing. Now he can clearly see the half burnt cigarette on Finch’s hand. Al tries to make eye contact with him, but Finch is purposely turning his head the other way and giving Albert his head full of blond curls.
“You came back” Finch suddenly said, voice hushed and low.
“Of course I came back” Albert replied, “You didn’t think I’d fully leave like that, did’ja?”
“Well, no. It’s just that you seemed so hellbent on going to college”
Albert slowly nods at that, moving his gaze towards the streets below like the other boy. They sit in the silence for a few minutes. Hearing different vehicles pass by the street below them and honking from the distance.
“Finch, I’m so sorry I left ya like that” Albert suddenly started, fully turning his face towards him. He couldn’t find a way to word it and so he resorted to just telling him the truth. Finch stays quiet to let him continue, “I was an idiot to let ya go that easily and all because I was selfish”
“You weren’t actually being selfish” Finch said, smiling a little at his words, “You did it because you wanted to. And it wasn’t hurting anyone anyways”
“It did. It hurt you”
Finch turns his head towards Albert. Now their eyes are looking into each other closer than before. The closest they’ve ever been since their breakup. A mixture of unsaid emotions made the gaze feel so intimate and it terrifies Al a bit.
“I hurt myself trying to get you to stay” Finch said softly. His next words got stuck in his throat. He gives his brain a few seconds to focus with a sigh out of his mouth and dragging his gaze away from Al, “I knew you never wanted to get that engineering degree in the first place which is another reason I didn’t want you to go. But at the end of the day, it was your decision to make and not mine. I lashed out on you and said you were selfish but… I was the one that was being selfish”
Finch turns his eyes back towards Al, his face looks more sorrowful than before, “I’m sorry”
A small smile formed on Al’s face, tilting his head to the side by a few inches, “It ain’t your fault for knowing me more than I know myself”
They leave the conversation at that for the time being. Letting the streets below fill the void of their silence. Both boys focusing their gaze towards the view they got from this height they’re on again. Finch and Albert left speechless at each other’s words.
Albert’s hands unconsciously reach up to his forehead, itching to pick a pimple like earlier. His next words almost got stuck in his throat but he was able to pull through just enough to get to his point, “Well, at the end of the day we uhh… we both fucked up. Fucked our relationship, that’s for sure-”
“Stop picking on your pimples, Al” Finch casually said. The surprise look on Al’s face got Finch to side eye him with a giggle.
Al pulled his fingers away, stuttering in his movements but still continued on his words with more confidence, “What I’m trying to say is… I want to try again as long as you’re willing to”
There was a good few seconds of silence that Finch used to just stare at him. Albert could only wonder what he’s thinking about inside that head, “So we just… what? Forget the breakup ever happened? Move back in together? You know I can’t just do that, right?”
“That’s not what I mean. We don’t need to rush things. I know you can’t do that” Albert said, “Just… let me start by making it up to you? Whatever you want. Just name it”
Finch didn’t respond instantly, letting the silence between them linger for a few more minutes. But it’s deeply agonizing to Albert’s ears. A blank space of two eyes locked in a gaze, and one is obviously dying to get out of it.
“Please, say something” Albert begged. Hands suddenly reaching back up to his face to pick on his pimples again.
With a free hand, Finch reaches towards Al’s hand on his face. He pulls it down to the bars, holding it in place to make sure it doesn’t repeat its mistakes again. The grip was firm, but warm and calming to Albert’s soul. It made him go blank for a good few seconds from being so touch deprived of Finch’s soft hands. He retains his sense of reality when their eyes finally meet again.
With a little smile forming on Finch’s face, he finally answers, “I’d like that very much”
#random writing#newsies#redfinch#redfinch newsies#albert dasilva#albert newsies#finch cortez#finch newsies#tw cursing#tw alcohol#tw cigarettes#tw angst#validate me pls and thanku:)#unless you don't ship redfinch#which is understandable
23 notes
·
View notes
Text
prove it (m)
“How could he not see how this was all affecting you? Why didn’t he realize you needed him to be present in your life? But as much as you needed him to be one hundred percent here for you, a part of you would just rather have him one hundred percent gone.”
[boyfriend!jeongguk x girlfriend!reader]
genre: estranged relationship!au, smut, some angst
word count: 4.9k
rating: mature
warnings: mutual masturbation, jealousy, language
a/n: this is another reupload! i went back and reread this and, honestly, it’s not too shabby. granted, it’s not that complex, but i enjoyed writing this estranged relationship between jk and the reader. kind of want to write a follow up. let me know lol. xoxo
Long distance relationships suck.
Even for the strongest of people, separation is never easy. Ideally, everyone wants to believe that not being with the person they love all the time isn’t a big deal. However, after a while, there are different factors that cause major stress in a relationship.
There’s a lack of communication sometimes; you can’t physically see them often, so you resort to the basic text and phone call. Still, it’s not the same. Seeing someone through a phone is vastly different than physically being with them. There’s a lack of intimacy too; no holding hands, late night cuddles. Your toys and hands can only do so much, unfortunately.
Being long distance wasn’t always the case for you and Jeongguk, but it became a reality when you both decided to attend different universities.
Early in your relationship, you both avoided talks about the future. In the back of your mind, you already knew that you both had different plans for college. But you didn’t want to admit it out loud—not even to him.
A part of you was afraid about the longevity of your relationship. Most long-distance relationships, and even more so with high school relationships, don’t really make it. But you loved Jeongguk; you don’t think you’ll ever be able to love anyone else as much. As cheesy as it may sound, he’s your other half. You knew that there were others out there, but you didn’t want anyone else.
“You’ll call me every day, yeah?” you asked him the day you both graduated.
“Of course,” he caressed your arm. “Every day.”
The first semester at college, you both talked nearly every day. And you were happy; so happy that despite the distance, not much had changed. Even with your different schedules, you both still made time for each other. You both even visited each other—you went to see him during Halloween, and he surprised you before your finals.
But of course, life gets in the way.
After the first winter break, the communication between you two dwindled. And after that first summer, everything changed. Even when you both did happen to be home, you barely had the time to talk let alone hang out. You found out more about Jeongguk’s life from his Instagram account than you did directly from him. Every time you scrolled onto his page, countless pictures of him partying and hanging out with his friends filled your screen—and yet, no time to give you a quick phone call. It was frustrating.
You considered calling it quits multiple times—what is the use of being with someone if you both don’t act like a couple? It was so bad; you couldn’t even remember the last time you two were in the same room. But every time you brought up the issue, Jeongguk did some redeemable act and you forgave him instantly.
It seemed to be a never-ending cycle.
And now, even though you both were well into your third year in college, Jeongguk was still tethering you on a string. How could he not see how this was all affecting you? Why didn’t he realize you needed him to be present in your life? But as much as you needed him to be one hundred percent here for you, a part of you would just rather have him one hundred percent gone.
***
3:14 PM | Jeongguk: I’ll call you later
3:15 PM | You: for real?
You watched the text bubble pop up for a few seconds before disappearing. And when it disappears, it doesn’t pop up again. A sigh leaves your mouth as you drop your phone onto the table.
“Are you texting him?”
Looking up, you make eye contact with your friend Taehyung. “Yeah…”
“And?” Taehyung prompts you to finish your sentence.
“And…he said he’ll call me later,” you say, “but these types of texts from Jeongguk are pointless and disappointing.”
You met Taehyung your first year at college, and immediately hit it off. You helped him with his math homework, and he paid you back by listening to all of your Jeongguk drama. Sometimes you wished you could fall for Taehyung—a relationship with him was bound to be easier than the one you had right now—but he was already in a deeply committed relationship with the cute librarian assistant, Jimin.
“I mean, at least he texted you, right?” your friend attempts to make you feel better, but you feel anything but that.
“I guess.”
“Well don’t be too hard on yourself, buttercup,” Taehyung smiles, “because today is not the day to be down in the dumps!”
Half the time, you have no idea what the words that came out of his mouth even mean. “What are you talking about?”
“Don’t you remember?” You have no idea. “It’s Hoseok’s birthday tonight!”
After a few moments, the gears in your head begin moving and you remember Taehyung mentioning something about it last week. You aren’t really close with Hoseok though; he’s Taehyung’s friend and a member of the soccer team, so it slipped your mind.
You have only chatted with Hoseok twice; once was at a party freshman year and you were wasted, and the second was in line for coffee at Starbucks; but you were pretty sure he had no idea who you were. “But I don’t really even know him.”
“Y/n, he doesn’t care who comes; hell, I think he invited the entire school. Besides, I already told him that you’re my plus one since Jimin can’t make it.”
Even though it was a Friday, you were not in the mood to do anything. All you wanted was to return back to your apartment and sleep until Monday rolled around. “Tae…”
“It’ll take your mind off of Jeongguk,” he says in a sing-song voice.
And he’s right—it will be a distraction from your issues in the love department. You think about it for a moment before deciding to hell with it; you’re going to allow yourself to enjoy tonight. “Okay fine, I’ll go.”
Taehyung gets up in that moment and engulfs you in a hug, which attracts the stares of many people in the room. “Thanks y/n!”
“I think you can let me go now,” you pat his back and he lets you go with an airy oh.
“Okay, well, I’ll swing by your place at around seven and then we’ll goooooo!”
You laugh at his enthusiasm and bid your friend goodbye as you both leave. You’re pretty sure Taehyung has a class, but he’s going the opposite direction…so you’re not sure what he’s doing. But you don’t think too much about it and make it back to your apartment. There, you greet your roommate, Nana.
“Hey, girl hey,” she smiles, and you’re struck once again by how pretty she is.
You and Nana have been roommates since you both started going to school here. Most people don’t end up living with their first roommate their entire stay at college, but you both got along well and there has never been a problem. Also, you two just knew too much about each other’s living habits at this point to live with other people.
“Hi,” you smile back, setting your things down before falling down onto the couch beside her.
“So, how was your day?”
Since you both are juniors and have busy schedules, it seems like you never really get to see each other. Which sucks because you honestly consider Nana to be your best friend, besides Taehyung of course.
“It’s been okay,” you begin, “I barely passed my exam in history and managed to turn in my paper for lit right before the deadline…and Jeongguk texted me.”
“Jeongguk texted you?” she only seems to pick up the last bit you said.
“Yep,” you pop the end of the word.
“How’d that go?”
You give her a look, “Horrible.”
Nana gives you a sympathetic smile, “Sorry boo that you have such a shitty boyfriend.”
“He’s not shitty…he’s just…” you try to get the words out about how loving Jeongguk really is, but your mind fails you. Maybe she’s right. “Okay, maybe he is being a little shit right now.”
“You know, I really liked Jeongguk when I first met him,” your roommate says. “But then he just stopped coming to see you.”
You sigh and burry your head into a pillow, “I know.”
“What did he even text you about?”
“He said that he’ll call or whatever—but I’m not even sure if he’s serious, or just messing with me,” you lift your head up. “Do you know that we haven’t talked since school started again?”
Nana gasps, “That was almost two months ago.”
“Exactly.”
“Y/n!” she screams your name. “What the fuck are you doing?”
“I’m actually going crazy, Nana,” you feel defeated; what kind of relationship is this? “But maybe tonight will get this shit off my mind.”
“What are you doing tonight?” she asks.
You explain how Taehyung has basically dragged you to Hoseok’s birthday party and even though you don’t want to go that much, you need to forget about Jeongguk for one night. Nana thankfully agrees with you. She even says that you can borrow one of her dresses since you don’t, in her words, own anything nice.
“Wow are you saying I have no style?” you pretend to be hurt.
“I’m saying you don’t have clothes appropriate for nights like these,” Nana laughs and tells you to follow her to her closet.
When you walk into her room and open her closet—you let her have the bigger closet because she has more clothes than you anyway—you’re not surprised to see a variety of mini skirts and dresses. Nana definitely goes out more than you ever do and proclaims that she can never wear the same outfit twice. “What shall we put you in?”
You shrug, “I’m down to wear anything.”
But maybe you’re giving Nana too much free reign because as she begins to dig through her closet, she pulls out the most revealing dress you’ve ever seen. She tosses it you before you can blink and demands that you have to wear it.
You nearly fall over from the force of the dress, but somehow manage to catch it. Pulling it away from your body, you immediately begin to shake your head. There was no way in hell you can go out in public like this—you don’t even want to wear it in the safety of your apartment. The dress is black with a plunging back and an equally plunging front. And with its short length, it leaves nothing to the imagination. “Hell no.”
“Come on, y/n!” Nana whines, mouth dropping when you fling the dress onto the floor. “This dress will look so good on you!”
“I don’t think anyone can wear this dress,” you frown as she hands you the dress again.
Your roommate rolls her eyes, “Please—I wore this! And I got a ton of male attention that night…you will too.”
But you don’t want the attention of multiple guys, just want the attention of one. “I don’t know, Nana. I’m not one to wear this kind of stuff…”
“Just this one time! Trust me.”
And even though you’re completely out of your element, you succumb to Nana’s demands and trudge into the closet to try the dress on. You let your clothes fall onto the carpeted floor and slip the revealing dress on. Surprisingly, even though you and Nana aren’t necessarily the same size, the dress seems to fit; you just hope all your precious body parts aren’t hanging out on full display.
When you step out for your roommate to see the dress, her jaw drops, and she lets out the loudest ear piercing scream you’ve ever heard. It’s so loud, you’re positive the neighbors heard it.
“Oh my god, y/n! You look so fucking good,” she pushes you towards her full-length mirror and the air seems to leave your lungs.
“I…” you’re at a loss for words, “I…actually like it?”
Nana screams again and proceeds to hug you, but you can’t stop staring at the mirror. You hated the way the dress looked on the hanger; now, is it crazy for you to say it makes you feel like a bad bitch? It feels like you can conquer the world.
“I told you!” Nana exclaims. “God—you look so good; you can just keep the dress after this. I don’t think I could ever wear it again after you just slayed my existence.”
“Okay, you’re just being dramatic at this point.”
“But no seriously, you look amazing and fucking Jeon Jeongguk is missing out,” she says hugging you again. “Can I do your hair and makeup?”
A few hours later, the doorbell rings as you slip your shoes on. Nana runs to answer the door and you smile as Taehyung walks in. The moment his eyes land on you, he stops in his tracks and brings a hand up to his mouth. “Y/n?”
“Don’t look so shocked,” you roll your eyes.
“Who are you and what did you do with y/n?” he runs up to you, inspecting your body from head to toe. “Who knew you had this side in you?”
“You can thank me for that,” Nana slides beside you, offering a bright smile.
After a little convincing, you managed to bribe Nana in coming out tonight too. Your main argument for making her go out too is that you needed someone to last the night with. Even though you are technically Taehyung’s date, he never stays out long and you didn’t want to be left alone with Hoseok and his friends. And you promised that all the drinks were on you, which made her agree in a heartbeat.
“I’m actually blown away,” Taehyung rubs his eyes.
You feel a bit of pride flare up inside of you; if your friends were already so blown away, you can only imagine the reactions from other people.
“You guys are so nice,” you smile before Taehyung makes it known that you all have to go before the party begins.
The three of you hop into his car as he drives to the place where Hoseok’s hosting his party. It’s at a local bar just down the street from school and when you get there, you see a huge sign with the words ‘Happy Birthday Hoseok’ in bold letters. Well, that’s one way to let everyone know. As Taehyung parks, you realize just how many people are here; birthday boy must’ve really invited everyone.
Walking inside the bar, Hoseok stands front and center and immediately greets you guys.
“Taehyung!” he excitedly says, a bright smile om his face. “Glad you could make it.”
The two of them shake hands before Taehyung wishes him a happy birthday and points to you, “You know y/n and Nana, right?”
“Of course,” Hoseok turns to you and immediately takes in your appearance. You notice his eyes widen at your dress before they meet your gaze. “Glad you guys could make it.”
You redden under his heated look as he reaches a hand out and you return the favor by extending your own too. Taehyung quickly suggests that you all take a picture together before the night gets too crazy and Nana forces you beside Hoseok. You give her a wide-eyed look, but she just smiles. You offer your phone to someone nearby and they tell you four to get into position.
The phone camera flashes while you offer your biggest smile. A few more flashes go off before the phone gets passed back in your direction. You swipe through the pictures, because one is simply not sufficient, and are pleasantly pleased with yourself. You have to admit it, you look pretty good.
“Damn, y/n!” Nana brings the attention to you and everyone begins to ask to see the pictures. But before Nana can pass your phone around, Hoseok tells you that he has to attend to the rest of his guests. At that, you quickly send everyone the pictures.
“I’ll catch you later?” he asks, and you realize he’s talking to you. Heat creeps up your face as you reply with a tentative sure and watch Hoseok walk away.
The moment he’s out of sight, Taehyung and Nana turn to you simultaneously saying that he definitely likes you. And while you’re flattered by the attention, you’re not interested. So you just brush your friends off and walk deeper into the bar. You order the three of you drinks and look at the pictures again.
“I think you should post the pictures,” Nana says sipping her drink.
You raise a brow, “Why?”
“Because you look good,” she talks like it’s the most obvious thing ever.
“Isn’t it a bit scandalous?”
“No?” Taehyung’s words come out like a question. “I’m posting one of these too.”
“Yeah but it’s normal for you to post stuff like this.” You honestly aren’t one to post suggestive pictures. Your feed is rather plain and simple. Also, you don’t party much either so might just look weird, or are you thinking way too much about this?
“Maybe it will elicit a reaction from that boyfriend of yours.”
Your ears perk up at Nana’s words. “I don’t think he even checks my social media…”
She raises a brow, “Girl, all men check their girls social accounts whether they like to admit it or not. Besides, he posted up pics with his boys earlier…why can’t you?”
She has a point. As the two of you were getting ready before, you scrolled through Jeongguk’s profile and saw that he posted a picture from last night. And it was the same pictures he was always posting—him and his friends with those damn red solo cups. If Jeongguk can post pictures of him at parties, why can’t you?
And at the end of the day, they are just pictures—completely harmless. You quickly scroll through the pictures again and pick the one that you look best in. After editing the picture and adding a witty caption, you press post. As you watch the page load, your heart races. Soon, a text bubble pops up signaling that the picture has been posted and you internally scream.
“Did you do it?” Nana asks, looking over your shoulder.
All you can do is nod and shove your phone away from you. “Can we just forget I did that?”
Taehyung and Nana don’t need to be told twice before ordering a round of shots for you, which you down without a fight.
***
As the night progresses, you actually do forget that you posted the picture.
With your phone on silent and your body a little more than slightly buzzed, you let the music and atmosphere of the bar take you away. By this point, you aren’t sure what time it is or where Taehyung went. You’re betting that he already left, but you’re too absentminded to really care right now. Beside you is Nana, but she’s rather preoccupied with a guy.
You try to grab her attention, to let her know that you need to run to the bathroom, but it’s fruitless so you just leave. In the bathroom, you push open a stall and let out a cry when your phone falls and narrowly misses the toilet. Thank god. Picking up the phone, you suddenly realize how many unread messages and missed phones you actually have…and they’re all from Jeongguk. You briefly run over the messages and see that he’s been leaving message after message for you to call him.
As if the ten missed calls weren’t enough.
Quickly doing your business, you run out of the bathroom and tell Nana that you need to go back to the apartment. But instead of the both of you leaving, she tells you that she’s more than likely not coming back tonight, and you catch the look in her eyes. Before calling an Uber back, you make her promise to text you and then you’re off.
The moment you step through the threshold of your place, you call him. And surprisingly enough, he answers on the first ring.
“Y/n.” As much as you hate to admit it, you’ve missed his voice.
“Hello to you, too,” you dismiss such defeating thoughts and try to remember your anger towards him.
On the other side of the phone, he sighs, “Where are you?”
“At home,” you tell him, kicking off your heels and walking into your bedroom.
“I see…” he says. “So, you’re not out at a party? I saw the picture you posted.”
You release a deep breath. So that’s what this phone call is about.
“Did you just call to chew me out?” you fall onto your bed. “Because if that’s the case, I don’t want to hear it.”
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
“Why the fuck do even you care?” you retort. “I see you partying every week too, and do I make a big deal out of it? No. You’re such a hypocrite.”
Jeongguk is quiet for a moment. He’s so quiet you almost think he’s hung up on you, but before you can say anything else, he asks, “Are you still at the party?”
You roll your eyes, “I told you I’m at home already.”
“Prove it,” he says.
You don’t even know what he’s asking for. How are you supposed to prove you were at your apartment? “What?”
“Skype me.” Oh.
“Isn’t it a little late,” you say, peering at the clock on your wall that reads a little after midnight. “Shouldn’t you be in bed?”
Even though you’re angry at Jeongguk ninety-five percent of the time, that doesn’t mean you don’t care to know what goes on in his life. You know that he has practice every Saturday morning and if he doesn’t sleep, he’ll be a cranky little baby.
“Practice is cancelled tomorrow.” It’s like he’s read your mind or something. And after much contemplating, you tell him you’ll skype him.
Grabbing your laptop from the floor, you can’t deny the anxious excitement you feel. You also can’t deny the fact that you miss Jeongguk desperately, even though he can be an asshole. It’s honestly been so long and you want nothing more than to see his face again. Logging onto your skype account, you click on his little icon and watch as the screen begins to make a call. As it loads and connects, you situate your laptop away from you.
And the moment Jeongguk appears on your screen, you feel an array of emotions. He’s in his room, you can tell from his blue pillows and the posters that line the wall behind him. A part of you wants to cry as dumb as it sounds; it just feels like you haven’t seen him in so long. Your eyes run over the softness of his features before meeting his piercing gaze.
“Hey,” you offer a half-smile.
“Hey.”
“So,” you clear your throat, “as you can see, I am at home…in my room.”
He nods, not looking away from you, “Sorry for doubting you. That picture…just really fucked me up.”
“Why?” you question, shifting your position.
“First of all, you look fucking amazing in that dress,” Jeongguk smirks and you remember that you’re still in Nana’s revealing dress, face heating up. “Second, that guy’s hand on your body was literally too much.”
You’re not sure what he’s talking about, so you look back at the picture and notice that Hoseok’s hand was wrapped rather tightly your waist. “I didn’t even realize.”
“Sure.”
“No, I’m serious,” you look back at Jeongguk. “I barely know the guy. It was his birthday tonight and Taehyung invited me.”
“And you still let him put his hands all over you?” he asks.
Why is he getting so angry about the picture? It was just a photo. Never in all the years you two have been together has he ever been like this. Is he jealous? You haven’t thought to pin him as the jealous type, but perhaps it’s finally showing.
“Are you jealous?” you narrow your eyes as his own widen.
“Of course not,” he brushes you off. “I just don’t like it when guys put their hands all over other people’s girlfriends.”
He’s totally jealous and your heart begins to warm at his words. “I’m your girlfriend?”
You’re teasing him and he doesn’t seem to catch on. “Are you not?”
“I don’t know,” you shrug. “Doesn’t really seem like it sometimes. I mean, you never call me. Aren’t people supposed to call their girlfriends? And I just feel neglected, you know? Like you’re living a completely different life from me—like we’re not even dating.”
“I’m sorry,” he immediately says, wetting his bottom lip. “I just—I’ve gotten caught up with life lately. I mean it when I say I’m going to call, because I really want to, but it doesn’t always happen.”
You’re a bit shocked at his apologetic confession because you were not expecting it. Jeongguk is not usually the one in your relationship to cave in first; you’re usually the one who comes running to him. Maybe he does still care about you in the same way he did all those years ago.
“You’re sorry?” you ask. “Prove it.”
His eyebrows raise at your repeated phrase. “What?”
“If you’re so sorry…show me.”
Where these words are coming from, you literally have no idea. While you cave in first, Jeongguk is way more forward about his intentions. It’s like your roles have switched and you strangely love it. His eyes stare into yours with so much intensity, it almost feels like he’s right here with you and not just on your laptop screen.
You wait for him to say something—do something; the anticipation of his actions have you squirming on your bed.
“Take off the dress,” he suddenly says, voice much lower than before.
Your insides clench as you raise your body to kneel on the bed and unzip the dress, letting it fall into a pile around your knees. Jeongguk lets out a deep breath as he takes in your smooth skin, body only covered by your flimsy underwear.
“I couldn’t wear a bra with the dress,” you smile at his reaction.
“Fuck, y/n,” he swears. “Take off the underwear and sit back on the bed. I want to see you.”
You oblige and fling your last item of clothing onto the floor. You’re about to do as Jeongguk wishes and lay back, but you stop. “I want to see you, too.”
His eyes darken as he pushes his laptop forward to reveal more of himself and peels the white t-shirt off his body. Your eyes drink in the muscles that adorns his body—god, it’s been so long since you’ve seen him like this. You’ve missed this all terribly. After chucking his skirt to the side, he pushes the waistband of his sweats down and reveals his already hard cock.
“Commando?” you smile, body heating up with desire. As you say this, he begins to slowly stroke himself and you swear that nothing hotter has ever graced your eyes.
“Lay back for me baby,” he whispers, and you follow his instructions, leaning back onto your headboard so you can still see him. “Touch that pretty pussy of yours for me.”
And you begin touching yourself, hands rubbing your sensitive clit. The first touch already has you moaning Jeongguk’s name. Fuck; you wish he was here with you right now. You wish it was him whose hands were touching you instead of your own. So you imagine his hands on your body instead and your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head.
“It feels so good,” you moan, watching your boyfriend as he moves his hand up and down his hard shaft. You can see the bit of pre-cum that has already leaked out of his head and you want nothing more than to lick it off. “Jeongguk…”
“You’re so hot,” he forces through clenched teeth. “Stick a finger inside baby. I want to see you fuck yourself.”
You do—you stick one and then another, pretending Jeongguk is actually entering you instead of your fingers. You start with a steady rhythm, slowly moving in and out before going a little faster. Jeongguk begins to match his pace with you and you feel yourself getting close. Your hips begin to buck up into your hands and your palm rubs against your sweet spot.
Sweat begins to bead along your forehead and you use your other hand to rub little circles into your clit again. “I’m so close.”
Jeongguk groans at the image he’s seeing, you desperate for relief. “Cum for me baby; I need you to cum, okay?”
And you can’t help it, you cry as your orgasm hits. It sends waves of pleasure throughout your body, causing your legs to shake. The entire time you ride the high, you’re saying Jeongguk’s name and it isn’t long before his own orgasm arrives. You watch as his face contorts, brows furrowed together and mouth slightly parted, and his load shoots onto his abdomen.
His dark hair is drenched in sweat, and chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. Jeongguk brushes his hair back and grabs his discarded t-shirt to wipe himself. You sit back up on the bed after you catch your own breath and brush your hair to the side.
“Thanks for that,” you tell him, and he laughs.
“Thank you, too,” Jeongguk smiles. “I needed that.”
“Same,” your eyes bore into his and silence passes between the two of you. You know this moment doesn’t change much; there is still a lot of work that needs to be done in your relationship. However, what you do know is that Jeongguk still cares and that give you hope. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you more.”
#armiesnet#btsbookclub#bangtan bookclub#bts fic#jungkook fic#jeongguk fic#kpop fic#bts smut#kpop smut#bts#bangtan#jungkook#jeongguk#smut#angst#prove it#xbaepsae
149 notes
·
View notes
Note
2: At first? No. Ran was the first one who noticed when something was off but Ranbob brushed it off as him being tired. Though when he saw that his brother was still acting that way he kept checking in, til "Ranbob" eventually snapped at him one day, scaring and hurting Ran enough to get him to stop. His parents and Lias and Memi also noticed, but Lias and Memi didn't ask as often because Ran told them not too, and when Memi asked Ranbob gently told her its ok and to not worry. Lias was hesitant to accept this but eventually did, with Ranbob promising to tell him if something was wrong, a promise he sadly broke. Ranbob was close to his family, especially his younger siblings, and loved to play and study with them. He had a lot of friends at first that he played games with and joked around with. Though after he started to get out under more pressure and the introduction of Dream he got distant, lost all of his friends (even though he still cared for them), didn't play with Lias or Memi nearly as much, started skipping dinners and not talking to his parents or Ran. And when Dream was mostly and fully in control, he stopped talking at all, and ignored everyone. Lias desperately tried to get him to talk but that just resulted in a harsh stare with a silent promise, Memi tried to hug him, which he then pushed her away, and when Ran tried one last time to talk to him, but "Ranbob" just punched him and walked away. When his parents tried one very last time to intervene, that's when it got fatal. The Gladiators where horrified at what they read, finding it hard to believe and making them sick to their stomach. Benjamin caught them reading it, though he simply sadly smiled at them and said, "I read it too. Its horrible isn't it? He didn't deserve to go through that. But we'll help him. We'll help him be free and be himself again, I promise you, and everyone else. We'll save him." They felt like they where staring at a ghost, it was unnerving, to see such a happy and young Ranbob, knowing what will happen to him that will wipe him clean of all happiness. And it felt disrespectful when they caught sights of Ranya, Seth, Lias, and Memi. Cause they never knew them, and now they where looking into the such happy and gleeful eyes of dead people who don't know the torture their son and brother is going through. (And that went for everyone)
3: This is literally Ran's mentally when it comes to being stabbed, "I've been stabbed multiple times before and I haven't died. Therefor, I am immortal." Yes he is :). He gets threatened with Benjamin because if Benjamin finds out he isn't eating or sleeping Benjamin will force him to eat every bite of a full meal and force him to go to bed, sitting next to him and reading to him until he falls asleep. Which sounds nice, but considering Ranbob doesnt want to "bother" them, its a threat to him. Raq will always cause problems, he's a expert tracker and because of that he's able to hunt the groups down. He often will pop out of nowhere and attack the group, chasing them down until someone turns around and attacks him. Often Ran attacks him by looking Raq directly in his eyes, causing him to flee. Cause even though Raq wants to get Ran, he knows very well if they make eye contact he will lose a battle no matter what he does, so its best to run and attempt to blind him at a later point. Ran his very happy to be on the road again, and if Ranbob wasn't there (who's keeping Ran on edge and preventing him from fully enjoying the trip, though its mostly just Ran doing it to himself), he would be non-stop talking and running ahead of the group. But even with Ranbob there he's happy to finally be moving again.
4: The gladiators did not witness it first hand, rather they heard screaming and went to check it out, worried and alarmed. And when Ranbob went into the depressive state did Benjamin come over to them and explain what was going on and what was going to happen. When then Jackie offered to help keep Ranbob company while Grievous and Watson offered to go along with Cletus to find Ran. When they heard the scream Jackie was scared and nervous, Grievous was anxious and on edge, Watson was calm yet curious, and Ran was mad and on edge. And when they found out what happened, Jackie felt bad and sympathetic, Grievous felt sad and a bit guilty, Watson was sympathetic and felt bad for him, and Ran was pissed.
5: Isaac and Benjamin just kinda accepted it and went "Yes he is like a lost puppy and we love him for that.", Charles was embarrassed and instead of responding properly he muttered out an excuse and left, cause he was not expecting to be confronted with Ranbob being like a puppy at all and didn't know how to respond, and Cletus just stuck his tounge out and blew raspberries. And Ranbob was just purely embarrassed.
6: Actually first thing Ranbob got when he arrived to the fishermen house was wrapped up in multiple fluffy blankets and had a hot chocolate shoved in his hands. Also whenever he goes into a depressive episode or wants to go back the fishermen just bring out emergency blankets and quickly make either hot chocolate or tea and Ranbob loves it every single time.
7: Ranbob is mixed, he loves it being back as it reminds him of such good times, but it also doesn't feel right when Charles says it because Ran was the one who made it. It only sounds right when Ran says it. Ran is angry that Ranbob is letting someone else call him Bobby (which he is also sad about), but is also mad that he's mad that someone else is using it. But he's also happy its being used again, and is happy to see Ranbob still enjoys it. Grievous of course notices it, but doesnt look into it, and so does Watson but he also doesn't ask about it, determing it to be something the brothers themselves have to talk about.
8:Because if it was Porkius or literally anyone else, they wouldn't of helped and would've watched happily as the two fought, waiting until one fell and even encouraging the fight. But they also jumped into the area from the stands and Cletus specifically placed himself between the two, pushing Ran back and yelling at him (which rarely anyone does) when Benjamin then came up to try to calm the raging enderman down, while Charles checked on Ranbob, and Isaac kept look out for any sudden movements between the two so he could intercept the potential attack. Plus when Isaac saw the other group approaching he ran to meet them, asking if they knew Ran and when they said yes, quickly stating a plan to safely restrain Ran long enough until Ranbob was taken to safety. Then leaving Ran to the group, but also saying how he wanted to talk later.
10: Sounds like the certain town just may be the ruins of the Greater SMP. So I'll probably have Wilburs Decendent (which I dont currently have a name for, if anyone has one please feel free to suggest one!) As a popular performer there and also the towns historian, so when our groups get there Wilbur is able to provide information about Dream, Ranboo, basically everyone and the history of the SMP. Most likely going be a part of the story when Ran truly starts to slowly believe that his brother didn't meant to do everything he did.
11: Yep, he knows Ranboo used to have bad memory (not how bad it was, just that it was bad) but he's never read it because Mizu never had the actual book, it was only told in tales and stories that Mizu had. If that makes sense. Ranbob will get plenty more hugs I promise you, though that also means he gets hurt more.
12: Kinda but also cause I enjoy writing angst.
Ok ok here's some fluff: These all take place a good week or 2 (or longer) after Ran forgives his brother and the relationship gets better. Watson walks in on the two sharing a blanket and sleeping against eachother. With them leaning on eachother and leaving almost no space between them. Ran finally calls Ranbob Bobby again and Ranbob cries and hugs his brother tightly, Ran is shocked but quickly hugs back just as tightly. Ranbob gets to finally pull a big brother move and tease Ran about his "nerdy" habit of reading so many books, Ran tries to fire back that Ranbob literally picked a idol that requires you to be a bookworm but he simply shoots back that Technoblade also requires you to be a bookworm. Its been spotted multiple times of either Ran or Ranbob having their tail wrapped around his brothers wrist or leg, and the two aren't very far apart now. Jackie jokes about being replaced by Ranbob and being heartbroken, basically draping himself over Ran and whining while everyone else laughs at Rans distress. Ran and Ranbob eventually agree to merge their two hauntings, which is extremely rare and is the biggest sign of trust and love there is in enderman language. Ran reads to Ranbob one night after a bad relapse, which ends up soothing Ranbob much sooner than anything else.
I also have a more mythical idea of fluff that probably wont be in the main story, but im willing to share it if you want.
2: Only his family noticed? Dang, okay. I’m irrationally attached to his siblings now that they have names, and this only hurts me. Do the gladiators have any noticeable changes in behavior towards Ranbob and Ran after reading it? Also, who may Ranya and Seth be? I don’t believe I saw them mentioned earlier.
3: Technically, he’s right. He hasn’t died yet, anon, and he’s been stabbed multiple times, he could very well be immortal. I guess he should probably do his best to not get stabbed again though, I hear it’s kind of bad for you.
Ranbob: *Not doing something he should do for his own health*
Benjamin: *Self Care But As A Threat(Gently)*
Ranbob:
Ranbob: *Does it*
Also, even though I acknowledge that Raq could be a genuine threat, all I can imagine are Team Rocket shenanigans. He keeps trying to blind him in various, complicated ways, and fails hilariously. One time he actually manages to do it only for Jackie to take him out or for him to turn around and accidentally look Ranbob straight in the eyes cause the poor hybrid was trying to knock him out without a fight.
4: Yikes, that must have been pretty scary, just hearing everything go down. If I may ask, what exactly happened with Ranbob? You said there was screaming?
5: Well, at least everyone’s come to terms with it. Ran uses people as tote bags, and Ranbob is the local puppy, and it is what it is.
6: Very good! He needs it! Also, do they just keep them on hand? Just-he looks a tiny bit sad and Benjamin pulls blanket and tea out of thin air and burritos him.
7: Aww. But also, ouch. Oh well. At least we can get Ran eventually picking the nickname up again.
8: Oh? Interesting. Sounds like these guys are pretty quick on their feet. I can see why it’d impress the gladiators.
10: That? Sounds so cool? Oh, I really like that honestly, I can’t wait to see where you take that.
11: Neat. Is that where he got the idea for his diary, or? And why? Why must we suffer in order to take comfort from the kinder things in life? Why can’t Ranbob just have hugs without pain?
12: Did you genuinely just admit to aiming for my feelings with that last one?! Anon, how could you! I’ve been injured! My heart, Anon!
13: AWWWW. To all of this. So fluffy, and cute! Just what we needed, thank you! Also, more fluff, you say? Please share, we need all the fluff we can get.
Have a good week, Brothers Anon, and thank you for the lovely fluff, and equally lovely pain. I’m excited for more!
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Talk to me - Tommy Shelby x reader - chapter 8
Masterlist
------------------------------------------------
It is strange how fast something becomes a habit. It didn’t take long for you to figure out a way for you to be snuck into Tommy’s bed room every night. As he said you let Ada or Lizzie follow you home. You just never knew when Tommy would come pick you up. Sometimes it could be close to midnight before he came and then it would often be in the family’s car.
The days when he was in the office at the time you got off, he made sure to bid his good bye to you and mumbled a ‘see you soon’. Ada was started to catch on and gave you a side eye when you smiled and nodded back to him. On those days you barely had time to finish eating before he was knocking on your door. It was also the best times for you two to talk. Or at least, for him to talk. He had adapted a habit of telling you about his time before the war. How him and his siblings fought and made up. It was interesting to you, as you grew up without any siblings. Such a strong connection to someone your own age must have been delightful. You figured out how strong a friendship you had as noon of your previous so called friends visited you after you moved in with the Langstons.
Tommy often let you lay closer on those days too. You had found comfort in the warmth of him in the night which was a big step for you that still despised human contact. He would take your hand like you had grown used to and lay it on his chest. The first time you almost stopped breathing until he explained.
“One tap for yes and two taps for no.” He then proceeded to ask you questions about your past and history. It took a long time and lots of questions sometimes for some stories to be told but you quite enjoyed yourself taping away on his bare chest.
It also gave you an excuse to put your head on his shoulder, right next to his tattoo. The story he told about it made you so much more comfortable around him and made you relate to him a bit more, even though you hadn’t been to war, you had had a war of your own. Both of you were still in each your wars in your head and the fact that you could escape that for a while by lying there close to each other, talking. It made it all that much easier to deal with.
After a while Tommy started to bring paper and pens to the bed room.
“It is easier that way, than me guessing all the details.” He said with a smile. You were afraid that it might be the end of you two snuggling – because who were you kidding, it was snuggling – but when he gave the paper to you he patted the spot next to him in the bed and you sat there shoulder to shoulder. As the evening went on you slowly fell more and more into him as you wrote with a book as a writing surface, his arm slowly finding its way around you.
You talked about everything else but work. It was like an unspoken rule and you learned so much about each other in the process. You didn’t know anyone you had ever shared so much random information about yourself and your travels with your father around Europe. You had never had anything missing in your childhood except your mother, but your father had giving you everything and showed you as much as possible of the world while he was working. For Tommy it was the opposite. Not that he was poor growing up, but they always only had the necessaries. His father wasn’t much there and he grew up with a depressed mother, his aunt Polly and a man called Charlie he also called his uncle. They got taken care of and took care of each other. That might be why they all seemed to work so well together.
At the end of other evenings with a lot of notes and talking, Tommy would gather all the notes you had written and threw them into the fireplace. You had looked at him wondering what on earth he was doing.
“Just making sure that our conversations is still private. Other people don’t need to know what you are sharing with me.” He explained as he would walk back to bed and dragged you in close to him before you fell asleep.
-----------------------------------------------------
It was after one of the busy night were Tommy barely could get you before midnight, that you had to sneak out of his house early in the morning to get you a new set of clothing. You were almost sure he wouldn’t come to you the night before, which was unusual, so you had started getting ready for bed before he came that night. That also meant that you had prepared the next day’s clothing by the end of your bed instead of packing it in your duffle bag. Tommy gave your hand as you left his room in the clothing from the day before. He disappeared into the wash room and you closed the door very slowly and silent behind you and went down towards the back staircase.
“Miss y/l/n.” The sound of Polly’s voice behind you made you freeze in the spot. What was she doing up already? She was never up before Tommy. You turned around and saw that she was still in a long nightgown in a faded red colour and loose hair. You nodded to her, unable to hide your mortified expression.
“I see you’ve become acquaintance with my nephew.” She said with a sly smile on her face. You knew you were blushing, oh god it was horrible and you wanted to explain, but you were unable to. What was she not thinking of you now?
“Why don’t you join us for breakfast? Maybe we can get Tommy to actually join us too for once.” You just stood there unable to do anything. You couldn’t possibly say no to Polly and she didn’t let you. She walked to you and reached out her hand for you. Unlike what you would have done only months ago, you put your hand in hers and let her guide you don’t the main staircase. What would Tommy say when he discovered this?
You sat awkwardly beside Polly at the breakfast table as more and more of the family stopped by the dining room, either for a talk or for something to eat. You learned that John, Esme and the kids had another home too, but they still got their rooms at the family house if they worked late. Of course that was the case that morning and they looked at you surprised when they entered the dining room. They didn’t ask any questions but send you a confused smile before continuing what they were doing. Ada came in shortly after and placed Karl in the arms of Polly before even noticing you. She was about to say something as Tommy finally joined the room with a quiet ‘good morning’. He stopped in his tracks like the rest of the family did. You felt like some kind of attraction by now and you hated the attention.
“Y/n. What are you doing here?” Tommy asked confused.
“I caught her on the way out of your bedroom, Tommy.” Polly said without even looking at her nephew.
“What?!” Ada exclaimed immediately and dropped her knife; she was buttering her bread with; down into the plate. You looked directly down in the table with wide eyes. It couldn’t possibly be worse. Dear god.
��Well the least I could do was offering her some breakfast. She couldn’t have reached home and eat before work started.” Polly explained like it was nothing at all. There was silence for a long while.
“Good. That’s good. I’ll grab some bread on the go.” Tommy said and was about to leave the dining room.
“Tommy. Sit down for once. You have a guest.” Polly said calmly but you could hear the threat in her voice. Tommy looked so uncomfortable but sat down next to you. The other family members kept staring between the two of you and not many words were said the whole morning.
You never got back to get some new clothes, so you went directly from the breakfast table into the office. It was a lot earlier than you used to arrive and when Lizzie finally came in she stopped for a second and looked you up and down. Of course she would notice you hadn’t changed your clothing. The whole world would know about you and Tommy’s arrangements soon.
--------------------------------------
It took some time to get this comfortable with each other. Not only because of your history, but because of that one day at the office after your first night together. Tommy had asked you to stay in his office as he was getting a visitor. Another businessman he said. You started to get that it might be a bit more serious than that, when his bothers came in after a bit, talking about where they had placed different people around the office and bidding shop to make sure than it wasn’t possible for anyone to perform an ambush. Tommy assured you that everything would be alright and you just had to sit to the side and write your notes and observe the man coming in.
“He will have at least one more man with him, but I need you to keep an eye on Mr. King, but don’t get any eye contact. It’s very important. We will be sharing some information today I’m sure will shock you. Try not to reach to it. We will talk about it later.” He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder and gave it a little squeeze.
“Mr. King is ‘ere.” Arthurs head poked in between the double doors and his gaze landed on Tommy’s hand on your shoulder. Almost instantly Tommy straightened up and removed his hand from you. He moved to sit behind his desk before two men walked in. You sat down quickly to Tommy’s right at the small table that was sat up just for you. You looked up through your lashes to look at the two men.
They were dressed very similar. They were both wearing bell-bottomed trousers, cut like a sailors, waistcoat with a matching jacket and a curious looking tartan silk scarf. They both wore a cap similar to the once Tommy and his brothers always wore out.
“Mr. Shelby.” The shorter of the two men said and nodded a single time. He looked young, or maybe he was just one of those who were hard to guess the age of. His eyes looked much older, like they had seen much more than such a young man should have at that age.
“Mr. King.” Tommy said back stiffly and gestured to the chair in front of his desk. Mr. King sat down as the other man stood a little back and crossed his arms over his chest. His focus suddenly landed on you and you looked down on your empty notepaper.
“I believe you owe me an apology, Mr. Shelby. That’s all I’m here to collect before we both get out of each other’s face.” Mr. King spat and leaned forward in a threatening manner. Tommy didn’t move at all.
“I do not have anything to apologies for. I’m simply doing business like any other man would.” Tommy folded his hands on his stomach and leaned back like he was all relaxed. It looked like it only made Mr. King boil.
“Not when that business is on the wrong side of the city walls of Manchester. MY territory. Bring your business elsewhere; you don’t want to start something.” The threat was clear in his voice and the way he said it was his territory only made you question what Tommy may be doing. This wasn’t good.
“You know, The Scuttlers doesn’t have an iron grip on Manchester like they once had. We could walk right in. And the people were very willing to talk.” Tommy said with a sly little smile.
“Well that’s bad for them because you are staying the hell away from Manchester, you hear? I came here to put this past us, but it doesn’t sound like you understand what I’m saying. Keep your Blinders on the right side of the walls and there will be no war. It’s really up to you.” Mr. King was flaming red around his collar but somehow managed to control his voice. At the same time you didn’t know what to write down. They were both very direct and there wasn’t any deals being thrown on the table besides Tommy withdrawing some kind of business in Manchester. You looked to Mr. King’s supposed right hand man and found him still staring at you. You dropped your gaze again, feeling very uncomfortable. What was he even there for? He didn’t say anything? Was he observing too? You realized that you had zoned out when Mr. King slammed his fist into Tommy’s desk, making you jump in your chair.
“You are going to regret this. If I’m seeing any of your Blinders at my casinos, I will send them back to you in a body bag.” He stood up so fast that the chair behind him was almost tipping over. You flinched when Mr. King’s gaze fell on you for a split second before he stormed out and his brute of a friend went with him. The door stood wide open and you could see Lizzie outside staring into Tommy’s office with wide eyes.
You turned to Tommy that was sat leaning on his elbows on the table. He looked like he was thinking hard about something. Who was this Mr. King? And what was it about casinos? What exactly was Tommy all about? What you had figured was that he had something to do with playing on horses, but a casino was a very shady business and very illegal in England. You had heard of police raiding different locations. It was a very underground environment and only the most awful people would spend their time and money there. You have only learnt about it from your travels in America.
“That went as I expected.” Tommy said calmly and went up to close the door to the office. Arthur and John came up and was about to enter, but Tommy stopped them by grabbing the doorframe on both sides.
“Will you give us a minute.” It wasn’t a question as much as it was an order. The two brothers looked at each other and let Tommy close the door fully. He walked towards you but stopped a few steps away. You didn’t know what to think about it all. It was a lot new information about a person you had become really close to for a while. He was involved with a lot more shit than you had imagined and for some reason he was letting you see all of it. It was like he was waiting for some kind of reaction for you, but even if you would be able to say anything; you didn’t know what you would say to him.
“You know, I am a bad man doing bad things.” He started and tipped his head to catch your eyes. He frowned as your expression didn’t change. Yes, you knew that almost from the start, but either way, you had let him drag you closer and found yourself save in his proximity. It didn’t make sense considering his actions. But his actions towards you were so different than what you had experienced in the office.
“I’m sure you didn’t imagine being dragged into something like this coming here. But despite everything you already knew and things I’ve told you, you are still here.” Tommy turned to his desk and moved a few things around. It looked like he was just occupying himself while he was talking.
“I can’t imagine why you are still here after all you’ve already been thought. But I hope this doesn’t change anything.” He finally lays his eyes on you again and you didn’t know exactly what you saw in his eyes, but for a moment it looked like desperation, only for a split second as he returned to be the business man Tommy again. But that split second was enough for you. He was another person here in the office because he needed to be, or else he didn’t have any business. He wouldn’t be the head of the Peaky Blinders and he wouldn’t be the man that he let you see in his bedroom. That man wouldn’t exist if the hard part of him hadn’t experienced all the hardness of life. It was cruel to say but it was the true. You could only imagine the man he was before the war.
You knew that you had to reassure him and that hand gestures wouldn’t be enough. You used the untouched note paper in front of you to write a short note for Tommy and stood up. Went you walked towards him he reached out for the note before you even got to him.
I’m not going anywhere. You are keeping me safe.
When Tommy read the note it was like his shoulder sank a little. Like he let out a breath he was holding the whole time. He send you a hint of a smile before he went back to his serious expression.
“Thanks.” Was all he said and he looked a little shaken. So you took his hand and gave it a little reassuring squeeze.
-----------------------------------------------
So nothing really changed by the fact that you knew more about whom he was, even though you felt it should. He was a gang leader, he fixed horse races, he took protection money from the businesses in Birmingham and he wanted to expand his business to casinos. Only a few years back you would have scoffed at someone like him. He would have been nothing more than a shocking story in the newspaper your father would read in the morning, that you didn’t bother much with.
All of that didn’t really matter when you woke up early in the morning to the sound of Tommy’s lightly snoring next to you. His arm sprawled out to the sides to make access to you who were resting your head on his shoulder like usual. The light was still very sparingly in the room at that time but you liked to watch how his chest rose and fell slowly. It was when he was in such a deep sleep he was most vulnerable and the fact that you could just lay there with a man like him and be the only witness to it was just perfect to you.
You were soon pulled out of the comfortable bobble when you heard voice in the hallway. They were shouting and you could hear how they came nearer and nearer. You lifted your head to listen closer and at the same time scoot closer to Tommy. It made him grunt out loud and squint his eyes. The shouting was interrupted by a woman’s voice.
“What are you thinking coming here?!” She yelled at them and that woke Tommy up. He sat up straight and threw his legs over the edge of the bed as the people outside started lowering their voices and spoke to Polly. Tommy caught your eyes and ushered you to sit up and get behind him, so you were out of direct sight from the door. Tommy reached under the bed at the same moment that someone burst through the door. Tommy pointed the newly appeared gun towards the men. There were three of them and they looked at Tommy with wild eyes. They were all three dirty and bloodied. The all wore very similar working class clothing and the infamous peaked cap. They must have been a part of the Peaky Blinders, because Tommy lowered his gun and reached around to pad you on the knee like he would assure you that everything was alright.
“What the bloody hell are you doing here?” He suddenly shouted at the men, making both them and you jump. Polly appeared in the door in her night gown and a tight lipped expression.
“I’m s-sorry sir but we found Arley, Buckley and Grey bloody murdered near the ducks!” One of them stammered and looked down at his bloodied hands before they dropped down to his sides again. Tommy sat silenced and waited for them to continue.
“They were beaten to death, sir. It was a bloody mess. They had even stacked them on top of each other. We couldn’t almost recognize them if it wasn’t because Buckley had a picture of his wife in his pocket.” One of the others spoke and pulled a picture from his own pocket. You closed your eyes and leaned into Tommy’s back. That was too sad. You didn’t know who those people where but it sounded like they had been straight up murdered for no big reason and they had families that loved them that they would never return to. It made you shiver and Tommy felt that. He looked over his shoulder at you and gave you a small nod.
“You know who did this?” He asked the men and the three of them looked at each other before the one with his friends wife’s picture pulled another piece of paper from his pocket and stepped forward to give it to Tommy. You placed a hand on his shoulder and leaned over to see what the note said. You felt a little victory inside when Tommy held the paper a little higher so you could read it too, but that feeling was quickly replaced by horror.
This is your first warning, Shelby.
Mick King.
----------------------------------
Taglist:
@im-the-colourless-sunshine @fearthequeer595 @sununicorn @i-love-you-green @imnotsomewhore @imnotuglyimjustpredebut @hi-there-x @namiknows @imnotsomewhore @captivatedbycillianmurphy @irishgirl1995 @stalker83005 @stressedandbandobessed7771 @tuliptx @stydia-4-ever @ladymelissastark @yoheyyosup @calciferthelivingfire @actorinfluence @theamuz @affection-rabbit @jenepleurepasbaby @mango978 @csigeoblue @independentgirl @sweatydragoncloudknight
Sorry but some of the tags doesn’t work!
#Tommy Shelby#TOMMY#tommy shelby fan fic#tommy shelby imagines#tommy shelby fan fiction#tommy x reader#tommy shelby imagine#tommy shelby x reader#thomas shelby fanfiction#thomas shelby#thomas shelby x reader#Peaky Blinders#PEAKY FOOKIN BLINDERS#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinders fan fiction#peaky blinder imagine#cillian murphy#shelby
208 notes
·
View notes
Note
😁 😂 😳 😤 😡 😱 😭 😷 😍 😈 😎
SO LOONG. See under cut for Lizverse.
@nashforhire
Headcanon Meme // always accepting
😁 - Three Happy Head Canons
Data remembers Liz as being one of the first people that took the time to try to get to know him beyond his appearance and Starfleet record. This was so uncommon at the time they met that he immediately trusted her and considered her a good friend.
Data had never had non-replicated paints before Liz got them for him. For a while, he was afraid to try them, but now he uses them only for very special projects.
Liz helped to redefine moral standards for him. Everything was very black and white before he learned more about her past, and she opened his eyes to a world beyond Starfleet when he had never had the opportunity to do so before.
😂 - Three Funny Head Canons
Data did not like the zero-gravity situation, and he never will. He quietly lives in fear that she will attempt to do that more because she enjoys it and thinks that practice will help he. He does not wish to practice. It is scary.
He does not understand her affinity for Klingons, but boy will he try his best to impress them by involving himself in anything her friends want to do. He is somewhat respected by Klingons for his involvement in various political endeavours and also inadvertently besting some Klingons in various social situations, so this goes over surprisingly well in spite of Data's horrible social skills.
He can barely set foot on the Nomad for fear of it exploding, and will occasionally try to repair things when she is not paying attention. He would never mention this to her, nor would he admit to it if she attempted to point it out.
😳 - Three Embarrassing Head Canons
They met because he almost knocked her out and then he forced her to let him take her to the Infirmary. He is still embarrassed by that, and will downplay the story when asked how they met.
He is often embarrassed by not understanding any of the customs that she enjoys. He has very little experience with many of her interests, and although she seems to enjoy taking him to experience new things, he takes it as a sign of naivety on his part.
He has a record of most of her personal habits and preferences - as is usual for him in any situation, but he has realized that it can be uncomfortable to announce these to other people when she is not present. He is still figuring out which ones are appropriate to share and which should be kept private. Sometimes he can determine this based on other people's reactions. Sometimes people have to tell him.
😤 - Three Frustrating Head Canons
He finds it frustrating that they are often so far apart, and finds it his own failure that that is the case. He is constantly caught between his desire to remain Starfleet and his desire to see her.
Along the same lines, he does not agree with many of the things she as done in the past as they directly go against his personal and professional moral code. A different in perspective can result in disagreements that are not always able to be resolved, and Data finds it very difficult to accept when things cannot be resolved.
He sometimes frustrated that she finds certain things acceptable, usually in dealing with how people treat her. She might share a story of something that happened to her that Data finds alarming, but she behaves as if there is nothing wrong with it, and no amount of insistence can change her mind about it.
😡 - Three Anger/Rage Head Canons
Data has repeatedly asked her not to put herself into situations that might result in her being harmed, but she seems to think she is invincible, and so will often take jobs that are not worth the risk for the money she receives in exchange.
He is greatly bothered by many of the stories she has shared about her past that she seems unbothered by, and often is angry on her behalf about the treatment she has received from strangers.
He wishes to know more about the worst parts of her life, but knows that she most likely will not share them due to his involvement in Starfleet, and it is not in his nature to push her for information. Her official record reflects more than she chooses to share, however.
😭 - Three Sad Head Canons
As with most of his relationships, Data worries about what will happen when they are gone. He also worries about what will happen if he is lost in the line of duty. None of his friends know her well, and she can sometimes be difficult to find. He fears no one will tell her if he is killed.
He also worries that she will leave him because she does not wish to deal with his connection to Starfleet. He cannot make the decision to leave, but he would never ask her to give up her life on the Nomad to stay with him, so he often wonders about the longevity of their relaionship.
He knows she has some demons that she battles, and he worries about her working alone for so long. He calls her often when she is away, but that is not the same as being there, and he fears something will happen when he is unable to assist her or she is too far to reach.
😷 - Three Illness/Sickness Head Canons
When she is ill, he is content to care for everything she needs. He will insist that she stays in bed and that she allow him to do everything she needs. He will default to all of the cliches and deliver her soup and hold a hot towel to her head - everything he has seen in books and movies.
Eventually, he may offer to teach her a few simple things about his programming in order for her to assist him in performing routine maintenance. He is more comfortable with someone he trusts doing the work, especially after installing his emotion chip.
He would trust her to shut him down in an emergency if need be. The list of individuals who he would trust to do that is very, very short.
😍 - Three Romantic Head Canons
Data takes into account every detail she has mentioned when planning romantic experiences, so he always goes out of his way to find non-replicated chocolates for her. He does not eat them himself, and he makes it a personal mission to find them from different worlds he has visited during his assignment to the Enterprise.
He has created a very realistic holodeck program of England so he can take her back to the places she talked about from her past. The program includes most of historic London (all the touristy stuff near Big Ben and the London Eye) and Blackpool Pleasure Beach, because she mentioned the beach before and he thought that was a beach, even though it is definitely not.
He happily paints her portrait on more than one occasion, and his quarters are decorated with artwork and photographs of her.
😈 - Three Naughty Head Canons
She was Data's first experience. With anything, for the most part. He does not consider sexual activity prior to his emotion chip as part of his actual experience, and he was happy to defer to her for any and all education that he was missing. He is always happy to defer to her.
He watched a lot of porn in order to properly take ideas she mentioned and put them to good use. A lot. Everything Starfleet had to offer, almost. And he brought those ideas back and presented them to her in a very scientific manner.
The box under her bed is so perplexing to him. Every time she takes it out, there seems to be more things in it that he does not understand, and he cannot correctly identify them through visual scans. He feels silly asking what they are.
😎 - Wildcard Three Random Head Canons
After some time together, Data begins to pick up some of her habits. His movements become just a bit more languid, and he becomes much more comfortable with simply picking her up and carrying her around as it is clear that she enjoys it.
He hates the hammock. He never gets it right.
He begins to take his physical appearance into account for her and dresses according to what she has expressed she likes when they are together. He even acquires civilian clothing and does his hair a little differently. He never addresses this out loud.
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
PatB Nova Ch 7
Ch 7: Perturb
AN: This chapter’s somehow got long so a lot of stuff I wanted to originally place here’s going in the next one.
FFN Link
Terran Date 2015.4.23
Since I currently lack access to my regular equipment, I’m making do with an audio recording program from a Terran computer. I must admit it’s not nearly as efficient as my usual method, but it will have to suffice.
Pinky is an…interesting host. I won’t deny that he’s rather generous, and the delicacy he identified as cream cheese is surprisingly palatable. I’ve also taken up residence in his cage which he also kindly offered for my use as a safe place to sleep. The sponge bed has been moved to the cage per my request.
Objective assessment of Pinky: his species is a lab mouse, his eyes have to be some odd mutation because it cannot be possible for them to be that blue, and he’s an amiable idiot. As I’m recording this, he’s currently scolding two inanimate objects for their failure to keep the cage clean in his absence.
Today’s goal: Pinky is planning for a trip to the local mall to obtain a hat to wear for the Derby. Once again, it’s an illogical custom I am unfamiliar with. I’ve agreed to accompany him for two purposes. The first, clues on Snowball’s whereabouts. And the second, to gather intel on Terran habits for world domination purposes. Snowball and I will be able to put my information to good use when we’re reunited.
Signing off for now, the Brain.
o-o-o-o-o
Getting lost, losing communications, and the unrelenting solitude were the major dangers of setting foot outside of Penumbra. Only the first two conditions applied now.
Pinky leapt through the mail slot and danced along the pavement. He wore a lavender blouse that left his shoulders exposed, his shorts made of a Terran material called denim. Apparently, this excursion was also an opportunity to make a fashion statement. But Brain didn’t see the practicality of Pinky’s clothes. The silly Terran stepped on an odd rock here and there, but his twirls didn’t slow down. Just looking at him made Brain slightly dizzy.
Thin, white clouds drifted lazily in the vast blue sky far above them. Brain looked up, one hand on his brow to shield his eyes from the bright sunlight. New Selene and the stars weren’t visible, though they were somewhere much higher than the sky.
He squinted and lowered his gaze to the ground, dark spots forming in his vision and making everything rather blurry.
Brain had switched his jumpsuit and gloves for a Terran disguise, a simple red shirt and another pair of denim shorts, both items borrowed from Pinky’s large collection of outfits. But since Pinky’s legs were longer, the shorts technically functioned more like pants, and the shirt was knee-length. Though it was comfortable, so he went along with it for now.
Besides, Pinky had been shockingly adamant about the jumpsuit and gloves needing a wash. Brain had protested at first since the material had anti-olfactory functions built in, but Pinky insisted and Brain agreed if only to shut up the Terran.
Procuring formal clothes for conquest would just have to wait.
And there was another issue he hadn’t anticipated.
Everything was so colorful and loud. He was so used to everything being muted and dark. Already he missed the ever present hum of the lab technology, and he’d barely set foot outside the door. Brain stood on the coarse welcome mat, on the border between safety and the unknown.
He was just grateful his accelerated healing kicked in overnight, and the bandages were no longer necessary.
“Come on, Brain!” Pinky shouted as he skipped along the pavement, careful to avoid all the cracks. “The sidewalk is great! Just don’t step on the crack, or you’ll break your mama’s back!”
Brain scowled. “My mother is on a different planet entirely, if she hasn’t already fallen victim to the many dangers of the natural world. Stepping on a cracked rock here on Terra will have no effect on her skeletal structure. The two actions are entirely uncorrelated.”
“The corals are related?” Pinky gasped, hands flying to his mouth in genuine surprise. “I knew they looked similar!”
There was absolutely no reasoning with him, was there?
A large, sleek metal structure roared down the large stretch of pavement in front of them, a cloud of smoke trailing behind it as it rounded a corner and disappeared. It wasn’t his first time seeing one of those vehicles, since they’d been peppered throughout the satellite images he’d viewed back on Penumbra.
A car. One of the forms of land-based transportation on Terra, Brain recalled from the file on Terran technology. Highly practical for traveling long distances.
Cars were much larger in person. The images made them seem so tiny.
And once again, he found himself woefully lacking essential information. Did cars function similarly to a rover? How did it zoom by so quickly? What was the power source?
He looked up at the sky again, but the sunlight had somehow gotten stronger during his pondering, and he quickly averted his eyes.
“Poit. Your eyes are so squinty, Brain!” Pinky lightly tapped Brain’s head, breaking him out of his thoughts. “Don’t look directly into the sun. It’s bad for your eyes and you’d need to eat lots and lots of carrots to fix them and then your fur will turn orange!”
“A side effect of all this light,” Brain replied, making a mental note that carrots were an edible item that caused orange fur. He’d have to avoid them in the future. “I’m fine. Let’s depart for this…mall.”
The word felt strange on his tongue. But his feet wouldn’t leave the safety of the welcome mat.
“I’d love for you to come along, but if you’d rather not, that’s fine too,” Pinky said. There was a slight tinge of disappointment in his voice though, but he still seemed as sunny as the actual star. It was somewhat unsettling.
“Won’t you join my little expedition, Brain?” Snowball wrapped an arm around Brain’s shoulders. Fine mist trailed from the aisam’s claws, surrounding them with an icy chill that traveled up Brain’s spine and settled into his fur. “The road to Eclipse Lab is awfully barren and I could use a little company. Perhaps we could test our skills with star identification along the way.”
Brain shoved him away and Snowball clicked his tongue in disappointment.
“For the last time, I’m n-not interested in visiting that horrible, scrik-ridden m-mess of a lab, Snowball. If you wish to leave New Selene sometime in the next cycle, you will allow me to fine-tune the propulsion system in peace,” Brain retorted, hating the tremor in his voice caused by a brief yet violent case of the shivers. He picked up a wrench and examined it for overuse damage, turning his back on Snowball so he wouldn’t see Brain’s hands tremble.
Whether it was from the cold or the mere thought of setting foot in the place where he’d been prodded and restrained by long, claw-like fingers, he couldn’t say.
“You can’t be an invertebrate, Brain,” Snowball grumbled. His disappointment was palpable, and Brain’s fingers tightened around the wrench. “Our combined intellect is unparalleled and far superior to those imbecilic Terrans. Whatever it takes to rule, whatever it takes to wear the crown, we must seize it by any means possible.”
Then he was gone, and the Conquistador’s silent frame became Brain’s steadfast companion.
“Earth to Brain! Oh sorry, should I say Terra to Brain instead? Come in, Terra to Brain! This is Lieutenant Pinky reporting in! Over!”
Pinky was suddenly in front of his face, and Brain leapt back in surprise. He must’ve been lost in his ponderings again. Pinky held something behind his back, something bright and yellow poking out near his tail.
“Yes, Pinky. I hear you,” Brain sighed. Then Pinky showed him the item behind his back, and it turned out to be the oddest pair of safety goggles Brain had ever seen in his life. The star-shaped frame was yellow and provided little protection for the nose, and the lens were tinted dark instead of clear. “These goggles are highly impractical for technical work.”
“They’re sunglasses actually. Slipped inside and grabbed ‘em while you were pandering. I use these if I’m playing movie star-slash-chiropractor! Try them on!” Pinky said. Deciding it was best to humor him, Brain slid on the glasses, and his vision became a shade darker. The colors were still there, just not as bright. The headache that had threatened to form dissipated into nothingness.
“This is bearable,” Brain said. Pinky was slightly darker as well, though the tinted lens did nothing to diminish his shining blue eyes.
Pinky clapped his hands in glee. “Exactly! Also works for grizzlies and honey bears and teddies! And now you’re a movie star too!”
Brain rolled his eyes, sweeping his antennae back so they didn’t get in the way. “That’s not a classification of any star. Despite your questionable logic, and I use that word in a fairly liberal sense, the color spectrum of your planet is no longer a strain on my eyes. So…thanks.”
“Aww! You’re welcome, Brain,” Pinky said. “And really, you can wear them in the lab too. I don’t mind.”
“No, Pinky. I’m coming along. I have goals to accomplish during this trip,” Brain said. Taking a deep breath, he stepped off the welcome mat, then hopped off the step and onto the pavement.
It wasn’t as difficult as his mind made it out to be.
Pinky laughed, and Brain barely got out of the way in time before several ounces of idiosyncrasies could crash into him.
Brain wouldn’t get anything done by sitting around and being too afraid to leave the lab’s safe haven. Somewhere underneath the massive sky, Snowball was likely planning his own day’s activities. And today, they’d be taking the first steps to conquer Terra.
Through any means possible.
o-o-o-o-o
Brain prided himself on his keen observation skills, something that would serve him well when he and Snowball finally exploited the inhabitants’ many weaknesses. Pinky considered it a ‘a blousery, blustery, beautiful day’, whatever that meant, and skipped to and fro in every direction to take in the sights of the city. Brain kept him in view at all times, not wanting to be left alone in this strange world.
He quickly found that the word ‘Terrans’ failed to encapsulate the biodiversity of the planet, in addition to individual differences between members of the same species. Humans varied greatly in size, shape, and appearance, though even the tallest ones weren’t nearly as large as a Selenian. Some had their heads buried in their devices with cords going into their ears and were oblivious to their surroundings, and Brain had to keep an eye out for those dangerous folks since they didn’t seem to care about anyone in their path.
While inconvenient for him, their failure to pay attention could easily be turned into an advantage.
Several humans walked alongside quadrupedal creatures that sniffed the ground and had collars and ropes around their necks that led to a handle in the human’s hand. Pinky called them ‘dogs’ and ‘leashes’. He was more than happy to clarify anything Brain didn’t understand, and while he figured that he would have to research Terra more in-depth later, Pinky’s happy explanations were sufficient for now.
Brain firmly held Pinky’s hand as they passed by a human and a golden-furred dog with large paws and a long, panting tongue. The dog sniffed them curiously and made a ‘groomph’ noise, and though it didn’t seem hostile, Brain dragged Pinky away before the dog had the opportunity to slobber all over them.
But even the ‘goldy’, as Pinky called it, was more preferable to the tiny, yappy thing that Pinky identified as a ‘Chi-wa-wa’. At least it was yanked back by its leash before it could give chase to them.
Pinky called himself a mouse, and his friend Pharfignewton was a horse. Two species down.
The flying creatures were pigeons, crows, and sparrows. They ate whatever they could scavenge on the ground. The tiny things that scurried around his feet were insects, and Pinky yanked him back from stepping on a sidewalk crack filled with red and black ‘ants’.
“Fire ants will make your feet itchy and tingly!” he warned. “And not the pleasant kind either!”
Brain committed his warning to memory.
Cars crawled by slowly on the street, packed closely as far as the eye could see. They made odd screeching noises from time to time, the humans inside grumpily slamming their palms against their steering devices.
Lights on every corner controlled the flow of cars. Everyone became furious with red and brightened when it was green. He wasn’t exactly sure what yellow was supposed to do since some cars sped right past and others came to a stop. Regardless, humans were dependent on those lights in their vehicles. It was an interesting observation.
There were plenty of additional rules too, which Pinky was adamant on teaching. Only cross at the white strips at the lights, and only when the red hand changed to the green human. Look left, right, then left again before crossing. Pat your head and rub your belly if you see an out-of-state license plate…well, Brain was pretty sure that wasn’t a safety rule since none of the humans were doing it. Just a Pinky thing then.
Everything was alive, from the structures that creaked on the highest buildings to the scattered pebbles underfoot. While he’d known the planet’s atmosphere carried sound far better than New Selene’s, experiencing it for himself was nothing short of fascinating. He’d have to research the exact composition that made it all possible later. Energy flowed towards him in all directions, though the daytime thankfully masked his glowing orbs.
Blending in wasn’t difficult either. Humans were more oblivious than he thought.
“Last corner, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed, twirling happily as they waited for the signal to cross the busy intersection. “Then we’re at the mall! You’ll love it! There’s food and clothing and perfume and toys and-“
“Pinky, what exactly is the purpose of a mall?” Brain asked. Pinky had been rather unclear on that. Mostly he’d just been gushing about all the fun things they could do.
“To do fun fun silly-willy things with your friends and look at stuff you can never afford on a lab mouse’s salary, of course!” Pinky replied.
The signal to cross finally appeared, and Pinky skipped merrily across the white strip, nimbly avoiding getting trampled by several humans walking in the opposite direction. Brain walked at a normal pace, keeping his tail close to his body. He didn’t trust the distracted humans to watch where they were going, especially since their handheld devices seemed to hold more importance than avoiding getting run over heavy wheels.
As Brain stepped onto the sidewalk, an odd texture struck him on the head, knocking his sunglasses askew. Several drops of a lukewarm liquid splashing onto his fur. It didn’t hurt, but it was still an unpleasant surprise. The human next to him didn’t notice. He was too busy yelling into his device and gesturing wildly, then stomped off in a huff. He almost trampled Pinky, who barely managed to pull his tail out of the way before the man’s large foot crushed it.
“Well, he was certainly rude. He littered and didn’t say sorry for dropping the cup on your head!” Pinky complained as he helped Brain to his feet, his blue eyes narrowed at the man’s back as he disappeared into the crowd. He cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted in the man’s general direction. “Hey, litterbug! I bet your mom’s older than you! Narf!”
He gave a firm nod, satisfied with his ludicrous and underwhelming insult.
A furious Pinky. That was an interesting concept, yet anger and Pinky somehow remained mutually exclusive in Brain’s mind.
“Not to worry, Pinky,” Brain said, wiping the liquid away from the base of his antennae. He returned his sunglasses to the proper position. “He’s long gone. I’ve suffered worse.”
Pinky took a deep breath, then took a sniff of the cup’s opening and wrinkled his nose. “Maybe he wouldn’t be so grumpy or litterbuggy if he put more sugar in his cappuccino,” he sighed. “Styrofoam too. Can’t recycle that.”
Dragging the cup over to a nearby garbage can, Pinky hoisted it over his head and trying to stick it through the hole on top. The cup was barely over the rim, Pinky clinging to the metal with one hand and scrabbling for a foothold. He wasn’t giving up without a fight, so Brain grabbed Pinky’s ankles to give him the extra boost needed to push the cup in.
Pinky climbed down once he heard the dull thud from inside the can. “Thanks,” he said gratefully, though he still seemed unusually morose.
Brain walked into a section lined with vegetation and dirt that separated the street from the mall. But Pinky didn’t follow. He was looking into the direction they came from. “The cup’s in the proper place now. Let’s go, Pinky.”
Instead of following Brain, Pinky moved to the curbside, looking down at his feet. Really. Pinky came to the mall for a purpose, however inane it was. He needed to commit to that goal.
Brain growled in frustration, grasping his wayward companion’s wrist and pulling him in the mall’s direction. Pinky stumbled, but hardly budged otherwise. “Quit being stubborn, Pinky. The sun will burn out before you twitch a finger at this rate.”
“But the rest of it…“ Pinky whimpered, pointing to the street.
The road was filled with cups like the one Pinky had just thrown away. Filthy, damp, and unreadable papers lined the curb. A plastic bag tumbled in the wind. There were even a few objects that might’ve been clothing at one point.
Some people passed them by without a care in the world, others clicked their tongue at the mess but hurried on their way. Two people on the other side of the intersection were clothed in white from head to toe, picking away at the garbage with long sticks and depositing them into large bags.
From the sheer amount of garbage that lined the streets, Brain thought it was a futile effort on their part.
This was one of Terra’s downsides. Its inhabitants were destroying the very planet they lived on. It was one of the few observations the Selenian scientists were accurate about.
Pinky reached for a mass of papers, a revolting yellowish-green grime covering its surface, but Brain pulled him back before he could touch it.
“Don’t touch that with your bare hands, Pinky,” Brain scolded. “It’s unsanitary.”
Pinky pouted. Now obstinance. He shifted moods rather quickly, didn’t he? It was baffling.
“We gotta take care of Mother Earth, Brain!” Pinky protested as Brain dragged him into the vegetation. “Or there won’t be any pretty flowers to sniff and the acorn and pinecone elves won’t ever set aside their differences to sign that peace treaty!”
“The databank contained many details regarding the pollution of Terra, Pinky,” Brain admitted. “So I’m aware of the issue. But cleaning this one street would take time we can’t spare. You’re being sidetracked from your goal, and I can’t achieve my own objectives either.”
“Wait…” Pinky murmured. “You’re gonna rule soon, aren’t you? So you can definitely protect the world! That’s wonderful, Brain! I know you can do it!”
The sudden shift in mood caught Brain off-guard.
I can? Brain almost said, but the hope shining in Pinky’s eyes quelled that uncertain response. There was nothing but sincere admiration in that pool of blue, a massive surge of electrons flowing from Pinky’s chest into Brain’s antennae.
He would dare describe the electrons as a positive charge. How? Electrons were supposed to be negative! What kind of anomaly did he have the terrifying pleasure of knowing?
Brain cleared his throat, focusing on the enormous sprawling complex in front of them. Pinky’s blind faith was off-putting, and it was much easier to disregard it. “Of course. I will have unquestionable power in the near-future. Solving these issues will be easier than calibrating an auto-navigation interface.”
Pinky blinked.
“And…I’ll oversee those peace treaty negotiations between the elves.”
Pinky brightened immediately. “Thank you, Brain! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” Long arms snagged Brain and lifted him off the ground in an enormous hug. Brain’s feet kicked out, but the warmth Pinky emitted had the strangest subduing effect. Brain’s antennae weren’t obstructed either, just swept back. Apparently, Pinky learned from last time.
Brain’s chest was oddly warm. Or maybe it was Pinky’s. It was hard to know for certain.
“Your orbs are so glowy,” Pinky said in awe.
And they weren’t achieving anything from this display of sentimentality! With some difficulty, Brain reclaimed his right arm and bopped Pinky on top of his empty noggin.
Pinky immediately let go, stumbling around dizzily and startling a nearby sparrow with his loud giggles. Brain landed on the base of his tail, a brief painful twinge travelling up his spine. In hindsight, he didn’t plan that well. At least there wasn’t another kink.
“That was jolly fun, Brain!” Pinky exclaimed upon recovery.
If he ever had the spare time, he was definitely researching the differences between actual Terran phrases and Pinky-isms.
“I’m sure,” Brain sighed, though he wasn’t sure and never would be, but Pinky didn’t need to know that.
They walked into a large, multi-level structure that Pinky called a ‘parking garage’, which housed a large amount of dormant vehicles. It was similar to the traffic they’d passed earlier, but the drivers were elsewhere. They were packed close, almost touching, and Brain wondered how anyone could possibly get in or out in these tight quarters.
Another few inches closer and the drivers would be completely trapped. That idea had potential.
Pinky hopped onto each yellow marking on the ground, arms flailing as he tried to avoid the gray areas in between. Brain followed at a more sedate pace. Then Pinky gasped and straightened up just as he landed on the last yellow marking before the mall entrance, Brain nearly bumping into him.
“Look, Brain! Somebody’s dropped their wallet!” Pinky gasped, hurrying over to a black object lying against the curb. He undid the zipper and glanced inside. “Egad, that’s a lot of money!”
Brain peeked inside. A wad of folded green paper was tucked inside one of the pockets. “A currency-based economy? Selene and its colonies utilized barter systems,” he said.
Which could be an issue. Brain had originally planned to trade the Conquistador’s spare parts for useful items.
“Oh no, Brain. Currants would get squished in your pants. Then you’d need a really strong stain remover,” Pinky replied. “Besides, this man’s very lucky he can buy so many hats! That’s what I’d do if I had any money!”
He must’ve misheard that. Surely.
“Pinky, tell me you brought the monetary value required for your hat.”
Pinky dug his hand into a fur pocket, but only came out with a piece of fluff. “Hmmm, well, I have some dryer lint! Only money I have is Nicholas the Nickel, and he’s cleaning the cage with—oh.” His ears and tail fell limp under Brain’s glare.
Brain kicked a loose pebble, and it ricocheted harshly off the base of a metal sign. Of all the native species he could’ve chosen for a guide, it just had to be the one individual whose head was denser than a neutron star.
“Sorry, Brain,” Pinky murmured. “I’m not very good at this goal-setting thing, am I?”
He said ‘sorry’ a lot for placation’s sake. But no matter the context, he always sounded sincere. Brain pushed his sunglasses up to his forehead and rubbed the bridge of his nose. Somehow, he couldn’t find it in himself to be irate with Pinky anymore.
“You require more practice,” Brain replied. He glanced at the strange, valuable green papers in the wallet. Funny how they came across the commodity needed at this moment. “However, it’s most fortunate that we should stumble on the item required in trade for your hat.”
The money was all in 20s and 50s, and while Brain was unfamiliar with this currency, he figured there would be enough to spare. He took the money out of the pocket and tucked it under his arm. Then he flipped his sunglasses down, but Pinky tugged the money out of his grip before he could walk off.
“No, Brain! That’s stealing!” Pinky protested, slipping the money back into the wallet. “This rightfully belongs to a Mr. Joe Lamont! We have to take this wallet to Lost and Found now!”
Pinky’s stubborn side came out randomly, it seemed.
“The money is here at your convenience, Pinky. You have to use every asset possible to achieve your goal,” Brain said.
“What if Mr. Lamont needs this?” Pinky tapped a card that displayed a human’s photo along with other identifying information. Then he pointed to a small picture of a man and woman. “What if he needs this for anniversary or birthday presents, or else his wife won’t be happy and he’ll be sad cause he left his wallet somewhere and what if someone picks it up and won’t give it back? Cause that’s just mean!”
“Then he should’ve been more careful with such a valuable item,” Brain snapped. Pinky made a noise of disbelief and turned his back to Brain. “So take one or two of the papers for yourself and give the rest back.”
While he’d prefer to keep the entire wallet for future use, it seemed he would just have to compromise with Pinky.
“He won’t notice.”
“NARF!” Pinky retorted.
His assumption was wrong. Pinky wouldn’t accept a compromise either. It was a losing battle, and as much as hated conceding defeat, no other options presented themselves.
“Fine! Do what makes you happy! See if I care!” Brain shouted at Pinky’s back.
He was only presenting the most logical solution. It wasn’t his fault this idiot wasn’t taking the opportunity! And none of this was helping him find Snowball or conquer Terra either!
“Returning the wallet would make me happy, Brain,” Pinky said with conviction.
“Why?” Brain asked. This wasn’t the type of goal-setting he’d pictured at all.
“It feels right.”
Tasks should be performed with efficiency in mind, not for emotion’s sake. But it seemed that keeping Pinky in his normal euphoric state would be in Brain’s best interest for now.
“Alright, let’s return that wallet. Neither you nor I shall use any of the money for personal reasons. We’re heading to the…Lost and Found?” Brain said reluctantly. He took a deep breath, reminding himself to keep Pinky in a good mood. “You lead the way. I’m not familiar with this locale.”
Pinky faced Brain, and the bright smile was back. Brain looked away. He wasn’t doing this out of altruism, and Pinky needed to learn that.
“Yup, it’s like the Island of Misfit Toys, but for car keys, jackets, and other things too!” Pinky exclaimed, hoisting the wallet above his head. “And now it’s for Mr. Lamont’s wallet!”
The satellite images never pinpointed a geographical location named the Island of Misfit Toys. Probably situated next to a more prominent landmass then.
“Welcome to Macy’s, Brain!” Pinky cheered as they entered a pristine white building. “For all your expensive brand clothing and Thanksgiving Day needs!”
The store was brightly lit, so Brain kept his sunglasses down. Numerous bottles of varying colors were on display. Women shouted from behind their counters, urging passersby to purchase their products. Most people walked by quickly, looking rather uncomfortable and twitchy until they were far from the display area. Only two women seemed interested at all, spraying misty clouds on tiny strips of paper and sniffing them curiously.
“What are they doing?” Brain whispered as he shuffled closer to Pinky for protection’s sake. There was a predatory gleam in those workers’ eyes, and he didn’t like it one bit.
Even Pinky with his near-perpetual cheer seemed uncomfortable, his fingers anxiously drumming against the wallet. “Poit. Selling perfume. All sorts of lovely scents, but this is definitely why online shopping is more popular these days.”
Before Brain could respond, one of the workers suddenly rushed towards them with a manic smile that showed way too many teeth.
“Hi, you wanna buy some perfume buy one and ya get another half price ‘til May!” she shrieked. Without giving them a chance to respond, she sprayed perfume directly in their faces.
Pink mist engulfed them and obstructed their vision. A pungent scent clogged Brain’s nose, trickling its way down his throat, and he let out a hacking cough to expel it. Pinky’s wheeze suddenly turned into a yelp, and by the time the mist cleared, the woman was walking away with the wallet in hand.
Pinky clung to the wallet desperately, his legs kicking out as he was hoisted into the air. “Please, miss! Brain and I—ehem—Brain and I need to give this wallet to Lost and Found so Mr. Lamont can buy his wife nice presents!”
“Oh, it’s a sizeable wallet you’ve got there too!” the woman exclaimed. Brain found her pitch highly grating. “Let’s see, with money like that you can get lilac, honeysuckle, eau de escargot, a perfume that smells like wet goat hair sponsored by Gwenyth Paltrow-“
“I’m sure they smell lovely, but-“
“Very lovely indeed!” the woman spoke over Pinky, who could only dangle helplessly.
Brain gritted his teeth and hurried after them, shaking off his earlier disorientation. When she stopped to jabber about perfume again, he slammed his tail onto her bare ankle and administered a quick shock. Startled, she dropped Pinky the wallet. Brain darted between her sandals just in time to catch Pinky, who clutched the wallet to his chest, slightly dizzy from his sudden fall.
The perfume bottle was aimed in their direction again.
Brain took off with Pinky in his arms, running as fast as he could when those dreaded sandals got too close for comfort. He allowed Pinky to safekeep the wallet, since he was already so protective of it.
“Relentless scrik!” Brain panted as the woman hurled various sales pitches behind them. Pinky wasn’t heavy, but the wallet was a different story. And Pinky made it look so simple!
Well, Pinky was simple in general. Perhaps it was a distributive effect.
“Brain, go into the carpeted area!” Pinky shouted. “She can’t follow us out of her department!”
Deciding to trust Pinky’s word, Brain ran straight onto the carpet, barely dodging someone’s shoe in time, and his foot caught on the raised border between the carpet and tile. He fell onto his face, one of the sunglasses’ handles digging into his fur on impact. Pinky and the wallet tumbled across the floor, coming to a stop a short distance away.
As Pinky predicted, the woman stopped chasing them.
“Annnnd there goes my bonus,” she muttered dejectedly. She slammed the perfume bottle onto a nearby counter, startling a sleepy coworker who toppled off her chair in surprise and plastered on a fake smile for a passing customer. He glanced at her briefly and walked away with a grimace.
“Sooo…welcome to Macy’s?” Pinky laughed nervously. “On the bright side, we smell like radish roses now!”
Brain threw a button at him.
o-o-o-o-o
They kept to the corners after that fiasco, hoping to avoid drawing attention to a moving wallet. Pinky marveled at the various styles advertised by a human-like object he called a ‘Manny Kin’. He prattled on about the models and clothing, and Brain tuned him out to better observe the humans.
The younger ones appeared restless and bored out of their minds. The adults often stopped to admire an article of clothing, checked the price, and shook their heads before moving onto the next item. Everyone was dressed in a far more casual style than the clothing on sale.
“Oh, here’s the mall center! It’s where all the real fun happens, Brain!” Pinky said, his tail wagging in excitement. “Plus, the Lost and Found is just beyond this store. We’ll make Mr. Lamont happy in no time!”
Instead of a back wall, there was a large, doorless opening that led out of the store. Pinky danced his way across the boundary with a cheerful goodbye to the Macy’s sign. As Brain stepped into the wide open space, he was astounded by the sheer scale of the mall center.
He’d expected a plain corridor that connected different sections, not a massive space with a roof that appeared to touch the sky. The population density was much higher than in Macy’s, humans loudly chatting among themselves, shouting at consumers to purchase wares, and swinging large bags from their arms.
There were two floors above their heads, connected to the ground by staircases and escalators. The escalators seemed by far the popular choice for people moving between floors. Brain felt dizzy just looking at that open space above them, and he decided to focus only straight ahead for now.
Dozens of smaller stores lined the walls. Most of them sold clothes like Macy’s, and Brain couldn’t fathom why humans needed so many stores just to sell clothes. A fresh, rich scent wafted through the air, and though it was much more pleasant than the perfume, it made him somewhat famished as well.
“Look, Brain! The cookie shop! Don’t they smell divine?” Pinky asked with a dreamy sigh. “They taste delicious too!”
“Another one of your foods?” Brain asked, though it fell on deaf ears. Pinky had gone over to the display case, practically drooling on it as he admired the cookies inside, the wallet leaning against his side.
Brain stood on the other side of the wallet, just in case anyone had any ideas about stealing it.
At first, Brain thought the cookies were classified by ingredient, but one of the groups was labelled ‘snickerdoodle’ and Brain was of the opinion that no sane planet in the universe would ever call anything by that strange moniker.
“Let’s be on our way, Pinky,” Brain said, because there wasn’t anything productive he could do while his Terran guide was staring longingly at cookies. “That wallet won’t return itself.”
“Okay, Brain…” Pinky said forlornly. His hands squeaked sadly against the glass, but before he could pick up the wallet, a woman came out from behind the counter, her dark hair tied back in a bun. She approached them with a napkin in one hand.
Brain grabbed Pinky’s hand and the wallet, tensing up in case he had to yank them away at a moment’s notice.
But the woman made no move to snatch the wallet. She only squatted next to them and held out the napkin, revealing two small pieces of cookies. “Free sample?” she asked. “They’re fresh out of the oven.”
“Thanks so much...Laura!” Pinky read the name tag pinned to her shirt, then snatched up one of the pieces and shoved it into his mouth. Crumbs stained his muzzle. “Narrrrf! That was dee-lish!”
Cautiously, Brain took the second piece and bit into it. Sweetness flooded his taste buds, and he quickly finished his portion, the cookie melting in his mouth. If anything, Pinky had understated how delicious it tasted.
“It’s exquisite,” he said to Laura, who beamed right back.
“Glad you enjoyed it!” Laura said. She provided them with wet napkins so they could rid themselves of the remaining crumbs, and they left the cookie shop behind.
“She was so nice, Brain!” Pinky said, safeguarding the wallet once again. “Sugar cookies are my favorites! Well, after chocolate chip and macadamia and snickerdoodle-“
Brain nodded. “She didn’t steal anything while our guard was down. Count that in your definition of ‘nice’.”
Thankfully, they didn’t have to walk far to get to the Lost and Found. Brain hoped to put this wallet nonsense behind them in the next half hour. They had objectives to fulfill.
The Lost and Found was in a hallway that led to an exit from the mall, and Brain made a mental note of its location. He refused to set foot in that Macy’s ever again.
A podium was situated in front of the doors, and the worker behind it nervously held out a box to an irate man in a formal suit similar to the merchandise at Macy’s. He snatched the box and threw several articles of clothing and various lost items to the ground.
Pinky lifted the wallet above his head, his feet tapping in excitement. “That’s the man! He looks exactly like his pictures!”
Mr. Lamont was practically tearing the box apart without any regard for the other lost belongings, and the worker’s eyes were wide with fear. That didn’t bode well. Brain grabbed Pinky’s tail, but it slipped out of his grasp. The idiot had no sense of impending danger and walked right up to the belligerent man.
“You’re hiding it, aren’t you?” Mr. Lamont snarled, slamming his hand against the podium. The worker cowered behind his chair. “Hand over my wallet this instant, or you’ll be out of a job.”
The worker paled.
Brain rushed over to try and pull Pinky back. Mr. Lamont hadn’t noticed them yet. There was still a chance they could slip the wallet among the other items and leave without detection.
“Hi, Mr. Lamont! You dropped your wallet in the parking garage!” Pinky greeted. “Me and my friend here were just taking it to Lost and Found, and what a coinkydink we’d find you here too! Isn’t that great?”
Pinky held the wallet up expectantly, that silly smile never leaving his face.
Mr. Lamont snatched the wallet out of Pinky’s hands, wrinkling his nose haughtily.
“You’re welcome!” Pinky chirped, then happily turned to Brain. “We did it!”
Pinky had done most of the work, but if he wanted to share credit, Brain chose not to correct him. “Yes. Now we may return to what we originally-“
Mr. Lamont’s foot slammed into Pinky’s side, too fast for Brain to shout a warning. Pinky yelped as he was thrown into a wall. There he laid in a crumpled heap, hands wrapped around his abdomen for protection.
“How much did you take, thief?” Mr. Lamont spat. He cast a looming shadow over Pinky, who whimpered in pain, tears forming in pitiful blue eyes.
It was such a foreign appearance for the idiotic but kindhearted mouse.
A strange fury overtook Brain, one that was much different from dealing with troublesome ships, arguing with Snowball, or frustration with his current predicament. It brewed in the depth of his stomach and spread through the rest of his body.
Brain whipped off his sunglasses, placing himself firmly between Pinky and the ungrateful reprobate.
“He stole nothing from you,” Brain growled. “Count the money yourself, you repugnant excuse of an organism, unless your mind has degraded far beyond the ability to perform simple arithmetic.”
“And just who do you think you are?” Mr. Lamont sneered.
Brain crossed his arms proudly. He refused to cower before the Terran. “A genetically enhanced Selenian mos seeking dominion over your world.”
And when all was said and done, Mr. Lamont would be bowing down to him.
But that glorious fantasy was cut short. Brain saw the black sole of a shoe, there was a forceful pressure against his body. His limbs refused to cooperate. He couldn’t reach his tail for self-defense, his heart pumping faster and faster until it couldn’t compensate for the lack of electrons anymore-
The crushing pressure vanished.
Faraway voices blended together, one angry, one meek, and one familiar.
Someone lifted his head, a gentle hand moving his antennae aside, then slowly pushed his head down until he rested against soft fabric. Brain’s fingers twitched. His full mobility would take several minutes to return, but this wasn’t a terrible position to wait it out.
A drop of moisture fell on his face, followed by several more.
Rain?
He’d heard of that particular climate pattern, but had never seen it in action before.
Brain opened his eyes, craning his neck to see this curious phenomenon. But he was met with Pinky’s tearful gaze instead.
He’d learned much of Terran culture during this expedition, but was it really worth all these ridiculous emotions?
“Stop dampening my fur with your lacrimal ducts, Pinky,” Brain said, his voice hoarse.
Pinky managed a giggle, inanity that was far more preferable to all this crying. “Sorry, Brain. I don’t have any milk. But are you okay? P-p-poit.”
“I’ll need several minutes to recuperate. Then I’ll be ready.” Brain felt his cheeks heat up from the proximity. Mobility returned to his right leg, and he couldn’t wait for this mortifying close contact to be over. “Where’s Mr. Lamont?”
Pinky scowled at the name, an expression that looked odd on him, but not wholly unwelcome. “Mr. Lameany called you vermin and left with his wallet. But you’re not vermin, Brain! You’re my best friend!”
A childish insult. He’d have to teach Pinky about using more sophisticated language.
“And you…are Pinky,” he sighed, patting Pinky’s arm.
Pinky smiled brightly. At least Brain could strive towards one of his objectives. They weren’t quite through with business at the mall though. He’d have to tough it out.
But for now, he settled back against Pinky, who happily taught him the age-old Terran method of settling arguments known as rock-paper-scissors.
AN: FINISHED AT LAST.
I am not making stuff up as I write I totally had a plan for this fic y’all can’t prove nothing.
Brain gets to learn good and bad stuff about Terra, poor Pinky gets hurt. These mice can’t even go the mall without something happening, can they?
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
Flight of Fancy -4- (Black!Batmom)
‘Where are you?’
It’s a calm question that flashes over the screen of your phone. The lack of rhetorical flourishes lets you know who was asking before you even looked at the name of the messenger. Jojo.
“Do you need to answer that?”
Your eyes flicker up to meet the curious blue ones sitting across the table from you.
“It’s just my friend checking on me,” you explain typing in a quick ‘I’m fine’ in reply to Jojo. She wouldn’t ask too many questions when she saw how short you were being. “I didn’t tell them I was going out.”
A pleasant smile quirks at his lips and you’re forced to avert your gaze from his eyes. A part of your wishes he was being as unpleasant as he had been the last time you met. It was easier not to think he was attractive when he was being mean, even though that was still monumentally hard.
You clear your throat as you look down at the plate in front of you. There were a few fries left and only a few pieces of wilted lettuce hinted at the burger that had previously occupied your plate. It surprised you when you had sat down at a restaurant that could only be described as a five-star greasy spoon. While this isn’t exactly what you would have described as a complete relaxed atmosphere, it surprised you that Bruce would know anything about a place like this. There was the very possibility that he didn’t and had just googled “non-shitty burger joint” and this was the first one that popped up. You chose to think he did come here when he wasn’t eating Foie gras.
“Sorry if I ate too fast,” You say when you looked back up at him, a slight grimace on your face. Thinking about it now, you’d been rude since he picked you up. You had cried all the way over to the restaurant, while he had tried to console you. When you sat down and ate your food, you’d angrily shoved fries and your burger in your mouth, while you told him about all the wrongs that Kenya had done to you. And now you couldn’t even take the time not to answer your phone during dinner. Your mother would give you the eyebrow of doom if she could see you know.
“It’s not a big deal,” he said, understanding. “It seems like you had a hard day.”
“It just sucks to be blindsided like that you know,” You sigh as your lips naturally pull down into a pout. This time, before you go on another rant, you catch yourself and are able to change topics. “Why did you want to bring me here?”
A slight look of surprise comes across Bruce’s face at your rapid change in topic, but it’s quickly followed by an amused smile, “I wanted to apologize for the way I behaved when we met.”
“Really?” You ask with a raised eyebrow.
“Really,” he says looking down remorsefully and stirring the bowl of chili that is placed in front of him. “When dealing with people in the corporate world, you think of things as all or nothing. Sometimes you forget that there are actual people’s livelihoods at stake.”
It wasn’t what you were expecting, and you didn’t know how to respond. You supposed you could understand his somewhat heartless manner when he was dealing with you. Now that you had been working with Kenya, you’d seen her almost take the souls out of people’s bodies, and everyone just treated it like it was normal. Perhaps you should have been prepared for how he had treated you, you had gone there intending to negotiate with him. It just so happened what was being negotiated about had changed.
“And threatening you, that was horrible of me,” he continues as he meets your gaze seriously. “It shouldn’t have happened.”
“It’s all right,” you sigh quietly, “To be honest you’ve kind of done more than my friend has to make me feel better about the situation.”
“The woman I met at our first meeting, right? Kenya?”
“Oh, you remembered.”
“It’d be hard not too, she was quite adamant about me getting to that meeting.”
“Yeah, me too,” You say with a slightly irritated sigh. While you had told him how negative she had been regarding your feelings and experiences. Telling him she wanted you to shake your titties at him to get him to buy your work seemed like an insult that he was better off not knowing about.
‘Oh, God! am I friends with a bad person?’
“If there’s anything that I can do to make it up to you, please let me know.”
From how she sounded at the bowling alley, it didn’t sound like she was above trying to put you in that position again.
“Anything?” You question
“Anything,” He says with a warm smile and a nod of his head
‘Maybe I should take him up on his job offer’
It’s a thought that runs through your mind quickly and makes you feel guilty almost immediately as it comes. Partly because you know that, you’d never would have thought about it if Kenya hadn’t been a complete and utter dick to you today. Another part was because if you had asked about it, wouldn’t he just think you were giving him the runaround?
You were sure that he already thought of you as some little girl that could barely keep her life together, judging by the number of amused smiles he’d flash you and the way he’d just let you ramble on about nothing.
Still though, as it was when he first offered it, even with all the threats, it was a good offer. Having unlimited resources backed by a billionaire who thinks you’re a genius, what could be better?
God, you wished Kenya hadn’t been such an asshole today. The need for revenge is rising in your throat.
“I,” you have to bite at your tongue to keep from asking if the offer was on the table. “I’ll have to think about it, no one’s really offered me anything before.”
“Don’t worry, I’m patient.”
“At least someone is.”
That wasn’t supposed to slip out. He lets out a polite laugh, and you wonder if he knows that you’re making a dig at one of your oldest friends. If he does, he doesn’t comment on it. For that, you're grateful.
“If I asked you for a ride home would that count as my anything?” You question. And although you were genuinely curious, it came across as much more flirtatious than intended. In fact, when the question had left your lips, you felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment. If you looked away, would he know that there was something wrong?
It is so subtle you almost miss it, the slight turn up at one corner of his mouth. A smirk that is quickly hidden by a laugh, “Of course not, I’m not a jerk.”
Shit, was Kenya, right? Did he really think you were attractive? Or was it that maybe he was used to girls getting flirty with him? Did that smirk mean he knew you were like all the others; you couldn’t help but think he was amazing? How embarrassing.
“Shall we?” He asks moving to stand up.
“Oh,” you respond somewhat startled out of your thoughts. “Don’t we have to pay?”
“Don’t worry,” He says casually slipping his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I’ll make sure they get their money.”
“Really?”
“Of course” He says, placing a hand on the small of your back, “I own the place, so it shouldn’t be too hard.”
“Oh, so you didn’t have to google this place,” you say slightly amazed. You bite your tongue in irritation; another thing that wasn’t supposed to slip out.
“What was that?” He asks with a chuckle.
“Nothing, never mind.”
The ride to your apartment was quiet, and you were grateful for it. If he had tried too hard to make a polite conversation, you probably would have asked him about the job. A part of you was still feeling more than a bit spiteful and you didn’t trust yourself not to act on those impulses. Not only that, you had embarrassingly touched his hand when he rested his arm on the rest between the seats. What if he got the idea that you were trying to flirt with him? You’d never live it down.
Because you totally didn’t want to flirt with him, right? No matter how nice he looked in the moonlight.
It’s not long until you're in front of your building. As you pull down the block, you see the form of the building security guard take shape, and even from a good distance away you can see that he’s already eyeing Bruce’s car skeptically. In Gotham, just because someone had a nice car didn’t mean that they wouldn’t bring trouble.
He parks and immediately gets out of the car to open your door for you.
“You don’t have to do all this,” you say as you step out, lifting up to the curb with the help of his hand. “I already said that I forgave you.”
“You think I’m opening the door for you because I want you to accept my apology?” He asks with a raised eyebrow.
It seemed kind of silly, when it was probably just a habit he learned from whoever raised him.
You don’t respond immediately and instead turn to throw a familiar wave at the security guard who is still watching the pair of you intently. At your gesture, he aims a flashlight at you and quickly relaxes and turns it off when he recognizes your form.
“Actually,” you start when you turn to give Bruce your attention again, “there is something that I wanted to ask you.”
“Really? What a coincidence, there is something that I wanted to ask you.”
“You go first,” You interject quickly.
“I know that when we talked at my company, that I didn’t seem like the nicest person in the world, but I was wondering if-,”
“Yes!” You interject excitedly. “I was hoping you'd ask, so I wouldn’t feel like a total ass.”
“An ass for going on a date with me?”
“A date? What?” You question confusedly. “I thought you were asking if I had changed my mind and wanted to come work with you.”
“Well, that too, I suppose.”
“Wait, you want to date me?” You ask incredulously.
“Is that bad?”
“No, I mean. I guess I just didn’t expect it,” you mumble.
“Why not?” He questions with a smooth smile on his face. “You're beautiful and talented, what’s not to like.”
‘The fact that Kenya set this up from the beginning,’ you groan mentally. The idea of falling directly in her trap did not make you feel great. And a part of you wondered if he was only asking because of superficial reasons, like Kenya had suggested he would. Then again, it wouldn’t matter what Kenya had set up if you didn’t work for her, would it?
“So is the job offer on the table?” You ask skeptically.
“If you want it.”
“And if I took it, would I have to work for you directly or am I independent?”
“Just for the prototype you already have in development. After that you’re free to develop whatever you want. Occasionally, Lucius may pass you some assignments, but you’d be pretty much free.”
You’d liked Mr. Fox, until he led you into the room where you got the shit scared out of you. Maybe working for him wouldn’t be too bad.
“All right,” You say with a nod of your head.
“All right?” He questions silently asking you what you were agreeing too.
“To both,” you say somewhat confidently. “All right to both.”
“Good.”
***
“What the hell is this?”
The brown-haired beauty stared at you in slight disbelief, when she finished reading the letter you had placed on her desk.
“I’m resigning,” you say wringing your hands around the looped handle of your purse.
It’s a tense moment of silence that passes between the two of you and you find yourself constantly shifting your gaze between her angry brown eyes and the statue sitting on a shelf just right over her head.
“No, you’re not,” she says with a chuckle, her brow relaxing. “What are you going to do, wait tables? You need this job.”
“I already have one lined up,” you interject quickly. “And it just so happens that that it involves me making more than minimum wage.”
She looks at you skeptically for a moment, most likely surprised by the snark of your comment. In truth, you were as well. As confident as you felt when strutted into her office, the ever-critical look that she gave you had you feeling more like that freshman she picked up on the first day of college.
You didn’t think everything would end up this way. You had relied on her for so many things, the fact that you were here just throwing it in her face, felt strange. However, as strange as it felt, you didn’t want to be used anymore. And as silly as it sounded, the thought had crept into your mind that it may be possible that she would have been playing how to use you since the first day she met you? Why else would she have picked you of all people to be friends with?
“He got to you, didn’t he,” She blurts, an ominous look, clouding her eyes.
“Who?” You question dumbly.
“What’d he offer you? A corner office? A company car? A huge bonus?”
“Mr. Wayne?” You question realizing who the implication had been. “I am taking the job he offered, but it was my decision. He didn’t trick me into doing anything.”
“Oh, right because you’re too pure for that,” She says with a roll of her eyes. “I seem to remember you doing some questionable work to pay that college tuition.”
“I’m not ashamed of what I had to do to get by,” You state tersely feeling your nostrils flaring anger. “And that is the reason I’m taking the job. I will not let you control my life, Kenya.”
“Control your life?” She questions with a chuckle. “Without me think about where you would be.”
Sensing that she was about to dive into a rant, you stop her, “Actual friends don’t hold the supposed help that they offer over someone's head.”
“Actual friends,” Kenya asks, arms crossing over her chest. “So I’m not your friend now?”
“Not when you try to sell me to get ahead,” You spit feeling your anger swell in your chest. “I went along with it, Kenya, but you had to know that was the last thing that I wanted to do.”
“You didn’t complain then,” she points out. “And now you claim you’re leaving me to go fuck the man I chose for you. So it doesn’t seem like it bothered you that much.”
“You know what,” you say, pushing yourself up from your chair. “I’m done. I’ve just decided that I don’t want to have this conversation with you anymore. In fact, I don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore. We’re done Kenya. Don’t call me, don’t ask about me, don’t text me.”
You turn to storm out of her office and only stop when she roars back at you.
“Glad to see that not much has changed, you’re running from your problems just like you’ve always done. So I know I won’t have much to worry about you working for Wayne. Because just as soon as something gets hard for you, you’ll just run to whatever other handout you can find.”
“At least it will be my choice whom I get to run too.”
And with that, you walk out of her door. Fully intent not to see her again.
#batman#batfamily#batmom#batman imagine#batman x reader#bruce wayne#bruce x reader#bruce imagine#bruce wayne imagine#bruce wayne x reader
98 notes
·
View notes