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cruzrogue · 3 years ago

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PrepPy GoThic LoVe

A redo. Cleaning up the story in A03.

Chapter 9 The PaRentals

Tommy can feel that he is being watched. Since stepping out of his high-rise apartment this morning he can’t shake the feeling off. It doesn’t help that in early today he called his father with a bizarre request. Malcolm Merlyn may not be the father of the year, but he is great at getting information.

Leaving a motel room with some annoyance as he paid off a photographer with a hefty price tag. At least he is now the sole owner of pictures and its negatives that he has safely stored in a pocket of his jacket. Just as the seatbelt clicks his cell phone goes off. A ringtone especially chosen to let him know it’s best to pick up or deal with the fallout of pissing his father off.

“Dad.”

“I thought I told you not to deal with the seedy professional yourself.”

“It’s just a sleezy…”

“An unknown threat. You cannot walk into an unfamiliar situation without a plan. Have a not taught you anything?” Tommy knows that is a rhetorical question. Best not to say anything. “Now, what exactly does he have on you?”

“Dad, umm… thanks for the information last night but everything is fine.”

“Asking me what I’d do if pictures were taken that you didn’t want to be released doesn’t make me feel confident that everything is fine.”

“I got the pictures, so everything is fine.”

“Thomas!”

“No really dad. I can handle myself.” Tommy rushes to end this call, “I got to go. Bye.” Oh yea, he is going to get grief over how he ended that call. He just doesn’t need a lecture right now. It isn’t too impossible to figure that his dad has eyes on him here in Boston. Probably the Queens also pay for this kind of service. He won’t mention his thoughts on that with Oliver; his best friend’s plate is full.

Cracking his neck as a headache is still in full bloom. Bombarded with question after question from his ice queen female buddy from Starling City. It was a miracle he didn’t ask her to shut up. Glad to have finally handoff the keycard to a hotel room.

Tired of years of being that friend in the middle. The one that she’d phish on getting data on his best friend. Because she loves his baby blue eyes. As if that were the only corner stone to her ridiculous needs. Laurel on a good day could be someone he can see dating but this girl is needy.

He is a free spirit and likes what privilege his family name offers. Plenty of girls, alcohol, good times and like he said on many occasions until recently where he like Oliver minus the baby… partying isn’t enough anymore. With that he isn’t a fool. He still does his part. His father isn’t a forgiving man.

The only person he trusts is Oliver Queen, his best buddy since… since they’ve known each other. Now Felicity Smoak is in his orbit. She’s cool and knows things that he hasn’t even said to Oliver. He is beginning to see another path for himself. Maybe be the doctor he once wanted to be when he was a kid. That is what makes Felicity special. Her supporting ways make him want to be more. Her sass on par to his own cockiness. All he knows is somewhere, somehow along the way he became very protective of her. Even when he didn’t like her choices of men. Like Cooper. He once told that fool to wise up, but he thought Kyle was that creep’s son hence why he kept from expressing his dark judgements to that jerk on several occasions.

Back to why he has a headache. Getting Laurel off his back the moment she found him to be the answer to everything. Her constant hounding him for dirt and he was stuck with her for less than an a few hours’ time.

If you cross her, she can be quite the bitch. Laurel sometimes just can’t let go of whatever ails her. Like a dog with a bone, she just will gnaw on it until nothing is left. Her commitment, tenaciousness, stubbornness, determination, single-mindedness is fine if she wants to be a lawyer. This grabbing hold of something and not letting go isn’t so great when it is going against two friends he cares for. It really doesn’t help that the Queen matriarch is egging her on. Oh boy! When Mrs. Queen finds out her son has a son of his own. He doesn’t even want to be a fly on that wall.

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Entering his apartment, he shares with Oliver. The said man is parked in front of his normal study desk as he is reading with the TV on for some background noise.

“You’ve been gone a long time?” Oliver hopes he hasn’t hooked up with… he can’t even say it.

“I was taking care of my buddy’s recent problem.”

“Laurel?” He says that with disgust.

“What? hell no. She’s another problem you’ll have to tend to without me. Even though I fed her and took her to her premium suite at the hotel of her choosing.”

“Sorry.” Oliver at least looks pained, “I just could not handle her without maybe committing some crime.”

“No shit! But that isn’t the problem I handled.”

“Then what was the problem?”

“The man who took your picture he was advised you’d be at the restaurant.”

“What?”

“Well while you rode in the back with your son, Laurel was texting a phone number your mom must have given her.”

“Why do you think my mom…”

“Your mom has used this person on numerous occasions.” He hands Oliver a folder this man already developed the film. The dude is old school. Mostly everyone uses digital now.

“How did you get this…”

“I paid some good money, and damn you’re in it deep. He was just there to snap some photos of you and your fiancé.”

Oliver just sighs. At least he now knows for certainty his mom is instrumental in all this.

“He doesn’t know about the kid. I would have lied about the kid but…”

“Laurel knows I’m a dad.”

“Yep, you better come clean to your parents.”

Oliver just nods and he looks like he is going to respond but takes a minute to ponder. Leaving Tommy to find his favorite chair and click the remote. Setting the volume on low as he glances to what he’ll essentially call a nephew sleeping away in a bassinet.

“Did you do more shopping?”

“I did.”

Tommy hands over the photographs. Giving his best friend credit on making sure the carrier that carried his son was secured with a cover. Using a blanket for the added measure was smart too. Tommy can already tell his best friend is going to be super overprotective of his newborn.

“None of these show Robbie. That good at least.”

“I don’t think that guy noticed the carrier because the shots are more geared towards Laurel’s engagement ring.”

“She’s not engaged.”

“That is what your mother wanted to exploit.”

“I haven’t had a real conversation with my mom since July.” Making a disgruntled sound, “Ever since that stunt.”

“Well yea I wouldn’t be thrilled either if I was suddenly engaged without consent.”

“I got off the phone with my dad about an hour ago. He isn’t thrilled. At least I came clean. He is totally disappointed.”

“Does he at least entertain the idea of a grandson?”

“He has no choice.” Shrugging, “He said he’d talk to my mom.” Oliver gets up to check on his son. Making sure he is comfortable as he sleeps. “Do you mind keeping an eye on him it’s chilly outside and I need to pick up Felicity?”

“I feel like my uncle duties are just beginning.”

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Waiting for Felicity to bring her home like he told her when he dropped her off for her co-op work study. It’s been a long day and he sits in the car recalling today’s events. Today’s proceedings are beginning to sink in.

A huge impact on his life has been altered. Yesterday he was a doomed preppy guy who couldn’t get a ghost of a Gothic chic out of his mind. He went to a frat party to find her and in a surprising twist finds the mother of his child. Now he is waiting for his girlfriend. They have yet to have a first date. Talk about living arrangements. Talk about everything. He means everything.

Waking up with her in his bed this morning and not some nook at that loud, smelly, fraternity dwelling happens to be a vast improvement. Her naughty words to him as he tore her dress won’t be forgotten for as long as he lives. Knowing enough that holding her creamy flesh to his may never be sufficient. If just her memory within this past year had such a power over him. He can’t wait to see what being with her will be like.

Felicity’s little witticisms in the heat of passion makes it feel like they’ve never separated. She’s a vixen and Oliver could tell by the envious looks of the other guys that his girl would be one to always turn heads. Catching a preview of some garments in her dorm’s closet. He can’t wait to see her parade her style. Oliver won’t say it aloud. Will not give Tommy ammunition to how pathetic he’s really been since waking up alone in a frat house and finding he lost his mojo to be the same old playboy gone.

He knows a little about subculture and occult themes. Being the owner of a few Haute Goth wear that he found irresistible when doing some homework on the different aesthetics that reflect Classic, Aristocrat, Victorian and other fashions.

Her little freak out this morning could have been a disaster, but all Oliver could think about is how perfect Felicity felt in his arms. How his dreams of her didn’t measure up to reality. He isn’t letting her go.

Oliver also isn’t a fool to think he knows her because he doesn’t. Both come from different worlds.

He spent this morning watching her sleep. It was exhilarating on figuring a suave way on how he would ask her out. To basically court her. The goal to start a relationship. That was the simplest wishes this morning. Extending a courtship to only get a life alternating tale and bam he is a father.

Dumbstruck. The discussion around him and Oliver unable to act as Tommy took her home and when the door closed after his best bud’s congratulatory praise leaving him alone to pace.

There is a little human that is a part of him.

Baffled now because he has no idea how his parents will handle this. Today he spoke to his father twice on the phone. Each time a tad different because the first call he didn’t fess up on the circumstances Oliver finds himself in.

The first call, Oliver was still bewildered with the huge surprise he just had received of being Kyle’s dad. Discerning it as if he is reliving those moments with his dad.

As if a sign on how the universe just loves messing with him the phone rings and a picture of his father pops up. He realizes he forgot to call his dad as promised early this morning. Sitting up on the kitchen island stool as he’s just so out of it with just being told a truth.

“Sorry dad, I know I was supposed to call earlier.”

“It’s fine. Though a phone call once in a while would be nice, your mother worries enough about you.”

“How is mom, Thea?”

“They’re fine. I was calling to see if this winter you’d go for a family getaway?”

He wants to scream that he has a son and probably wouldn’t think of leaving Felicity and his kid this holiday season, but he just uses the comfortable stance of his academic studies, “Um dad, I’ll have at least two classes for that time scheduled already. It will really help my GPA.”

“So no to Aspen?”

“Dad, I…”

“I know that tone. What is wrong?”

“Nothing really!”

“Oliver?”

“There’s just a lot going on and…”

“Does this have to do with distancing yourself since your mother’s stunt this past summer?”

“I’m not engaged.”

“I know that son.”

A defeated sigh because he really doesn’t have the energy to hash things out, “Does mom?”

“She just worries about you.”

“She sent me some groom-to-be stuff; in anger I threw it out.”

“I’ll talk to her. It sounds like she may be taking it too far.” A pause “Oliver, just so you know your mother is in contact with Laurel. I know it’s not what you want to hear.” Oliver grumbles. “I’ll talk to her see what I can do. About the Holiday plans we will expect you to come home.”

“We’ll see dad, we’ll see.”

“Well, I have some other calls to make so make sure to keep in touch.”

“Thanks dad.”

After some pleasant goodbyes Oliver tosses the phone down and stares off to a focal point across the room. There is a lot of thinking to do.

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The second phone call is even worse. Coming home from having a dreaded dinner with an ex that now knows to much about his state of affairs. To top that off with a darn stranger lurker around taking pictures. Nothing like fleeing a scene and feeling like some criminal.

Calling his dad, a dread comes over Oliver as he has no choice but to come clean. Disappointing his family once again. At least his father’s words didn’t overwhelm him.

“This is not what I expected when I called you this morning.”

“Dad for whatever its worth, I really like her.”

“You just found out about a son; don’t you think it’s relevant she would have told you earlier?”

“That’s a long story.”

“One you will go into detail when you sit down before your mother and I.”

“Dad!”

“No Oliver. This isn’t something you can weasel out of.”

“Fine but don’t treat the mother of my child like an enemy.”

“If she’s like all the other girls you’ve brought home…”

“Felicity, her name is Felicity and she’s… she’s the muse of why I’ve changed.”

“Wait!” For a second Oliver can hear his father’s tone is slightly surprised, “Are you telling me she’s the girl you’ve been pinning about?”

After the call ends with uncertainty a lot of one-sided fatherly advice which leaves Oliver weary but confident enough to follow his own heart.

Finally leaving the stupor he is in. He sees Felicity exiting the building. Oliver can tell something is off as her facial features seems to show signs of irritation. She looks peeved and in a fraction of a second a sheet of paper is plastered on the passenger side window. With bad lighting and dark surroundings, he can’t read it. Lowering the window panel down he tries coaxing into getting into the car only to get a muffled reply of no.

“Where’s Kyle?”

“You mean Robbie.”

“I know his name. Until it is changed. His name is Kyle.”

He takes the sheet of paper she’s holding up and realizes why she is so mad.

“I’m not engaged!”

“Really! That newsprint says otherwise.”

“You researched me?”

“I can understand peeing on a cop, but this…”

“Get in the car we can talk about...” Her eyes narrowed and he gulps. “Felicity.” Getting out of the car he can already sense they are going to have their first fight on a sidewalk off an MIT building at roughly a few minutes after ten at night.

“Where is our son?”

“In a crib sleeping at my place. Tommy is there.”

She’s fumingly pacing across the grass to a tree then back near him and the vehicle while he stands there using the car as a prop.

“Why does everyone from…”

“Starling City. It’s a long story.”

“You have a minute to explain.”

“My mom announced my engagement without me even popping the question. And… No! I wasn’t never going to propose.”

“So…”

“My mom has it in her head I need to settle down.”

“Let me get this straight.” Her eyes narrowing at Oliver. “Your mom announces your engagement to Laurel Lance even though you aren’t interested in marrying her?” He nods. “Just great! How do you think she’s going to feel about our relationship? I mean…”

“I don’t know, but my dad wants to meet you soon?”

“Wait! Your dad?” The mystified glare she is giving would be comical if he wasn’t in hot water, “Does your mother know?”

“Maybe, I don’t know. I haven’t spoken to her. Just my dad.” Oliver staggers upon Felicity to help stop her pacing, “He said he’d talk to my mom.”

“How do you think that’ll go?”

“I think we should stay at your place just in case they show up at my place?”

“What is the chance they won’t show up at my place either?”

“I’m hoping Tommy would give us a heads-up warning.” With Felicity not pacing anymore he directs her to the car, “Now please get in the car.” She reluctantly sits in the passenger seat still a little peeved. More upset with the situation and herself but she won’t tell him that. They really don’t know much about each other which with a shared offspring that just sounds weird in her own head.

“I want to know you better?” She lets out halfway to his place.

“That’s the whole point of dating but with the paid photographer finding out about…”

“What?” Her head makes a spin so fast from where she was looking out the passenger window to now finding his physical form. “Is our son safe? Oliver what is going on?”

“Let’s get to my place but first.” He pulls a hoodie from the central console, “Use this. It can help cover your identity. Just a precaution.” He is slowing down a few blocks from the unground garage.

“No. No. No. We talk now.”

“Fe-li-ci-ty” he draws out her name, it supposed to sound annoying but it actually makes her smile which she has to stop because she’s mad but the smile is not unnoticed by him so he parks the car on the next available space.

“So, you want to talk fine…” He really doesn’t want to talk in a car but she seems adamant and that only fuels what he going to tell her.

“Why are you being difficult?” she asks concerned.

She knows he probably has no idea how good she is at finding information. The thing about her work-study is that she is planted with a computer and she can plug away with a few key tools she carries with her everywhere. Finding out just about anything on Oliver Jonas Queen that is available. An easy feat to do. She didn’t think his life was as so glamourous as it is. Blown away that she had to physically pull herself away from the computer after all she did get up to have a cry when she thought he was in a solid relationship. No doubt to be married and she was that last fling.

“So… you gave me a background check at least you’ve read up on me. There are some things you know about.” She nods. Oliver isn’t going to sugarcoat it, “What do you want to know? That I’ve been kicked out of one school for sexual misconduct? The other one for… I can’t remember but I was told I was high as a kite.” He looks to see her reaction observing that she doesn’t budge so he continues, “You know about me peeing on a cop, or the fact I got a minor pregnant. There is a long list of shit I’ve done wrong. That I should tell you to keep away from me because I’m bad news.”

“Okay fine you’ve done all that.”

“You know about Harvard?” Her nod has him asking, “But what set you off were the news clippings?”

“Yes! Oliver, that shit is relevant to me. You being a dirty scoundrel player would have been relevant before I had our baby. That news is over and done with.”

“Maybe you’re too young…”

“Don’t you dare? I may be seventeen but I’ve gotten into some stupid shit too.”

“Really?” he doubts she has anything.

“I believed in hacktivism. I created a program that Cooper stole and tried to sell. The FBI got involved with some other government agencies.”

“What does that mean?”

“Basically, I’m under surveillance.”

Oliver scanning the area from his spot in the car.

“I mean they keep tabs on my internet or computer habits. I’ve been too busy with our son to care.”

“So, our son has been in danger?”

“Oliver, you have to believe me. I stopped all this craziness once I decided I was going to be a full-time mom.”

Her hand goes to his face and he automatically lowers himself into her palm. Their eyes meet and he whines that he didn’t get to kiss her yet.

“My poor baby.” Finding out whom your baby daddy is, seeing all the baggage he brings should have her keeping her in a rigid form but when they are alone like this, she’s putty. He hasn’t done anything to warrant her anger. Though she is now asking for inclusion. He reaches out to her and their lips meet. He lets out a sigh as his forehead remains against hers.

He really doesn’t know much about her and that little bit of information will be scrutinized later. He knows he is a screw up, but she has had a diversion that could have jeopardized their son. All-in-all there is a lot to talk about but he’s at least comfortable in sharing this with her.

“I’ve had a rough day.”

“Being a daddy is rough?”

He smiles. “Our son has been perfect even when grouchy.” He takes this opportunity to kiss her again because what he’s going to say next will most likely upset her.

She’s giving him little chaste kisses. They’re forgetting why they stopped a few blocks from his place. Felicity is so relieved he isn’t engaged to that attractive girl she saw online. That when he pulls away from her. Felicity is the one to let a small whimper it’s the cutest thing he thinks as she pouts.

“I need to tell you my ex-girlfriend is in town.”

“Any specific one?”

He rolls his eyes at that and points to the crumbled sheet under her feet.

“Oh. Laurel perfect Lance, she’s so…”

“Not perfect.”

“Wait does she have anything to do with this paparazzo?” He nods but affirms their son is safe. “Oliver what am I facing? God how can I compete? Your parents are going to hate me. Will they like our son?”

“Hey, hey.” He says softly “Calm down.” He kisses her gently. “They’ll love our boy.” Her eyes try to read his for any lies. “I just met him and I love him and I’m crazy about his mom too.”

“Oliver?” she wants to say more but he hushes her. “We can really talk about this later. We are parked in a car when you could be holding our son. In all honesty may his name be Kyle, Robbie, or another undecided first name to be I know he is hungry again. That boy is a monster eater.” That makes her grin. “No really, all that pumping this morning and I left Tommy an ounce of milk… and oh by the way… he thinks its formula so don’t tell him otherwise.”

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Oliver’s phone goes off. Tommy’s is calling. The Bluetooth connects Tommy to his car’s speakers. Both Oliver and Felicity exchange words to Tommy.

“Hey what’s up…”

Felicity happy to ask about her boy, “How’s my baby? Is he…”

“Guys, Kyle is fine. But…”

The pause is a killer. Leaving the occupants in the car startled.

“But?” Felicity and Oliver say in unison.

“Oliver, your parents are here.”

Preppy Gothic Love redo... (will be posting over) chapter 9 in A03.

Once the whole story is rewritten.

#preppy gothic love #olicity #arrow #felicity smoak #oliver queen

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discotreque · 4 years ago

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LwD 1.10, “No Small Parts”

Well, that was the most fun I've had watching Star Trek in literally a quarter of a century.

I had high hopes for this series. I love TAS, largely because of its wacky outsized concepts that could only have worked in animation—not that they all did work, but the potential was so apparent to me, even as a kid reading the Alan Dean Foster novelizations—and as an adult, there's something about the imagination of Lower Decks's FX setpieces that transcends even the glorious CGI bonanzas of Discovery.

Pause for a confession. I've long pushed back against criticism of serialization in new Trek. That's just how TV is now, okay? Might as well complain about it being in widescreen. But I'm backing down a little, because I've realized there is something about Star Trek that's inextricable from at least a partially-episodic format. And while Picard was telling a different kind of story, I can't deny that my favourite episodes of Disco have been the ones with a mostly self-contained A-plot. After 10 delightfully episodic instalments of LwD, its focus on long-term development of characters instead of a season-spanning puzzle-plot (okay, mostly just Mariner, but we only have 10 × 22 minutes and she is the star) has been downright refreshing.

So here we are, at the end of the most consistent and well-executed Season 1 of a Star Trek series since, arguably, Those Old Scientists. And sure, if they'd had to produce another... yikes, 42 episodes? Then sure, they probably would have dropped a clunker or two—but they didn't, and winning on a technicality is still winning. I'm practically vibrating with excitement for Disco to come back next week, but damn, I'm going to miss this little show while it's on hiatus.

Spoilers below:

Something I've been keeping track of finally paid off this week! (Which never happens to me, lol.) The destruction of the USS Solvang marked the first present-day death(s) of any Starfleet officer on Lower Decks, the only other on-screen killing at all being a flashback in "Cupid's Errant Arrow". Which makes sense, being (a) a comedy, and (b) about typically "expendable" characters: it hasn't been afraid to flirt with a little darkness here and there, but killing people off at Star Trek's usual pace wouldn't just be wrong for the tone, it would be downright bizarre.

But... people die on Star Trek. That's one of the core themes of the show, really: space is full of knowledge and beauty, but also danger and terror, and believing that the former is worth the risk of the latter is (according to Trek) one of humanity's most noble traits. I'm the least bloodthirsty TV watcher I know, but the longer we went with a body count of nil—ships completely evacuated before they were destroyed, main characters hilariously maimed without permanent consequences, etc.—well, I didn't mind per se, but the absence of truly deadly stakes was definitely getting conspicuous.

Turns out they were saving it up for maximum impact. And holy fuck, I've never felt such a pit in my stomach watching a ship get destroyed that wasn't named Enterprise. It felt grim and brutal and somehow both much too quick and dreadfully inevitable—and yeah, it looked extremely fucking cool—and I'd like every other Star Trek property for the rest of time to take notes under a large bold heading labeled RESTRAINT.

Comedy doesn't need to do this, but my favourite comedy does, and in a way that few other art forms can even approach: lower my emotional defences by making me laugh, endear character(s) to me with goofy-but-relatable antics—then BAM, sucker-punch me in the motherfucking feels. M*A*S*H is probably the classic example on TV, Futurama was notorious for it, and even Archer has pulled it off a few times; it's also a staple of some of my favourite standup. I wasn't sure if Lower Decks was going to go there in Season 1—and wasn't sure if they'd earn it—but I knew if they did, that they'd nail it, and damn. Feels good to be right.

Last batch of notes for the season!!! I rambled enough already, so let's do it liveblog-style:

I fucking KNEW they were going to use "archive" visuals from TAS at some point, I KNEW IT :D

"THOSE OLD SCIENTISTS" ahahahahahahahahahahahaha

I like chill and confident Boimler a lot? You can really see—

oh bRADWARD NOOOOO

That opening shot of the Solvang tracking down to the red giant was extremely Discovery-esque... minus the motion sickness, that is

A lady captain AND a lady first officer? That's—oh hey, it's Captain Dayton's brand-new ship. Hahaha, that means they're totally fucked, right?.

Yep! They sure a—umm, wh—shit, okay, but—oh no—no, you can't—wait DON'T

...fuck

FUCK.

Narrator: "And then Amy needed a five-hour break."

[live-action Star Trek showrunner voice] "Gee, Mike! Why does CBS let you have two cold opens?"

Okay, yes, the bit with Rutherford cycling through all the different attitudes in his implant was transparently an excuse for Eugene Cardero to vamp while waiting for something to do in the story, but as far as I'm concerned they can contrive a reason for him to do a bunch of different silly Rutherfords in a row any time they damn well want, because that was classic!!!

EXOCOMP EXOCOMP EXOCOMP EXOCOMP

AND THE EXOCOMP IS PAINTED LIKE THE EXOCOMP IS WEARING A LITTLE EXOCOMP-SIZED STARFLEET UNIFORM

EXOCOMP!!!!!

The slow burn and now the payoff of the Mariner-is-Freeman's-secret-daughter plot has been executed so well. I'm beyond impressed with this writer's room, y'all—they are threading a hell of a needle here

"Wolf 359 was an inside job" would have been a spit-take if I'd had anything in my mouth

...how many memos do you think Starfleet Command has had to issue asking people to stop calling the USS Sacramento "the Sac"?

CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW THEY'VE DECORATED THE SHUTTLECRAFT SEQUOIA THOUGH

Is, uh, is it weird if I'm starting to ship Tendi and Peanut Hamper a little? It is weird, isn't it. I knew it was weird...

Coital barbs??? I take back everything I said about wanting to know more about Shaxs/T'Ana.

The "good officer" version of Mariner is... kind of hot, tbh! But Tawny Newsome has done such a great job of building this character all season that her voice getting uncharacteristically clipped and martial and "sir! yes, sir!" is also deeply, deeply weird

Ah, so this is literally exactly like when TNG (and DS9) would bring in, and then blow up, a never-before-seen Galaxy-class ship, just to underscore that we're facing a real threat this week, baby. And hey, it fucking worked—my heart was in my throat, omg, for the reveal of the—

PAKLEDS?????????

The fucking PAKLEDS have been gluing weapons to their ships for the last 15 years. GREAT.

(We interrupt the SHIP BEING SLICED INTO SCRAP for an interesting bit of world-building: on Earth, the traditional First Contact Day meal is salmon!)

"I need a dangerous, half-baked solution that breaks Starfleet codes and totally pisses me off! That's an order." I'm starting to think Captain Freeman might actually be overqualified for the Cerritos, y'all—she's REALLY awesome

OH SHIT IT'S BADGEY, this is a TERRIBLE IDEA

"How much contraband have you hidden on my ship?" "I don't know! A lot!"

Awwww, Boims!!!

AHAHAHAHAHAHA, FUCK THIS, PEANUT HAMPER OUT

BADGEY NOOOOO

AUGHHHHH WHAT THE CHRIST DID HE JUST—BUT—RUTHERFORD'S IMPLANT????

RUTHERFORD!!!!!!!!!!

SHAXS!!!!!!

F U C K ! ! ! ! !

ahaIOPugdfhagntpgjrq90e5mgu90qe5;oigoqgw4ouegrw5SP;IAEHURVa IT’S THE TITAN???????????

IT'S CAPTAIN WILLIAM T. RIKER ON THE MOTHERFUCKING TITAN??????????

i'm screaming I'M SCREAMINGGGGGGTGGGTGQER;LBHAOIBVNV;OAPBIJNVagr;h;oagruipuwtnaetbaetgq35ghqet

I'M SO GLAD THIS WASN'T SPOILED FOR ME WTF

I AM WEEPING LIKE A CHILD

...

(Just a brief 20-minute pause this time)

And oh wow, seeing Will and Deanna hits different after Picard too, in a few different ways, which I may even get into later now that my heartrate is back to normal, lmao

Oh, I am always here for some jokes at the expense of the Sovereign class. The Enterprise-E sucked. They should have built a new bigger model of the D and new Galaxy-class interiors for the TNG movies, and I will die on that hill

OKAY, FINE, YOU GOT ME, RUTHERFORD × TENDI WOULD BE ADORABLE AND THIS IS ACTUALLY A PRETTY GOOD SETUP FOR IT

Awwww, Shaxs though :( Congrats on the single most badass death in Star Trek history, dude. The Prophets would—well, the actual Prophets would probably be slightly confused about most of it, but Kira Nerys would be proud of you and I feel like that probably counts for more. RIP, Papa Bear

I am here all damn DAY for the Mariner–Riker parallels, ahahahahaha

Pausing it to record my prediction that Boimler's commitment to not caring about rank anymore is going to last 3... 2...

Yep.

Bradward, how DARE YOU.

"Those guys had a long road, getting from there to here." OH FOR THE LOVE OF—

What a brilliant way to resolve and renew the various character arcs and relationships moving into Season 2! The writers could easily have brought everything back to status quo—chaotic Mariner fighting with her mom and being a bad influence on Boimler, etc.—and done another 10 just like these, but I suspect that wouldn't have been ambitious enough for these writers. What a blast. I cannot wait for more.

Thanks for following along, friends! Stay tuned for my (similarly patchy and amateur) coverage of Discovery, starting next week!

#star trek #star trek lower decks #lwd spoilers #lower decks spoilers #lower decks #amy's episode notes

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himbowelsh · 4 years ago

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Drunk BOB guys??? Who are the softie hug-loving cuddlers and who are the loud and obnoxious ones? The ones who break out of their shell when intoxicated? The unusually quiet ones? The ones who throw it tf back when Usher comes on? I'd love to hear some thots

oooooh my god okay okay, here are the biggest thots

Richard Winters: Umm, alcohol whom? Has never been drunk in his life and doesn’t intend to start now. He gets all the buzz he needs off the exhilaration of a brisk jog, or a cool glass of water.

Lewis Nixon: The Literal Alcoholic. Thinks he’s more fun when he’s drunk than when he’s sober; is actually not a very fun drunk. Is even worse when he’s sobering up! At this point, he has to have some liquor in his system 99% of the time, otherwise his body feels like it’s out to destroy itself. (Alcoholism is a disease, boys and girls.) Nix buzzed is Nix at peak performance; he’s friendly, efficient, and capable. Nix drunk is a slowly spiralling plane crash. He usually passes out before he hits the ground, but god forbid he gets there, because... it’s messy. He can occasionally be a messy, emotional, overdramatic drunk, but only when he’s really overdone it.

Carwood Lipton: The Respectable Drunk. A very calm, kind of sleepy drunk. Doesn’t get drunk often, even though he holds his liquor well, because he doesn’t prefer it --- when he’s had a few, he prefers to just watch the people around him, smiling and only half paying attention. His mind tends to wander when he’s drunk. Drunk Lip does have one fatal weakness: if he’s out with his partner, and his partner shows even the slightest bit of encouragement, Lip will get riled up very quickly. He goes from calm drunk to horny drunk in a very short time; will eagerly press his partner up against the wall if given the chance. (Drunk Lip is way more inclined to PDA.)

Ron Speirs: The Soft Drunk. Literally, he’s such a tender drunk; he has absolutely no balance, and is a little confused, but he’s sweet, okay? Ron is far more expressive when he’s drunk; he gets touchier, ramblier, kinder. Drunk Ron has faith in humanity where Sober Ron gave up long ago. He’s a really relaxed drunk, unlikely to go off and do anything wild, but he wants to be around other people --- around his friends. Ron never has a good time when he drinks alone. (Plus, he’s got a reputation to uphold, and only certain people are allowed to see him with his guards down.)

Harry Welsh: The Bionic Drunk. Nothing can injure him; nothing can kill him. Many things have tried. Harry has done so much dumb shit when intoxicated, things that would have wounded him in a heartbeat if he was sober, and has never gotten a scratch to show for it. He’s a very fun drunk --- he laughs a lot, is very affectionate, and super pleasant to be around --- but common sense and self-preservation goes out the window. Look out, because he might too, if someone dared him.

Eugene Roe: The Changeling Drunk. Who is this man and what did he do with Doc Roe? Drunk Gene is... an experience, alright? His inhibitions are gone. Suddenly, his personality has been turned up to eleven; he’s extroverted, he’s exciting, he laughs loudly and jokes around... he’s dancing on top of the bar, holy shit. Is a very fun time, but you have to keep an eye on him, because he sometimes goes off and does something insane, a-la-Sober-Speirs. Drunk Gene fears nothing, including himself.

Joe Toye: The Depressed Drunk. Zoinks, Scoob. Drunk Joe is actually willing to talk about his emotions --- and maybe he shouldn’t, because he’s got some sad stuff going on there, man. Drinking is supposed to numb your worries, but Joe often finds the opposite is the case; his burdens somehow get heavier, harder to ignore, and if he’s allowed to slip into them he’ll end up dwelling in them for the rest of the night. So long as he’s around buddies who are actively keeping his spirits up, he’s a decent drunk guy to have around. If neglected, however, Drunk Joe may shed a few tears into his Guinness.

George Luz: The Showman Drunk. His jokes and impressions get way sloppier, but somehow he’s twice as hilarious, so he can get away with it. Drunk George is way more animated, with a seemingly endless supply of energy; he teases everybody, he laughs the loudest in the room, and he really seems like he’s just come out to have a good time. The kind of buddy you want to get drunk with. (Be warned: comes with a rarely activated Depressed Drunk mode, when he shuts off and wants to be left the hell alone. Maybe his battery runs out after a while or something. During this time, George is feeling a lot of things very strongly; this condition is best treated with a cozy blanket and glass of water. Very rare, but once you’ve seen him in this state, you can never unsee it.)

Bill Guarnere: The Loud Drunk. Is there a difference between sober Bill and drunk Bill? Debateable. Drunk Bill is just Bill turned up to eleven. He doesn’t actually get drunk a lot --- somehow he ends up the designated driver, and minds less than he should --- but social drinking usually leads to Bill shouting over a crowded bar. He’s usually up for a good time, he just has no volume control. (Also, the accent. It thickens. Can someone translate, please? Is he speaking English? What the hell is he saying?)

Babe Heffron: The Weird Drunk. Drunk Babe will break it down on the dance floor (should he? maybe not) and do his president rooster impression in public, but he’s equally likely to just... confuse everybody else. He’s got a lot of thoughts. A lot of feelings. Some of them are about the meaning of life, some of them are about the best kind of sandwich bread, some of them are about whether the Loch Ness Monster has a favorite type of bird. He talks so much when he’s drunk, and will ramble anyone’s ear off about any of these topics. Escape while you can.

Joseph Liebgott: The Volatile Drunk. Really a mixed bag; you never know what you’re going to get from him. Sometimes, Joe can be a very fun drunk, the life of the party, willing to do anything anybody dares him to. That’s if he’s drinking in a good mood. If he starts drinking in a sour mood, it’ll only get worse from there. Honestly, he can be a mean drunk. He lashes out at people, gets angry, sometimes starts crying... it’s not great. You have to keep tabs on him while he’s drinking, because if his mood looks like it’s dipping, he should not be allowed any more alcohol.

David Kenyon Webster: The Emotional Drunk. He’s just... got a lot of feelings! And he really wants to talk about them! Becomes extremely talkative while drunk; this is not always a good thing, because he’s pronouncedly less eloquent. Drunk Web is very passionate about politics... and the environment... and marine biology... and the commercialization of public holidays. He has something to say about most things. Sometimes he’s just muttering to himself, and no one can keep up with what he’s saying. Makes so many notes, either in his phone or scribbling them down on napkins, because he’s “going to need to remember this”, but they’re all illegible come morning. Feels things very strongly. Might cry.

Johnny Martin: The Feral Drunk. Wrangling Johnny when he’s had a few too many is an experience. Holy shit, this man knows no fear. Drunk Johnny has 5x less patience for everyone’s bullshit, and wants them to know it. The amount of bar fights this man has gotten into... the best part is, he’s never lost. (Yeah, because he has Bull right there to make sure his drunk friend doesn’t get himself killed.)

Frank Perconte: The Confused Drunk. Only kind of knows where he is. Complains a lot; puts things down, misplaces them, and blames someone else for taking them. Drunk Perco has a ‘Real Housewives at Brunch’ mode, only activated when someone gives him tequila; he will scream and throw drinks. Otherwise he’s just kind of tiresome and needs someone to make sure he makes it home okay.

Floyd Talbert: The Mom Drunk. Yes, he did just do four shots of gin, but he’s still going to make sure everyone else is drinking water and not wandering off with anyone creepy. Drunk Floyd’s got an eye on everyone; he’s kind of the mama hen wrangling all her chicks, making sure they don’t stray far. He parties like a frat boy, but will wrangle everyone like a girl scout mother.

Shifty Powers: The Missing Drunk. What the hell? What happened, where did he go? He was sitting right there a second ago --- when he’s drunk, Shifty tends to wander. He just likes the quiet. His friends will always find him in bizarre places, after a few minutes of panicked searching. Once, he was laying on top of a car; once he was on the club’s roof. He’s fine, he knows where he is, he’s just thinking about stuff.

Donald Malarkey: The Absurdly Lucky Drunk. He’s got some Irish faeries looking out for him or something, because Drunk Don is literally living his best life. If he gambles, he’s going to win. If he misplaces his wallet, he’s going to find it with an extra $30 inside. If he trips, he’s going to land in an attractive person’s lap. Everyone wants to be in proximity to Drunk Don, not only because he’s a pretty good (if emotional) time, but because some of his luck might rub off.

Skip Muck: The Giggly Drunk. What’s so funny? No one knows. Skip might not even know, but he’s going to laugh anyways, because everything is hilarious. He somehow tells even better jokes when drunk, but he laughs at them himself, so that measures it out. He effortlessly makes himself the life of the party; Skip will get up and karaoke with the band, cheer all his friends on in their dumb shit, drink way more than he reasonably should... going out drinking with Skip is always a great time.

Herbert Sobel: The Alarmingly Fun Drunk. No, I’m not going to elaborate. Fill in the mental images yourself.

#winters and i say teetotaler rights #headcanons #band of brothers #hbo war

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hanawrites404 · 4 years ago

Text

Twice My Age

Show : Jojo's Bizarre Adventure/Jojo No Kimou Na Bouken

Pairing : Noriko (female Noriaki)/Jotaro Kujo

Warnings : Age-gap romance and sex along with swearing.

Characters : Jotaro Kujo, Noriko (female Noriaki), Jolyne Cujoh

Timeline : Pre-Stone Ocean

This story is based on this song :

This story is also based on the author's headcanon when she had finished reading Stone Ocean and was recovering her brain cells.

Third Person POV

It was a normal afternoon at Florida. Today was Friday, which meant the last day of the working week. Students at the school were frustratingly tapping the heels of their feet on the floor waiting for the school bell to ring and mark the end of the tiring session.

The teacher obviously minded his own business and lectured the pupils without averting his gaze from the blackboard. He kept ignoring the sounds of whispers and paper-tearing and snickers of the children, until for once he recognised one of the students who was continuously talking in his class, and decided to take some action.

"Ms. Cujoh" the teacher called out harshly as he teared his gaze from the blackboard and stared at the student.

The talkative student looked at the teacher and went silent. She had a piece of folded paper in her hand, her arm stretched out to the student for whom it was meant for. She retrieved her hand back and answered the teacher who was glaring lasers at her through his glasses.

"Yes Mr. Anderson??". "First, please stand up while you speak to a teacher" Mr. Anderson pushed his glasses up. The student sighed and stood up, putting away the paper she had in her pocket.

"Would you please answer the question which is on the board??". Ms. Cujoh read the question. She then rolled her eyes and read the question the teacher had written in white.

Prove that Cos2x = Cos^2x - Sin^2x

"What the??" The teenager reacted.

Mr. Anderson's gaze never left Ms. Cujoh. He was observing every move of her of how she was looking around the classroom, silently asking for help and her friends were giving her a shrug or a thumbs-down.

"Ms. Cujoh. We don't have all day"

After that, she knew that she would have to answer the question by herself.

"I-It's simple Mr. Anderson. Multiply both the sides by zero, and there you go. LHS = RHS".

The students roared with laughter at the teenager's statement. Mr. Anderson was actually expecting such kind of an answer from the rowdy teenager.

"Silence everyone" the teacher stomped his ruler on the table and the room became quiet. But it didn't last for long as the bell finally rung, meaning that it was time for dispersal.

The students quickly packed their bags by shoving their books and stationery inside and exited the classroom, scrambling on their feet. The whole classroom became empty, leaving the astute teenager and the stoic teacher alone.

The silence in the room grew kind of tense. So the girl started to pack her bag and leave the class. Until.......

"Jolyne". The teenager looked at the teacher. She really wanted to leave the vacated classroom and go home. Also she had successfully survived today's class. Now what was the problem??

"Your behaviour is getting worse day by day. And I'm afraid that you might need some extra tutelage for your discipline and your academics yet again".

The teenager rolled her eyes once again. She then placed one of her hands on her hip and looked at the teacher with disinterest.

"Give me a break Mr. Anderson. My answer was correct". "You can argue with the ones who will correct your answer sheet Ms. Cujoh. I'm definitely not the right person to go against with your illogical statement".

Jolyne held her fist tightly. She really wants to punch her teacher square in the face and make sure to get the glass shards of his glasses cut his eyes. But she decided to bottle her anger for now.

"Your discipline is very concerning. Also you are not taking your studies seriously. Even the previous teachers whom I had appointed to improve your etiquettes returned home with a broken nose and teeth" he said to himself.

Jolyne smirked to herself with pride.

"So I have decided to change my plans" he spoke.

"Ha!! So you finally understand, Mr. Anderson" she then crosses her arms and sits on the table while putting her leg on the other. "You will never be able to transform me into nerds like you want to. I'm what I want to be and I don't give a fuck to anyone who wants me to change".

"We will see about that" he then pushes his glasses. "Huh??" Jolyne raises her eyebrow at him. What was this thick-skulled teacher really planning to do to her??

"If it's another teacher, then do keep some extra bandages for the injuries, because I'll not go easy on them" she then cracks her knuckles.

"Now that's where I stop you Ms. Cujoh".

Jolyne then glared at the teacher.

"I'm not going to appoint a teacher to straighten you up. This time, it's a student of your age. Your own classmate".

Jolyne was slightly taken aback. A student?? Of her age?? And the student of her own classroom?? But she barely knew anyone who was good at both discipline and studies. The only persons she was aware of were mostly the divas, the jocks and the bullies.

"W-Who is this student you are talking about??" Jolyne asked. "You will meet her outside the school premises. She is actually one of my best students and has been topping her class for the past 3 years" Jolyne witnessed a sense of pride in Mr. Anderson's tone.

Jolyne became a bit nervous. Who was this nerd whom she hadn't even notice that she was in her school and her class?? And also, a girl??!!

"You might be wondering--'why a girl??' It's because I really want you to get along with her and learn whatever she teaches, and her being the same gender as you would be a good boost".

Jolyne then sniggered and got up from the table. "Just because she is a girl and is of my age, doesn't mean that I can't afford a bruise or two on her".

"I had already warned her about your..........tendency and she is perfectly fine with it. So do whatever you want to do to her, she will be alright with it as she was the one who chose to take the risk and tutor you".

What a daring one for a nerd......Jolyne thought.

Mr. Anderson then looked at his wrist watch. He then spoke "It's getting late. You may leave now".

"Oh thank you, Mr. Anderson" she said in a very sarcastic manner and she even bowed to add to her mockery as she left the class.

"And another thing Ms. Cujoh". Jolyne then looked behind at her teacher lethargically. Can the teacher just leave her already before she actually punches him??

"If you hadn't been the daughter of Dr. Kujo, I would have already expelled you. But I'm still giving you a chance because I'm sure that you too can be as disciplinary as your father".

"Alright first of all, Dad was a delinquent when he was my age. And second of all, he would have already punched your face and shove your stupid glasses into your mouth just to make you shut up if he was at my place" and she then goes away without saying anything else or looking back.

Mr. Anderson sighed as he stacked the sheets and registers he had to take home and correct. After he was done, he looked at the empty classroom once more, especially at the seat where the spiteful teenager sat.

"Hopefully you know what you are doing, Noriko.........."

*One minute time skip, brought to you by Binod*

"Stupid Anderson, he just doesn't know how to mind his own fucking business!!!!" Jolyne angrily stomped out of the premises. She then turned around to look at the clock which was installed on the school building.

It's 5 already. I need to return home fast. Dad is coming home earlier than his usual time so I better reach home before him..........

"Umm....Jolyne Cujoh??".

"What?!!" She turned to the voice. Jolyne relaxed her eyes a bit when she saw who was the owner of the voice.

It was a girl wearing the same uniform as her. The only difference was that she was comparatively shorter than Jolyne and was fairer than her.

She had her red hair down which was a bit longer than shoulder length and purple eyes, one red wavy bang was framing her pretty face and her lips were a glossy, cherry red.

"Do I know you??" Jolyne raised her eyebrow at the unknown girl.

"Not yet, but you will. My name is Noriko. I'm the one who is supposed to mentor you" she then goes closer to her and offers her hand to shake. "It would be a pleasure to get to know you better".

Jolyne observed the girl's hand. She had her nails perfectly trimmed but there was no polish on them. Jolyne then looked at her face and asked.

"Japanese??" She asked. "Yeah" Noriko replied. Jolyne then smirks and shakes her hand firmly.

"Then we will get along pretty well" she said. Noriko then smiles and brushes her bang behind her ear with the other hand. "I'm glad you think so" she replied.

Both of the girls let go of their hands and then they walk home beside each other.

"By the way, why did you say that we will get along well, judging by my nationality??" Noriko asked the taller girl.

"You see, I'm a Japanese myself".

"You are??" Noriko asked, a bit surprised.

"Yeah. I know. I may not look like that but yes, Japanese is one of my nationality" Jolyne replied.

Noriko then snickered and asked "Just how many nationalities do you have??". "Well, my mother is from Florida and my father is Japanese, Italian and British" Jolyne calculated.

"Wow, so many citizenships" she commented. "Haha, it's not that cool as it sounds like. Trust me" Jolyne joked. Noriko chuckled and slapped the taller girl's shoulder lightly which made Jolyne chuckle.

"So Noriko??". "Yes??". "Why did you choose to mentor me?? You do know that I have a certain.........reputation at school".

"I am aware of everything you do in school. Mr. Anderson has updated me everything on you".

"*Ugh* That fucker. What is he, a spy?? Did he only find me to spy on?? And not the ones who actually harass girls or bully lowerclassmen behind the school??"

"Actually, I should be the one at whom you should be angry at". "Huh??" Jolyne looked at her.

"Wait, don't tell me--". "Yes. I was the one who told him to note everything you do".

"*Ugh* Noriko~!! I didn't expect this from you~" Jolyne whined. "Sorry, but this was the only way to plan on how to get you into discipline just like how Mr. Anderson want it". "Fuck that teacher!!!" She then kicks a stray rock on the road which goes very far.

"You seem to be very strong". "Heh, thanks. It's not much, but I can surely lift a heavy table pretty easily". "I'll take a note of that. It might come handy to me when I need to move a table" she chuckled. Jolyne then laughs and Noriko too joins her.

After their laughter died, Noriko spoke.

"You are really fun to be with". "Thanks. I had assumed that you were going to be just like Anderson but you are one lively person" Jolyne said.

"Oh really?? Thank you. Actually, no one has said that to me before" she then brushed another strand of her hair behind her ear.

"What do you mean??" Jolyne asked. "I don't really have friends. Only a few classmates talk to me but only when they need my assistance".

"Huh?? How is that even possible?? You are such an amazing person. Also, you are very pretty. You should have at least a boyfriend with you".

"I don't have a boyfriend". "Oh......a girlfriend perhaps??". "No.....". "Oh, you love a trans??". "What?? No. I'm not interested in anyone for now". "Ahhh....I see".

"Say, do you have a boyfriend??". "My status is also as same as you. Even I'm not really interested in getting into relationships. It will just..........get in my way, that's why". "I understand. Love is.......a very new subject for me" Noriko said.

"Yeah.....me too.....Hell, I don't even know why Dad fell for Mom in the first place just to leave her after that" Jolyne stated. "Huh?? What do you mean??" Noriko looked at Jolyne.

"My parents got a divorce after I was born. And according to the laws, both of my parents have the rights on me. So I visit one of them after every alternate month. This month I'm staying with my father" Jolyne explained.

"I see. Your father is Dr. Jotaro Kujo right??". "Yes, the famous marine biologist. The one who wrote thesis on starfish and other marine creatures. How interesting" Jolyne said, adding a dramatic sarcasm to it.

"Honestly, I'm a big fan of him" Noriko added, a light blush on her cheeks. "What?? Seriously??" Jolyne gaped.

"Yes. I have read every report and thesis he has ever written. The way how he observes and analyses the creatures is just wonderful. I bet that he is going to be the one who will discover a new species of marine life which humanity has never seen before" she spoke with amazement.

"Ha!!! You are flattering him now. My Dad is nothing like how you think of him" Jolyne argued. "Oh really??" Noriko raised her eyebrow.

"Yes. I know he is smart and all but he is not Einstein-level" Jolyne answered. "I never compared him with Einstein, Jolyne. It's just that I really think of him very fondly, and I admire him a lot" Noriko said.

"Yeah yeah, but don't fall in love with him. He might break your heart" she joked. Noriko blushed pink. It's good that Jolyne didn't notice it, otherwise it would have been very awkward.

"Well, here we are. My Dad's house" Jolyne stopped and showed Noriko her house.

"Wow, it looks very big" Noriko looked all over the lavish bungalow.

"Heh, these are the perks of being a Joestar" she said. "Joestar?? What do you mean??" Noriko asked. "You first come inside and then I'll tell you" and so Jolyne and Noriko entered the luxurious house. Both of them removed their shoes and Noriko looked around the house with an agape mouth and wide eyes.

"Wow......this looks so much better from the inside. Just how rich are you people??" Noriko commented and asked Jolyne.

"Well, there was a guy named Robert Speedwagon who was friends with my great-great-grandfather. He then became rich after finding many oil ores out of nowhere. After he died, all of his luxuries went to my great-grandfather and that's how all of our expenses are taken care of" Jolyne explained.

"That's amazing. You guys are literally royals" Noriko commented. "Yeah. And also my great-great-grandfather was a noble in England, so he was rich even before the Speedwagon guy came" she added.

"I see" Noriko then sat on one of the loveseats. "Being a Joestar must be very lucky right??" Noriko asked. "If you think like that, you are gravely mistaken" Jolyne told her.

"What?? Really?? I can't believe this. But you guys have everything!!!.............I guess everything has it's pros and cons" Noriko told herself.

Jolyne was about to speak more, but then the bell of the house rang.

"That must be Dad. You stay here Noriko. I'll be right back" and then she goes to check the door. Since Noriko had nothing to do for now, she looks at her skirt and straightens it up a bit.

Jolyne on the other hand opens the door and sees her father standing outside, just as she expected.

"Hello Dad" Jolyne greeted. "Hello Jolyne, how was school??" Dr. Kujo entered the house and Jolyne stepped away to give him some space.

"Meh, it was fine. Mr. Anderson barked at me as usual" Jolyne told him. Mr. Kujo sniggered a bit.

"He doesn't seem to stop critisizing you, does he??". "Of course not. I bet he won't even shut up even after he is an old man and cannot even lift his hand to push his oversized glasses up" she mocked.

Dr. Kujo smiled a fraction as he removed his shoes and his coat. While he was putting his shoes on the rack, he noticed another pair of school shoes which were similar to that of Jolyne's.

"Jolyne, have you brought a classmate here?" Dr. Kujo asked.

"Uhh yeah. She is actually my mentor who is supposed to tutor me, starting from today. I hope you don't mind if she stays here".

"No, not at all" The professor replied. He then hung his coat up and headed to the living room, her daughter following her.

As soon as Mr. Kujo entered the room, he spotted the red-haired girl. She looked awfully familiar to him which made the professor stop on his tracks.

"Dad, what's wrong??" Jolyne spoke from behind her father.

"Noriaki........" He whispered.

"Noriaki?? No Dad, her name is Noriko"

Jolyne corrected.

Even her name is similar to his...........

Mr. Kujo continued to stare at the red head who was scribbling something in the notepad on her lap with a pencil.

That red hair, those amethyst eyes, and how she was concentrating on her work, everything Mr. Kujo had seen already a long time before. It all felt like Deja Vu to him. And he clearly remembers the person whom this girl reminds him of. He was his highschool lover after all.

"Noriko-chan" Jolyne calls her. Noriko looks up from her notepad to her friend.

"Here is my father, who is also your 'sole idol'. And Dad, this is Noriko, my friend" Jolyne introduced them to one another.

(Part 2)

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jotakak #jotaro x kakyoin #noriaki kakyoin #jotaro kujo #jolyne cujoh #jjba genderbend #female kakyoin #Spotify #what I wrote

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theropoda · 4 years ago

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3, 4, 6-8, 11, 13-17, 19-22, 26-30 uwu

WOO LAD THAT’S A LOT THANK U!!! this got long and i wrote an essay or two LOL so im putting it under a readmore!

3: Best game you’ve ever played? WEEEELLLL.......let me preface this with two things: one, i am a FAKE GAMER as in my laptop is not at all made for gaming, it’s piss poor, so a big chunk of games i’m interested in is because i watched a playthrough of them lol. i have a 3ds but only 3 games on it (animal crossing new leaf, tomodachi life, nintedogs & cats). second, i’m very bad at choosing favorites of things.....BUUUUT .....i choooooose, in no particular order, OFF, pigeonetics, elder scrolls oblivion, pathologic classic HD!! i’m more than likely forgetting a few though, so sorry about that

4: Worst game you’ve ever played? as i said above, cannot choose favorites, neither can i choose whatever the opposite of favorites is but...uhh, does lif even count as a game? like lif, the stupid little furry flash game i remember playing on some shady website. it was surprisingly very active with a BUNCH of people there but i kept dying like every 5 seconds....AWFUL

6: A game that’s changed you the most? WELL define Changed.....ummm aha first thing that comes to mind is OFF. it’s one of those things where you never knew you wanted something so fucking bad until you saw it--and it’s like that for me. i NEVER knew i loved that odd, surreal, colorful, “looks playful and simple in some parts but incredibly violent and unnerving in other parts” aesthetic til i played it. like aesthetically i love that game to BITS and something about it just stuck with me til the end of time.

later in life (meaning, past year or so) it changed me because it taught me a lesson about storytelling and creative endeavors. a very useful lesson. which is: things don’t really need to have a meaning. stories, art, music, writing, whatnot, while it CAN be deep and meaningful, while you CAN use it as a way to communicate with the world about all kinds of heartfelt things, it can also be...nothing, really.

once i, as usual, got ridiculously overwhelmingly sad about small things. specifically seeing other people around me come up with all kinds of deep and meaningful characters and stories, sometimes putting them into webcomics or writings of theirs, and they were all so well-thought out and detailed and what i envied most was people put a lot of themselves and their experiences into them, venting and coping through them, whilst also making these larger-than-life grandiose complex stories and worlds and so on and so forth.

it made me look at my own ideas and get mad/frustrated at how shallow they were. but then i remembered OFF and i felt better because Fun Fact, mortis ghost has a now-abandoned dA account and if you go through the comment section on his profile, he answers a lot of fan questions and he mentions several times that the game didn’t really have a “meaning”, it didn’t really have a “deeper story” or moral or anything, really. i’m paraphrasing this but i vividly remember him saying “i wanted to make a game, so i did”.

that made me feel a lot better because it made me realise that sometimes art--especially stories, in my case-- doesn’t NEED to be DEEP or have MEANING...sometimes it can just BE!!!! sometimes it really can just be all about AESTHETICS like who GIVES a shit if there’s a hidden meaning if you take the first letter of all of your characters’ names and put them backwards, sometimes all that matters is if they just VIBE with you y’know....

yume nikki is similar in this regard bc that game doesn’t have any story other than “collect egg” and yet it’s so impactful. that game doesn’t have a story or meaning it just IS........ :) GOD THATS SO LONG IM SORRY ABOUT THAT but yeah. funny violent ghostbusting baseball man is a game that changed me :)

7: A game you’ll never forget? OFF AGAIN LOL,,, it’s just so memorable because of how unique it is. visuals, soundtrack, story, everything is so memorable. unforgettable. oh god you can tell how much i love this damn game can’t you

8: Best soundtrack? yakuza 0, OFF, there is a picture (another game by mortis ghost, again composed by alias conrad coldwood who also composed OFF), pigeonetics (the entire soundtrack of which is here), jojo’s bizarre adventure all star battle and eyes of heaven, silent hill 2 & 3, undertale....probably forgetting more but all of these...earcandy

11: Hardest game you’ve played? i am a shitty gamer so this is Most games i’ve played lol!! but uhh..well you see. hardest game i remember playing as of recent is pathologic classic hd in which it’s...not only hard to understand what any character is saying at any given time lol but also, i don’t think it’s HARD it’s just...you need to focus. you REALLY need to fucking focus and pay attention in this game. so i wouldn’t say its HARD, but i’m only putting this here bc it’s in recent memory.

i say recent memory because the true answer is susceptible to “yeah, but now you’re older, it must not be so hard.” as in if i played it now i think i’d have a way easier time. but when i was around....10-12 years old i had several ps3 video game adaptations of animated movies and i had SUCH a fucking hard time with them. g-force, bolt and up in particular were fucking HARD. like genuinely, the hardest time i had EVER had in my live playing video games is tied to these three fucking games. g-force and bolt ESPECIALLY. one particular level in bolt took both me AND my sister around a year to fucking finish.

again, i was baby, so i bet i’d have a much easier time with them now that i’m 17. but for now, in my experience, bolt and g-force for the ps3 were harder than pathologic classic. i think icepick lodge should take a few notes for them for pathologic 2.

13: A game you were the most excited for when it wasn’t released yet? STREETS OF KAMUROCHO...i spent the entire day of its release anticipating its launch lol

14: A game you think would be cool if it had voice acting? hmm..most games i like and know about do have voice acting so i dunno....i guess it would’ve been kind of cool if morrowind had like, full proper voice acting. but i can understand why it only voice acted things like greetings and battle insults because GOD that game is SO...complicated...and as a result, the conversations are so lengthy and text-full. playing morrowind is really like a goddamn book! if it was voice acted i’m sure all that information would have to be shortened bc i know no one is going to fucking voice act two whole paragraphs

15: Which two games do you think would make an awesome crossover? pigeonetics and yakuza in which instead of being about the criminal underworld it’s about shady and unethical pigeon clubs, breeding, racing, etc etc...a lot of illegal shit does happen in the world of pigeons especially when it comes to racing; prized racers have been kidnapped and held for ransom before. and then there’s Avian Cucking: The Sport, where people breed the sexiest pigeons (horseman thief pouters), release them outside to seduce other people’s sexy pigeons, and bring them back and keep ‘em, drama ensues. will kiryu ever escape his past as a professional pigeon-napper, and find solace in his new life as a pigeon hobbyist? find out now by playing YACOOZA......

JOKES ASIDES i don’t know i really don’t....umm, pigeonetics and animal crossing somehow?? :O... like, instead of managing your own town it’s managing your own loft!...orrrr, the jojo games (all star battle & eyes of heaven) with yakuza, because i think they’re somewhat similar because they’re both haha Wacky Silly AND serious over the top fighty-fighting.....or maybe a crossover with OFF and discover my body, which, despite being an incredibly short and obscure indie game i still love to bits for what it’s worth. WAIT ANIMAL CROSSING AND MINECRAFT THAT WOULD FUCK SO HARD OH MY GOD

16: Character you’ve hated most? From what game? i can’t think of any character i like, HATE...with a burning passion.. there are a few i dislike or have a complicated relationship with though.. i’m not interested in the series anymore but ouma from drv3...i’ll admit that he is a bit fun sometimes, especially in the very early beginning he’s a likeable brat but as the game progresses he becomes more irritating than anything and i have an issue with him in regards to writing, despite the fact that i have never been awake in any english class ever lol. it’s too long to put in this already long post but i’ll keep it at that. if you like him, well, good for you for finding joy in something i couldn’t! but he just doesn’t do it for me.

AH I JUST REMEMBERED....MINE......FROM YAKUZA 3....maybe i’d change my mind if i watched a playthrough of y3 again, because i think you always absorb something better on your second watch (tho i honestly Dont have the energy to do that all over again, the yakuza games are too fucking long), but i really hate his writing. spoilers for y3 but, i think mine’s writing, alongside other things in the game, were super messy...and a big part of why i hate him is that not only is he one of those “could’ve had great potential but fell flat” sorta guys but also his love for daigo is seen as some fans as good gay rep and i?????/.............um....WELL let’s just say that, i think people nowadays will see any gay character ever in any circumstance and say it’s good gay rep just based off the fact that A Gay Character exists....he was Not, good gay rep imo....he was not, let alone, Good. .........

17: What game do you never tell people you play? can’t think of any games i wouldn’t tell people i play.. idk exactly what this question’s asking. does it mean what game you don’t tell ppl you play bc you’re embarrassed about it...? i’m not very embarrassed by any of them. the only thing that comes close, i guess, is uhh lioden and wolvden. i’ve only interacted with those communities a LITTLE TINY WEE BIT, yet of what i’ve seen it’s a goddamn dumpster fire and i’d never want to be associated with them lol

19: Which game do you think deserves a revival? i’m well aware it’ll never happen and that it’s more a wet dream than anything but...PT/silent hills..... on a more realistic/”could happen” note, PIGEONETICS!!!! SERIOUSLY, it’s an amazing game about amazing animals and it teaches genetics in a very simplified and efficient way!! genetics is SO hard for me to understand, i fucking hated studying it but this game really helped me understand how it works AND its super engaging and interesting!! HOWEVER, of all the pigeon genes we know of, only a handful were seen in pigeonetics and i’d LOVE a sequel that employs new game mechanics AND new genes!! i wanna learn about bronze and stencil genes! i wanna learn about phenotypes like grizzled and pied!!! genes like sooty and dirty!!! @ UNIVERSITY OF UTAH GENETICS DEPARTMENT PLEASE IM BEGIGNG YOU

20: What was the first video game you ever played? earliest memories of Gaming involves me at my aunt’s house playing two games: super mario brothers and some kind of trapeze game. i don’t remember anything else though

21: How old were you when you first played a video game? i can’t remember but i must’ve been REAL tiny.... 6-9 years, maybe??

22: If you could immerse yourself in any game for one day, which game would it be? What would you do? immerse myself meaning go into their world...? huh....on one hand i’d like to go in the world of yakuza 0 to play in the arcades and do whore related activities but i’d also love to go into the world of animal crossing (and i’m pretty sure i’d be some sort of generic dromaeosaurid in that game!!) and shop, chat with villagers, do chores for them, go fishing, bug hunting, eat delicious fucking food like the apples mangos peaches cherries etc etc.....OH AND FOSSIL HUNTING THAT’S THE BEST PART!! though it would definetly be a little weird, to be a little dinosaur and finding a fossil of a...little dinosaur....i guess the non-sentient species went extinct and the dinosaur i am is some kind of, descendant of a sapient non-avian dinosaur that survived the k-pg extinction event...oh but who cares all i want is a cool little ambulocetus fossil or something. and some cherry pie :)

26: Handheld or console? my old ps3 just went kaput one day years ago so i haven’t used it in years so i can’t compare well... but i’d say handheld, because it lets me like DO stuff more...would love to get a console one day, a ps4 maybe but i’m kinda worried it’ll make me stay in one room all day wasting away my time when there’s other stuff i can do, y’know? but something handheld like my 3ds, on the other hand...i can do stuff with it. i can take it to my room and play it between breaks i take as i clean the room and fold my clothes, i can watch something on the tv and play the game during ad breaks, i can take it outside too if it has charge to last me a while! so....handheld i guess

27: Has there ever been a moment that has made you cry? yakuza 0 and undertale in particular have ALMOST made me fucking bawl with many of its moments....yakuza 0 especially, after that Fucking Ending i had trouble sleeping because oh my fucking god. video game people SAD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

28: Which character’s clothes do you wish you owned the most?

29: Which is more important, gameplay or story? HMMM....well, if i were to play a game with a shitty story but really good and fun gameplay i’d probably continue playing it for the gameplay. but if i played a game with shitty gameplay but an interesting story, there is a chance i’d play it more for the sake of the story but also i might just quite and see the rest of the story on youtube or something. i’m more likely to go through a boring story for fun gameplay than go through boring gameplay for an interesting story, so i guess gameplay is more important to me....that is, WHEN i actually own and play a game as opposed to when i just watch someone play a game because i don’t own the game but wanna know abt the story lol

30: A game that hasn’t been localized in your country that you think should be localized? i have no idea how video game localization really works....but i assume localizing a game in india would mean something like, removing content according to cultural norm and also somehow translating it into the 22 official languages..? or just two or three language if it’s tied to a particular state, which seems way more doable. i honestly have no idea? i’ve never interacted w the indian gaming community that much to be honest, all i know of it is of the video games i’ve seen sold in some game stores and a few whispers about like solid snake or whoever from my school’s cafeteria....the most popular games here, to my knowledge, are those very streamable games like fortnite and PUBG and your call of duties and whatnot. those generic shooters. and even then, that honestly isn’t the “indian” gaming community bc this country is so FUCKHUGE, it’s just tamil nadu. one state.

soooo, according to what little i know of gaming interests in where i live, i don’t think any of the games i like should be localized here bc i don’t really think there’s an audience for it as far as i can tell :( maybe animal crossing? it’s a fun little games for all ages and i think it has a chance of becoming popular here, so maybe that is worth a shot! but i can’t think of any other game that i like that really has an audience here (other than Me lol)

#asks #stommevrouw #THANK U EVIE THIS WAS SO FUNNNNNNN #WOOF haha this made me tired #im probably hitting the bed now! thank u!!

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robinrunsfiction · 5 years ago

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Happy Thanksgiving

Pairing: Dallon Weekes x Gender Neutral Reader Rating: General Requested By: None Word Count: ~1,000 Author’s Note: I didn’t want to wait another week to post this, so please enjoy! Also this story references beloved Thanksgiving TV special “A Charlie Brown Thanksgiving”. Hopefully even if you have’t seen it, you can still enjoy the story!

"Hey Dallon," you greeted your neighbor as you hurried inside to get out of the chilly late November air. "Oh, hey (YN), he smiled from his mailbox. "How's it going?" Every time he smiled at you it make your heart skip. Dallon was always so nice when you ran into him in the halls or the laundry room of your apartment building, always happily making time to talk to you. "Good, I guess. Going home for Thanksgiving?" "No, I've got work stuff on Wednesday and we have a show on Friday night. You?" "No, I thought I was being clever buying a plane ticket early to go with my ex to their parents house for Thanksgiving, but then we broke up like a month later and I can't afford to change the ticket," you said forlornly, your gaze drifting to the floor. "Oh I'm sorry," Dallon replied. When you looked up, he was looking on you with sympathetic eyes. "Its ok, I'm going home for Christmas, so that's fine," you shrugged. "I'm gonna spend the day relaxing and I'm watch the Charlie Brown Thanksgiving special. Its my favorite thing about the holiday anyway," you smiled. Dallon nodded before glancing at his watch. "Sorry, but I gotta get going. I'll talk to you later, ok?" "Yea, sure. See ya," you waved before turning to head up to your apartment. ~ You were settling in for the evening when there was an unexpected knock on the door. "Hey Dallon," you smiled when you opened the door. "Hey, I was wondering since you're alone on Thanksgiving if you want to come over for dinner that night?" "Oh! Umm sure, that sounds great!" You replied. "Can I bring anything?" "Nope, I got it all handled," Dallon smiled mischievously. "Ok then, what time?" You laughed. "Six work for you?" "Sure, I'll be there," you smiled up at him. "See ya then," he said, returning your smile. ~ You had spent most of your Thanksgiving morning texting with your friend Christine. She was at her boyfriend Frank's house for the holiday, but when you had said you needed help picking the right outfit for your dinner with 'the most gorgeous man alive' she was more than happy to help. ‘That's way too fancy!’ ‘Are you going to his place for dinner or to do laundry? Put in a little effort!’ ‘Frank says thats sexy so probably not first date material. Wait is this a date?’ Were some of the responses you received on the outfits you sent her. ‘How about this?’ You sent along with a photo of your dark red sweater and jeans. ‘Perfect mix of cute and casual, 100% approve. Frank says you look cute too’ You grinned at the response, sending back a quick thank you, and finished getting ready. Promptly at six you arrived at Dallon's door. Even though he said you didnt need to bring anything, you had made a plate of frosted sugar cookies. "Happy Thanksgiving!" He greeted you warmly. "You too! I know you said not to bring anything, but my mom would be disappointed in me if I didn't," you said offering up the cookies. Dallon smiled. "Not a problem, it will fit in with the meal nicely." You followed him into his apartment and took it in. It was the same layout as yours, but was cozier than you imagined it would be. It smelled of clean laundry and surprisingly, toast. That's when you saw the table. There was a plate full of slices of buttered toast, bowls of pretzel sticks, popcorn, and jelly beans. The scene was totally bizarre to you until it clicked. "Is this the feast from Charlie Brown Thanksgiving?" You asked in awe. To your own surprise you felt yourself getting a little choked up and hoped he wouldn't notice. Dallon laughed. "I was worried you wouldn't get it and think I was crazy." "No, this is so cool that you thought to do this," you said trying to subtly wipe at the tear threatening to spill over. You both loaded up plates with treats, leaving room for ice cream sundaes for dessert, and headed to his couch where he had the Charlie Brown special queued and ready to be watched. "Thanks again for inviting me over and doing all this for me, I mean its way more than I would have expected anyone to do for me," you said after the show finished, starting to feel choked up again. You meant it, you were not used to people being so thoughtful toward you. On top of the loneliness you had thinking you’d spend the holiday alone, you were feeling more emotional than usual. "I don't think anyone should be alone on the holidays," Dallon replied and paused. "And I've been trying to think of a way to ask if you would want to go out with me." "Really?" You couldn't believe someone as kind and beautiful as Dallon would want to ask you out, let alone be nervous to do so. "Yea, I really like you (YN)," he replied glancing down at his lap nervously. You reached out and touched his arm and he looked up at you. "I'd very much like to go out with you Dallon," you said softly. In an instant, the concern and nervousness that seemed to cloud him lifted and he smiled brightly. He lifted his hand and brushed your hair behind your ear and you reflexively leaned into the touch. His fingertips ghosted over the side of your neck and you were leaning in. His lips met yours softly, holding back at first, but then moving against yours with more assurance as he could feel you smiling. "I was wondering if you wanted to come to my show tomorrow night, maybe grab dinner, a real dinner before?" Dallon asked when you finally pulled back from the kiss. "That sounds like a wonderful idea," you smiled. He grinned back and pulled you in for another kiss.

#Dallon Weekes x reader #dallon weekes fan fic #dallon weekes fan fiction #dallon weekes fanfic #idkhow fan fic #idkhow fanfic #idkhow fan fiction #dallon weekes imagine

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bigenderpeterparker · 6 years ago

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Homecoming Out (Peter x Ned One Shot)

Ships: Peter/Ned, a tiny bit of Michelle/Liz

Word Count: 2797

Summary: Ned asks Peter to the Homecoming Dance. Peter is thrilled, he just wishes he hadn’t already asked Liz.

Notes: Fluff/Humor and PG rated. I posted this quite a while back but I deleted my blog so I’m just reposting it here.

"I was just thinking, well..." Ned said. "Maybe you'd want to come to Homecoming with me."

"What?" Peter asked. That sounded to Peter like he meant as his date, although he was fairly clueless in these matters.

"Yeah, I mean, if you'd want to," Ned said, looking a little embarrassed.

"No offense... but why?" Peter asked.

"Listen, never mind. Forget I said anything," Ned said. "It was stupid anyway."

Shit, Peter thought. That was not what he meant at all. The last thing in the world he wanted to do was make Ned feel bad. "I just meant like... as a date or like as friend or?" He clenched his hands into fists, trying to will his nervous energy.

"I don't know. Whatever," Ned said, obviously trying to play it cool.

"I mean, yeah," Peter said. "Sure, we could do that." It was bizarre. Though he had had feelings for Ned for... about his whole life, it seemed oddly anti-climatic that Ned would just ask him out like this. Nevertheless Peter's heart was racing really fast. And not just because he finally had an opportunity to be more than friends with Ned, but also because he had already asked Liz. Shit, shit, shit.

"I mean, we don't have to," Ned said. "Whatever, it's cool."

"No, we can go," Peter said. Why had he said that? Of course, he really wanted to go with Ned, but he hadn't just agreed to go with Liz, he had actively asked her out. Why had he done that? Why was he such an idiot?

"So, it's a date," Ned said tentatively.

"Yes, it's a date, totally," Peter said."I was just thinking, well..." Ned said. "Maybe you'd want to come to Homecoming with me."

"What?" Peter asked. That sounded to Peter like he meant as his date, although he was fairly clueless in these matters.

"Yeah, I mean, if you'd want to," Ned said, looking a little embarrassed.

"No offense... but why?" Peter asked.

"Listen, never mind. Forget I said anything," Ned said. "It was stupid anyway."

"I don't know. Whatever," Ned said, obviously trying to play it cool.

"I mean, we don't have to," Ned said. "Whatever, you know."

"So, it's a date," Ned said tentatively.

"Yes, it's a date, totally," Peter said.

Aunt May opened the door. "Everything okay in here?" She had been suspicious lately because Peter had been going out at all hours for Spider-Man related matters.

"Yeah, everything's okay. Totally. Why wouldn't it be okay?" Peter said. The more nervous he got, usually that meant the more he talked.

"Because you're being weird," Aunt May said. "But I won't ask. Teenage boys, who gets them?"

"Oh, he's just embarrassed because I just asked him to Homecoming," Ned said.

"Yes, thank you Ned. I really wanted to come out of the closet that casually," Peter said.

"Oh, sorry, I mean... We all knew Peter," Ned said.

"Yeah, like literally we all knew," May said. "Even Tony Stark knows."

"Even Tony Stark?" Peter said. Oh, man. He wondered what Tony thought. Would it be weird? No, Tony wouldn't care. "Like everyone knows?"

"I mean, people just kind of assumed," Ned said.

"Why? How did everyone know when I never told anyone? Anyone but..." Oh. "I told Michelle," he said, putting the pieces together.

"I honestly thought you were like, out or something," Ned said.

"Well, I guess I am now, whether I like it or not," Peter said.

"People were going to find out when we went to Homecoming together," Ned pointed out. He seemed kind of hurt.

"Yeah, I just... I thought it would have been cooler if we just showed up together and like maybe danced or made out or something," Peter said.

"I don't want to hear this," Aunt May said, throwing her hands up and leaving Peter's room. "Keep the door open!"

May was driving Peter and Ned to Homecoming. Liz had said she would meet Peter there. Peter was an idiot and didn't tell either Ned or Liz about what had happened. His hands were sweating and he was visibly nervous. Ned held his hand. That only made Peter more nervous.

"Okay, kids. Have fun and stay safe," May said.

"Stay safe? What does that mean?" Peter asked.

"I don't know, Peter. It's just an expression. I'm sure you're not going to get into any trouble at a high school dance," she said.

"Yeah, sure. I'm not going to get in any trouble," Peter said, lying through his teeth. He was totally one hundred percent screwed.

"Ned, I love your hat," May said.

"Thanks, it makes me feel more confident," Ned said.

"You rock that hat," May said.

Peter thought the hat was a little weird, but he said, "It's a good hat."

Peter let go of Ned's hand, pretending it was so he could get out of the car and not so that no one would see them. There was absolutely no way this was going to work out. He was going to have to tell Ned... No, he was going to have to tell Liz. He was going to have to do something. Maybe he should ask Michelle for help. As annoying as she was, she was generally helpful with just about everything. That had been part of why she had been the first person he had came out to. Of course, she had immediately told everyone and he couldn't trust her, but other than that she was a good option. If she would even come to something as stupid as a school dance.

"So, like what do people do at dances?" Ned asked.

"Umm..." Peter said. "Dance? Drink punch? Hang out with their friends?" That could work. Maybe if the three of them hung out as a unit no one would get suspicious. It could work, right?

"Let's get some punch," Ned said. "Do you think it's spiked?"

"Who would spike the punch at a high school dance?" Peter said naively. They got some punch and Peter sipped his nervously. Ned drank a whole red solo cup at once.

Peter spotted Liz with Michelle. So she was here. Maybe just in some elaborate ploy to humiliate him? It didn't matter, he had that covered all on his own. Michelle looked really nice, wearing an orange dress that looked like it belonged on someone else. Of course, Liz was dressed to the nines. And Peter hadn't even brought her a corsage. Shit.

Liz and Michelle waved at them. Peter waved tentatively. This could be okay. If no one knew Ned liked guys, it wouldn't even be weird that they were hanging out together. They always hung out together, right? Ned waved at the girls happily. He still had no clue what was going on.

"Should we go talk to them?" Peter asked.

"Sure," Ned said.

They walked over to the girls and Liz hugged Peter. "You look great," she said.

"Thanks, so do you," Peter said. Oh, God. He didn't know proper dating protocol straight or gay and he was supposed to be doing both in one night.

Liz pulled away from the hug. "You look great, too, Ned. I like the hat."

Ned smiled proudly. He looked like he was having a great time. Peter's heart hurt. Why had he lied to Ned? "Hey, listen. Liz I'll see you in a minute, I uh... just have to go talk to Ned for a minute. Over there. In private."

He had to tell Ned what was going on, even if it hurt. Even if it broke them up before they were even really together. He couldn't lie anymore. He wasn't good at lying or keeping secrets. Ned already knew he was Spider-Man. It seemed like Peter couldn't keep anything from him.

"Okay, what did you want to talk about?" Ned asked.

"Okay, there's something I really should have told you before I agreed to go to the dance with you," Peter said.

"Oh, I see," Ned said. "Is it the hat? I'll take it off if you want."

"No, it's not the hat. I like the hat, really," Peter said. If Ned liked it, so did he. "It's just..."

"You're not ready to come out?" Ned asked.

"Well..." Peter said. That was sort of what he had been thinking? Kind of? "It's not that it's..."

"Oh my God, Peter it's my favourite song, come dance with me!" Liz said, grabbing him.

"I uh... I'll get back to you on that one," Peter said to Ned, allowing Liz to pull him away. Not necessarily because he wanted to dance with Liz but it was an opportune moment to chicken out of the conversation with Ned. He didn't want to hurt her feelings either, but it would be worse for him to hurt Ned. Ned... he loved. Like... loved loved.

It wasn't a slow song, which was partly good because he didn't have to slow dance with Liz while Ned watched. However, Peter had no clue how to do anything other than slow dance, and this was some sort of hip hop song. "Come on, just move your hips!" Liz said. And then she was touching his hips and Peter was panicking.

"Liz, there's something I should really tell you," Peter started. It was going to be a really long night. He wondered if Ned was mad at him who Ned would get a ride home with. Would Peter have to get May to pick him up early because he had royally screwed up everything?

"It's okay, Peter, really," Liz said. The music was booming and it was hard to hear. "You don't need to explain. I understand," Liz said.

"See the thing is, I don't think you do understand..." Peter said. The song finished.

"Why don't you go hang out with Ned?" Liz asked. "I'm going to hang out with Michelle for a bit."

"Really?" Peter said. Why would she say that? "That actually sounds like a really great idea." Maybe he didn't have to tell Liz just yet. Ned first, Liz after. And if things blew up in his face... Well that, would just be the way things had to be. "I'll catch you later."

Peter pretty much ran over to Ned. "Hey, sorry about that..." Peter started.

"It's okay, I don't mind," Ned said. And it seemed he really didn't. "But what we're you going to tell me?"

"Actually..." Michelle said, popping out of nowhere. "There's something I want to tell you."

"Oh, no," Peter said out loud, even though he only meant to say it internally.

"I told Liz about how you were going to the dance with Ned, and now Liz is my date," Michelle smiled evilly.

"You mean... You're on a date with Liz, I am not on a date with Liz, and I am on a date with Ned?" Peter asked.

"Yes?" Ned said. "I mean, that's what I thought was happening."

"Good, good," Peter said.

"What did you think you were here with Liz, too?" Ned asked.

"It is probably best that I don't answer that," Peter said.

"Oh," Ned said, looking disappointed. "If you didn't want to go with me, you could have just told me."

"No, it's not that," Peter said. "I just... I asked Liz out first and then I wanted to go with you and I didn't want to hurt Liz's feelings and I didn't want to hurt your feelings, and it's complicated."

"I don't understand what's so complicated about it," Ned said. "Either you like me or you don't. Pick one."

"I like you Ned," Peter said fervently. "I mean, I really like you. Like a lot."

"You're a moron, Peter," Michelle said. "He's trying to say he's in love with you."

"Michelle can you maybe just not tell literally all my secrets to everyone?" Peter asked irritably.

"Peter is that true? Are you in love with me?" Ned asked.

Peter took a deep breath. "Yes, I've been in love with you since we were kids."

"We're still kids," Ned pointed out. "We're fifteen."

"Okay, then since we were younger kids. But really, I don't think that's the part you should be focusing on." Peter didn't know if Ned loved him back, and maybe he didn't need Ned to love him yet, but he needed to know Ned cared and that he wanted to be "a thing".

"Okay, well I love you, too," Ned said.

"God, that was hard," Michelle said.

"What was hard?" Ned asked.

"Setting you two morons up," Michelle said.

"You set us up?" Peter asked.

"Obviously. You two couldn't do it by yourselves, someone had to," Michelle said.

"That's... oddly nice," Peter said.

"Thanks, I did it out of the kindness of my heart," Michelle said.

"Thank you, Michelle. That is so kind of you," Ned said.

A slow song started playing. "I've got to go find Liz. You kids have fun." She gave them finger guns.

"Uh, do you wanna dance?" Peter asked.

"I mean, we could if you wanted to," Ned said nonchalantly.

"Yeah, let's do it," Peter said. He moved closer to Ned. "Uh... do you want to lead or should I?"

"Doesn't matter," Ned said.

"Okay..." Peter said. "I'm just going to put my arm around your waist."

"Okay," Ned said. "You could do that."

Peter's arms weren't particularly long and Ned wasn't the smallest guy, so the ended up pressed right against each other. Ned put a hand on Peter's back. "Yeah, okay, that works..." Peter said. They danced like the horribly awkward fifteen year olds they were. Peter wasn't sure, but he felt like he could hear people talking about them around them. Flash Thompson would probably have something to say. Peter didn't care.

The music stopped and Peter was a bit relieved because of his nerves, but a bit disappointed. It was kind of nice being so close to Ned.

"It's time to announce Homecoming King and Queen!" Liz said on stage. Peter wondered why they had chose her to be the announcer. Did that mean she wasn't winning Homecoming Queen?

"And the Homecoming King first is..." Liz said, pulling open the envelope. "It's Ned Leeds!" She clapped and smiled enthusiastically. Someone whistled and the crowd seemed to be generally approving. Peter hoped they weren't making fun of Ned.

"I'm Homecoming King?" Ned asked.

"It must be the hat," Peter said. "Go on. You're supposed to go on stage."

"Okay, yeah," Ned said, going on stage. Liz put a sash on him that said "Homecoming King."

"Wow, thank you," Ned said. He looked so happy. A couple of the boys laughed. Peter thought about how he could kick their asses and they didn't know it.

"And now for Homecoming Queen!" Liz said. She was laughing to herself. She read from the envelope. "Peter Parker!"

"What?" Peter said out loud. Everyone was staring at him. "I'm not a girl," he said.

"Okay, Homecoming King Number 2," Liz said. "You're Ned's date, right? Come on up."

Some people were laughing and some people were clapping. Peter went on stage anyway. He wasn't really sure he liked the idea of being called the Homecoming Queen, but it was sort of cool that he and Ned were voted in. Even if it was a joke.

Ned smiled up at Peter proudly.

"I'm not going to make you wear the tiara," Liz said. "I wanted to make a speech, though."

"You're not even Homecoming Queen!" Michelle yelled from the crowds. "Not your moment!"

Liz ignored her. "I want to say that the Homecoming Queen and King trend is both heteronormative and assuming everyone has a binary gender, and that's wrong. With that, I would like to present to you, your Homecoming Kings!"

#spider-man fanfiction #spider-man fluff #peterned #peter parker x ned leeds #peter parker fanfiction #ned leeds fanfiction #peter parker #ned leeds #my fanfiction #my stuff #spider-man homecoming

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looselucy · 7 years ago

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February

A knock on the door shook me awake, gasping and bolting upright, Kev looking at me with worried eyes, a little baffled by my state. I don’t know what triggered that reaction in me, for me to wake up like that, terrified before I’d even done anything with myself. I was physically shaking. “I’m sorry!” Kev gasped. “No it’s fine, I’m fine. Sorry.” “Okay... Well, we’re gunna be serving breakfast in about half an hour, if you want to join us.” He smiled. “Yeah, of course. Please.” I glanced to my side to see it was just me in bed. “Where’s Harry?” “Down by the river out back.” He said. “Okay. Thanks.”

He backed out slowly with a small smile, probably still a little confused about what had happened to me when he woke me up, but I thought it would be best not to dwell on it. It wasn’t anything serious, I knew that. It was probably just an alarmed aftershock thanks to what had happened the night before. I looked back to the empty side of the bed, my fingers tracing where Harry had been, finding the ragged sheets cold. I questioned how long he had been gone. That was the first moment that it fully dawned on me what we’d done. “Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.” I panted, my face in my hands. I couldn’t quite grasp at what had gone on. It didn’t sit right in my mind. It felt like some weird dream, some weird state I had been in. No way it could have actually happened. I gripped my legs shut tight and looked out of the window, trying to calm my breathing. It had happened. And I had woken up alone. I got out of bed and began dressing myself as a way of not thinking about it, doing anything to distract me from my thoughts about what had happened and what it meant. I kept thinking back to the old me. Ah, the pure, sweet, innocent me that existed a week before. The me who didn’t even like Harry Styles. Strange, how rapidly things had changed. I put on an acceptable outfit for travelling, and then tiptoed downstairs. Suddenly, it was impossible for me to act casual around Ben and Kev, like I had done all week. I was convinced they knew. “Good morning.” Ben smiled, scrambling eggs. “Morning. Where’s Harold? Your son… Harold.” Kev had just experienced my peculiar wake up and now he was seeing that bizarre behaviour, too. He must have thought I was going completely insane. “Out the back.” He told me, for the second time. I grinned in an unusual manner before walking out into the extension, and then through a door I hadn’t used in my time there, the door into the garden. It was nice, quite small, sectioned off by tall hedges, similar to the ones at the front of the house. Harry was nowhere to be seen. Right at the back, I spotted a tall brown, wooden gate, nestled into the hedges. I figured that was the only way I could possibly go. I cautiously walked its way, feeling the cold weather on my skin, which wasn’t all surprising now it was the 10th of February. I was just glad it wasn’t snowing again. I gently pushed at the gate, and was greeted with a small gathering of green woodland. It was nice, secluded, tranquil. I certainly lost the feeling of being in a town back there, it was like I was lost in the countryside. A small slither of water painted its way through the greenery, and I spotted Harry sat watching it, deep in thought, unaware of my presence. I almost wanted to back off again, to leave him to it, but I figured if we were to ever make this so it wasn’t awkward like it was with Harry and Tally, I would have to approach him sooner rather than later, to make sure things were normal. Fuck…Tally! I didn’t want to, or like, keeping secrets from anyone, but if Tally was to find out what had happened between Harry and I, it would only upset her; nothing else would come from it. I didn’t want to lie to her, but it felt like the better thing to do given our situation. Instead of saying anything, I just moved and sat behind Harry. He caught on, turning his head a little to catch a glimpse of me, before looking back to the flowing stream. “Be weird…” He said from nowhere. “Going back.” “It will.” I agreed. Harry took a deep breath inward, maybe the cold was affecting him, or maybe he was just finding it hard to speak to me. Not even down to the obvious thing that had happened, but even how we had slept together. So close, so intimate. I kind of hated that we wouldn’t need to share a bed again that night. “You packed?” He asked, finally looking at me. “I was gunna do it after breakfast.” “No worries. Don’t rush, or anything.” “I never rush.” I smiled. “You are generally a slow person.” He chuckled under his breath. We stayed quiet for some time, just looking out at the water in front of us, peaceful. But, to my surprise, it wasn’t an awkward silence. It was regular, familiar. I felt no need to force conversation with him. He turned to face me again, looking me up and down as I continued to glare forwards and battle through the cool, thinking of how I didn’t really want to go back. “How you feeling?” He asked me. He tried to ask it casually, but the undertone to his question stood out more than anything else. But I loved that. I loved that Harry was concerned about what had happened the night before, how I was feeling about it, if I was okay with it. He could have tried time and time again to ask that question in a more casual manner, but it would have never worked. He knew that. It didn’t matter. I was glad to hear his voice speak such hidden concerns. “I’m feeling good.” I told him truthfully. “How are you feeling?” “Good... Yeah. I feel really good.” He grinned like a fool, so I did the same, watching him exhale one last time before he quickly got to his feet, offering me a hand, which of course, I took. + + + Saying goodbye to Kev and Ben had been rougher than I was hoping it would be. It came as no surprise that the goodbye wasn’t great. Hello, it’s me, Pippa Payne, of course the goodbye wasn’t great. No goodbye ever would be. But I certainly hadn’t wanted to get as worked up as I had. It had taken actual strength not to cry. Strength found from somewhere unknown, maybe because I didn’t want Kev to think I had genuinely gone insane, though it was likely I had. What reason did I really have to cry? I’m not sure. Maybe the week had been a big representation for me. The progress with Harry... Everything with Harry, really. The way I couldn’t ignore my entire time there had been a way to avoid my family, avoid what was happening. Maybe that was why I had gotten so worked up. And I knew there wasn’t any guarantee I would spend time with them again. We were in the car, this time opting to listen to Fleetwood Macs ‘Rumours’ album. We pulled onto the motorway, and I couldn’t quite believe we were heading back, that everything was going to go back to normal. Back to lectures. Back to Ed and Zayn and Tally and Mike and back to Thimble. I couldn’t quite make sense of it. “Can’t believe we have fucking lectures tomorrow.” Harry groaned. “I know. I can’t be bothered. You should be excited. Your whole course is going to be better now.” “I suppose. I just enjoyed having a lazy week. Don’t want to go back to that routine. I’m not mentally ready for it.” He shrugged. ”I’m not mentally or physically ready.” We were also stepping into the last stage of our first year, which meant a few exams and a lot of reading. It also meant the summer holidays were just round the corner, which meant I would definitely have to go home. Wherever that was. By that point, my mother would probably have her own house. Would I stay with her, or with my dad? Would Liam be home? It wasn’t even worth thinking about. “We’re gunna have to start looking at houses, too.” Harry sighed, skipping a track quickly, leading us to The Chain. “Zayn text me saying he’s already booked us in for a viewing on Wednesday.” “Seriously?” “Yeah. A three-bedroom house.” “Good lord. It’s like he was just waiting for us to be friends.” “I think he was.” Zayn had probably been brushing the thought of housing next year to one side when me and Harry weren’t friends, unsure what to do. Now we were friends, he was leaping on the chance, before it was too late. Besides, we did know a few people who already had their accommodation sorted. It was probably time, and it was a lot easier now that me and Harry were getting on. “I hope Tally’s not mad at me.” I sighed. “About what happened last night?” Harry shot. He had mentioned it, and that threw me. I gulped, hard. I wasn’t expecting him to have said anything about it, to be honest, I thought it would be something we would ignore. “Umm... No. About the living situation next year.” “Oh. Well, do you want to live with her?” “I love her to pieces, but I’d rather live with you and Zayn.” It was finally sinking in, the fact we were friends. It was finally reaching the stage where I didn’t feel weird admitting that, admitting that we now got on so well, that I would rather live with him than I would Tally, who I had been friends with since day one. Myself and Tally were friends in the way many girls are, because of similarities, because it was easy and simple. Yet there wasn’t any pull, nothing special, not really. I just felt like Tally hadn’t really found anyone special at uni, and that’s why I felt badly about it. “Speaking of which, I have something to say.” Harry began awkwardly. “About… what happened last night and... stuff.” “Okay.” I shuddered. I looked down to my trembling hands. I don’t know what I was expecting, really. Why I was so nervous. I just didn’t want him to be like he was with Tally. I didn’t want him to be a typical lad and take the piss, or feel like he had gained something from it. I didn’t want him to see my worth lessened thanks to it. “I just... Shit. I don’t... I don’t know.” He fumbled. “Okay...” I said again. “Do you regret it?” He kept trying to turn to me, but having to keep his eyes on the road made that difficult. “I don’t regret it.” ”Good. Good, because I don’t either. I fucking... I wanted to kiss you so much, Pip. I don’t want you to think I didn’t.” I was definitely blushing. 100% Even the fact he wasn’t calling me Pip-Squeak was making me swoon. I really didn’t want to be swooning, but there was no denying I was. I tried to force my mind back to the state where I couldn’t see how charming and lovely he was. I couldn’t. “Okay.” I said, once again. “I just... I really don’t want to fuck this up.” “Fuck what up?” I mumbled. “I don’t want us to be like I am with Tally. I don’t want us to... start anything and ruin our friendship. I mean, we live together. We’re going to live together next year. Probably the year after that. I think you’re great, Pippa, but I don’t want anything further than what we had before last night, y’know? I don’t regret what happened but... I just... I don’t think it should happen again.” I completely understood his point, and I agreed. We had to keep things simple. If things like that carried on, the only outcome would be someone getting hurt. Feelings getting hurt and people getting hurt and things getting more and more complicated. Looking at Harry made me blush and flutter and that needed to stop before it went too far. His feelings were at risk, as were mine, as were Tally’s. We couldn’t possibly carry this on, casual or not. It felt casual, to be honest. I couldn’t see many obvious signs that I had feelings for Harry, but something must have been going on that had made us so desperate for one another. Something was there, we both knew that. But we both wanted to ignore it. For the greater good. “I’m on the same page.” I told him. “Really?” “Yeah.” “Good. I’m glad. I didn’t want to hurt your feelings, at all. I always end up… hurting peoples fucking feelings. I just... I cherish your friendship, which is fucking bizarre since a week ago I could barely stand you. But... yeah. I like us, like this. As friends. It’s good. I don’t want it to change.” I ignored the dropping feeling in my stomach, and nodded along happily, pretending not to feel like I was gutted, like we were missing an opportunity. The feeling wasn’t dominant, far from it. It was distant and dull, barely a spark. But the feeling was there. “I don’t think we should tell people either.” I added. “No?” “Tally would be upset, I think. And everyone else would read into it too much. Make it awkward. Make it a thing. There’s no point.” Harry nodded, thinking about what I had said and taking it in. I knew Harry would want to brag. Not that I thought I was anything special, but that’s just what boys do. He probably wanted to go back and tell the lads, get a high five, speak about what had happened and how easy I was, and all the rest. I liked Harry, but I knew what he was like. But what I had said rang true. It wasn’t worth the aftermath. “Okay. So we don’t tell anyone. It’s our little secret.” He breathed. “Our dirty little secret.” I said through a smile. “Very dirty.” He grinned, biting his lip. I swear to god, the car was fucking steaming up. It was atrocious. I took a sharp breath to the back of my throat and I looked out of the window, near ready to leap on him if it didn’t mean that he would crash the fucking car and end both of our lives. Harry shuffled in his seat, then cleared his throat. I watched out of the very corner of my eye as he rolled his shoulders, shaking his head. “And we definitely shouldn’t let it happen again.” He concluded. “Definitely.” “Just be a one-time thing. No strings attached. Just friends now.” “Sounds good.” I nodded. That, was basically, that. Nothing more to do. Nothing more to say. We were going to be back at uni, but with a friendship. A weird one, no doubt, but a friendship nonetheless. That was good enough for me. + + + As soon as we walked through the door to our flat, mid-giggle about something or other, Mike was stood in the doorway to the kitchen with his arms folded, like he knew we were coming, he was just waiting for us. “Well bend me over and fuck me sideways.” He said, both mine and Harry’s head bolting up to see him. “Look at you two.” “Hi, Mike!” I beamed, abandoning my bag and running to him. Seeing him then made me realise I was actually glad to be back, though I had felt differently that morning at Harry’s. I had missed Mike, I had missed everyone. I had missed my little single bed and the shared showers; the camping table Harry had bought. Everything I felt I could happily go without, had quickly become things I missed, things I hadn’t realised I was craving. It was almost like a sense of relief as I wrapped my arms tight around Mike and he lifted me from the floor in a tight hug, swinging me from side to side as my legs dangled, giggling loudly into his ear. “I missed you, Pippy Long-Stocking!” He cooed. “I missed you too!” “Harry get in here!” Mike called. “We can make a Pippa sandwich now that you’re friends. Come on!” Without much warning I felt another body come and press behind me as Harry wrapped his large arms around both me and Mike, my legs still dangling in the air as they both squished me as much as they could without hurting me. “You idiots are going to be so much worse now me and Harry are friends, aren’t you?” I struggled to speak. “Yup. It’s gunna be great.” Mike clucked. A part of me disagreed strongly with that, as I tried to escape being trapped between the two of them, but another part of me couldn’t wait. To finally live stress free, not hating anyone I lived with, just hating Louis. It was an unbelievable concept. “ALRIGHT, ENOUGH!” I yelled, kicking both of them hard, a leg each. I was dropped to the floor again, Mike pinching my cheek before he flaunted off into the kitchen, leaving me and Harry in the hallway alone. Suddenly, it felt weird us being alone together. In those rooms, in that hall, me and Harry had never been friends before. I usually would have been following Mike or retreating to my room just to get out of his company. It was weird doing anything other than that. “Either of you want a brew?” Mike shouted. “I’d love one.” Harry called back, turning to get his bag. “Pippa?” “Yes please!” I replied. I turned too, wandering blissfully down the hall to grab my things, smiling at Harry when I noticed he was looking at me. “This is weird.” He whispered. “I know!” I whispered back, bending down. I picked up my things and retrieved my key from the front of my bag, unlocking the door to my bedroom and letting myself in as Harry did the same by his door. I stepped into the familiar place, spotting a half drank cup of tea that had gone mouldy on the desk by my window, clothes still on the floor. I laughed at the thought of them showing people round my room in the hope of it looking appealing, because it really didn’t. Either way, appealing to others or not, it was appealing to me. I was glad to be home. After abandoning my things, I went into the kitchen, Mike ready and waiting by the heating kettle, three mugs out. “Are we the only ones who’re back?” I asked him, sitting down. “Nope. Me and Tally had a lecture today! Ringo is in her room, surprise surprise. And Tally is in her room, but she brought some boy back with her so she’s occupied.” “She brought a boy back?” “Yeah! Apparently, it’s some guy from home and now they’re going out or something. I don’t know. She either didn’t explain it very clearly or I wasn’t listening to her. Probably the latter. Definitely the latter.” Tally had a boyfriend. I felt relief wash over me. I had never planned on telling her about me and Harry, especially with it being a one-time thing, but I felt so much bloody better thinking about the fact that she was now, apparently, randomly, in a relationship. I had no idea where this boy had come from and why she suddenly had a boyfriend, but I was glad she did. My feelings of guilt lessened a dramatic amount automatically, just at the thought that maybe, if she did ever find out, it wouldn’t bother her that much. Harry came into the kitchen a few moments later, his hair scraped into that pathetic bun again, sticking his tongue out at me before he sat down next to me, flicking the tele on and extending his legs so his feet landed on top of the table, and he relaxed. “Eww, don’t put your smelly feet on the table, that’s where we eat!” I slapped his leg. “Well, Pip-Squeak, it’s technically my table. So, I think I’m okay to put my feet on it.” He scoffed right back. I tried to knock his feet off, catching Mike glance over his shoulder to see our little squabble, tutting and shaking his head. “So not much has changed between you two then, right?” He chuckled. “No. Harry’s still annoying.” “And Pippa is still a whiny bitch.” Harry concluded. I stuck my tongue out at him, my eyes gripped shut, and Harry pinched the flesh of my tongue between his finger and thumb, tugging on it gently, laughing away to himself as I dragged my head back from him, my muscle now feeling especially strange. “What are you doing?” I giggled, wiggling my tongue about. “I like your tongue, it’s quick.” He smirked. We had barely been in the building five minutes, and we were already flirting. It wasn’t even painfully obvious flirting, that was the worst part. Mike probably didn’t bat an eye, but all I could think about was Harry’s tongue meeting mine again, repeating what had happened the night before. ”Don’t!” I warned. “Behave.” His face dropped in the realisation of what we had spoken about on the drive over, how stupid it would be of us to carry on, how it could and would backfire if we did anything again. Somehow, flirting was natural for us now, but it really needed to stop. “Sorry.” He whispered back. “I didn’t think.” We both needed to start thinking again. And quick. + + + I sat in Ringo’s room as she played the violin for me. She had an exam at the end of the week, where she had to perform a piece, solo. Solo worked for Ringo, that much was obvious, but what didn’t sit well with her was the thought of going into an exam without any kind of backup, any kind of second opinion about how she was playing, if any part of it wasn’t quite up to scratch. All I could hear though, was the haunting notes that were circling her small room. It was stunning, whatever it was that she was playing. It was gentle but deep, unexciting but completely consuming and terrifying. I was baffled and in awe of what music could do, at the same time as being ridiculously jealous that the way her fingers moved on those strings wasn’t a talent I possessed myself. As she finished, I took a deep breath in, unable to avoid her pleading eyes as she waited for a response. “Okay,” I coughed. “I’m no musician, but that was really good. I nearly cried, when it peaked, if that makes sense.” “Yeah. Yeah, I know which bit you’re talking about.” She said, her toes curling. “My friend Ed is into his music, he’d probably be able to give you better feedback than I ever could, if you’re comfortable with that.” “Is he nice?” She asked worriedly. “Nicest guy you’ll ever meet.” “Okay. Yeah. That would be good.” Ringo was one of the cutest people I had ever met in my life, but in a tragic way. She was so drawn in on herself, so shy, you could almost see it ache her every time she spoke. There had to be a very serious reason behind why she was that way; it became clearer the more I saw of her, because she was okay to spend time with me, but she still struggled to speak and be natural around me. I thought about Harry, never really speaking about his mother, and I thought maybe our week together had helped that. Maybe Ringo needed someone to speak with, too. “I can leave now, if you want.” I smiled. “No. It’s nice, having company.” “You seem to struggle with it.” I spoke calmly, trepidation dripping my tone. “Near impossible.” She breathed a hurt chuckle. “Took all my might to come to uni. I live hours away or else I’d commute and live at home.” “Do you know why?” I asked, hoping I wasn’t pushing my luck. “The doctors say I have a very intense type of anxiety. They also say it’s something that can be improved within myself, but I really struggle to take those steps. Feels good... talking to you. I feel like I’ve taken one step, at least.” In a way, I felt honoured that it was me she felt comfortable with, that it was me who was helping her take those steps. I couldn’t see any reason why it was me, no obvious one anyway, but it still felt nice. That night that Harry backed me up against her door in a rage, might not have been great for me, but it was good for Ringo, and I figured, that was more important. “Good. That’s good. I’m glad I’m… helping.” I shrugged happily. “Is there anything else I can do?” “Not really.” She shrugged back. “I think I just need to try when I’m comfortable, y’know? I’m comfortable-ish, with you now. So that’s good enough.” “It’s amazing. You should be proud.” I gulped heavily before I asked the next question I had for her. “Do you know why... If there’s any reason you’re like this?” “I think maybe... my mum and dad. They’re great, don’t get me wrong, but... I never saw them with friends. When I was little, we never went on holiday or anything, they never had people over or just went to the pub or anything. I’m an only child so... I dunno. Just struggle with that kind of thing. They just used to sit and listen to music and... that was it, really.” I wondered if Ringo only really felt comfortable behind an instrument, where she didn’t have to say anything, but she was still speaking a language, one understood by all people, no matter where they were from or how they were raised. Anyone could appreciate the beauty of her playing that violin, appreciate her, and she didn’t have to say a thing. “Is Ringo your real name?” I asked. “Yeah.” She scoffed. “Because of Ringo Starr?” “Yeah! I don’t even like the fucking Beatles. Can you believe that?” I burst out laughing and fell back on her bed, kicking my little legs. In a way, I felt bad, laughing at her name like that, but the fact she didn’t like The Beatles was just so funny to me, and I could tell it was funny to her too. She sat giggling on the stool in front of me, shaking her head, seeming more at ease than I had ever seen her before. “I’m sorry.” I laughed breathlessly. “It is pretty funny.” She shrugged. “How was your week off?” “Um... Weird.” I calmed, worried about telling her. “I ended up at Harry’s.” “What?” “I know.” “He’s an abusive arsehole!” Hearing that language from come from Ringo made my eyes wide and I almost burst out laughing again, because it was so out of character for her. She was moving up in leaps and bounds, and she didn’t even know it yet. “It’s complicated.” I told her. “So, there’s a good reason why he backed you up against the door by your throat?” She whelped sarcastically. “Yeah, believe it or not.” “I don’t believe it.” ”Well you would if you heard his reason.” She narrowed her eyes at me, and then it was almost like she started blushing, caving back into herself just slightly before she asked. “Did you have sex with him?” “What? NO!” “You totally had sex with him!” “Ringo, shh!” “You wouldn’t want me to shush if you hadn’t.” “I didn’t have fucking sex with him!” I seethed, as quietly as I could. “He told me why what happened that night, happened, and it’s a good reason, okay? Not my place to repeat, either. So can we drop it?” Snapping at her felt like kicking a puppy. She was so quiet and gentle, it felt wrong, but I couldn’t help myself. Not only did I feel a solid need, to keep hidden the events of the evening before, but I also now felt a need to protect Harry. “Fine, I’m sorry.” She gulped. “I just think you should be careful around people like him. Someone who’s capable of doing that.” I wish she could see Harry the way I saw him, have heard his story and be able to embrace him in the way I had. Because even after everything, after seeing Harry fight, take drugs, feel his arm against my throat, I could still see Harry for how fragile he really was. He was as delicate as a butterfly. + + + I lay on my bed, trying to cram in the reading I should have been doing all week into one night. It was dark and bitterly cold outside. I kept my curtains open and watched rain slither down my window, my lamp on, a cup of tea on the floor beside me, a book in my hand and Fleet Foxes playing quietly in the background. Even though I was doing work, I was in very high spirits. I felt very grateful that we hadn’t decided to go out, because it could have definitely been an option, knowing the lot of us and with it being our first night back, but it seemed a week of doing nothing had worn us all out, and we needed one evening to get back into the routine of getting drunk more often than not. The more sleep before my first lecture, the better. Besides, the sooner I got to sleep, the sooner I would see Zayn, and on that blustery Monday evening, that was my main priority. I ignored my phone as it rang, thinking whoever was calling would have to just wait, I was finally getting a little work done and I didn’t want to put it on hold. But when it rang automatically after the first failure, I felt like I should at least check who it was. I was glad I did. “Liam!” I gasped as I answered. “Holy shit! I’m sorry! How are you?” “Confused.” He gulped loudly. “I’m stood in Manchester airport, and all the signs are in British, and like… that is just the weirdest thing to me.” “You’re in Manchester?” “I am.” “Holy shit.” It had been actual years since me and Liam were in the same country together, and I felt this new kind of bond with him. Our bond had always been strong, more so after he left, but having him feel so close to me was new and equivocal. “Just thought I should let you know.” He smiled, the ruffle suggesting he was on the move. “I’m going to see mum and help her move some stuff out.” It must have been worse for Liam, in some ways. Liam had only known our parents to be happy, when he left all those years ago, he couldn’t have imagined to come back to this, to them on the brink of a divorce. At least for me, I had seen them just a few weeks before, smiling, seemingly happy. Liam left wanting to come back to the same thing, but couldn’t. Leaving a family whole and coming back to a broken one must have been excruciating. “Is she okay?” I asked. “You haven’t spoke to her?” “Not really. I’ve just needed… some room to breathe. I feel awful about it.” “Don’t. I’m sure she understands. But she’s doing alright. Dad won’t answer my calls.” I was very angry with my father, and that anger hadn’t had a vent. I hadn’t seen him or spoke to him, I’d barely thought of him. I wondered why that anger hadn’t exploded out of me yet. It was bound to be close. “That’s rude.” I huffed. “He hasn’t seen you for years and he won’t even speak to you? He’s pathetic.” “We’re all dealing with this in different ways, Pip. Dad probably knows we’re angry and upset, and he’s probably not in the best shape either. He won’t need you screaming at him! I think we all just need our time.” Liam had a good head on his shoulders. I personally wouldn’t know if traveling like he had would make such a thing worse, or better. He never really had a full-time job, or any real responsibilities. But he had looked after himself and done everything on his own for years. It seemed to have done him well. “I guess.” I put my book down. “So, look, I kind of get that your way of dealing with this is to avoid it-” “More like my way of not dealing with it.” I grunted about myself. “No, your way of dealing with it, is to not get involved. So I thought, maybe in a couple of weeks when I’m settled, I’ll come and see you?” “Serious?” “Yeah!” “What’s your plan? With your... y’know... life?” I tried to make the dense question as light as I could. “I’m gunna look for a job, hopefully get one with dad, if he’ll speak to me. Then I can start renting somewhere and... I dunno. Figure everything out from there.” I still couldn’t tell if Liam wanted to be home or not. He wasn’t giving anything away. I didn’t want to bring it up in case he was painfully sad about it. I always figured he had to come home at some point, but I had never really believed it. “I think mum really appreciates you doing this.” I mumbled. “It’s all good.” He spoke, nonchalant. “Look, I better make a move. But yeah, I might come for your birthday or something. We’ll see, alright?” “Sounds great.” “Night, Pip!” “Night, Liam. Good to have you home!” + + + I awoke with a book on my face, my nose brushing against some shoddy piece of poetry written by someone I couldn’t care less about, and my hand in a packet of crisps. I heard my name being called, just slightly. My eyes flickered open as I moved my greasy fingers, wiping them on the sheet before moving the book off my face and turning around to my door, my eyes still blurred, but easily being able to make out Harry’s frame. “Mornin’.” I practically sleep-talked. “Evenin’.” He replied with a grin. “It’s not even ten.” “Then why on earth are you waking me up, you fool?” I groaned, flopping back down. He came and sat on my bed beside me as I flopped my arm over my eyes, close to falling back to sleep again, but nudging to the side a little to give him more than enough room. “Feel like I haven’t seen much of you today.” He sighed. “I’m weening myself off you.” I flipped over to face away from him, towards the wall. “Had enough of you this week.” Without saying anything, and with barely any noise, Harry lay down on my bed and tucked himself into me, wrapping his arms tight around my waist. Like a second nature, I held his arms even tighter to me by tucking them under my own, relaxing completely, until I felt his hot breath on the back of my neck. “Pip-” “What are you doing?” I interrupted. “Cuddling.” “Playing with fire.” I informed him. Denying I liked the heat of that fire, was not something I could do when I was still half dazed and woozy, seconds away from being dragged back into sleep. “I don’t really want to be alone.” He whispered to me. He had to be this close to me. In his bed at home we had room, most nights we had slept apart, barely touching. But now he had to be close to me, in that single bed, he had no other options. But I wasn’t really complaining. I wanted to. I wanted to be kicking him off the bed, but I had never felt as close to anyone as I did to him the night before. I would have been lying if I said I wasn’t craving to feel that intimacy once more. “Okay.” I mulled back. “But this is the last time.” “Apart from maybe if we’re drunk.” “Not even then.” I smiled, he held me tighter. “We’ll see.” We stayed quiet for a while, and it became apparent that sleep wasn’t quite as close as I thought it was. Or maybe it was just because he was there, maybe because I just wanted to lap up a little more time where I was totally aware I was in his arms before I drifted off. “Why are you here?” I asked him hesitantly. My stomach turned as one of his hands landed on top of it. He took a deep breath in, worried to give me his real answer, but it didn’t stop him. “Because I want to be.” I wanted him to be there too. I was just used to him. Falling asleep alone and waking up alone was dreadful. I figured I was still upset about Louis, that was why it felt nice having him close to me, having someone there. We had become accustom to it and it was nice. It was better than being alone, anyway. One more night spent like that, couldn’t hurt. That time round, we didn’t kiss. There were no wandering hands or even wandering thoughts. It was just me and him, slumbering sweetly together. It was nicer than it should have been.

#BACK TO LIFE #BACK TO REALITY #lemme know your thoughts #BB20 #1dff #Harry Styles

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