#man i was so excited i was like hell yeah i wrote something good in under 600 words and then i looked at the prompt again and went Ah.
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okay i originally wrote this for the steddie microfic challenge but failed epically when i realized i was way over the word count 〒▽〒 still i really like this so i'm gonna tag @wynnyfryd and hope you enjoy it regardless! it's set around steve's senior year i'd say idk
So here's the thing.
Eddie knows he's not supposed to be at the pool after-hours for like, security or whatever but -
But sometimes you drop one of your lucky guitar picks while watching swim practice (respectfully of course) and only realize it halfway through your Hellfire session, which means after-hours sneaking in it is.
And he expected to have to double back and bring Frank along to pick the lock but the doors aren't even locked.
Is this a good idea, Eddie thinks, to wander unsuspectingly into an unlocked sports facility frequented by assholes who would probably half-drown someone if they thought it'd be funny?
No.
But Eddie's always been down for bad ideas.
He sneaks his way in, barely makes a sound, and is immediately shoved up against the wall by -
"Munson?"
Steve Harrington.
"What -" Eddie chokes, Harrington's arm making for a heavy pressure on his neck that is definitely cutting off his air supply. "Dude -"
Harrington blinks at him, any sliver of that predatory gaze melting away, before letting go and stepping back. "Oh, sorry. You okay?"
Bent over, hands on his knees, Eddie tries to catch his breath and stare up at Harrington as incredulously as he can at the same time.
"Sorry, stupid question, right." Harrington rubs the back of his neck with a wince and Eddie - realizes he's shirtless. And wet.
"Are you - are you seriously swimming right now?" He coughs out, straining to keep his eyes up above that jawline. "In the middle of winter?"
The guy just shrugs.
What the hell.
"Also," Eddie stands up straight, crossing his arms with a squint, doing his best to hide the shivers racking up his spine. Harrington's eyes catch on something behind him. "What the fuck was that, man? Your first instinct at getting caught under the bleachers is to fucking jump people?"
No response from the King, who apparently finds Eddie's hair more interesting than a damn conversation, considering how fucking unfocused his eyes are. Probably just wants to get back to whoever he's sucking face with, the dick.
"Whatever, man, just let me find my shit and I'll get out of -"
"Here," Harrington says, swiftly taking Eddie's hand, leaving him zero time to react, and pressing his guitar pick into his palm?! He pushes Eddie’s fingers to curl over the pick, patting the fist gently. "Try to stay out of here after school, Munson. Shit gets dangerous."
"Wha - how - what the fuck?" Eddie snatches his hand back. He stares.
The pool water reflects across Harrington's face, a blue glow that makes him look...otherworldly. Ethereal, even. Brown locks of hair turned damp, stuck to his skin, framing his face and curling around his eyes that look too dark for the evening light, barely distinct from the dilated pupils they hold. Water drips down his nose, fingers, chest, audibly splashing onto the wet pool floor, echoing out into the empty space.
"What..." Eddie hesitates, looking back up at those deep, void-like eyes. "What are you doing here, Harrington?"
The guy smiles, tilting his head at Eddie, eyes half-lidded. "Go home, Munson."
He steps closer to Eddie, leaning in, flooding the air with an acrid smell, some combination of chlorine and smoke. He stares at Eddie, giving a small nod and smiles again.
There's no light reflecting off his eyes, Eddie realizes before he steps back, keeps stepping until his back hits the exit door.
Harrington waves a hand, fingers bending up and down one by one. "Try to stay out of the dark."
The door shuts in Eddie's face and he runs.
#sailor✧writes#steddie#au content#writing#drabble#man i was so excited i was like hell yeah i wrote something good in under 600 words and then i looked at the prompt again and went Ah.#i still had fun writing steve like this though like Other!Steve is just gold tier to me#thinking about doing more drabbles like this honestly#monster steve month or something idk#spooky steve stuff
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Homecoming - C. Leclerc
summary: have you ever had a massive crush on your team rival?
pairing: Charles Leclerc x Red Bull driver! reader
warnings: drinking, swearing, use of y/n
word count: 5.5k
a/n: so @coco-loco-nut (aka my irl bestie) and i both wrote fics based on the same concept, theirs is linked at the end!
smau
masterlist
Contrary to popular opinion, Monaco was one of, if not your least favorite racetrack. It was narrow, making it hard to pass and way too easy to defend. Analysts would say all of that makes the Grand Prix exciting, while you found it to be just plain stupid. For the last half of the race, you were stuck in a DRS train in 10th, sandwiched between Alex in front and Pierre behind.
“Fucking hell guys, this is boring.” You complained over the radio “Sorry I can’t do any better right now”
And you couldn’t do any better the rest of the race. While your race was nowhere near eventful, you were able to get glimpses of the screens showing Charles crossing the checkered flag first at his home race. You didn’t bother fighting the smile growing on your face. He had worked all of his life for this moment. He deserved every bit of euphoria.
You slid into parc ferme along with the rest of the midfield, barely able to get out of the car and reconnect your steering wheel fast enough. Sprinting down parc ferme, you found Charles celebrating with his team and family. When he eventually wriggled his way out of their grasp, you were able to approach him.
“Congrats Charlie. Well deserved man” You said, embracing him in a hug
“Thank you, thank you” Was all he was able to get out.
As the podium celebration ensued, you and Max made your way to the media pen. Dozens of news outlets were scattered around the barrier, prompting you to separate from your teammate. The interviewer greeted you before going through the standard questions of what went wrong in the race.
“Now let’s talk about something that happened after the race” The interviewer spoke, leading you to raise an eyebrow. “I think everyone who wasn’t looking at Leclerc was watching you run down parc ferme to greet him. Can you tell me a bit about that?”
You couldn’t help but chuckle. At the time, you didn’t think twice about doing it, but being asked about your actions, you probably looked crazy doing it. “Yeah I mean it’s always exciting watching someone win their home race. It’s something I’ve dreamed of since I started watching Formula One as a little girl”
A pause took over for a moment as you decided on the best way to word your next thoughts. “Charles is a very good friend of mine. He’s someone who welcomed me to the championship with open arms last year. On track I always want to give him a good fight if possible, but off the track I’m always going to support him.”
Now Charles wasn’t usually one to eavesdrop on interviews. Most of the drivers said the same things over and over again, occasionally rephrasing. But whenever he heard your sweet southern accent, he couldn’t help but to listen in on what you had to say.
When your words hit his ears, he could feel his heart stop. He wasn’t expecting you to confess a secret crush that no one knew you had to some interviewer, but a guy could dream. Instead, you very publicly friendzoned the Monegasque.
Little did he know, you did in fact have a massive secret crush that only one person knew about. That one person was your teammate. And boy did he know a lot about it.
“Did I just friendzone Charles with that?” You asked as the two of you walked towards the Red Bull garage for the team meeting.
“Honestly maybe” Max said “Depends on if Charles is smart enough to realize you said it because you weren’t stupid enough to reveal your emotions to the media”
“So then I definitely friendzoned him. Got it” You sighed
You weren’t sure if it was just how boring the entire day was, but the team meeting felt like it was dragging on. While you were zoning in and out of listening to Horner and Marko explain every single thing that was wrong with how you drove, you spotted Max next to you on his phone.
“What are you doing?” You whispered
Max’s head snapped up to look at you, quickly turning off his phone as he did so. “Oh, uh nothing”
You shrugged, not thinking anything of Max’s reaction. He was always a private person, and you understood not wanting anyone to know your private conversations.
Later that night, you traded your fireproofs for a little black top and jeans, as you and the grid were going out to celebrate Charles’ win. You were the last of the drivers to arrive, all of the boys jokingly blaming it on the fact you took longer to get ready, but in reality you needed the time to calm your nerves.
You had gone to the club with the grid plenty of times before, but none of them revolved around Charles being the center of attention. You knew he was going to be bouncing around the group, spending time with everyone, and you were sure you didn’t want to make a fool out of yourself.
Meanwhile, Charles was worrying about himself. When he drank, he got flirty. He knew it, Max knew it, even the fans knew it. The only person he was sure didn’t know was you. And that was only because he never drank as much as he usually does when he’s around you.
He was already a few drinks deep when you finally showed up. He was near the back of the room, but he could spot your figure from a mile away. As you navigated through the sweaty bodies and sticky floors, Charles was easily able to get your attention by a wave of his hand.
That wave turned into a hug, followed by a kiss on either cheek from the Monegasque. You realized it was just a cultural difference, and that’s how he greeted all of his female friends, but that didn’t stop your heart from fluttering.
“Congrats again Charlie” You said finally spoke
“Thank you mon amour, why don't I get you a drink to celebrate?” He asked, his words already starting to slur a bit
“I can pay for myself. If anything so should be getting you a drink, for the winner after all” You replied.
“No, no, no. Let me get it for you.” He insisted “You wouldn’t want to disappoint the winner, now would you?”
You knew you weren’t going to win this round, so you let him buy you a drink. He followed you up to the bar where he easily got the attention of the bartender.
“Moscow mule and a vodka redbull, blue edition” He ordered
Your head snapped to look at him, surprised he knew what you wanted. Regardless of how many times you’ve gone out drinking with him, you knew you never told him what your usual was.
“You know my drink order?” You asked
“I’m just that good” He shrugged as the bartender handed him the beverages. Charles handed you the vodka redbull as the two of you walked away from the bar. “Feel free to put the rest of your drinks on my tab tonight”
It was a no-brainer that Charles was going to be the center of attention all night. Not even thirty seconds after you got your drinks, his childhood friends whisked him away. Then it was his friends from Ferrari. And then his brothers. And then those people who claimed they were friends with him, but only got close with him after he became famous.
But no matter how many times he got carried away, he always found his way back to you. Even if it was just for a second, Charles made sure he checked on you throughout the night.
The majority of your night was spent with Max, Logan and Oscar. You were lucky you got along well with your teammate, and you, Logan, and Oscar all grew close due to being the rookies the season prior. It also helped that Logan was the only other American on the grid.
“So what’s going on between you and Charles?” Oscar asked
“Oh uh nothing. We’re just friends” You said, hoping the Aussie would drop the topic
Unfortunately for you, Logan decided to call you out. “Oh bullshit. I overheard him insisting on buying your drinks tonight, and we all saw you sprinting earlier to congratulate him”
“Charles is too drunk to realize what he’s offering” You quickly dismissed
“Still doesn’t explain your actions in parc ferme” Logan reminded
You looked to Max for help, only for the Dutchman to shrug.
“You are no help” You told him as you turned to the two others “I may have a small crush on him”
Max almost did a spit take when he registered your words. “Small? You were doodling both of your initials together during the team meeting today.”
“Details, details. How about another round?” You suggested, quickly changing the subject.
The four of you had just finished a round of shots when you saw Charles approaching from behind Max. The Monagasque rested his arm on Max’s shoulder, clearly needing stability. His eyes widened and a goofy smile formed on his face when he saw you.
“There you are!” Charles slurred, moving his arm from Max’s shoulders to yours
“Oooohkayy, I think it’s time for you to go home” You said, shifting to support his weight better “C’mon Charlie”
“Ooo Charlie” Logan teased
You shot the American a glare, mouthing the words “not now”. Charles somehow got himself off of you, only to wrap his arms around himself, embracing his own body in a hug.
“Uh, are you good?” Oscar asked Charles, his voice filled with concern
“Yes, just thanking myself for coming out tonight. I picked a great bar” Charles answered with a goofy grin forming on his face. His eyes were shut as he swayed back and forth, almost knocking into a poor girl behind him.
Apologies quickly fell out of your mouth to the girl. As you turned back to the group, all of the boys except Charles had worry plastered on their faces. Both Max and Oscar offered to help you take Charles home, but you turned them down. His place was only a few blocks away, and your hotel was about the same. You slung Charles’ arm over your shoulder, before bidding goodbye to your friends.
“Bye Charlieeee” Logan teased his fingers waving goodbye. Another glare was shot from your eyes before Charles was carried out to the street.
It didn’t take long to get Charles to his apartment. You insisted he sit down as you got him a glass of water, knowing he was too far from sober to do it without breaking or hurting something. Once he downed his first non alcoholic beverage in who knows how long, he changed and you put him to bed.
You were sober and comfortable enough to walk yourself home, so once Charles was tucked in, you slipped your shoes on. Before you could get near the door though, you heard Charles calling your name.
“What’s up?” You whispered as you opened the door to his bedroom.
His eyes mimicked a puppy dog, pleading and full of concern. “I don’t want this to sound weird, but do you want to stay in the guest room tonight? I just don’t want you walking alone in the dark”
Even though you knew you’d be fine walking home, you knew Charles would blame himself if something did happen to you. So, you agreed. You changed into one of Charles’s shirts that he insisted on you sleeping in, and made your way to the guest room.
Neither of you dared to bring up what happened in Monaco. Not that anything bad happened, it was simply you didn’t know how the other felt, and it wasn’t a line either of you were comfortable crossing yet.
Going into media day, you knew the press conference was going to be boring. It was Monza weekend, and your media group consisted of Lando, Pierre, Franco, and Charles. Having the attention on Charles was fine by you. You would be fine without the media taking your words out of context.
With each question directed at Charles, you zoned out more and more. Thoughts of what you were going to do during the three week break crossed your mind. While traveling around the world for work was fun, home truly was where your heart lived. Your thoughts were cut off by someone tapping you. Looking to your right, Franco’s eyes met yours.
You had made some small talk with Franco throughout the day, wanting to welcome him into the league the same way you were last year. It was painful to receive the news that Logan was being replaced, but you couldn’t resent the newcomer, he just happened to be the one that was promoted.
“Is this usually this insufferable?” He whispered, genuine concern lacing his voice
You stifled a laugh, careful not to interrupt Charles “Not this bad usually, but yeah it’s bad”
“Great” He muttered “Thought I escaped it when I got promoted”
The press room grew silent, leading you and Franco to press pause on your conversation. All eyes were on the two of you, while you guys gave blank stares back.
“Did you hear the question?” The interviewer asked
Franco chuckled awkwardly as he brought the microphone to his mouth. “Honestly? No. Bad first impression, so sorry”
“No worries. Welcome to F1 Franco.” The interviewer said “For a fun question for the drivers: is there a certain trait that another driver has that you wish you had?”
Franco thought for a second before opening his mouth to speak “Y/n’s friendliness I think. She was the first of the drivers to welcome me into F1, going out of her way to go to the Williams garage and introduce herself. So uh yeah, her friendliness”
Warmth ran to your cheeks as the Argentinian turned to look at you. His smile was captivating, making your rosy glow even worse.
“Wow, that was really sweet. Thank you Franco” You whispered before clearing your throat and picking the microphone up.
Your eyes landed on each of the drivers in the room, trying to think of any trait you would want from any of them. Charles’ ability to learn on the fly came to mind, but you couldn’t rave about Charles without revealing your feelings.
“Ummmm, this may be team bias, but I’m probably going to have to pick Max.” You finally answered “His ability to perform under immense pressure is admirable. Going into last season as a rookie, I don’t think I could have asked for a better partner, or a better person to learn from.”
The press conference wrapped up, the news stations leaving before the drivers could. You sat and talked to Franco a bit more, getting to know the newest driver better. Charles watched from the other side of the couch, trying not to make it too obvious.
“Earth to Charles” Lando said, waving his hand in front of the Monegasque’s face
“Wha-what’s up?” Charles asked, snapping his head to look at Lando
“You were staring. Badly.” Lando pointed out
“Not staring,” Charles defended, but the pink in his cheeks gave him away “Just…observing”
“Sure, mate.” Lando smirked as he stood up, “You know, if you actually told her how you feel, you wouldn’t have to watch from a distance like a creep”
“Really? I had no idea” Charles mumbled. He was relieved to see you didn’t hear what Lando had just said, as you were too engulfed in your conversation with Franco.
“Just saying” The Brit continued “Everyone can see the chemistry between you two”
Charles adjusted his hat as he stood up next to his friend. “I just don’t want to ruin the friendship. What if it goes wrong?”
Lando rolled his eyes. “Or it could go right. Look at how she talks to you, how she lights up around you. That’s not just a friendship, mate. She clearly likes you.���
Charles stole another glance at you, your eyes still focused on Franco. With one last sigh, he left the conference room, almost slamming the door behind him.
“What was that all about?” Franco asked you as he looked at the now shut door across the room
“I have no idea” You admitted “Whatever it is, he’ll get over it”
The Austin sun blazed through the sky as you entered the paddock. You always loved being back home, and of course you went all out for it. You had your hair in two braided pigtails with your favorite cowboy hat resting on top, and a matching pair of boots tucked under your blue jeans.
Most of the other drivers played into the gimmicks that Texas brought, even if they didn’t do them right. Some donned backwards cowboy hats while others tucked their jeans into their boots, both leading you to wince. Some, like Charles, did both.
“You look absolutely ridiculous” You yelled down the paddock as you spotted Charles in the middle of a media scrum
From what you could tell, they were in the middle of an unboxing of some sorts. Plastic and paper wrapping littered the area as a box was cracked open. Both Charles and the media turned to watch you walk over.
“What are you talking about? I look fabulous” Charles said, showing off his new hat
“Yeah,” You replied as you approached him “Except for the fact your hat’s the wrong way and your jeans are tucked in.”
Before Charles could protest, you took the hat off of his head (from the crown of course, you weren’t an animal) and flipped it. His cheeks grew hot, both from embarrassment and how close you were to him.
“Thank you” He whispered before untucking his jeans
Saturday went perfectly for Red Bull. Max won the sprint, while you took second, giving the team a few more points in the Constructor’s race.
As your day in the paddock came to a close, there was only one thing on your mind: the Texas/Georgia game. Growing up right outside the city meant your Saturdays were spent cheering on the Longhorns, and today was no different.
You found Charles leaving the paddock at the exact same time you were, giving you the perfect opportunity to ask if he wanted to join you. While you knew he knew nothing about football, it at least gave you an excuse to spend a little extra time with him during the weekend.
“What’s the chance you’re not doing anything tonight?” You asked as you caught up to him.
“Easily 100%. Do you have something in mind?” He replied
“I have an extra VIP ticket to the game tonight and a spare jersey. Wanna join?”
“You know I don’t know anything about American football” He reminded you. Charles truly wanted to go, but he didn’t want to bring your experience down because he was an idiot.
“Pleaseeee” You begged, flashing him a fake pout “I promise you’ll have fun”
Charles ran his hand through his hair before sighing “Okay. But this better not ruin my race tomorrow”
You were right, Charles did have fun. Most of the time was spent on the sidelines, getting up close to the action. Charles didn’t understand a lick of what was going on, but that didn’t mean he didn’t try to. You walked him through all of the basic things he should know, like touchdowns, field goals, and extra points.
And Charles would let you talk for days if he could. He was captivated by how your intonation changed as you explained the difference between a pass, a rush, and a kick attempt. Did any of what you said stick in his head? Absolutely not. But that didn’t matter. He was with you, and you were with him, and about 100,000 other people in the stadium.
The rest of the weekend only got better for you. Not only were you working your way into Charles’ heart, you made your way to the top step of the podium. You knew Max was going to be aggressive going into turn one, giving you ample opportunity to sneak into the lead, where you stayed for the rest of the race. Both Charles and Max were on the podium with you, P2 and P3 respectively.
“So would you say last night affected your race?” You asked Charles once you got to the cool down room. You quickly swapped the helmet in your hands for a towel and the Pirelli cap that were waiting for you.
Charles chuckled “Maybe, I coulda ended up on the top step”
You shrugged as you took your seat in the middle of the two boys. “Guess we’ll never know”
After the formalities and shenanigans of the podium ceremony, you found yourself in the back of the media pen waiting for your turn for an open interviewer. You could feel a presence walking up to you, causing you to turn. Of all people, Franco was the one to approach. The two of you were decent friends, you being one of the first people to welcome him to the F1 grid.
“Congrats on the win, amiga” Franco said, bringing you in for a hug
“Thank you, thank you” You replied, “How was your first race at COTA?”
“It was good! Definitely glad to be racing closer to home. I can’t wait for the next three in the Americas” He said
As you and Franco made small talk, Charles was watching you like a hawk from across the pen. He listened to every laugh that came out of your mouth from something Franco said, analyzed every light hearted touch of the arm. Max was next to him, well aware of the events of the night prior. It was hard for him to not know about it, you would not stop talking about it in the paddock.
“The way he held me? I felt like the only girl in the stadium” “He let me explain football to him, Max. No one ever lets me do that around here” “Are you sure he feels the same way about me?” Were all phrases that left your mouth earlier in the day.
Max was positive Charles felt the same way about you that you did about him. Any of the few remaining doubts flew out the window as he listened to Charles whine.
“Whatever he said cannot be that funny, right?” Charles asked “Like there’s no way”
Max muttered a “mhm” as he took a sip of the Red Bull in his hand.
“I just don’t get how he does it so easily! What is it about him that makes him that likeable?” Charles asked “Is it the accent?”
“Maybe it’s because he’s a natural flirt.” Max said “You couldn’t flirt with a brick if you tried”
Charles’ glare left Franco and turned to the Dutchman next to him “You didn’t need to say that.” Max threw his hands up in defense.
“But what am I supposed to do if she can’t understand my flirting?” Charles asked
“Just tell her how you feel. Ask her out on a date” Max suggested as if it was obvious.
“That’s just asking for her to run me off the track in the next race” The Monagasque said. He ignored Lando’s advice in Monza, and he was likely to do the same to Max.
A frustrated groan left Max’s mouth as he smacked the back side of his friend’s head. “Oh my god. Do I have to spell it out? She likes you.”
Charles’ eyebrows furrowed as he watched you say goodbye to the Argentenian. A spot had opened up in the media pen, and Charles’ eyes followed you as you greeted the interviewer.
“How do you know that?” He asked
“Mate, she took you to the Texas game yesterday. She doesn’t take just anyone. I’ve known her for years and I still haven’t gotten an invite.” He explained “In the garage, she wouldn’t shut up about how much fun she had with you last night.”
“Really?” Charles asked. He couldn’t believe the words coming out of his friend’s mouth.
“Yes, really. Now if you don’t tell her how you feel, I’m going to do it for you.” Max threatened as he walked towards the next open interviewer.
The bar buzzed with excitement as the sun dipped below the horizon. It being your home race, you ordered both your friends on and off the grid to join in the celebrations. Most of the guys were already there, already a few rounds deep, but it wasn’t until a certain Ferrari driver walked in that you relaxed.
Charles navigated the crowd, his eyes scanning the room for any signs of you. When he spotted you at the bar, a grin spread across his face. He made his way over, squeezing through the sea of fans and drivers.
“There you are!” he exclaimed, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “I've been looking for the race winner!”
“Yeah, you’ve been avoiding me since the podium” you teased, crossing your arms
“Right, totally” He fake agreed “Now, drinks on me?”
A playful smile broke onto your lips as you turned to face the driver. “Actually, I believe it’s my turn. You got me in Monaco, it’s only fair”
Charles opened his mouth to protest, but you already had gotten the attention of the bartender. He watched as you put up two fingers, and the bartender quickly got to work. As he waited, he was able to catch snippets of chatter and laughter from the rest of the people in the bar. Logan made the trip out to Austin, and was in deep conversation with Oscar and Alex, while Max and Lando were cracking jokes about their battle during the race.
You handed Charles one of the two drinks you had received “To a dominant 1-2 finish” you toasted, clinking your glass against yours
He took a sip, the refreshing taste of the cocktail invigorating “This is really good. What is it?” He asked, looking at his drink
“Texas Cactus Water” You answered “Tequila, lime juice, and Topo Chico”
The night wore on, and with each passing drink, the atmosphere became more lively. You were in your element, charming everyone around you. You were sure to spread your attention out to everyone who came to celebrate your win, but you always found yourself going back to him.
“Want another round?” he asked after the two of you finished your drinks.
“Yeah, sure. Put it on my tab” You ordered, knowing he would have said the same to you.
As Charles approached the bar, Franco suddenly appeared by your side, a broad grin on his face. “Looks like you’ve got quite the fan club” he joked, nodding toward Charles, who was deep in conversation with the bartender.
“He’s just being nice” You replied, not wanting to think too much about the flutter in your stomach at Charles’ attention “He bought my drinks in Monaco, so I’ve been returning the favor.
Franco raised an eyebrow. “Or maybe he likes you a little more than just ‘nice’,” he said, smirking.
You chuckled, shaking your head. “Please, we’re just friends. He’s friendly with everyone.”
“Yeah, but he looks at you differently. Just saying,” Franco teased, nudging your arm before slipping away to join some other drivers.
When Charles returned with another round of drinks, he slid next to you, his arm casually draped over the back of your chair. “What’s got you smiling like that?” he asked, tilting his head with genuine curiosity.
“Oh, just Franco being... well, Franco,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant.
“Yeah? What did he say?” Charles pressed, his expression shifting to one of interest.
“Nothing important. Just... you know, how great it is to be back in Austin,” you deflected, not wanting to reveal the fluttering thoughts swirling in your mind.
Charles studied you for a moment, his brow furrowing slightly. “You sure? Because I could always tell him to back off if he’s bothering you,” he offered, his protectiveness shining through.
You laughed lightly. “I appreciate that, but really, it’s fine.”
As the night progressed, Charles seemed to loosen up even more, the drinks giving him a playful edge. He began to get a bit flirtier, leaning closer and making exaggerated gestures as he animatedly recounted his day.
At one point, he casually brushed your arm while reaching for his drink. The simple touch sent a rush of warmth through you. You could sense the tension building between you two, an electricity that was impossible to ignore.
You tried to focus on what he was saying, but the lingering sensation from his touch was hard to shake off. Each time he leaned closer, you felt that flutter in your stomach intensify, battling with the excitement of the moment.
“So, what’s your strategy for Mexico City?” you asked, hoping to redirect the conversation and distract yourself from the undeniable chemistry brewing between you
Charles grinned, his eyes sparkling. “Honestly? Just to keep up with you. I’ve seen how competitive you can be, and I want to push myself more.”
You smirked, leaning close enough in to get a whiff of his cologne “Is that so? You better be prepared for a good fight”
He laughed, the sound deep and warm, and for a moment, the world around you faded. “I’d expect nothing less” he replied. His voice was low, and you could see a flicker of something deeper in his gaze.
Just then, Max, Lando and Logan rejoined you, breaking the spell.
“What were you two whispering about?” Lando asked, a mischievous grin on his face
“Just race strategies” you said quickly, shooting a glance at Charles. The Monagasque nodded, playing along, but you could see a hint of disappointment in his eyes at the interruption
“Strategies for what? How to sneak out of here without us noticing?” Logan chimed in. You shot him a glare in response.
“Oh come on” Charles said, his eyes rolling but amusement still danced on his face “We’re just having a good time”
Max leaned in, the smell of alcohol on his lips as he smirked “Just make sure you keep it PG, yeah? Red Bull doesn’t need any headlines about you sleeping with the enemy”
You lightly punched your teammate, causing him to flinch. “I can handle my own headlines, thank you very much”
The group continued to joke and banter, but you couldn’t help stealing glances at Charles. He was laughing and enjoying himself, but every so often, his gaze would flicker back to you, that intensity returning.
As the night wore on, the playful atmosphere shifted to something more intimate when the music slowed down. You found yourself back at the bar with Charles, the noise of the party around you dimming to a soft buzz. Both of you had too many drinks, and it was evident by the conversation you were having.
“Do you ever think what happens after this?” he asked, his tone serious
You looked up at him, surprised. “After what? The day? The season?”
He hesitated for a moment, as if weighing his words carefully. “I mean, after all this. When we’re not racing anymore. What do you want?”
Charles’ question caught you off guard. It was a vulnerability you weren’t expecting. “I-” you started, then paused, choosing your words carefully. “I guess I want to keep doing what I love. Traveling, meeting new people, but also taking the time to enjoy moments like this.”
He nodded, absorbing your words. “Yeah, me too. I’ve realized these moments are what make the job worth it”
You could feel the tension building again, that electric connection almost palpable. “So what do we do about it?” you asked, your heart racing
Charles looked at you, his expression softening, and for a heartbeat, it felt like the world around you disappeared again. “Maybe we should stop pretending and just see where this goes?” He suggested, finally confronting the elephant in the room
The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip “You mean…?”
He wasn’t sure where the sudden confidence was coming from. Maybe it was the amount of drinks, or maybe it was due to your true feelings finally being on display tonight. “Yeah, I mean if we both feel it, why not explore it?”
You felt a rush of emotions - excitement, fear, hope. “I’d like that” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Before you could process what was happening, Charles leaned down, pressing his lips against yours. It took a second to kiss him back, but when you did, it was everything you had dreamed of since you first met him.
Suddenly, a loud cheer erupted from the other side of the bar, pulling you away from each other. All of the other drivers were staring at you, each pair of eyes matched with a shit eating grin.
“You wanna get out of here?” You asked
“Yeah, I’d like that” Charles said, taking your hand
======
want more? check out @coco-loco-nut's sister story below!
#charles leclerc#formula one#formula 1#f1 2024#f1#max verstappen#writing#creative writing#ferrari#franco#red bull racing#forza ferrari#ferrari f1#charles leclerc x reader#cl 16#cl16#cl16 x reader#leclerc x reader#franco colapinto#f1 imagine#f1 imagines#f1 fic#charles leclerc fic#f1 x reader#f1 x you#motor racing#f1 racing
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guys I’m sorry I know everyone loves grumpy Wolverine (and I do too) but after he and Wade get together I think he is THE biggest user of pet names ever. like Logan is a flirt (see x1 and x2) and he’s possessive as all hell (see his animal disposition) and do NOT think I forgot about him calling Mariko ‘princess’ in The Wolverine, so..
you can’t tell me that he isn’t calling Wade ‘princess’ and ‘baby’ and ‘sweetheart’ all the way to kingdom come, especially when he finds out how flustered it actually makes Wade when Logan flirts back.
like…. (accidentally wrote a ficlet below, good LORD that’s a lot of yapping for one post)
“Back from the grocery store, honey badger! Picked up those doggy diapers for our disgusting little cuntchkin that you asked me to get. Still don’t know why you said no to me just training her to pee on the neighbor’s doormat, though.”
There’s a yapping at his feet, and Wade sets the grocery bags on the counter, then leans down to rub the scabby head of the aforementioned cuntchkin. Logan is in the kitchen frying up something (smells like bacon? Wade doesn’t want to get his hopes up, but it really, really smells like bacon).
Logan takes the pan off of the stove — it is bacon, and Wade’s never been more excited in his life, not even when Gossip Girl announced their short lived 2021 reboot that immediately flopped — and wanders over to Wade, putting his hands on Wade’s hips to give him a kiss.
Wade doesn’t think he’ll ever get used to that. Some days, he can’t even believe he’s alive at all, much less that he’s alive in a world where he’s dating the god damn Wolverine.
“Thanks, princess,” Logan rumbles against his temple, arms wrapping further around Wade’s waist, keeping him there.
Wade does his best impression of a large, bald fish that just got pulled out of water and thrust onto dry land. His mouth opens, then closes, then opens again.
“Sorry, what was that?” he asks eventually.
“Thanks?” Logan says, taking a step back, confused.
“No, the other thing.”
“…Princess?” Logan tries.
“Yeah. What’s that about?”
“What, you don’t like it?”
“No! No,” Wade says, backpedaling. He loves it, he just… he just… he doesn’t know what he thought. The whole pet names thing had always been his schtick, never Logan’s. Wade becomes aware of how hot his face is, of the flush that must be creeping up over his scarred cheeks.
“Ohhh,” Logan purrs, nice and low, stepping forward again to crowd Wade against the counter. Wade’s face heats even more. “You like it, princess?”
Wade swallows. This man is going to be the death of him.
#never in my life did I believe I would be writing poolverine ficlets on tumblr dot com#but here we are#and that’s ok#to be cringe is TO BE FREE#and also I’m right. so.#poolverine#deadpool and wolverine#wolverine#deadpool#poolverine fanfiction#ficlet#deadclaws
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ok i have such a good request for you ml
i’m thinking maybe teenage james and he’s not very popular at school so sorta gets made fun of and reader is like a really popular girl on cheer and stuff so obviously she’s dating a jock and he james secretly likes her or something. Anyway i thought maybe reader and her jerk bf breakup ON prom night and James sees when he’s standing near the snack table and he really wants to do something and nervously asks her to be his prom date (even though they’re already there, idk)
i have faith in you wowza (please ignore how disgustingly horrid i wrote that out)
hihi!
maya omg ily sm this is sooooooo good you're so getting it tonight
also this pic gives off a lot of teen vibes so I thought it was rly cute and fitiing
uhhh idk what to make the readers name so its just ___
word count: 5,446
warnings: extremely toxic/abusive relationship, people get slapped twice, swearing, fluff, fighting, angsty start, happy ending
OPPOSITES ATTRACT (1980)
It seemed like I had a picture-perfect high school life, I was popular, on the cheer team, I had straight A’s, and my boyfriend was a football jock, which was every girl's dream it seemed. People at school adored me, I had beauty and brains. Though, I couldn't shake the feeling of unfamiliar eyes on me sometimes, watching me, but not in a creepy way.
The last few days have been full of excitement, as tomorrow was finally prom night, everyone had their prom dates, dresses, or suits, all of us ready for the festivities tomorrow night would bring. I was walking down the hall with my best friend Tammy, we had known each other for years and did cheer together. We were giggling and chatting when I heard a familiar voice, mixed with others and cruel laughter. It was none other than my boyfriend Darren. Tammy gave me a glance of confusion, and I just told her to shoo and let me deal with this, and she did, walking away. I quickly looked to see who he and his asshole friends were laughing at, and I saw a boy sitting on the floor, his long, curly blonde hair draping over his back and shoulders, a hurt expression on his face, watching as Darren went on to laugh and ridicule him before kicking him. I was not pleased with the sight, and I quickly approached the situation.
The boy was familiar, a past player of the football team. I didn't know his name, but I had seen him around school a lot, we had some classes together. I walked over to Darren, pushing him away from the group and the other on the floor, “What the hell are you doing?!” I asked, worried about the state of the familiar yet unknown man, searching Darren's face for any signs of regret.
“I'm putting that loser in his place, don't tell me you think he's more than that, he quit the team!” Darren yelled back at me, trying to convince me to forget about this.
I shook my head, “That doesn't mean you have to be a jerk to him!” I responded back, going to help the blonde boy off the floor, offering my hand, and he took it as he stood up.
“Are you okay? Did he hurt you? If he did I'm-” I was quickly cut off by him.
“No, I'm fine, thank you..” He responded quickly, brushing off his well-worn jeans as I scanned over his face.
“Are you sure? I'm so sorry, Darren can be a real jerk sometimes.” I added, still watching him as his eyes finally met mine. This time, they felt familiar, though in an unfamiliar way. Could he have been the one watching me?
He nodded, “Yeah, I'm fine, I promise,” He smiled at me slightly, which made me feel a little bit better. “I'm James, by the way.” James introduced himself to me.
I nodded with a small smile, “I'm ___. It's nice to meet you, James.”
Of course, I couldn't get even a simple conversation in without Darren pulling me away, grabbing me by my arm, and dragging me away like a child. I looked back at James, giving him a small wave and he did as well.
Once Darren pulled us away from the crowd and around the corner, he quickly shoved me against a locker, holding me by my shoulders.
“You think you can just talk to other guys like that? Especially shitheads like him?” He scolded me through gritted teeth.
I always hated it when he got like this, it scared me so much. “No, no, I- I'm sorry, I won't do it again,” I barely mumbled in my shaky tone.
He slapped me across the face, causing me to wince in pain and cover the impacted area, the sting growing with each second, and I could feel tears pricking my eyes.
“You better keep that promise, or else you'll be bruised way worse next time.” He threatened, pushing me back against the locker again before storming off, leaving me there as I began to cry, my mascara starting to run as I quickly headed to the bathrooms so I could hide. No one could see me, not like this. I'm considered the queen of the school, and the queen doesn't cry, right?
I quickly scurried into a stall, locking the door as I heard other students enter the bathroom. I quickly grabbed toilet paper to wipe my eyes, trying to clean up the mess I had become, trying to stop the tears that just kept coming. I covered my mouth, hearing the mumbled words of the other girls in the bathroom, waiting for them to finally leave to clean myself up.
I didn't want to go to prom anymore, not with Darren. I thought back to James, he seemed so sweet, and he was cute too. But unless I wanted to be hurt again, I wouldn't be able to speak with him, which disappointed me slightly, as he seemed like a nice guy.
As I heard the girls leave the bathroom, I quickly came out of the stall, looking at my messy face in the mirror, using water to rinse off my eyes and remove the mascara stains. I could also notice the growing red mark on my cheek, making me frown that it would be obvious, and possibly even appear tomorrow night.
Luckily, I probably wouldn't have to see any more of Darren until cheer practice, since he leaves campus for lunch. He normally watches me at practice, or at least I think he's watching me. I finished cleaning myself up, walking out of the bathroom as I wiped the last of my tears away, and headed to the cafeteria to get my lunch, which was a plain, boring salad, a diet suggested by my coach, and one forced by Darren. I don't even know what he sees in me, or what I see in him, but love is a crazy thing I guess.
I grabbed my tray, heading towards the salad bar, grabbing a paper bowl, and scooping some lettuce and tomatoes into it, garnishing it with minimal sauce and other salad additions before looking for somewhere to sit. I normally sat with my friends, and the rest of the cheer squad, searching for Tammy, but I couldn't notice or see her, but I did notice a familiar face sitting at a table, alone in the corner.
It was James. Darren wasn't here, so maybe I could go sit with him and talk, he looked really lonely, though he was always shy anyway. I headed in the direction of his table, all the way in the back, pushed into a corner.
I approached him, “Mind if I sit with you?” I asked James, who didn't notice me approaching, though he nodded.
“Uh, no, go ahead.” He responded, his voice soft and shy.
James watched as I sat in front of him, picking and mixing my salad before he spoke again.
“That guy, Darren, he didn't seem too happy about you talking to me,” He began, his voice still soft as he spoke.
I shrugged, “Oh, my boyfriend Darren, he's a bit.. Sensitive, I guess. But love works in odd ways, y’know?” I said to assure him, but it seemed it was more to assure myself instead.
James' face changed, maybe disappointment, “Darren is your boyfriend?”
I nodded as I continued to eat, “Yeah, we’ve been together for a couple of months. Do you know him?”
James shrugged with a nod, “Yeah, I was on the football team with him.”
I glanced up at James, “He said you quit the team, why was that?”
“Coach told me to cut my hair or quit the team. I didn't have much choice.” He answered with a small chuckle.
I smiled at his answer, finishing my small salad as James continued to eat his own lunch.
“Are you looking forward to prom tomorrow?” I asked James, expecting a ‘yes’ as it seemed everyone was, but with him, I don't think prom is his biggest dream at the moment.
James just shrugged, “I guess, I wasn't really planning on going, but my friend Ron is, so I'll just go to hang out with him.” He answered, though his voice did not convey a single bit of excitement.
I just nodded, “It'll be fun.” I added, getting up to put my lunch tray away, feeling James' eyes on me as I walked away. After a minute I returned, going back and sitting in front of him, looking to the side briefly, making the faint red handprint on my cheek obvious, and James watchful eyes definitely noticed.
“Hey, what's that on your cheek? Did someone hit you?” James asked, his voice worried.
I felt my stomach drop, quickly covering it up with my hand and shaking my head, “No, no, I just uh.. Fell, earlier.” I muttered quickly, my words obviously untruthful.
James clearly didn't buy it, sitting up straighter and reaching out to moe my hand, his touch gentle and caring.
“You don't get a handprint on your face from falling. Who hit you?” James carefully moved my hand away, gently caressing the slap mark, making me bite back a wince of pain.
“No one, James. I'm fine, it's nothing.” I kept denying the truth.
Even with my continued responses, James wouldn't let up. “___. No one just ends up with a red print on their face, someone hurt you. Who.” This time he demanded that I tell him, but if I did, things would be a lot worse for me, and I didn't want James to get hurt by Darren again.
I shook my head, “James, just drop it.” I sighed, and he slowly pulled his hand away, backing down to where he sat.
“Fine.” He mumbled, letting it go for now, but I could see him continue to think about it.
It was silent between us for a while, until the bell rang and we gave each other a look of goodbye, walking off to our separate classes.
LATER THAT DAY
School had finished for the day, and now I was at cheer practice. The whole day Darren was gone, a bit of a blessing for me, but I also noticed that Tammy was gone too. She probably just didn't feel well and left early, and Darren probably had a party with his friends.
I walked towards the gym where we normally practiced, expecting to see Darren in the bleachers and some of the other girls' boyfriends or siblings.
I entered the gym, hearing the squeak of sneakers on the wooden floor, noticing I was 4 minutes late. I sighed, setting my bag down as I joined the rest of the group, looking for Tammy, but I couldn't see her. Maybe she was just in the bathroom or something, so I walked up to Ashley.
“Ashley, have you seen Tammy?” I asked her, almost worried about my friend's absence.
She just shook her head, “No, not since our last class together. Why?”
I shrugged, “Nothing, thanks.”
I walked away, looking at the bleachers to also see that Darren wasn't there either. It had to be a coincidence, right?
Tammy wouldn't do that to me, we had been friends since middle school. I was probably just overthinking everything. The prom was tomorrow, and that should be what I'm focused on.
Until my coach snapped me out of my haze, grabbing my attention back to practice.
THE NEXT DAY
I awoke with a groan, stirring in my lonesome bed as my alarm clock rang. I slowly sat up, turning off the blaring machine. I sighed, the events of yesterday playing over in my mind, getting up and walking towards the full body mirror in my room, seeing that the mark Darren left had grown to a darker bruise, the faint and warped shape of his hand more obvious. I felt a sadness in my whole body, today was prom, and I'd be a mess all because of him. I looked to my prom dress I was so excited to wear, hanging on a rack, the slightly poofy, flowy baby blue dress, so beautiful, would now never be brought to its full prom night potential. I had spent months working up the money to finally get it, not to mention to heels I would be wearing with it.
I quickly got ready for school, wearing a denim skirt with a light pink sweater, quickly doing my hair, keeping it down, and working on my makeup before I could put on my shoes and head out for school.
As I drove to school, I couldn't help but wonder why Darren and Tammy were absent from cheer and lunch. Darren normally was gone during lunch, but Tammy was normally always there, sitting at the cheer table waiting for me.
And she had never missed one cheer practice, ever. This wasn't like her, but maybe she just felt sick and left early. Eventually, I shook the thoughts out of my head, my mind wandering somewhere more pleasant, James. He was so shy and sweet, though a complete opposite of me.
A guitar-playing metal head in a band, his beautiful long hair almost like a lion's mane, I couldn't help but feel a little attracted to him, even if I was in a relationship with Darren. I hadn't known James long, but he feels closer than that.
After a few more minutes of driving, I arrived at school, parking my car, and walking into the building, firstly headed to my locker, where I saw Darren hanging nearby, seeing him talk to a friend of his as I walked up to him.
“Hey, ‘you excited for prom? We're still going together, right?” I asked with a smile on my face as he broke away from his conversation, shooting me an annoyed glare.
“God, just leave me be, ____. I don't needa hear you bitch to me.” He replied coldly, ignoring my questions.
My smile quickly dropped, sighing and walking away with a frown, heading back towards my locker to grab my stuff, not paying much attention to my surroundings, my shoulder bumped into someone's arm snapping me out of my sad haze.
“Sorry, I didn-” I glanced up at the person, realizing it was James.
He quickly noticed the bruise on my face, his face changing with worry, “What happened? I want an answer this time. You don't just get a bruise like that from nothing.” James more so demanded rather than asked.
I sighed, shaking my head, “I really shouldn't be talking with you right now,” I muttered, trying to walk away quickly, leaving him hurt and confused as he followed after me, grabbing my arm.
“Hey, where are you going? Why can't you talk to me?”
I grunted, trying to get out of his hold, Darren's threat replaying in my mind. I didn't want to get hurt further, and I really didn't want James to get dragged into this and hurt as well.
“James, I can't talk to you. Leave me alone!” I grumbled, and he let go of my arm, a look of hurt and sadness on his face as he watched me walk away from him. I felt horrible for treating him like that, but I couldn't put either of us at risk.
Even after I stormed off, I could still feel his eyes on my back, heading towards class. It was like he was glued to me, unable to remove himself until I got too far into the crowd where he could no longer see me.
School was slow that day, though the classes and students buzzed with excitement over prom, smiles, and laughs with last-minute prom-posals, though I couldn't get myself to feel excited over the eventful night.
Eventually, it had reached our lunch hour, everyone heading to the cafeteria, seeing the cheer table, where Tammy actually was, and I also saw James, alone again, in the corner.
I had to talk to Tammy for a minute, even though I would've almost preferred to be with James. He looked disappointed, sad in a way, and I knew I was part of it.
I sighed, grabbing my lunch and scurrying towards Tammy and the table of other cheer members, sitting down next to her.
“Where were you yesterday? You were gone all day basically and didn't make it to cheer.” I asked, slightly worried but confused.
She just shrugged it off, “Oh, I just didn't really feel like going. I had other things and people I wanted to do instead.”
Her voice had an undertone to it, I couldn't put my finger on what it was exactly, but it was not good. She sounded snarky, and when she said ‘people she wanted to do’ I could tell something was off. I gave her an odd look, eyeing her before something caught my eye.
Hickies, on her neck. It wasn't something usual, she didn't have a boyfriend or crush or something, or at least not one that was known. She gave me a small smirk, noticing my staring.
“What? Is something wrong?” She teased rather than asked, and now everything clicked.
Why Darren was gone all day, why she was gone all day, why Darren disregarded the prom thing, why she is acting so strange.
It seemed that my world crumbled around me, my once perfect social life, shattered in just a day.
I quickly got up, not thinking to grab my food, I had lost any appetite I once had, storming towards the back of the cafeteria. I needed someone to talk to, but there was no one I could air something like this out to. I wasn't thinking much, quickly leaving through the back, but I could feel familiar eyes on me as my own welled up with tears.
James.
I ignored the feeling, running out to the empty hall and outside the school, tears streaming down my face as I wandered towards the empty school courtyard, sitting in the grass as my emotions crashed down on me, everything coming loose in my head, though clicking.
Darren had always been an asshole to me, sure, there were the good moments, but I never felt truly happy with him because he never seemed that happy with me. I loved him, so much, but all that love was now thrown away for my own best friend. He doesn't even know that I know, but I doubt he could care.
I tried wiping my tears off of my face, staining my sleeves black with runny mascara as I heard footsteps approach, glancing up, my puffy eyes meeting James.
He slowed as he came closer, sighing. “I know you want me to leave you alone, but..” He trailed off, watching me as I sniffled, shaking my head.
“No, I don't want you to leave me alone,” I mumbled, and he came closer and sat next to me.
I looked at him as I sighed, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said it, I didn't mean it.”
He shrugged, “Why would you not mean it? I'm a fuckin’ loser and you're, well, you.”
We sat in silence together for a moment, and I sniffled again as I tried to stop my tears.
“What's wrong? Or do you not wanna tell me.” He asked, and I had to tell someone, I had to tell him.
I began to cry more as I explained what happened, Darren hitting me for talking to James, the threats he made, getting cheated on with my best friends, all the toxicity of my relationship with him finally coming to light as I leaned against James, and he held me, gently wrapping his arms around me as I sobbed into his shoulder, hearing every word, cry, and sound I made, careful to listen to me in a time of hurt.
The story seemed to make James upset that that had happened to me, but it also seemed to fuel a fire in him. For the short time he'd known me personally, he seemed to care a lot already.
I eventually stopped mumbling the story as I kept crying, his worn band shirt soaked with my tears as he gently rubbed my side with his hand, his touch making me feel warm, something that Darren never could do.
“Shhhh, you'll be okay, I'm here, alright?” He said to me in a soft voice, trying to comfort me as I kept crying against him.
“You don't need that asshole, you can do so much better than him. And if she was really your friend, she wouldn't have done something so shitty like that.” He kept comforting me, the soothing motions of his hands helping me reach a calm after a good couple more minutes of crying into him, my sobs slowly stopping as I just sat there with him, in his arms.
After a few more minutes of silence, just us together, James spoke up again, “You alright?”
I just shrugged, “I don't know.. Everything just.. Crashing down around me.” I mumbled, snuggling in closer to him, my hand on his shoulder/neck area as I moved my face from his shoulder, laying the side of my face there as I looked up at him, my puffy red eyes, tear-stained and mascara-ruined face, his eyes meeting mine.
We stayed like this for a few moments, our eyes breaking contact for a moment before he spoke up again, “Class is gonna start in a few minutes. Let's go to my car and I can get you cleaned up, alright?”
I nodded, and we got up and walked together to his beat-up truck, grabbing some tissues and an old bottle of water. I sat on the edge of the truck bed, James coming up to me and dampening the tissues with water, wiping my face clean of the stains, his touch gentle and caring, my cheeks heating up slightly.
LATER THAT AFTERNOON
School was done for the day, and now I was at home, hastily getting ready for prom.
I curled my hair, making sure I looked as beautiful as possible. I did my makeup, nothing too over the top, though I was careful to night use mascara, feeling that I would probably end things with Darren tonight.
I slipped on my beautiful dress, one that hugged my features well, the poofy skirt of it flowing amazingly, and I had never felt more pretty as I slipped on my heels, admiring my glam self in the mirror with a small smile. I had never felt so gorgeous as I walked to my car, and drove back down to the school.
Darren was supposed to be my prom date, and I'm guessing he still is unless he's changing his mind and going with Tammy. I tried to ignore the thoughts, hoping that James would be there if anything went wrong.
Something about him made everything feel… right, in a way. He made me happy, even though we'd only been friends for two days.
Eventually, I arrived at the school, the parking lot packed, trying to secure a spot so I could get in without being too late.
Soon enough I found a parking space, getting out of the car and sighing, beginning to walk towards the school and into the gymnasium which had become a makeshift banquet hall, a messy, rushed dance floor in the center, loud music, balloons, streamers, lights, the full nine yards. Couples danced together, some getting too touchy, friends laughed and talked, and then it caught my eye.
Darren and Tammy. Together. Again. Except this time, they looked like they were practically making out, hands dragging across each other, lips locked as she squealed in excitement and pleasure.
I felt something in me snap, anger. I stormed towards the two, pushing Darren off of her, making him look pissed, “The fuck is your problem?” He sneered at me, pushing me back. The interaction garnered some attention from other attendees as I was pushed back by Darren.
“My problem is you're making out with my best friend!” I yelled back at him, more people watching by the second.
Darren just rolled his eyes as Tammy stayed silent, “You're just a basic whore, there's nothing to you.”
That hurt, deeply, but it only fueled my rage as I let out an annoyed grunt, my anger showing as I slapped my past friend hard across the face. She winced in pain, touching the stinging mark.
He was now beyond pissed with me, and I was even more pissed with him.
“You're a loser! I'm done with you! You think that you're all this and that because you're some fucking dumb jock, but you are just a loser!” I nearly screamed at him, feeling someone tug on my arm and pull me away, saving the three of us from experiencing a rough beating from each other.
I turned back to see who was dragging me away, and it was James. I was annoyed at first, needing to get some final words in, though I couldn't stay frustrated with him for too long, he was just doing me a favor. After we walked toward the back of the gym, he let go of me.
“You should go fix yourself up quickly. Not that you look bad, you look really pretty, but-” He paused himself, taking a breath. I nodded, walking out and into a nearby bathroom, adjusting my slightly tussled dress and fixing my hair.
I didn't look too messy, even after the mini tussle with my now ex-boyfriend. I just had to fix a few things, and I'd look as good as new, and now I do.
I took another breath, walking back into the gym, slightly sad, now alone. I couldn't see James, and I could see Darren and Tammy in a corner. The last two people I wanna be around right now. All of my other friends were messed about with their boyfriends or crushes, flirting with them.
Then it began. The slow dancing. The notes of a slow, soft love song stung my ears, and the sight of all the lovey-dovey couples who couldn't get enough of each other made me sick. I was always a sucker for romance, but I guess when you have no one to share it with, it just seems yucky.
I sighed, watching them all dance slowly with each other, debating if I should just leave or not, I had nothing to do here other than just stand in the middle of the floor, feeling jealous of truly in love couples.
I evaded my eyes from the sight, looking down at the floor, until I felt a gentle tap on my shoulder, turning my head to see who it was.
A shy, nervous blonde boy stood beside me, his long curly hair hiding his face somewhat as he held the back of his neck with a hand, “Do you uh.. Wanna be my prom date..?” James asked me softly, his eyes not meeting mine out of embarrassment and nervousness.
I smiled lightly, nodding, “Mhm, yeah. That'd be nice.” I answered, my voice also soft as a small pink crept up on my cheeks.
He raised his head, a sheepish grin on his face as he placed his hands on my waist, and I placed mine on his shoulders as we began to slowly sway to the music, our eyes meeting with a sense of familiarity.
“I'm not much of a dancer, so… sorry,” He muttered with a small chuckle, and I just smiled in response.
“That's fine. You're doing great anyway,” I reassured him, and he smiled slightly wider.
I took him in with my eyes, admiring his fresh, orderly dark grey buttoned-up blazer with matching slacks, and his little blue tie the white undershirt, his whole suit was so fitting on him, he looked very handsome, very cute.
“You look, really, really pretty tonight, I know I kinda rambled it earlier, but-” He complimented me with a smile before I cut him off.
“Thank you, you look pretty handsome yourself,” I returned the compliment, smiling up at him still as we continued to dance slowly to the music, both of our cheeks having a hint of pink to them as we looked into each other's eyes, and for a second, everything felt right in the world. Even though I hadn't known James long, I felt closer to him than I do with some longtime friends.
After another minute of dancing with each other, the slow dance had ended, though we didn't leave each other. We stood with each other, sat with each other, and just talked about so many different things.
He told me about his band, how he played guitar and did some vocal work, and told me all about his favorite bands and musicians, and I just listened with a smile on my face. His voice was calming, and he was such a fun person. I admired him with my eyes, his beautiful features filling my senses. His icy blue eyes fit his features so well, accenting his angel-like hair, and I just wanted to stroke it, he was so beautiful and very caring.
We were in the middle of a conversation about one of his favorite bands, Motorhead.
“They're this like, super heavy rock band, and their front guy, Lemmy, is a total badass! I wanna reach his heights one day. Musics has always been there for me, y'know?” He explained to me, acting almost childlike with his excitement over the topic.
I nodded with a smile, “Mhm, they sound pretty cool. Maybe you can show me some of their music sometime.” I added, hoping he would say yes. I could care less about the music, but I'd love to spend more time with him.
He nodded with a wider grin, “Yeah! Sure, I'd love to show you some of their stuff,” he responded with excitement.
I smiled again, “Good, I like that.”
Another hour or so later, prom had ended, and people began to leave the gym, heading to their cars and leaving with their partners or friends. James walked away, looking for his friend Ron who was his ride to prom and supposed to be his ride home too.
James approached me again, slightly confused and nervous, “Uhm, my buddy, Ron, he was supposed to take me home but uh, I think he took his date home and forgot about me, you mind giving me a ride back to my place? It isn't that far,” James requested, and I couldn't say no.
I nodded, “Sure, I don't mind. You wanna go now?”
“Yeah, let's get out of here,” He responded, and we began to walk out together toward my car. I got in the driver's seat, James next to me in the passenger seat as we began to drive, James giving me directions to his home, the car ride was scattered with random conversations and rapidly switching topics. One minute were talking about class, then TV shows, movies, music, friends, stores, clothes, everything.
After a good 10 minutes of random talking and directions given by James, we reach his home, my car slowing across the street from his home, giving him a glance, “The house across the street, right?” He nodded in response.
“Yeah, that's the one,” James answered, though he didn't leave the car yet. I watched him as he sat still for a second, his eyes looking down in thought before he glanced back up at me.
“I uh, I had a great time tonight, a lot better than I thought. Thank you for, well-” I cut him off, my wants giving in as I leaned in and gave him a quick, soft kiss on the lips, which surprised him, and also myself. I pulled back, staring at him to examine his reaction.
After he was silent for a couple of moments, I grew worried that maybe I did something wrong, “I'm sorry, I shouldn't-”
James just shook his head, “No, that was.. Good, I've wanted that for a while,” He answered with a small, loving smile on his face, I nodded.
“Good, I.. I liked that.” I admitted, glancing down as my cheeks heated up.
This time he leaned in, giving me another soft, gentle kiss. We pulled away after a few moments, both smiling softly and glancing at each other before James undid his seatbelt.
“Well, I should get going, I guess,” James informed with a small smile, getting up and out of the car.
“Bye, James,” I said with a smile, watching him walk away.
“Bye,” He answered with a smile as well, heading back to his home.
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next fic will be a Dave mechanix fic!!!!
#metallica fanfiction#metallica smut#j4h7#james hetfield smut#james hetfield x you#metallica x reader#james hetfield fluff#james hetfield fanfiction#james hetfield x reader
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prompt: You’re a retired S-tier supervillain. After you retired, you married a B-tier hero. You are forced back onto the stage when an A-tier villain attempts to kill your spouse. Ghost x reader
A/N: i don't know if i hate this or i like, so. it's yours to decide lmfao. especially that's a tiiiiny part that i decided to wrote bc i was bored.
Everyone wants to live happily ever after.
Not exactly a quiet life, but not too loud either. A perfect balance, where you have all the things (or almost all of them) to be happy, fulfilled in life.
Life that wanted your mother for you, before it all went down. Before you turned evil, as she liked to say.
You try to tell yourself that you deserve every inch of it, but you still miss the thrill of the hunt, blood on your hands, the way you just ruled the city like you wanted. Unbothered.
When your husband doesn’t look, you take out your mask, hidden carefully behind all those unopened cartons from your wedding. He thinks you burned all of your past, and here you are. Hiding it like a precious possession, so carefully.
It took you long enough to earn it—you don’t think you quite deserve it, but it’s nice to be a wife that can greet her husband every time he comes home from work. Every time he mentions something about you joining him, but it could be quite a laugh, you say.
A retired villain turned superhero. You’d rather die than make it happen, but that’s what your husband doesn’t know.
Well, he doesn’t know a lot of things.
For example, he doesn’t know how conflicted you are. Unconsciously, you think that you sabotage all of those happy moments. Overthinking stuff, asking yourself if you’re really in a good place, if you made a right decision; if a man is worth giving up your career.
Your whole life, if you want to be petty enough. Your whole life changed because of him—hell, you even changed in some way. Less snarkier, more laid back, so you wouldn’t be degraded to trophy wife, burned out villain in front of his friends and family.
Make them proud, he said once, before a meeting with his friends. Meeting that turned to complete disaster, heading home way earlier than you were supposed to because superhero bullshit bored and annoyed you enough.
But you tried to put up with it. Convince yourself that it is your fate, not the villain route that you chose before.
Fate hits you right in the face, when you enter your apartment to see three significant changes.
Your husband is tied like a pig on the table. Tight.
The apartment looks like a tornado went through it.
And three—
“Took you long enough.”
Yeah. That’s three.
You almost want to laugh. A bandit-like balaclava could scare a lot of people, but not you—not when you know him inside out. Not when you basically competed with him your whole life before.
Yeah. Before. Before you met your husband, before you two got married, before you decided to retire. The taste of this decision is bitter on your tongue, just like the thought that you feel excited for the first time in months because there’s potential danger. Something breaking you out of the routine.
“Normal people do groceries around this hour.” You shrug casually, taking a few steps; the intention of untying your husband falters the moment Ghost blocks your way, amused. You raise your eyebrow. “Come on—”
“—What? Scared?”
“No. But he has probably nothing to do with your business,” you point out, harshly. He lets out a scoff.
“Said that he’s gonna call cops on me. Very unfriendly behavior from a superhero, won’t you agree?” He tilts his head with a theatrical manner.
“I’d do the same,” you murmur under your nose, taking out the material that Ghost gagged your husband with. Carefully, your hand lands on the ropes, until Simon stops you.
“We have better things to do,” he says, his voice low. “Gotta step out from that wife role for a moment, ‘m takin’ you. He’s gonna do fine.”
“You’re taking me?”
“I am, yeah. A problem?” He arches an eyebrow, his grip tight on your wrist. Attacking him is useless, especially when he knows how you want to do it; he’s quick to pin you down against the counter. His front is hot against your ass—he laughs, as he’s almost able to feel your humiliation. “Won’t do anythin’ right in front of your husband, don’t worry. Or, will I?” he looks down at you, expression mocking.
“I hate—”
“Mm. Yeah, won’t do me good.”
And then, you’re out.
#seriously i want to delete this and redo lmao im just. ugh#struggles are struggling#simon ghost riley#ghost simon riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost x you#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#x reader#cod x reader#call of duty fanfic
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The Encounter of Two Flames | React | Spoilers
I think this one will be short because honestly not much really took place for these parts? BUT I'll make it fun anyways!~
So we left off with Sitri wanting to speak to Levi about something....hmmm wonder what that is
Lol so Sitri has asked him nearly 100 times to go home and that's he's ready and this man still ain't said yes. I swear Leviathan is the most stubborn devil in Hell
He even calls him a child because Sitri is asking to go back to Gehenna and graduate. LEVI PLS
97th time ya'll
Levi is just telling him he's not ready to take another class over again and comes to find out that Sitri wrote a paper on tactics and it's being used in the cadet's manual for Hades LIKE
Sitri is literally like "damn just let me go home" in the nicest way possible. The fact that Levi is still arguing with him over it instead of straight up ignoring him or hanging him means something.
"I did everything for you" looking ass. Like Leviathan would be that toxic bf that tells you that you have no right to be upset because he's been paying your bills and taking care of you.
And Sitri has asked up to 99 times now and well, Leviathan has had it
Now see this right here had me be like ah, so he can admit why he's being stubborn. He wants Sitri to stay because he sees potential in him, he's loyal, calm and doesn't show arrogance. Qualities Leviathan likes in a subordinate is what I'm guessing here.
Now Foras, babes....jealousy is hot on you lol but I kinda also feel a certain way about how Levi took Sitri in and wants him so badly and yet Foras is right there. It's kinda like the "I'll always pine for him but he'll never notice me" trope and well damn Foras no wonder you decided to throw those feelings on MC instead.
Oh. Sitri's booty again. Lmaooooo makes me think of feral Sitri out there all caked up too and how no one could get close enough to notice.
But the devils of Gehenna have to have strong butts. Satan packs a powerful kick.
I imagine the necks of Hades devils are thick for similar reasons, their King uh...lol yeah
But anyways Sitri explains that it's not that he isn't grateful, nor is he that much of hater of Hades, he's just always been excited to return to Satan. Here in Hades he learned alot including how to speak and write. He has history in Hades and always will but...
And well 100 times does the charm ya'll because Leviathan finally let him go. Sitri was so happy he started crying and that surprised everyone.
damn is like no one emotional in Hades other than Barbatos with his sunshine happiness? Lol
AND with that the flashback of how they met is over. We are back in the present where Satan has dragged Sitri back to the pond where they met and it was no longer full of blood. He brought him back to help with the memories and extinguish the fire.
Whelp he done stabbed himself again.
But there's a purpose for it. And it seems to have worked once again by taking Sitri out of his 'feral' state and bringing him back to his calm and regulated self again.
It's so touching honestly that he's back to himself and is crying and remembering what happened. I feel sorry for Sitri getting so lost in himself that he was reduced to this state. All over a mistake and bearing the weight of it.
He's very stressed and needs more rest.
Leraye is such a good guy because like the entire time during this event he was very worried about Sitri's well being and even tried to help during the initial start of the fire. And now he's rushing up to him again to reassure someone he admires and I like that.
Also, Paimon is so sweet too. Giving Sitri encouragement as well!
AWH the Gehenna bois are coming to comfort Sitri and this is just amazing. Love our bois <3
And Ooop. Seems like Sitri has some fans in Gehenna from the devils as well. Like He's so loved it's very cute to me.
So while Sitri is getting his love and support, Satan ofc is passing out from blood loss and tells Ppyong to call a healer since he can't heal himself and well-
Luci??????!!!!
RIN AND LUCI?????????
So Lucifer was like "we are quite fond of Satan" and Ppyong was confused until Rin made his little debut here in the event. That's cute!!! So PB decided to throw him in here in his humanoid form.
Interesting. I wonder if he visits Gehenna with Luci in that form often and that's why no one really knows about him just yet.
Oh no Ppyong, he heard you...he's just very shy and could possibly piss himself if he were to introduce himself as your cousin. He was probably very thrilled to see Ppyong but again just didn't want to over exert himself.
He did say he wanted to go to Gehenna at first anyways during the Lucifer event. Part of his family is there!!!
And also, we get to see Lucifer's miracle healing powers in action! Which I'm glad because I was wondering how his healing powers work. It appears they are quite instant.
Sitri's body that was exhausted and growing cold warmed up and went back to normal state, Satan is fine just passed out. Ppyong tries to say that Lucifer's connection with Satan must be deep because of how they met buttttt not quite my little red lump friend.
There you have it folks. Lucifer being as straight-forward as always lol
But we also see here that he's observing Sitri and Satan sleeping like babies/children and he's contemplating why he finds them lovely. I'm guessing he always has these kind of thoughts because ya know getting used to being in Hell and not being an angel anymore has got to be a huge adjustment.
But it's okay Luci, you find them lovely because you just do I would like to think ^^ but ofc you being you....
o v e r t h i n k i n g
Just like your brothers do....lmao
And that's done and done for these two parts! We're down to the last two parts of the story ya'll and that's it for this event!
See you at the final post :P
#whb#what in hell is bad#whb satan#whb sitri#whb gehenna#whb event#whb screenshots#jazewhbreacts🖤#oh snap luci and rin show up!
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Twistie, I love you. I love your work. What did Vaggie win for Lucifer failing the bet?
Awe!! I love you too, anonymous! Thank you so much for supporting my work. What an excellent question. I haven't really found a natural moment in the story for this, so I wrote it to answer you (below the cut). Maybe I'll make a side fic for storing cutting room floor/side story moments like this or something....
No triggers I can think of. Maybe language?
For context of those who don't know, this is a [Reader] x RadioApple fic called Witch Heart on AO3, where [Reader] is married to Lucifer and Alastor. Also, Charlie calls her mom.
🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮🌸💮
“You know,” Charlie pressed her long finger upon her chin in thought, “We should have a family outing.”
Crickets were the only ones brave enough to answer her sudden suggestion. When it didn’t seem like anyone wanted to entertain this further, [Reader] dared to ask, “What do you mean, honey?”
The acknowledgement stoked the excitable fires in Charlie’s sparkling eyes; while [Reader] drew daggers of looks from the others. “Well,” Charlie clasped her hands excitedly before herself, “that’s what families do right? They go out to a movie, then to dinner, maybe shopping, then a drive-in theatre, then they walk around the park and feed the ducks.”
“Babe,” Vaggie’s gaze fell pained, “you have a duck upstairs you don’t bother feeding…”
“That’s because Lucky is a zombie, who only lets mom close,” she retorted, “I’m talking about living ducks that don’t try and eat your fingers. And after that, we could see a movie in the park too.”
“Exactly how many films does an outing require?” Alastor raised a brow; clicking his claws upon the top of his staff. “If we wanted to be silent and ignore each other that much, we could just stay home.”
“Oh,” Charlie huffed, “c’mon! It’ll be fun! I promise.”
“Well, I’m in,” [Reader] smiled; all the brighter when Charlie grabbed her hands in an excited bounce and giggle.
“Yes!” her joy was ear to ear, “Thanks mom! I knew you’d say yes. What about you, Vaggie?”
“Do I have to come?” Vaggie sighed as Lucifer immediately snapped a sharp laugh.
“Oh yeah, sunshine, yeah you do,” his grin was payback, as his voice darkened with his features, “’Cuz those who eat the last of my Yummy Berry Boba Blastoff Yogurt, gotta pay the Yummy Berry Boba Blastoff Yogurt price…”
“Price. Hmm. Yeah. See, that reminds me,” Vaggie raised a brow to the rise and fall of Lucifer’s punishment shoulders, “You don’t get your good boy cake. You failed our bet. So, now you owe me five bucks.”
“What?!” Lucifer exclaimed as Vaggie dug her heels in the argument tighter.
“You couldn’t go four days incident free, sunshine, so pay up,” she retorted while he did his best to argue.
“But I didn’t cause an incident; an incident was caused on me!” His hands were a wild mess of movements. “There’s gotta be some kinda loophole rule for that. This is bullshit! I was robbed! Where’s the referee?! I’m filing an appeal! I wanna second opinion from a panel of my peers!”
“Hey. The rules were simple when we made the bet. Four days. No issues. You lost fair and square,” Vaggie held a ruthless calm with her hand out, “Now pay up. Five bucks. No magic. Let’s go, Lucifer.”
“Wait,” Angel Dust shook his head at this; the sheer idea making him a bundle of chuckles, “You bet the King’a Hell five whole bucks?”
“Yeah,” she replied with a sharp raise of her brow, “why?”
“Five whole smackeroonies,” Angel Dust sounded more bewildered by the syllable, “from the King. The man who has more money than most Gods combined.”
“Look. Lucifer would pay thousands of dollars for a corn chip without blinking,” Vaggie crossed her arms upon her chest, “but petty cash makes him petty and annoyed; so, he’s never carrying any. So now, he has to go stand in line at the bank to get it, because Vox-mo won’t do cash transactions below ten bucks, and I said no magic. Five bucks from Lucifer is equal to an entire week’s worth of his entertaining aggravation.”
“You’re fucking EVIL!” Lucifer shouted from across the room; already looking for Alastor in dark corners to take five dollars from—that man was always carrying cash. However, upon hearing the deal, Alastor had immediately retreated in support of Vaggie’s victory. “I’m gonna make you attend family outings of people you don’t even know for weeks!”
“Damn, toots, you were meant for Hell. Remind me to nev’a make a bet with you…” Angel Dust raised a brow; seeing the sick, elated sense of satisfaction on Vaggie’s face. A true, absolute glee as she enjoyed every single five dollar moment worth of Lucifer coming undone.
#hazbin hotel#ao3 fanfic#fanfiction#lucifer x reader#alastor x reader#lucifer x alastor#radioapple#Witch Heart#reader x radioapple#radioapple x reader#charlie morningstar#vaggie#angel dust hazbin hotel
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Hometown Glory; 1. Back to the Old House
Series Masterlist
Chapter Rating: M
Chapter Summary: Glory and Frankie, two best friends from a small town in Texas, find themselves in different places as adults. They haven't spoken in years, yet find themselves being drawn back home, searching for... something they can't quite explain. Will they be able to find their purpose back to where it all began?
Chapter Warnings and Tags: Strong language, Frankie is going through it, Someone decides it's a good idea to dip in the middle of the night, Sexism in the workplace, Unstable family dynamics.
Word Count: 8k
1995 (16 years old)
It's a school night on a random Wednesday, and you're perched cross-legged in a boy's room, a bowl of popcorn resting precariously on your lap. With a mischievous grin, you snatch the remote control from said boy, clicking it over to NBC as he groans in annoyance.
"Hey! What the hell!" he grumbles in annoyance, "Don't you know it's rude to just take a man's remote?"
"It's my night, remember?" you remind him playfully. "There's a new episode of Law and Order, and I'm dying to find out what happened with Claire!"
"Ugh, not another Drama show, that's the kind of shit my Dad watches," he drawls from above, his arm snaking around your shoulder as he reaches for a handful of popcorn. "I would rather watch something cool, like Party of Five."
You roll your eyes at his protest, a playful smirk dancing on your lips. "Come on, Frankie, let's be real here. We both know the only reason you want to watch it is because you have a huge crush on Neve Campbell," you tease, nudging him lightly with your elbow. "But remember, we made a deal, Frankie baby. Wednesdays are my night!"
Frankie flops back onto his bed, his arms crossed over his chest in a mock pout. "Fine, but I reserve the right to complain the entire time," he declares, a faint smile on his lips. "I mean, at least Claire is kinda hot-"
You playfully toss a piece of popcorn at your best friend. "Anyway, remember when we had to write that paper in Mrs. Miller's class? About what we wanted to be when we grew up?" You lean in closer, your eyes fixed on Jill Hennessy as she paces the courtroom on the screen. "Well, I wrote that I wanted to be just like Claire," you share, taking a sip of Pepsi.
"What, like a lawyer?"
"No, like an actress. Of course like a lawyer!" you exclaim. "I mean, I love to argue-"
"Not correcting you there-"
"... and, it's like, so grown up, right? She looks like someone who has her shit together, but still. I can see myself doing that!"
Frankie groans as he props himself up on his elbows, his warm breath tickling your ear. "I can totally see you doing that," he says with a chuckle, his voice close to your ear. "But hey, you're good at everything you set your mind to, Bella."
"Aw, Frankie... is that a compliment I hear? maybe I should check outside and see if any pigs are flying-"
"Very funny," he scoffs, joining you on the floor and reaching for the bowl of popcorn. "You know you're smart as hell, so I don't doubt that you can do it."
"What about you?" you ask, nudging his shoulder playfully.
"What about me?" he responds, his shoulder bumping against yours. "What do I want to be when I grow up? That's easy. I want to be a pilot."
"So, like... the military, then? Flying Black Hawks and getting everyone to safety? I always knew you had a hero complex," you tease, nudging him again.
Frankie grins, his eyes lighting up with excitement. "Yeah, something like that," he says, his voice full of wonder. "I've always wanted to serve my country, you know? And being a pilot in the military seems like the perfect way to do it. Plus, I get to carry a gun," he adds with a smirk. "Chicks dig that, you know?"
"Chicks? Frankie, I love you, but for the love of everything holy, please don't refer to women as "chicks", it's degrading-"
"Some chicks like to be degraded," he quips, cocking his head. "At least that's what the guys say in the locker room."
"Not me though," you muse, resting your head on his shoulder as he settles himself against you more, placing his arm around your shoulder. "I guess that makes me not like other girls, huh?"
You feel the slight rumble of his chest as he chuckles.
You swear you feel the ghost of his lips on your temple.
Frankie leans in, his breath warm against your ear. "No, Glory," he whispers. "You're so much more than most girls."
29 years later.
"Excuse me, I think I heard you wrong."
"No, you didn't," you retort firmly, eyeing the hefty stack of papers across from you, addressing the group of men- the partners and board members of the firm you decided to spend the last ten years of your life at seated before you. Settling back into the plush leather chair, you cross your legs with an air of confidence. "While I appreciate your acknowledgment of my ten years of hard work and the countless cases won," you pause for emphasis, casually inspecting your nails before meeting their gaze head-on, "...if it weren't for a stupid technicality, I'd be hailed as the first female lawyer in the entire state of New York with a flawless record, right?"
"Indeed, we recognize your almost-stellar track record," Nigel, the lead partner of your firm continues, glossing over your achievements like you expected, chuckling as he adjusts his suit collar. "That's precisely why we believe it's the perfect time to bring you on as a junior partner. We think you're ready."
"Junior Partner?" you echo, incredulous, your tone laced with a mixture of frustration and disbelief. "After all these years of fighting tooth and nail against men who were promoted with far less experience, after winning case after case and saving these assholes millions of dollars in alimony payments, I'm still only good enough to become a Junior Partner? Please. Please tell me you're joking." You lean forward, fixing them with a pointed stare, the intensity of your gaze daring them to justify their belated recognition.
The ten men in question, a mix of balding, beady-eyed partners and sharply dressed greying board members shift uncomfortably in their seats. The rustle of their tailored Armani suits rubbing against one another fills the room with a grating sound akin to nails on a chalkboard.
"It took me a decade to even get offered Junior Partner. How many more years until I'm considered for a full Partnership? Another decade?" you ask, your impatience seeping into each word.
"Is there something amiss?" another member of the board interjects, gesturing towards the stack of papers on the table once more. "We don't often extend promotions like this, especially to someone as green as yourself... or any woman, for that matter," he adds with a cough, a smirk playing on his lips as if he's cracked a clever joke. "Most would consider it a gift, wouldn't you agree?"
"I appreciate the offer, truly," you interject, "but I believe my worth exceeds what you're offering." Each word resonates with a sense of determination, a testament to the challenges you've overcome and the achievements you've earned in your career.
With a flick of your wrist, you push the stack of papers back across the conference table, the pages dancing in the air as the men across from you watch in disbelief. The gravity of your decision hangs heavy in the room. "I'm done," you announce firmly, the weight of your words echoing in the silence that follows.
The room fills with gasps as another suit interjects, his face flushed with anger. "I beg your pardon?!" he exclaims. "This isn't a negotiation, and it's a fair offer for someone of your talents," he spits.
You fix him with a steely gaze. "Tell me, Bill-" you retort sharply, "who's the most sought-after associate in this firm? Why do I have gold-digging socialites, cheating tech bros, and trigger-happy celebrities clamoring for a meeting with me at the front desk? Whose face is it on the news when the courts decide to rule in our favor? Certainly, it isn't any of you, that's for damn sure."
Gone is the girl from the small town off the outskirts of Austin, Texas- a former homecoming queen slash magna cum laude loved and cherished by a town that seemed so minuscule compared to the vastness and hunger of your ambition.
You were both a dreamer and a doer, tirelessly working and amassing scholarship after scholarship, grant after grant. Your sights were set on one school only: Yale. You believed that if you couldn't make it there from the start, settling for anything less wasn't an option.
"I'm gonna be like that when I grow up," you declared, flopping onto the lumpy couch as reruns of Law and Order played in the background. Your Nana, her tight, white curls peeking out from the worn brown fabric of her La-Z-Boy, glanced at you with mild curiosity.
"Be like what?" she would reply absentmindedly, her voice raspy from the years of Misty's holding constant residence at the corner of her lips. "Like an actor? Like Jill Hennessy? She's a looker, that one!"
"No, like a Lawyer," you would tease, your eyes locked onto Claire Kincaid as she takes the stand, her sneer icy, her voice strong and confident as she calmly verbally eviscerates yet another rapist, this time one of the shaky-ijustwantedtosmellher-variety, shaking like a leaf as they undergo cross-examination. "She's so fucking cool," you would whisper to yourself, the loud chuckle-cough-chuckle of your Nana as she peers at you from the corner of her eye.
"... but you're such a sweet girl!" she would retort, "how are you gonna win the case when you're so damn nice all the time? those suits would eat you alive, believe you me!"
Your voice rises steadily, like a crescendo building to a climax, until you're finally shouting. All the hurt and embarrassment you've bottled up explodes, coursing through your veins like an unstable chemical reaction. "The reason we're all still in business is because of me!" you declare, your words punctuated by frustration. "Or should I ask Bill in finance for confirmation? Maybe he's mistaken." You unclench your jaw, feeling the tension in your neck as you reach for your phone. "All those high-profile clients? They're loyal to me. If I leave, they'll follow. Think about that."
As the partners exchange bewildered looks, Nigel's discomfort is palpable as he clears his throat. "But... where will you go?" he stammers. "How do you expect to thrive in this industry without the support of a prestigious firm like ours? Besides, no one just turns their nose up at a salary increase of a hundred thousand dollars-"
"Okay, got it. So this isn't a negotiation, and there's no room for reconsideration?" You glance around the room, meeting each of their downturned gazes. Leaning back in your chair, a smirk plays at the corners of your lips as you hold their gaze.
"Oh, don't worry about me," you retort, rolling your eyes slightly. "You don't have to concern yourselves with my well-being. After all, you haven't given a damn about it throughout my entire career here, have you?"
A ripple of anxious laughter echoes through the room, mingled with the partners' disbelief at your audacity. "And just where do you plan to go?" Nigel presses.
With a knowing smile, you rise from your seat, gathering your belongings with a newfound sense of purpose. "Back to where I belong, I suppose," you declare. "Home."
You give the group of men one last nod, your expression firm. "Thank you for the offer, but I don't think this is going to work out," you say, your tone resolute. "And frankly, I've had enough of playing by your rules."
With a final flick of your hair, pin-straight and glossy like Jill, you stride out of the conference room, leaving behind the stifling atmosphere of the sleazy-suited assholes, their mouths agape, completely stunned. As the door clicks shut, you feel a sense of liberation wash over you, like a weight has been lifted from your shoulders.
Good fucking riddance, you think to yourself, walking past your colleagues, their heads bobbing up curiously from their cubicles as they watch you march away. You laugh to yourself at the sight of it, your head held high in defiance. Today marks the beginning of a new journey, one where you refuse to let others dictate your worth or your future.
Back in your corner office, tucked away at the back of the building- a spot they seemed to think was where you belonged, far away from the big boys club, you're surrounded by the familiar trappings of your professional life. The cardboard box on your desk awaits its contents – the remnants of a career spent in a firm that never fully appreciated your efforts, despite your unwavering dedication and the millions of dollars earned in your wake.
Shaking off the sting of humiliation and blinking back the tears of frustration threatening to spill, you begin the task of packing up your belongings. Your framed Juris Doctor is tossed in haphazardly, followed by a flurry of other items scattered across the surface of the box. Three framed photos: two girls, with wide smiles and pigtails, an old woman standing on the porch of a decaying home, and a group of like-looking women, the bright smiles and the promise of the endless possibility of the future in their eyes. Gone is the meticulously styled hair, now hastily tied up in a messy bun as you delve into the depths of your desk drawer. You pull out items in a flurry, tossing them into the box until your fingers come across something unfamiliar, hidden at the very back of the drawer.
Your fingers brush against something soft, and you pull out a faded friendship bracelet. Its beads are strung together to spell out a name you haven't seen in years. The memories flood back, threatening to overwhelm you as you stare at the name engraved on the bracelet.
F-R-A-N-
In an instant, you're transported back to a moment etched deep in the recesses of your mind: small hands trembling as they offer the bracelet to yours, the earnest gaze of a young boy not much taller than you. A tentative smile graces his lips as he extends the friendship offering. "You gave me yours, so I'm giving you mine... that means we're friends, right?"
You accept the bracelet with shaky hands, feeling a warmth spread through you. You smile back at the boy in front of you, his smile widening to match yours. "Right. Best friends!"
A pang of regret washes over you, mingling with a bittersweet sense of nostalgia for the friendship that once meant so much to you. With a heavy heart, you carefully place the bracelet into the box, a silent reminder of the past you've left behind.
Two Weeks later (somewhere in between New York and Texas)
"Okay, let me get this straight. They finally offer you a promotion, and that's when you decide it's the perfect time to quit? Seriously, Glory, please explain that logic to me," your sister's voice crackles through the car speakers as you navigate down the coast, taking another sip of your coffee to steel yourself for the conversation. "I'm begging you, please make it make sense. If management told me I needed to shake my ass to get a wage increase, I would say when and where. Surely, a hundred thousand dollars is a decent offer-"
"Yeah, they dangled a hundred thousand dollar salary bump in front of me, but it's not just about the money," you reply, frustration evident in your voice. "They were going to make me a Junior Partner. Junior. It's like they're saying, 'Hey Glory, you're good, but you're not quite good enough to sit at the big kids' table yet. Maybe in another decade or two, you'll get there.'"
"So what's the plan, then? You're just gonna pack up your office, leave your fancy Upper East Side condo behind, toss your shit in a U-Haul, and hightail it back to Nowheresville, USA? You're seriously going to start your firm in a place you swore up and down and to the heavens above that you'd never return to?" Your sister's incredulous voice echoes through the phone as you navigate the winding roads back to your hometown. "As much as the kids and I would love for you to finally be around, shouldn't you be aiming a bit higher than Fredericksburg? There's nothing here-"
You bite the inside of your cheek, the sharp pain making you wince as the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth. Relax, you tell yourself. She's right. You should be aiming higher.
"And don't even get me started on that rundown old house that Nana used to live in. Seriously, Glo, you're going to live in that dump? I wouldn't touch that place with a ten-foot pole, let alone live in it. It's a fucking money pit! You'll lose more money than what it's worth!" she snarks, chuckling to herself. "I know that it was all fun and games, talking about how you were gonna fix up that place, make it your forever home, but that was when we were kids! That place barely has a functioning roof!"
"Well, you must read minds, then." you retort dryly. "Sister, I think that you should think about becoming a psychic, because how did you know?" you sing-song back. "Besides, don't you have a guest room in that place of yours? I remember you asking me very nicely to help you out with the reno you did a few years back as a wedding gift, doesn't that mean that the room is mine if I ever needed it?"
There's a weird, awkward silence that suddenly fills the cab of the U-Haul, and you swear you can hear the gears turning in your sister's brain as she processes the implications of your words, holding your breath as you can feel the wrath that is sure to follow next. You appreciate how predictable your sister always was, knowing damn well that if you had told her that you were actually telling her the truth about your plans on returning home, she would try with every fiber of her being to convince you not to.
"There's nothing here for you, Glory. Nothing but heartbreak and the skeletons that have gathered dust in your bedroom closet. You've always been better than this little old town..." You remember her drunkenly telling you over FaceTime as you down your third glass of Pinot Grigio, your eyes fixed on the blue light radiating from the screen of your MacBook.
Congratulations, the email read. The buyer has accepted your terms, and is expected to move in shortly-
"No, Glo-" she starts.
"The condo sold for over market value-" you offer, a thinly-veiled attempt to try to reason with her.
"Wait. Are you fucking telling me that you're in a U-Haul driving back home? and you're only telling me this now when I haven't even had time to clean out the guest room?! You know how I get when things are left to the last minute-"
"Relax, I'm not going to crash at your house, not when Andrew doesn't know, I've already booked a month at the Hyatt in Austin while I square away the final plans for the house. Think of it this way, if you ever need a place to stay after another one of your husband's benders, you could always sneak away to the hotel room, now that I'll finally be close by. Plus, Hank told me that there's a vacant storefront on Main Street, It's a perfect spot to open the firm-"
"It's just..." Your sister's voice trails off, her chuckle sounding forced. "You always seem to have impeccable timing." There's an odd tension in her tone, a hint of something unsaid lingering between you.
"Impeccable timing, huh?" you prod, sensing there's more to her words than she's letting on.
But before you can dig deeper, she interrupts with a hurried excuse. "Hey, I'd love to chat more, but I've got to run. We'll catch up later, okay? Call me when you get to the hotel, we can grab lunch or something with the kids-"
"Hey, what did you mean about impeccable timing?" you press curiously.
"I gotta go love you byeeee-" she says hurriedly, cutting the phone call.
You're left staring at your phone, a gnawing sense of confusion settling in your gut. Something about her sudden evasiveness doesn't sit right with you, but you push it aside for now, focusing on the road ahead as you continue your journey back home. "Love you too, I guess."
You continue to drive throughout the night, the 26 or so hours that the GPS has estimated your trip to be, refusing to stop for anything other than gas and the occasional bathroom pit stop, grabbing yourself a Buc-ees t-shirt for shits and giggles to commemorate your arrival, breathing a sigh of relief as you eye the “Welcome to Texas!” Sign out in the distance, its surface illuminated by the purple skies of early morning.
"Not much longer," you reassure yourself as you nibble on a sad-looking fruit bowl and sip lukewarm water in the Buc-ee's parking lot. Between bites, you check the time on your phone, swiping away the occasional concerned email from your former associates at the firm.
You raise your phone, capturing the Buc-ee's sign in the distance with your camera app. The empty parking lot reflects the loneliness that has become all too familiar in your adult life.
It's not like I meant for it to be this way, you muse silently, drafting a caption for the photo. "Homeward bound, just a few more hours!" You type out as you hit upload, sharing the moment on your Instagram feed.
As you enter the city limits of the small town you once called home on the way to the Hyatt, you can’t help the wave of nostalgia that suddenly washes over you. You can't help but smile as you pass by familiar landmarks – the public library where you would spend countless hours buried in books, the little Italian place with your favorite lasagna, still in the corner where all of the birthday dinners would be held, the bustling mall, still bursting at the seams with teenagers and young families alike, a place where you and your best friend used to gossip about boys and clothes and how much you hated Mr. Frankel constantly staring at your tits over scoops and cones of ice cream, the shrillness of your combined laughter ringing throughout your ears.
Ex-best friend, you remind yourself bitterly, your knuckles turning white as you clutch the steering wheel. It's a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that the one person you would never think would betray you ending up with the guy you once harbored feelings for. The guy. They probably have a picture-perfect life now, living in some military town with a gaggle of kids, the sound of their laughter echoing in your mind like a haunting melody.
As you drive through the familiar streets of your hometown, memories of you and him start to slowly flood back into your consciousness – lazy afternoons spent together, whispered secrets shared under the shade of a tree. But now, those memories are tainted with a bittersweet ache, a reminder of what once was and what could have been.
You can almost see him now, running around the backyard with their children, his laughter mingling with theirs as they play. The image is both heartwarming and heartbreaking, a painful reminder of the love you lost and the friendship that slipped through your fingers.
With a heavy sigh, you tear your gaze away from the fleeting fantasy, focusing instead on the road ahead. It's time to move forward, to let go of the past, and embrace the uncertainty of the future. But as you drive away, a part of you can't help but wonder – what if things had been different?
As you navigate the winding streets, you can't help but feel a sense of belonging wash over you. This may not have been the life you planned, but somehow, returning to your roots feels like coming home in more ways than one.
After a few more hours of driving, you finally pull up to the Hyatt, grateful for the chance to stretch your legs and unload your belongings. The luxurious lobby offers a stark contrast to the worn-out upholstery of your car seat. With a sigh of relief, you drop off your bags in your room before heading back out onto the road.
As you pull up to your Nana's old place, you can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with apprehension. The once-charming house now stands in complete disrepair, its paint peeling and windows boarded up. Standing outside the weathered front door, you can't help but shake your head.
"Welcome home, Glory," you mutter to yourself, the words carrying both resignation and determination. With a deep breath, you unlock the door and step inside, ready to face whatever challenges lie ahead.
Frankie, two weeks before your arrival.
Frankie forgot how fucking hot it was in Texas.
With a heavy sigh, he turns off the ignition of his truck and gazes at the house he hasn't seen in the last few years. The weathered paint job catches his eye, the deep cracks spiderwebbing across the exterior walls. Once-bright white has faded to a tired tan, and a single bright blue shutter still hangs slightly askew from his bedroom window.
"Shit Frankie, do you think your pop is gonna kill me for that?" The voice seeps into his thoughts, unbidden. He shuts his eyes tight, battling against the memories he's long kept buried deep in the recesses of his brain.
His ears catch the familiar sound of tinkering echoing from the depths of the carport beside the house, still cluttered with dismantled shells and rusty car parts. He recognizes the soft grunts of his father as he works on yet another car he decided to fiddle with probably after spotting it abandoned on the roadside.
I've been gone for more than twenty years, and yet, it feels like nothing has changed, he muses to himself, shaking his head in disbelief.
Frankie lets out a groan as he swings open his car door. His legs feel like lead, knees protesting from the strain of hours spent behind the wheel. He's just made the long haul from his actual home in Florida, leaving behind his daughter and the life he's built there for the last fifteen or so years.
Or tried to, at least.
The notion of divorce loomed over Frankie's thoughts like a persistent shadow, coloring every interaction with his wife. Even in the mundane moments of their daily life, he couldn't shake the feeling of their impending separation. It was as if they were constantly tiptoeing along the edge of a cliff, one wrong step away from falling into the abyss of divorce.
He found himself distancing emotionally, a subconscious defense mechanism against the possibility of heartache. Small disagreements turned into major rifts, each argument fueling the belief that their marriage was irreparable. He couldn't help but imagine a life without Chelsea, even as they sat across from each other at the dinner table or shared a quiet moment on the couch.
The weight of his doubts pressed down on him, clouding his perception of their relationship. Frankie had never truly loved his wife; their relationship was born more out of convenience and familiarity than genuine affection. He often wondered if Chelsea sensed his lack of affection, if she felt the absence of passion and connection that should have been the foundation of their marriage.
Guilt gnawed at him, knowing that he had never given Chelsea the love she deserved. He had entered into their marriage with a sense of obligation rather than devotion, and now he was trapped in a cycle of discontent and disillusionment. Divorce had become more than a possibility; it had become a constant companion, lurking in the shadows of their marriage.
Fuck. She never stood a fucking chance.
So, with a heavy heart and a mind full of fucking turmoil, he'd packed up his car and hit the road, effectively abandoning his wife and kid like a fucking coward, driving with no destination in mind until he found himself back in the town where it all began.
Frankie's chest tightens at the memory of Lily's desperate pleas, her small face etched with fear as she begs him not to leave. He had thought he was being discreet, tiptoeing past her room, his rucksack slung across his back. Pausing in the dim light, he takes a long look at his daughter, knowing he might not see her again for some time. "I love you, baby girl," he whispers, his voice barely audible as he gently closes her door, the click echoing in the quiet hallway.
He pushes open the door leading to the garage, grateful that he had the foresight to leave the garage door open earlier in the evening. It was a calculated move, part of his plan to make a quiet exit from this house that never felt like a home. He had thought about his grand escape throughout dinner that night, opting to remain silent as he tuned Chelsea out, her words of her displeasure falling on deaf ears as he nodded in agreement, cutting into his meatloaf as he slouches himself down his chair.
Lousy, lazy husband. Neglectful and absent father. The biggest disappointment and regret of her fucking life. Coward. Fucking Coward.
Ah, there it was.
I bet you wish that it was her, huh? I bet you wish that it was her pussy that you were fucking instead of mine, right Frankie? Chelsea would accuse, her hand motioning for him to pass over the mashed potatoes in the same breath.
Hell. She isn't wrong.
He thought his plan was about to unfold smoothly, exhaling a sigh of relief as he set his rucksack in the bed of his truck. Then, he heard it—the unmistakable creak of a door opening, followed by the soft padding of feet on concrete, drawing closer from behind. With a heavy heart, he closed his eyes, bracing himself for the pain he knew was coming.
"Daddy?" his daughter's sleepy voice broke the silence of the darkened garage. "Where are you going?"
Frankie's heart sank at the sound of Lily's voice, her innocent question piercing through his resolve like a knife. He turned around slowly, his eyes meeting hers in the dim light filtering through the garage.
"Lil, sweetheart," he began, his voice catching in his throat as he struggled to find the right words. "I... I have to go away for a little while." His chest tightened with every word, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders.
"Why?" Lily's voice trembled with confusion and fear, her small frame shivering in the cool air of the garage. She took a hesitant step closer, her eyes searching his face for answers.
Frankie knelt down in front of her, his heart breaking at the sight of her tear-filled eyes. "It's... it's complicated, baby," he said softly, reaching out to gently brush a strand of hair away from her face. "But I promise, I'll come back for you. I love you so much, Lily. You're my everything."
Lily threw her arms around his neck, burying her face in his shoulder as she sobbed. "Please don't go, Daddy," she pleaded, her words muffled against his shirt. "I need you."
Tears pricked at Frankie's eyes as he held his daughter close, his own heart breaking with every second that passed. But he knew he had to go, for both of their sakes. With a heavy heart, he gently pulled away from Lily's embrace, pressing a kiss to her forehead.
"I'll always be with you, sweetheart," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion. "I promise. I'll come back for you, but you have to stay with Mommy for now, okay? I swear I'll come back for you."
As he stood up and turned away, leaving Lily behind in the garage, Frankie couldn't shake the feeling of guilt that weighed on him like a lead weight. But deep down, he knew that he had to do this—to find a way to be the father Lily deserved, even if it meant breaking both of their hearts in the process.
His throat tightens as he relives that moment, the memory etched vividly in his mind like a relentless nightmare. He can still see Lily's tear-stained face, her eyes pleading with him not to leave, her small hands reaching out for him as he walked away, the way her small form looks back at him as he looks at his rearview mirror, getting smaller and smaller as he drives out of the cul-de-sac like a fucking coward. The weight of her despair presses down on him like a vice, suffocating him with guilt and remorse.
Frankie silently makes his way over to the carport, his father's familiar silhouette outlined against the fading sunlight. He watches as his dad tinkers away, lost in his own world of gears and grease. With a smirk playing on his lips, Frankie leans against the doorframe, soaking in the scene before him.
"When I left, I was saying goodbye to a pair of feet under a fender, and I come home years later and it's like you haven't moved an inch," Frankie quips, his tone laced with affection and a hint of disbelief. "Are you sure you ain't dead under there, old man?"
His dad chuckles, a deep, rumbling sound that fills the air. "Nah, still kicking, just like always," he replies, not bothering to look up from his work. "You, on the other hand, look like you could use a good night's sleep."
Frankie rolls his eyes, but there's a warmth in his chest at the familiar banter. Despite everything that's changed, some things remain constant – like the easy camaraderie between a father and son, even after years apart.
Frankie's dad finally emerges from under the car, wiping his hands on a greasy rag as he beams at his son. "Well, well, look who's finally back home, a child of mine finally appears!" he says with a grin, opening his arms for a hug.
Frankie steps forward, enveloped in his dad's embrace, the familiar scent of motor oil and sawdust washing over him. "I'm your only child, Dad, or did you forget?" he teases, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
His dad chuckles, patting Frankie on the back. "No, son, I didn't forget," he replies with a twinkle in his eye. "But you always knew who my favorite was."
Frankie nods solemnly, his eyes squinting in the distance, not wanting his mind to go there. He clicks his tongue. "So-"
"I assume that your sudden appearance has something to do with that wife of yours screaming into my voicemail about you abandoning your family in the middle of the night?" his dad asks, a hint of concern lacing his words as he studies Frankie's expression.
Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders slumping as he meets his father's gaze. "Yeah, Pop," he admits, running a hand through his hair. "Things with Chelsea... they haven't been working for a while now. I couldn't stay there anymore. I had to get out."
His father's expression softens, concern etched into his features. "And what about Lily? How's she taking it?" he inquires, his voice laced with worry as he thinks of his granddaughter.
"Yeah, she was torn up about it," he admits, his voice heavy with sorrow. "But I couldn't just take her. Chels would accuse me of kidnapping, and you know how the courts always side with the mother. I can't risk getting arrested again. Not after what happened last time."
"Well, that seems about something she would do, I guess," his father surmises, "... but what the hell are you doin' back here? I swore the last time I saw you, you told me you would never step your foot back here, especially with what happened with Glory-"
Frankie cuts him off, his jaw tensing as he steels himself against the memories threatening to resurface. "Look, Dad, let's not go there, okay? It's been years, and I've moved on, she's moved on," he says, his tone firm. "I'm just here to figure things out, clear my head. I don't need to worry bout no skeletons in my fucking closet, especially when I know for a fact that she ain't here no more to spook me."
Frankie's dad pauses, his gaze distant for a moment before he speaks again. "You know, son, I always loved her like my own," he says quietly, his voice tinged with regret. "She was like family to us, and seeing her leave was one of the hardest things I've had to witness. It broke my heart, and I know for a fact that it broke yours, too. Maybe if she had stayed... you wouldn't be here standing on my front lawn, hiding from your wife."
Frankie's chest tightens at his father's admission, a pang of guilt gnawing at him for the pain he caused. "I know, Pop," he replies softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I wish things had turned out differently."
"Yeah, well... shit happens, I guess." His father slaps his hand on his shoulder once more, motioning towards the house. "Come on, I got a pot of Chili that’s been simmering for the last few hours, I reckon it should be ready right about now. Go grab your shit and come help me set the table after you get settled, alright?"
Frankie nods, giving his father one last smile as he makes his way back to his pickup truck, slinging his military-grade duffle over his shoulder. Groaning, he makes his way up to the old house, the floorboards of the patio creaking as he opens the front door, the smell of his father's chili wafting in the air. He takes in the familiar sight of his living room, still the same as he left it all the years ago.
The same lumpy couch, the imprint of his father forever immortalized in his spot where he watches reruns of Pawn Stars and Columbo, greeted Frankie as he stepped into the living room. The faded fabric sagged under his weight as he lowered himself onto it, memories flooding back with each creak of the worn-out springs.
As Frankie's gaze shifted to the mantle, he couldn't help but notice the familiar photos arranged there. His eyes lingered on the one of him and his mother, her radiant smile captured forever in the frame. Beside it was a picture of you and Frankie as kids, arms wrapped around each other in a tight embrace, the innocence of youth reflected in your beaming faces.
Frankie's breath caught in his throat as he noticed a new addition to the mantle – a photo of you and his father in front of the Christmas Tree at Rockefeller Center. His father's arms were proudly slung around your shoulders, and both of you wore wide smiles that reached your eyes. It was a moment frozen in time, capturing a bond that had evidently formed in his absence.
"Well, what are you doing just sittin' there? Table ain't gonna set itself."
Frankie rolls his eyes at that. Yep, shit hasn't changed a bit. "Placemats still in the same drawer?"
"Unless someone moved them, which I highly doubt, being that it's just been me in this house for the last fifteen years," his father replies with a weary sigh, retrieving a steaming casserole dish from the oven and setting it on the stove. "Made some of that cornbread you like so much too," he adds with a wink. "Your Mama's recipe, not that boxed shit."
As they arrange the table settings, Frankie's father casts a cautious glance at him, a hint of concern in his eyes. "So, besides your marriage, How's everything going, son?"
Frankie lets out a heavy sigh, his shoulders sagging as he carefully places the silverware beside each plate. "Could be better, Dad. Could be a lot better."
His father's expression softens with understanding. "I heard about what happened. You doing okay?"
Frankie nods, though the weight of his recent troubles still hangs heavily on him. "Yeah, I'm managing. Just trying to figure things out."
His father places a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You know, son, we all make mistakes. What's important is how we learn from them and move forward."
Frankie meets his father's gaze. "Thanks, Dad. I appreciate it."
His father's fork hovers awkwardly over his plate, his gaze fixed on the food as if it holds the answers to questions he dare not ask. "Dig in, for fucks sake. Don't let it get cold."
Frankie senses an opportunity to steer the conversation elsewhere, away from the awkwardness. "Hey, Pop," he begins, trying to sound nonchalant, "I couldn't help but notice that photo on the mantle. Is it new?"
His father pauses, then looks at him, a flicker of surprise crossing his face before he answers, "The one from New York? Yeah, it's recent."
"How recent?" Frankie probes further, his curiosity piqued.
His dad casually tears off a piece of cornbread and dips it into his chili, shrugging. "About three months ago," he replies, his tone casual. "Why do you ask?"
"I'm just surprised, that's all," Frankie says with what he hopes is casual, stabbing his spoon into his bowl, pushing the pieces of beans and corn around, refusing to make eye contact with his father who is surely gazing back at him with the quirk of his brow. "Wasn't aware that the both of you were still close," he mumbles, the sight of your bright wide smile feeling like death by a thousand cuts straight into his jugular. “Never thought that you would actually leave this fucking place, let alone go to New fucking York.”
"Well, we haven't stopped being close, son. Did you know that she sends me a bottle of tequila every year on my birthday? Noticed the difference in quality as the years gone by, she's doing quite alright up there in the big 'ol apple." Frankie hears his father make a noncommital snort as he continues to eat. “Besides, she asked me to visit her the last time she was in town, and I ain’t getting any younger, have to enjoy life somehow, right?”
You still remembered his father's birthday. Do you still remember his? he wonders silently.
He strains his eye at the label of said tequila bottle, near the center of the dinner table. José Cuervo 250 Aniversario. Twenty-one hundred off the shelf, easy. A soft snort escapes his lips, shaking his head. Well, at least you still remembered your shit.
"You know, she's one of those lawyers that deal with family stuff," his father muses, chuckling to himself as he gets that gleam in his eye when he realizes he has a (stupid, but convenient idea). "Maybe you should-"
“No.”
“I could even be the one to call her, I know she won’t say no to me-“
“Pop-“
“She’s still single, you know.”
“I don’t know what her being single has to do anything with my divorce-“
“She never really got into anything serious, at least she never told me… but I knew. She was too busy for it, you know? Too distracted. Told her she should stop playing ball with the boys and start her own firm back here."
Frankie's father continued, a wistful tone creeping into his voice as he reminisced. "She always had that fire in her, just like her grandma. I remember when she was just a kid, always standing up for what she believed in, never backing down from a challenge. That girl could argue her way out of anything."
Frankie listened quietly, his mind racing with memories of Glory's fierce determination. Despite their differences, he couldn't deny the admiration he held for her unwavering spirit.
"Yeah, well, she's probably forgotten all about this place," Frankie muttered dismissively, though a small part of him hoped it wasn't true.
His father's gaze softened, a hint of sadness flickering in his eyes.
"Maybe. But some things, some people, they never really leave you, no matter how far you go."
"Why settle for Fredericksburg when she's killing it up there?" Frankie says bitterly, his frustration palpable. "She's made it clear that there is nothing for her here besides her sister, and her Nana has been gone for a while now. This place is a shithole, honestly."
"If it's such a shithole, then why the fuck are you here then?" his father challenges, his irritation evident as he stabs his salad with more force than necessary. "It might not be fancy like New York or as interesting as Tampa, but it's your home, son. It's her home, too."
"Well, I'm glad to know that you still gave a damn about somebody after all these years," Frankie retorts quietly. "... and here I thought I was your actual child-"
"What do you want me to say, huh? I feel like you're trying to insinuate something here, son, so just be a fucking man for once and spit it out!"
"Why didn't you visit me, huh? If you had so much time on your hands, why her and not me?"
"What, so I could bear witness to the shitshow that's your marriage? Do you think I like watching you suffer?" his father shouts, slamming his fork on the table. "Your wife can barely stand being in the same room as me! I ain't gonna waste my time spending it with people who clearly don't want me there."
"Well maybe if you didn't find the need to compare her to Glory all the damn like you did, maybe she would have made my life a fuck of a lot easier, don't you think?"
His father's expression shifts, a mix of surprise and guilt flickering across his features before settling into a resigned acceptance. "Son, I never meant to make things harder for you," he starts, his voice softer now, devoid of the earlier hostility. "But you gotta understand, Glory was special. She was... different. And I know I shouldn't have let that affect how I saw your wife, but I guess old habits die hard."
Frankie's shoulders tense as he absorbs his father's words, a bitter taste lingering in his mouth. "Well, you certainly made it clear where her place was in your eyes," he mutters.
His father sighs heavily, his gaze dropping to his plate. "I know, son. And I'm sorry for that," he says, his tone laced with regret.
Frankie's jaw clenches as he struggles to contain his frustration. "Yeah, well, easier said than done," he grumbles, his gaze flickering to the tequila bottle on the table, a stark reminder of the divide between them.
His father rises from the table, his movements slow and deliberate, as if weighed down by the gravity of their conversation. "I'm heading to the bar," he announces quietly, his voice tinged with resignation. "Don't wait up for me."
Frankie scoffs under his breath, his frustration bubbling to the surface. "Typical," he mutters, bitterness seeping into his words. "Always running away when shit gets dicey. Coward."
As his father reaches the door, he pauses, casting a sorrowful glance back at Frankie. "Takes a coward to know one, son," he says softly, the words heavy with unspoken regret. Then, without another word, he slips out into the night, leaving Frankie alone with his thoughts.
With a frustrated grunt, Frankie snatches the tequila bottle from the table, his movements rough and unceremonious. He doesn't bother with a shot glass, instead opting to take several swigs straight from the bottle. The fiery liquid burns as it travels down his throat, but he hardly notices it amidst the tumult of emotions swirling inside him.
"Fuck," he curses. "Welcome home, I guess."
Clutching the bottle tightly, he trudges up the stairs to his bedroom, the weight of the day settling heavily on his shoulders. As he disappears into the darkness of his room, the only sound that fills the empty house is the quiet echo of his footsteps on the creaking floorboards.
Series Taglist:
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#fic: hometown glory#pedro pascal#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales#hometown glory#frankie 'catfish' morales#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales x you#frankie catfish morales#francisco catfish morales#francisco morales#frankie morales x reader#pedro pascal fandom#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal characters fanfiction#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier
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IOTA Reviews: Action
So, this is a interesting one to talk about. Not only is this the first episode in all five seasons to not be written or directed by Thomas Astruc in any capacity (though the other three writers on his team, Melanie Duval, Fred Lenoir, and Sebastien Thibaudeau still wrote this one), not only is it not connected to the ongoing plotlines of Season 5 in any way, but this episode was made with the help of the Breteau Foundation.
For those who don't know, the Breteau Foundation is an organization that works together with schools by giving children access to technology for their lessons, helping them with their psychological needs, and teaching them about ways to protect our environment. This episode was even made available on the Breteau Foundation's website for free in addition to educational materials meant to teach kids about recycling.
Yeah, when we were kids, we got excited whenever the teacher played an old episode of The Magic School Bus or Bill Nye the Science Guy in class, but nowadays, TV shows are producing episodes of their shows specifically so they can be shown in class. And I'm not talking about those half-assed science lab worksheets with pictures of SpongeBob on them either.
The point I'm trying to make is that there was clearly a lot put into this episode, and it's all for a good cause to help teach children about how to protect the environment in order to ensure a better future... and of course, I'm still going to make jokes about it, because I'm just some schmuck on the internet who isn't backed by a major educational foundation.
Let's get into the 27th episode of Miraculous Ladybug's fifth season: Action
We start off with Marinette and Adrien heading over to the Liberty so they could be told about the pollution in the Seine River by their class' resident environmental activist, Myl—Nino, I mean, Nino. No joke, Nino gets more lines in this episode than Mylene does, even though ever since Season 2, Mylene has been established as the one to protest polluting the environment. I get that she already had a lot of screentime in an earlier environmental episode (Mega Leech), but why would you have Nino be the one to help spearhead this protest instead of Mylene? Hell, the plot of another episode started from him trying to get him and his friends out of helping Mylene plant trees for the environment (Party Crasher), so this makes even less sense.
I should also get this out of the way by pointing out a few continuity errors in the episode. For one thing, Marinette is stuttering around Adrien when she had mostly gotten over that issue after “Derision”, Kagami is now one of the avatars for the Alliance rings, something that had been established in “Revelation”, and the episode mentions that the Alliance rings are made of plastic when the season finale shows that they're actually made of metal. I don't want to harp on this too much, as this episode obviously wasn't meant to really tie into the main plotline so it would be easier for kids who aren't familiar with the show watching this episode, seeing how this was meant to be viewed as a standalone story. Besides, compared to other plotholes in the show like the ones I'll cover next time, these are fairly minor.
Nino tells Marinette and Adrien, and by extension, the audience, that the Seine River is full of pollution, and the Liberty has recently been converted into a makeshift water treatment plant. The problem is that with a recent increase of plastic in the Seine, it's becoming harder for the Liberty to filter out all of it. Hey, here's an idea: Maybe don't set up your homemade water treatment plant in the longest river in Paris.
The reason for all the new plastic comes from a recent ad campaign promoting some vending machines that sell these paper fans that were designed by Gabriel and are sold by a man named Bertrand King, who looks like a cross between Willy Wonka and Colonel Sanders, down to having a southern accent in the English dub.
Nino suggests that Adrien talk to Gabriel himself, but as usual, Adrien doesn't think he'll listen, so the kids decide to go to Bertrand King's company while picking up an order for plastic containers for the Dupain-Chang bakery... even though I'm pretty sure most bakeries store pastries in paper instead of just plastic.
Nino has the others dress up in disguises, but like most of his plans this season, it fails miserably, so Marinette comes up with a little story about Adrien meeting up with Bertrand. The kids make an impassioned presentation to Bertrand, asking him to help change the way he operated his business like making his fans out of more biodegradable materials. Surprisingly, the man whose entire livelihood revolves around selling plastic doesn't want to listen to the people saying everything his company is doing is wrong.
Bertrand: This is all intentional. It's the wonderful cycle of throwing away and buying again that makes my fortune. If people didn't throw away and buy new items again then I, Bertrand King, would no longer be the King of Plastic! So, there is no way any of this is changing.
Wow, a rich person in Miraculous Ladybug turning out to be a total jerk? What an unexpected turn of events.
Bertrand points out how much plastic is used in everyday society, using pens and the Alliance rings as an example, and seeing how we cut to the next scene afterwards, we can assume he had them thrown out. Oh, come on, you couldn't even parody The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air like you did during “Migration”? The kids then try to go to Andre and Gabriel for help protesting the fans, but because one's a corrupt politician and another helped make them, they won't do a thing. Marinette tries to ask Nadja, the local news anchor, but because the ad revenue from Bertrand's company funds the channel she works for, she can't do a thing or else she'll be out of a job.
This leads to the kids deciding to do the sane thing and HACK THE NEWS BROADCAST SO THEY CAN MAKE A SPEECH ABOUT POLLUTION.
Because it's not like Marinette and the others could have just gone to another news network with this story or uploaded it to the internet instead, right? And sure, scowl at the camera while you're giving this presentation too. That won't make you look like a bunch of eco-terrorists at all. The kids give a presentation about how dangerous plastic is, and how people can use fans made of more biodegradable materials like bamboo instead. Also, we get cameos from Jess, Aeon, and Fei, but they're pretty much there just to remind viewers that the New York and Shanghai specials happened.
Of course, the episode's following RWBY Volume 8 logic, so rather than view them as a bunch of lunatics who hijacked a news broadcast, the public immediately turns on Bertrand's company, arguably faster than what happened with Andre in “Mega Leech”. Speaking of, Andre and Gabriel change their opinions to make themselves look like they were always against Bertrand, and seeing how this episode aired after Season 5 ended, didn't really sit too well with viewers.
Bertrand calls out Gabriel for lying, but Gabriel doesn't care, secretly using this as an opportunity to akumatize Bertrand into King of Plastic through his pen.
King of Plastic has a pretty underwhelming design. It's clear that the intent was to make him look like plastic, and there is a noticeable reflection on his body, but other than that, it doesn't really fit the anti-plastic moral. I think maybe if they did more to make his movements seem more stiff like a living doll, or at least make him look less like he's made of candy, it could work more. The Miraculous power this time is the Bee Miraculous' Venom, which he can use through one side of his lance to stun any victims so he can use the other side to turn them into plastic statues. It's sort of like the dollmaker episode of Arrow, only we don't get to hear the sound of anyone's esophagus hardening.
King of Plastic makes short work of Andre and the local police squad, and Adrien is forced to put teaching Marinette Mandarin on hold so he can transform into Cat Noir, while Marinette transforms into Ladybug as soon as she's alone. After he transforms Adrien's bodyguard into a plastic statue, King of Plastic fights Ladybug and Cat Noir, eventually transforming Cat Noir's staff into plastic too. Even though he was originally akumatized to get revenge on Gabriel, King of Plastic leaves the Agreste Manor and heads to the Liberty to get revenge on Marinette and Adrien's friends instead... for some reason. Even the episode points out how weird this is.
Cat Noir: Didn't you want to take revenge on Gabriel Agreste?
Ladybug: He probably has more than one enemy.
After following King of Plastic there with Cat Noir, Ladybug summons her Lucky Charm, getting a plastic bag. Because it's already made of plastic, it can't be transformed, which gives Ladybug an idea. She tells Alya to activate the Liberty's water treatment function, intentionally overloading it before Cat Noir Cataclysms the engine. This jettisons the collected plastic and overfills the deck of the Liberty, trapping King of Plastic so Ladybug can break his lance. So in an episode meant to teach kids about how dangerous plastic is, the day was ultimately saved by plastic. I'm sure that won't confuse any kids watching this in class.
Ladybug de-evilizes the Akuma, tells Bertrand about how dangerous plastic is, and he immediately vows to change his company's ways before Ladybug gives him a Magical Charm as useless as a plastic toy before she uses Miraculous Ladybug to fix the damage.
The episode ends with Bertrand funding the repair of the Liberty before vowing to change the way his company operates, as do Tom and Sabine, who now sell their products in eco-friendly containers. Unfortunately, with all the renovations being made to his company that come with moving away from plastic, Bertrand had to stop funding this groundbreaking cancer research institution in America in order to prevent his company from going bankrupt.
Anyway, this episode was pretty good. I honestly didn't have a lot of problems here. The plot was pretty straightforward, the themes of how easy it is to perpetuate companies that damage the environment were handled pretty well, and the main characters were pretty active.
Even the greedy corporate asshole meant to be a stand-in for real life executives was handled pretty well, having some quirks that make him stand out while showing how ignorant he is to the situation without making him completely insufferable. This episode could have easily gone the Captain Planet route with Bertrand, but they showed he wasn't intentionally endangering the environment because he felt like it, but rather, because he cared more about his company making money, even showing him ultimately realizing the error of his ways.
If there's one problem I had, it's with the way the Akuma fight was resolved. I get that any other Lucky Charm wouldn't have been immune to King of Plastic's plastic powers, but I feel like weaponizing the plastic the heroes spent most of the episode fighting against in order to stop the Akuma sort of muddles the message the episode is going for. It's not the worst way to resolve an Akuma fight, but it just bugs me personally.
While I still think “Mega Leech” did a better job with the environmental message, overall, this episode did a pretty good job teaching the moral it set out to teach.
THE BIGGEST IDIOT OF THE EPISODE IS... ANDRE (THE OTHER ONE)
Shockingly, nobody really acted that stupid this episode. Yeah, the kids were pretty naive thinking they could make Bertrand change his company's way of production, but still took action when that didn't work. Andre, on the other hand...
While Gabriel and Nadja had their own reasons to support Bertrand (Gabriel for Monarch reasons and Nadja for financial reasons), the only reason Andre went along with the fans polluting the environment was because they happened to have his image as one of the designs, and when the public started to turn on Bertrand, Andre acted like he always opposed him, and when confronted with an akumatized Bertrand, begged for his life like a coward and said he would reinstall the fan vending machines. While I guess it's better than having Chloe be the primary supporter of Bertrand's company, I need to reiterate that this aired after the last few episodes of Season 5 tried to place Andre in a more sympathetic light.
#immaturity of thomas astruc#iota#miraculous ladybug#marinette dupain cheng#ladybug#adrien agreste#cat noir#chat noir#gabriel agreste#hawkmoth#hawk moth#monarch#bertrand king#king of plastic#alya cesaire#nino lahiffe#mylene haprele#andre bourgeois#nadja chamack#kagami tsurugi#jessica keynes#eagle#eagle miraculous#aeon#uncanny valley#fei wu#ladydragon#lady dragon
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Carnival Lights: Henry Barrow x Reader
Warnings: mentions of murder (come on, it's Henry), swearing, some mean!Henry, naive!reader, sunshine!reader x grumpy!Henry (my favorite dynamic lol), some fluff, probably grammatical errors
Word Count: 3434 words
A/N: This is for that anon that asked me if I wrote for Henry Barrow (assuming that they wanted me to write something for him lol). I know I said I was going to take a break from Killer Frequency, but the “people pleaser” in me wanted to get something done. So yeah, I hope this isn't too disappointing. I also hope that my interpretation of Henry is to your liking (you gotta get creative when given a blank slate like him 😆). As such, I also hope anyone else that is a fan of this skrunkly also enjoys this as well. Oh, also, this takes place before the events of the game during Marie and Henry's "national murder tour" leading up to Gallows Creek. Just thought you should know that. Bye!
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Sparkling lights and the sound of upbeat music and screams of excitement flood your senses as you skip through the crowds attending your hometown's yearly carnival. You had always partaken in the festivities ever since you were a child, and the event still filled you with joy. Some of the older booth vendors and ride operators even knew you by name.
You had originally shown up with two of your friends, promising that they wouldn't get too "lovey-dovey" with each other since they were a couple, but that was broken about 15 minutes into your arrival. Feeling like a third-wheel, you broke off from them, not really caring too much. You could easily enjoy yourself here without them.
After you finished playing a game where you had to try and hit cartoon sea creatures with a water gun (and failing since your aim wasn't the best), you decided to head to something you knew you were good at: the funhouse maze.
You knew the maze like the back of your hand, and could easily make it from the entrance to the exit, so you decided to see how many combinations of routes you could go. You wanted to know every nook and cranny that these dark, black light lighten halls had to offer.
Once you got bored, you began to make your way to the exit. Once at a crossroad where you needed to turn right, you stopped when you heard a man let out a shout of frustration. Worried that they were lost, you made your way towards the noise to help them out.
'God fucking damnit,' Henry thought. He was so fucking close to getting the man his mother told him to kill. He was right on his tail and then...he was gone. Now he was lost in this Goddamn maze and it was all his stupid fault because he knew he wasn't good with mazes. It was a good idea in theory, since the man would be all alone with no one would hear him scream. But of course in practice it had to bite him in the ass.
He tore his mask off and shoved it into his large duffle bag at his side. God, was it making it hard to breathe in this stuffy prison. Not to mention how that man was probably long gone by now.
'Augh, what am I gonna tell mom?' worry began to flood his mind. She was no doubt going to be pissed at him.
Luckily for Henry, his unaware savior was approaching.
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As soon as you rounded the corner, you were now facing a man of decent stature, with long hair, a black trench coat, and a large duffle bag at his side. It was quite odd attire to be wearing in the middle of summer, but maybe he was just a worker at the haunted house who wanted to try out the maze on his break. He also seems to be oblivious to your presence, muttering to himself.
"Hi!" you chirp, causing the man to jump and spin around.
"The hell are you doing, here?" he hisses.
"Uh, it's a maze at a carnival. I'm here having fun," his harsh tone was completely lost on you. "You're lost, right?"
"What do you think?" he snarls, but you just laugh.
"Yep! I thought so! Come on, I'll show you the way out," you grab his hand, noting that he was wearing black leather gloves. Also odd, but once again that could've been just another part of the haunted house attire.
The man rips his hand from your grip as if yours had burnt his. You look back at him confused, but just shrug and begin to run off towards the exit.
"Hey, wait!" the man shouts and begins to chase after you, making sure to be on your tail so he could leave.
Eventually, you and him were able to taste the fresh air of the carnival, with the added smell of fair foods. You turn to look at the man, only to be taken aback a bit.
He looked to be a boy about your age, with piercing eyes but a very handsome face. You also noticed that he was unfamiliar to you.
"Huh, I don't think I've seen you around before. Are you new?" you smile at him, but he just turns to walk back towards the crowded rows of booths. "Hey, wait up!"
You decide to follow him. If he was new, you didn't want him to be overwhelmed or lonely.
"I'm Y/N!" you grin, but he just continues walking forwards. His eyes scanning the crowds and his jaw tight.
"Oh, you don't talk much, huh? That's okay! What do you wanna do? Do you wanna get something to eat? Oh! Or we co-"
"Look, don't you have friends or something that you can go hang out with?" he asks sharply. Unfortunately for Henry, the tone was once again lost on you.
"I do, but they'd rather make out in the tunnel of love than hang out with me," your tone drops slightly which makes Henry's eyebrow quirk up. After a couple of seconds though, just shake your head and smile back at him. "It's okay though, because I met you! I love meeting new people!"
'Jesus, what was your deal?' Henry thought. You were like a Care Bear in human shape. So sickeningly sweet that it was making him feel weird. How could someone like you exist in the cruel world his mom had told him so much about? Has it not broken you, yet?
"Oh, look! Bumper cars! You wanna go do those?" you beam up at him. Henry sighed. If he put up with this, maybe you would leave him alone. Besides, you provided him good cover. A new face like him dressed the way he was all by himself may drive suspicion. So he turned his head to look at your eager face and uttered one word.
"Fine."
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You weren't bad at bumper cars, but you also didn't win. Not that you cared though, especially since your mystery man had won. You were surprised at his skills and made sure to tell him.
Henry listening to you gush over him was odd. Not used to getting such praise from someone who wasn't his mother. And like with his mother, it made him feel good.
You continue to skip through the crowds with him at your side. He was still scanning all of the people around you, but his jaw wasn't tight anymore. That elated you, as you took it as him finally enjoying himself. You both stop when you hear someone call your name.
"Is that you, Y/N?" the voice of an older man called from a game booth. Your face brightens and you run to him, Henry following after you.
"Frank! I haven't seen you in ages!" you hug him over the booth's countertop. Henry tenses up and watches the man closely.
"You're one to talk! I haven't seen you since you were just 'this' tall," Frank levels his hand to show just how small you were when he had last seen you. He opens his mouth to speak again, but stops when his eyes fall on Henry. "Hey, Y/N, who's your friend?"
"He's new in town! I saved him from the maze!" you chirp.
"Ah, okay," he drawls, looking at Henry suspiciously. Upon seeing you look at him fondly though, he puts on his best "friendly face" and holds his hand out. "Pleasure to meet you, son."
Henry looks at Frank's hand before shaking it, still analyzing the older man. You are completely oblivious to the tension, as you look at the milk bottles that are stacked up in the booth.
"Hey, Frank! Care if we play?" you pull some tickets out from your back pocket. Frank's mood changes at the sound of your voice and smiles at you.
"Of course! You and your friend here get three shots," he kneels down to hand you three baseballs first.
You throw all three and only get three of the six bottles down.
"Oh, well! Your turn!" you turn to smile at Henry and move out of his way. Frank hands him three baseballs just as he did with you. He takes the ball, pulls his arm back, and....
All six bottles tumble down with a force that startles both you and Frank.
"Well I'll be damned! I have never seen anyone knock those bottles down like that! You play baseball, son?" the older man asks Henry, amazed.
"No," he says, shortly.
The older man clears his throat at the awkward silence before looking towards the stuffed animals that hung around the booth.
"Well, you won. Pick out your prize."
Henry wanted to just walk away, but looked at you in his peripheral. You were staring longingly at a pink elephant plush that had a cute, cartoony face. He points to that one.
"This one right here?" Frank asks, taking the elephant down. Henry nods. "Alright! Here ya go."
Henry takes the stuffed animal and nods at him.
"Bye, Frank!" you call as Henry begins to walk away from the booth.
"Bye, Y/N! See you next year!"
As soon as you both are five feet away from the booth, Henry practically shoves the plush at you.
"Here."
"What-?"
"You wanted it. I got it. Now take it," he says shortly. You look up at him, confused, but he still continues to walk forward and scan the crowd. You take the plushie and smile at it. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, with the softest fur you ever felt.
You squeal and pull Henry into a hug, thanking him. He tenses up and pushes you off.
"What the hell are you doing?" he scowls.
"I-I'm sorry, I-I just w-wanted to...," you trail off, hurt evident in your voice and eyes.
Your change in demeanor causes Henry to feel guilty, and the couple of eyes he could sense on him only added to that feeling. He sighs and rests his hand on your shoulder.
"Look, I'm...I'm sorry, okay. Just...just warn me before you do that again...please," his voice is now soft as he looks at you, wanting you to know that he did really feel sorry.
"Okay," you whisper, still feeling miserable about making him uncomfortable.
"Hey, why don't...," Henry thinks for a second. "Why don't we go on a ride, huh?"
"Okay," a smile forms on your face. "Which one do you wanna go on?"
"Whichever one you'd like," Henry gives you the first genuine smile you had seen that night. This causes your own smile to grow and you take his hand to lead to one of the more thrilling rides. Henry doesn't rip his hand away this time, allowing you to drag him to where you wanted to take him.
Once at the ride you wanted to go on, you handed your elephant to the ride operator and Henry hesitantly gives up his bag, before you enter the ride.
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By the time the ride had ended, you and Henry were wobbling in the best way possible. Henry let out a shaky laugh. He had never felt so alive. Where had this been his whole life? You let out your own laugh at Henry's reaction, before you and him collect your belongings and go on to do more rides and games. While walking, and even making some small talk with your mystery man, he stops when he spots a phone booth.
Henry thinks about his mother, about his mission. He had to call her, to tell her about how he couldn't get a good opening. He wouldn't mention how he was getting distracted or how he was having fun with a living ray of sunshine. He knew how she would probably react if he was honest.
"Hey, uh, Y/N?"
"Yeah?" you look up at him, beaming.
"I, uh...I have to make a phone call. I-I'll be right back, okay?"
"Okay! I'll wait right here!" you chirp.
He nods and gives you a small smile, before walking to the booth.
Henry enters the booth and sighs. He rummages around in his pocket before finding some quarters and inserting them into the machine. He lifts the phone and inserts the number to the motel room he and his mother were staying in. He waits, tapping his foot nervously as he waits. Then it stops, and a familiar voice speaks from the other end.
"Yes?" his mother says.
"H-Hi, mom."
"Oh, Henry!" her voice is cheerful. "Did you finish your 'assignment'?"
"No, I haven't. I can't get a good opening," he doesn't mention that he had lost the man to begin with. "Besides, this one person won't leave me alone. They're constantly following me around and bothering me."
His mom sighs on the other end and thinks.
"I'll be over there in a bit. Keep trying, dear. And remember, if you do find your opening, do what you must. Poor kid," she mutters towards the end of the statement.
Henry's stomach drops. He knows instantly what she meant. He didn't want to hurt you. You had nothing to do with...with all of this. You were an innocent, sweet person in this miserable world. Why get rid of someone like you?
"Henry, sweetie, you there?" his mother questions.
"Y-Yeah, yeah, I, uh...I was just looking around. Look, don't worry about coming over. I got this, I promise. I'll call you if I need you, okay?"
"Hm...okay," she pauses, clearly skeptical at her son's words. "Please just stay safe, okay? I love you."
"I love you too, mom. Bye."
"Goodbye."
There is a click, and then the line goes dead. Henry lets out a shaky breath and sets the phone back on its cradle. A knock at the booth startles him out of his thoughts. He turns around to see you looking at him, concerned.
He opens the door to the booth and steps out.
"Sorry," you apologize. "I just wanted to know if you wanted something to eat. Are you okay?"
"Y-Yeah, yeah...don't worry about it, okay? Food, uh...food sounds great."
"Okay. What would you like?" Henry thinks for a moment before cracking a smile at you.
"Surprise me!"
You nod and walk off to find a food booth. You knew exactly what you wanted to get. You had been craving it ever since you entered the carnival grounds.
Henry followed behind you, curious as to what you were going to get as you passed booth after booth. Then you stop, just what you were looking for.
"I was wondering when you were gonna show up," a woman greets you.
"Hi, Pam!" you smile at her and hand her some dollar bills. "Two candied apples, please!"
"Two?" Pam cocks her head to the side until her eyes fall on Henry. "Oh, I see."
She smirks, interpreting the mystery man besides you and how you were lovingly holding your elephant plush as a date.
A few moments later, Pam turns back to you and Henry with two candied apples in her hands.
"Enjoy, you two!" she winks at you when you and Henry take your treats. The two of you walk once more, while Henry investigates the sweet in his hand. You look over at him and laugh.
"What? Have you never had a candied apple before?"
"Uh, no actually. Are...are they your favorite?" he asks.
"Uh huh!" you nod eagerly. "I have to have at least one when the carnival's up!"
It was true. Ever since you had the teeth to eat them, candied apples had been your favorite treat, even with all of the cavities you had gotten over the years because of them.
Henry slowly raises the apple to his lips and bites down. The taste causes him to pause. He had never tasted something so sweet. It seemed fitting that they were your favorite.
"You like it?" you ask.
He nods his head, before he takes another bite.
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"So you really aren't gonna leave tomorrow?" you look at Henry sadly.
"Yeah, I-I'm, um...I'm afraid so."
You had learned that Henry was just visiting your hometown on a road trip with his mom. You thought that was fun, because your family always goes on road trips every summer, and yet you were going to miss your new mystery friend.
"Oh, Y/N! There you are!"
You and Henry turn around, seeing your two friends running towards you.
"Yeah, we were really worried!"
That causes Henry to stare daggers at them. They were worried? If they were so Goddamned worried about your safety, then they wouldn't have abandoned you.
"Uh, Y/N...who's this?" they both look at the man beside you that was making them feel uncomfortable under his stare.
'Good,' Henry thought.
"Oh, this is just my friend I made who kept me company this whole time," your voice is still cheerful, but you were still trying to guilt them. Henry smirks at that.
"Oh, well, uh...it's-it's getting late. We should start heading home."
Your eyes widen at that and you look down at your watch. It was almost midnight. God, your parents were gonna kill you.
"Yeah, you guys head to the entrance. I'll catch up!" your friends look at the boy besides you. Despite being the same age as them, something about him didn't seem right. They slowly turn around and do as you told them. As you watch them go, you hear a certain someone mutter something behind you.
"Henry."
"What?" you turn to look up at him.
"That's my name," Henry says.
You try the name out and smile. The sound of you saying his name made his chest feel weird.
"You look like a 'Henry'," you quip.
"That a bad thing?" he quirked an eyebrow at you.
"Nope!" you giggle and shake your head. Your demeanor changes and you awkwardly fiddle for something in your back pocket.
"Here," you hand him a small slip of paper.
Henry takes the paper and unravels it, a phone number revealing itself to him.
"Just in case you wanna keep in touch, o-or you know...just letting me know if you're gonna be in town again," you sheepishly state, squeezing the elephant in your arms. You had written your number down when he went off to make his phone call. You felt silly since you didn’t even know his name yet, but you knew you liked him either way.
"I, uh...I think I'll do just that," he smiles at you and puts the paper in his pocket. You smile back.
"I'm gonna hug you. Is that okay?"
Henry laughs, before opening his arms to you. You wrap one of your arms around him and he wraps his arms around your waist. Neither of you want to pull away, knowing that it would mean the end of your night together and who knows how long until you see each other again.
Unfortunately, your friends were waiting for you and he had a mission that you were unaware of. You pull away first.
"Goodbye, Henry," you quickly press a peck to his cheek. He tenses, but then looks at you shyly.
"Y-Yeah...goodbye, Y/N," a shade of pink crosses his face. He then clears his throat before pointing to your plushie. "You take good care of him."
You giggle and nod your head, before turning and walking away from him. Not even five feet away from him, you turn back and wave both your hand and your elephant's arm goodbye. Henry shakes his head and smiles, lifting his hand up to give a small wave of his own.
He stood there, watching your figure get smaller and smaller, until you disappeared into the crowd entirely.
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The man was killed swiftly in the haunted house of all places. No one suspected a thing, believing that the body was just a prop and the screams just sound effects.
Now Henry was laying down on his bed in the motel room his mother had rented. She was in the bathroom washing his knife and mask.
He could still hear the noises of the crowds cheering, feel the shakiness in his limbs after a thrill ride, taste the candied apple on his tongue, and feel your kiss on his cheek.
Perhaps when he and his mother got into the next town and had to split up again, he would see if that number you gave him was real.
#killer frequency#killer frequency game#killer frequency x reader#killer frequency game x reader#henry barrow#henry barrow x reader#x reader#rita writes
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hello, hello! i wanted to drop by to say that your kaveh + dr ratio fic was amazing. i only finished reading it just now, so excuse me if i sound like i consumed excessive sugar but anyway— i adore the way you played around with the concept of "expy"!! at the start of the fic, i already know that something was gonna tie both ratio and kaveh together (although i don't think we were made aware of ratio's intentions at first besides hints here and there??) but man, reading it till the end filled me with catharsis. it felt so good, everything was so neatly tied and weaved together. you did such a marvelous job. also, one of my favorite parts about the fic were the flashbacks veritas had about him and his (y/n). i think those were crucial in giving us a solidified view about the relationship between them and not to mention, the little 'lie' he did. ANDDD OH OH i loved the way you wrote kaveh's dialogue when he first saw his delam awake. something about how he stuttered/mumbled (?) in such relief made me feel like i could feel his relief myself. this may be because you introduced his despair over our loss so well somewhere in the beginning, so thank you for that!!! or really, thank you for writing this delicious fic in general.
anywho, i think i've said far too much on here but i just had to— wishing you a good day/evening! AND SORRY FOR THE RAMBLE.
[From this Yandere!Kaveh &/vs Yandere!Dr. Ratio x Reader]
Kaveh: What lie were they talking about?
Veritas: Nothing. Do not mind them.
Kaveh: If it's pertaining to (Y/n), I find that request difficult to follow.
[Author's notes utc]
Aight my turn to speak now HAJDJAIDIIW— DW DW I LOVE IT A LOT WHEN PEOPLE RAMBLE ABT MY FICS AAAHHHHHH TY TY TY!!!!!
Yeah it was meant not to be explicitly stated in the beginning what Ratio was up to (≡^∇^≡)!!! I just thought it'd be a nice "plot twist" when it's revealed Veritas also has a (Y/n) [although it's prolly obvs it was leading up to that haha].
His lie is actually pretty solid too. No one can deny or verify those claims. Not when he did leave those notes on (Y/n)'s computer [those quick little "Good morning, I love you. — R." messages he put in by hacking lol]. Not when he can say they were hiding their relationship. Doesn't help that his (L/n)'s colleagues can provide testimonies that they did use to be close enough to exchange jackets.
If Kaveh found out it's a lie there's no way in hell he'd allow Veritas to share you.
Speaking of our boy, Kaveh's parts are fun to write too. He nearly made me make the fic more sadder but my goal for these next fics is to be more lighthearted with a "willing"/compliant darling 😭😭😭 I love our boy very much. He doesn't have any will to go on but now he has something to get excited about and wake up for with you being here.
Aight I'll shut up now HAJSJAIISOQKA Ty ty ty (≧∇≦)/!!!!!
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Stanford Pines x Self-Insert
Summary ;; Ford Pines discovers a strange glowing red flower, obviously he brings it back to the shack to bring it underground and study it. But Stanley has other plans, seeing it as a business opportunity, but of course he messes it up
~~~~ (I'm sorry I forgot to use they/them pronouns so this is a Stan x female self insert)~~~~
EdIt;: Im rly sorry if its bad, its been a long while since I wrote fanfic but I love this man to death I need this ;( y'all would tell me if this is shit or not right? pls hlp
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Stanley's POV
Ford comes barreling in with something glowing red in his hands "the hell is that?" his brother didn't reply, instead he neatly stacked his books and gently places on the diner table a black pot with a large glowing flower.
Similar to a Lily, three long tubes with large pollen balls on each end gently emited small visible spores. I get irritated that he's ignoring me, again, and turn the tv off to lessen the noise "hey dick face!".
He looks at me with the highest form of disrespect, "Can you please tell me what the hell that thing is doing in my living room?" Ford huffed and straightened his glasses.
"techniqly this is my house Stanley. secondly! I don't know! I found it today. But I do know that I need to drive to my lab and retrieve some nessecary equipment items that I think would be beneficial of concealing this thing until I can learn more~"
The nerdy Pine brother looked 'too' excited about this research, "riiiiight, because playing with a flower is scientific?" my brother groans again "god why are you so childish! Just let me be happy about this discovery" I held my hands up in defense.
As he packed somethings up, he takes a step and looks at me very seriously, "listen Stan, I'm gonna be gone a while. Please, do not sell the damn flower in your freak shop. And more importantly. Do. Not. Touch. It."
I look back at the flower, everything about it calling to me to not sell it but cause general mischief for my brother and his nerdy hobbies. "yeah yeah, I promise! Jeez, you really think so low of your own blood?" he rolls his eyes and exits the living room with a sarcastic "yes.".
_______________
Self-Insert's POV
My cold wet hair dripped down my hot skin, I wrapped the towel around my chest, securing it well, then clipping the bottom, for no unnecessary 'drafts' of wind.
I combed my hair back out of my face and misted some perfume on before leaving the bathroom with the intention of going to my room and getting dressed. Until, !CRASH!
Rushing down the stairs with zero regards for slipping on my ass, I make it to the bottom to find Stanley Pines, my dear close friend, face covered in what looked like red spray paint and a broken flower pot with soil on the ground.
"Stan! What the- " I run to his side, holding his face with my hands to inspect the damage. I sprint to the kitchen and get some wet paper towels, trying to gently remove the mystery color from his face.
"Yeah yeah I know, Ford told me not to touch it already. But I didn't techniqly!" As I am dabbing his nose with the wet towel I give him a 'bruh' look. He protests "I'm serious! That damn flower basically farted this stuff in my face!" I laugh at his explanation.
As I finish cleaning the last of the flower spores from his eyes and nose, I notice an unfamiliar heat radiating from him like he was a mobile fireplace. Looking at his face, I see without the spores he is very flushed and red faces, a gentle sweat beginning at his bushy silver brows.
I put my lips to his forehead to feel his temperture, only to be met with an iron skillet burning my face, "Ow! Good Lord, how are you still alive! Your burning like grits with no butter!" I push the hair from his dripping face, to better see, he seems shy and sheepish? Stanley Pines? Shy?
Stanley's POV
I can't handle it, god this was such a mistake, I should have listened to Ford! Her glowing skin was the only thing I could pay attention to, as she spoke it was like how adults speak in cartoons.
When she was cleaning my eyes with the paper towel, I felt her breath, it sent chills through my whole body, like I was a teenager again! Her neck looked so... exposed... My body was turning up the heat like it was thanksgiving day.
I unconsciously trailed my eyes downward, (Self-Insert) continued her health assessment check with me, all my senses got more and more sensative. The TV volume was on low but it sounded like it was wracking inside my skull.
The living room light looked so bright and yellow for my eyes, I thought they were gonna dry away to dust. (Self-Insert)'s smell, fueling me into my lungs and straight to my member, so sweet, like honey and vanilla.
Her touch, as she nervously holds onto my arm for foundation, I can't think about anything else but the electrical storm going on with her beautiful body being pressed up against my old ass having a stroke on the floor in my fucking boxers. Real charming Stanley.
I unknowingly found myself gripping her wrist to bring her closer, hooking my arm around her waist and cupping each hip perversely. "T-Toots-... I can't... think... I don't think I... can even breath right now... but-" looking up deep into her eyes, the tent on me rises high to the sky.
Self-Insert's POV
The elder man aggressively shoved me, falling to my back but not hitting my head, thanks to his hand engulfing the back of my skull. Stanley's arms were firmly planted next to my head, his girtle not present but his very, very large lower half pushing past my legs, nothing but the thin blue and white striped cloth gently laying against my womanhood like a dog sitting on top of the bun.
"I can't explain how much I want- no..." Stanley falls forward, dipping his head to my throat like he's gonna rip it all out, "Need you~" I watch carefully, scared but, weirdly excited? His giant hands engulfing my wrists, the heart violently beating against his palm, "Stan." I say, to try and get his attention.
Suddenly rocking his hips to an imaginary song, he shifted his hands from my wrists to my biceps, pushing his weight on me as both our pre-cum juices covered and soaked his boxers. I couldn't run, the man was 5x larger than me, and I mean, It's not like it doesn't feel good~
Stanley grunted exhastedly, looking like a horny boy humping his pillow. The stubble on his face scratched all over me as he open mouth licked me like a loli-pop and drunkenly sucked hickies from my throat to my collarbones, he kept saying stuff like "I swear. you taste so good.", "I wish I could eat you like cake~", "say my name again, and I think I'll bust".
Gently removing himself from licking my neck, Stan suddenly rips my towel open, my no longer steaming body, hitting the freezing cold ac air of the mystery shack. Not saying a word, a small dripple of saliva dripping from his lip as sweat poured from his face.
His calloused fingers found their way to my chest with no hesitation, picking each bud with his pointer and thumb and rolling them around, my breath hitched as he pulled and let them fall back watching the buds grow stuffer and pinker "pretty, pink, buds" he murmurs.
While he gawked and played with my titties, I open my legs a bit more, adding to the closeness, his shaft firmly pressed to my soaking entrance. Reaching for the elastic of his boxers, I stick my thumbs in, circling around his waist and intending to push them down, feeling his swelled tip bed for attention.
!!EHEM!!-
Stanley's POV
(Self-Insert) sat in my lap as we watched my favorite romantic drama movie, my brother sat at the table next to us, toying with his glowing flower, that surprisingly lived.
Ford gagged once more, like he did for the 100th time, "I fucking hate you Stanley.".
I groan and drop my arm from the air dramatically, "Jesus fucking Christ Ford I already said I was in the wrong and I was sorry. How was I supposed to know it was gonna spit some sexy love juice in my face!" (Self-Insert) chuckled nervously as her face turned beat read again.
"Lets all of us just forget it okay. Please? Ugh~"
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I"M SO SORRY THAT WAS BAD- It was rushed and I'm finishing this at one thirty In the morning- AND I ALSO WORK- the lengths I go for horniness...
pls like...
<3
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Hey hey could you write something about newt confronting his middle school bully a la this post: https://10001gecs.tumblr.com/post/729455540321779712/my-high-school-bully-reached-out-to-me-and-asked
(post) hmm i wonder who sent this in after we talked about it in discord 7 months ago... allusions to non sfw behavior at the end !! (edit also literally seconds after i posted this i realized this ask says middle school and not high school like i wrote. sigh.)
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“Oh, shit,” Newton says. “Hermann, do you see that guy?”
He’s doing some strange, jerking head motion over the ambiguous vicinity of Hermann’s left shoulder, and it takes Hermann a good few seconds to realize Newton wants him to turn around and look at the fellow in question. He puts down his sandwich with a small sigh: he waited two hours for Newton to wrap up his work so he would have company in the mess hall for lunch, lunch which will continue to evade him, he supposes.
But Newton kicks his shin under the table as he cranes his neck around. “Newton,” he snaps with a startle. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but—offended at the mere principle of it—he hits Newton’s own shin back with the end of his cane. Newton is too preoccupied with attempting to hide the entire upper half of his body beneath their table to put up a fuss.
“Don’t be so obvious about it,” he says to Hermann. “Be subtle, subtle. Yeah, perfect.”
There’s no one exceptionally exciting over Hermann’s shoulder when he turns back about painfully slowly, or at the very least no one he can see causing Newton to get as worked up as he is. It’s the usual gaggle of personnel they see wandering about the Shatterdome with them. “Ugly blue shirt,” Newton whispers, “and a stupid beard.”
Hermann spots him after another glance through the food line—a stocky, unassuming man waiting with a tray in his hands, though admittedly Hermann can’t find anything particularly offensive about his shirt or his facial hair, not even by Newton’s standards. “What of him?” Hermann says.
He doesn’t recognize the man, but that’s hardly surprising. There’s been plenty of new faces about the base recently after the latest round of Shatterdomes shuttered their operations and sent their skeleton crews to Hong Kong as a last resort. Hermann expects he might be one of the transferred ranger recruits. He lacks the, ah, soft disposition of Newton and Hermann and their more technologically-inclined ilk, and is certainly built large enough to hold his own in a jaeger.
“I think I know him,” Newton says.
This is not that surprising either. Newton has a curiously long list of ex-partners spread throughout the various networks of the PPDC, partially because the instability of their employment at any given base up until recently (or, indeed, the instability of their expected lifespan) is not conducive to long-term relationships, and partially because Newton’s personality is not conducive to it either. Hermann envies the people who have had the means to escape Newton: he himself has had no such luck. “Another poor soul you’ve scared off?” he says, and takes a bite out of his sandwich more aggressively than he intended.
“Ew, man, gross.” Newton makes a face at him. “No way. He’s a total asshole. He used to make my life hell.”
Hermann swallows his mouthful of sandwich. This admission, on the other hand, is surprising. Newton doesn’t usually make his dislike of people unknown, especially not to Hermann, and Hermann had been under the assumption he was familiar with the full roster of Newton’s ‘enemies’—most of whom are academic rivals of some kind (though certainly none surpass Hermann’s high ranking in that particular category), and all of whom Hermann had Googled obsessively after being made aware of their existence. “Sounds a bit like the whole 'taste of your own medicine' cliche,” Hermann says.
“No, come on, I'm serious, I mean actual hell, just ‘cause I was out about being into dudes,” Newton says. “Whatever bullshit you can think of—stole my shit, made fun of my glasses, pushed me around, called me lots of really creative and exciting slurs. Really original content. He flushed one of my notebooks down a toilet one time and I got in trouble for it. Just—you know, stupid, immature, homophobic jock-vs-nerd bullshit.”
More than slightly alarmed, Hermann shoots another glance over his shoulder. The fellow with the beard has moved ahead in the line and Hermann has a much clearer view of him now. He’s most certainly at least twice Newton’s size, if not larger, and Hermann doesn’t like the idea of him treating Newton in such a physically aggressive manner by any means (to say nothing of the other half of the harassment he received). “When on Earth did that happen?” he says. “The Jaeger Academy? You reported him to—someone, anyone, I hope.” And if not Hermann is more than happy to do so now.
“Oh, no,” Newton says. “It was back when I was in high school for a year. Before I skipped twenty grades, I mean.”
Hermann relaxes his shoulders, which had grown quite tense. “Ah,” he says. As a child he was unfortunately quite familiar with schoolyard bullies himself.
“His name is something stupid, like Chad or Chet or something. Not actually, but you know what I mean. I used to stalk him on Facebook when I was in grad school to make sure his life still sucked shit. He got divorced the same month I got my fourth doctorate. Really poetic. Oh, fuck.”
He ducks back beneath the table. Evidently he isn’t fast enough, because when Hermann turns, Chad-Chet-something is staring intently at the empty space Newton inhabited seconds prior. If the wide-eyed surprise that flashes across his face is any indication, he has recognized Newton in return.
“He’s coming this way,” Hermann says to the rustling somewhere in the vicinity of his ankles. It must be filthy down there. He hears Newton curse, though given the alarming way the entire table wobbles, it may be because he’s just hit his head on something. “Would you like me to make up a lie and say you’ve gone off somewhere? Or I can stall for a bit, and you can—I don’t know—crawl off.”
“Newt?” Newton’s former classmate says.
Newton rises back up slowly, his hair in significant disarray. Hermann fantasizes briefly—not for the first time—about going at it with a comb. “Heyyyyy, man,” Newton says. “What’s up?”
Newton’s classmate had been squinting at him with a small frown, but (to Hermann’s immense surprise) he begins to smile. “It is you, that’s wild! I don’t know if you remember, but we went to school together—like, fifteen, twenty years ago. We were in the same homeroom.”
“Oh, totally,” Newton says. “Bradley?”
“Seth.”
“What’s, uh, what’s brought you to Hong Kong?” Newton says.
Seth looks down pointedly at the empty chair positioned between Newton and Hermann. “Mind if I sit here?” he says, and though neither of them respond, he drops his tray down with a small clatter and follows suit. “I joined on with the PPDC last year, and I was stationed in Seattle up until a couple weeks ago,” he continues, confirming Hermann’s earlier suspicions. “I’m still getting used to everything. I heard there was a Dr. Geiszler working at one of the labs here somewhere, but I had no idea that was you. Did they just throw you over here too?”
Newton has gone a little red in the face, as if he’s bottling up a great deal of shouting, cursing, and possibly crying, and Hermann is somewhat impressed at his restraint in not making a scene. He feels a small surge of protectiveness for Newton (despite everything) and steps in not-very-smoothly to help him. “Newton—Dr. Geiszler I have been stationed here since 2020,” he says. “I’m Dr. Hermann Gottlieb.”
“Hermann’s my lab partner,” Newton manages to say. “We get along really awesomely. We’re, like, pretty close. Seth and I went to high school together, Hermann.”
“Mm,” Hermann sniffs. “So you’ve mentioned.”
He does not bother hiding his disdain, and Seth is astute enough to notice and jump to the logical conclusion of precisely the conversation he’d interrupted: he gives them a small, embarrassed grin, and an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders. “Yeah, I was kind of an asshole back then,” he says, “but you know how teenagers are.” He picks up his tray and stands. “Anyway, I’ll leave you guys alone. We’ll have to catch up later, Newt? Maybe dinner?”
“Totally,” Newton says.
“I should hire someone to kick his ass,” he says to Hermann as they watch Seth find a seat with some fellow rangers—similarly fresh faces, Hermann presumes them to be his crowd from Seattle—across the mess hall. “I bet I could bribe another ranger into it, just go a littttle too hard in on a sparring match. Maybe knock out a few of his teeth. Ugh. Like I’d ever get dinner with that dick.”
“I got dinner with Seth,” Newton announces in the laboratory a week later.
“I wondered where you were last night,” Hermann says, feigning disinterest as he squints at his computer screen. In truth he’s rather peeved at Newton over it; they’ve had a long-standing arrangement as dinner companions for several years at this point, and he’d waited for Newton at their table in the back of the mess hall for an hour before he finally realized he was being stood up and stormed off to his quarters. He’d debated tossing out the extra chocolate pudding cup he had stolen as dessert for Newton but decided to eat it instead, imagining with relish the whole time how upset Newton would be if he found out. It made him feel a little bit better.
“Oh, yeah, sorry I ditched you, I kinda forgot,” Newton says. “I was on my way to the mess and he kinda accosted me out of nowhere and offered to buy me noodles downtown, as an 'apology'. Not gonna turn that down. I made sure to run up a bill. But, dude, you’ll never believe this.”
“Mm,” Hermann says.
He hears Newton made an impatient little shuffling noise behind him. Then Newton is stomping over and grabbing onto the back of Hermann’s desk chair to spin Hermann around to face him. He boxes Hermann in, one hand on each armrest, and (with nowhere else to go) Hermann folds his arms across his chest and scowls up at him. “Fine. Go on.”
“So,” Newton begins gleefully, “it turns out he’s also gay now. Or I guess he always was, which explains the divorce thing, but you know what I mean. He said the reason he treated me like shit was because he was jealous of me for being out, and also because he thought I was infecting him with my gay cooties or whatever since he wanted me soooo bad. What a jerk.” He drops his arms away from Hermann’s chair. “Anyway, we boned.”
Hermann sits up quickly and nearly collides with Newton's abdomen. “What?”
“Eh, don’t worry,” Newton says, “it’s not like I’m into him or anything. I’m gonna hold that grudge forever, sorry, he’s not hot enough to make me forget all that, even if he isn't an asshole anymore. I know what I’m doing. It’s all part of my awesome revenge plan: I’m gonna string him along and then dump him hard after he gets a taste of what it's like to date someone as cool as me.”
Hermann is of two minds: the first is that Newton’s plan is abysmally stupid, and the second, that he can’t help but be relieved that Newton is not earnestly subjecting himself to a relationship with a man whom he’s professed to hate. Loathe as he is to admit it, Newton deserves—Hermann grits his teeth—better. “How exactly do you intend to ‘string him along’?” Hermann says. “And why would you even want to? He hardly seems worth the effort.”
“Number one, by being hot and charming as usual,” Newton says, and rolls his eyes at Hermann’s loud scoff. “Shut up. I’m irresistible. He’s already trying to get me to go out for coffee with him today. Can you believe how clingy he is? So desperate. Ugh. And number two—” He shrugs, and something uncomfortable simmers within Hermann’s chest at the sight of the light blush rising to his cheeks. “I meeean, I don’t know, dude. The hate sex was kinda doing it for me. I guess technically I was the only one doing the hating there, because I’m irresistible, but it was still pretty hot.”
Being treated to details of Newton’s sexual proclivities is not a new experience for Hermann, as Newton seems to think it both constitutes daily small talk in the laboratory when their work gets slow and something Hermann genuinely cares to hear about, but Hermann finds himself bristling at it now. He wasn’t aware such an, er, act, spurned on by hatred, was even a possibility with Newton—that Newton would enjoy it. Could they have been finding more constructive outlets for their mutual dislike throughout all these years? Simply embraced the fiery passion of it all? Certainly Hermann has crafted list after list of increasingly erotic ways he could shut Newton up, but it is the first time he begins to wonder if Newton might not have done the same.
He forcefully turns his chair back around to hide his face from Newton. He is flushing, his skin hot beneath his collar. His computer screen swims in front of him. “That’s lovely to hear,” he says, after far too long of a silence. “I’m glad you—enjoyed yourself. Best of luck with it all.”
“Right,” Newton says, after too long of a silence of his own. “Uh, I’ll be back in an hour-ish.” He adds, mockingly, “We’re getting coffee. I’ll bring you back a muffin and tea or something.”
Once Newton has gone, Hermann drops his head into his hands with a small groan.
#newmann#maria's fanfiction tag#eh i don't think this is my best but i'm trying to get myself back into the writing groove
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Chapter 11: Three's A Crowd
Chapter Word Count: 4,676
Anything in Bold Italics are Korean/Another language.
Master List | Prev | Next
Was he scolded for his reckless actions? Yeah. All three of his managers, the PR team, and the VP of Pledis had jumped down his throat on the first day after the incident.
Seungcheol had been beside him the entire time, rebutting each and every argument they had about their idol image, their safety, and most importantly, you. Jihoon didn’t really need Cheol to come to your defense, he had been doing just fine repeating exactly what he said the previous night in the dorms and on Weverse. Why their team thought arguing with two of the most stubborn people in the group was a good idea, he’d never know.
Twitter had been flooded with screen recordings of the live he did. Realistically it was a PR nightmare but all he really saw was the positive feedback. Fandoms of multiple groups had made comments on his actions, bringing up other idols like Chen from EXO and Bobby from iKON who had found their soulmates and started families while still working. There was of course the hateful comments but many came to the defense to combat the antis.
It was the era of humanization in his eyes. Idols were not robots, nor were they property for the fans. They had lives outside of their profession, friends that were both celebrity and non-celebrity, and soulmates either with them or waiting for them.
“ All of you, stop please. I’m getting a headache from the back and forth that isn’t getting us anywhere.” The VP sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “ It happened, fine, we can’t take it back, but for your sake and Y/N’s, don’t ever do something like this again.”
“ We can’t just have him going around and-” One of the Hybe PR representatives tried to argue but the VP held up a hand.
“ And we very well can’t have him publicly apologize because the fans that do support him would be in an uproar. They would know he doesn’t mean it.”
Jihoon watched the stare down between the two, very well knowing that this could have gone a lot worse. Beside him, Seungcheol gave a simple pat to his leg and spoke up.
“ Let’s just focus on the rest of the tour and get through Caratland.”
“ Jihoonie, why don’t we come visit you and meet them?” His mother hummed through the phone.
He had been on the ride back from Hybe with Seungcheol, still technically on a small break before they would have a few more practices for the next stop on tour. Seungcheol was scrunching his nose up, suppressing the snicker that threatened to leave him.
“ Do you think that will be a good idea? Coming all this way, staying in a hotel, then having to leave so soon since we’ll have practice?” He was trying to find every way to not have them come. Maybe saying how busy they would might help-
“ Oh nonsense, we can come and stay and take them around- Y/N, right?”
“ We call them Ruby, mom!” Seungcheol leaned close, speaking into the phone the best he could with Jihoon trying to push the older man away.
He was in hell and Seungcheol wasn’t helping.
“ Ruby? Like that little song you wrote?”
Seungcheol took the phone from his hand, starting the small tangent of why Mingyu specifically picked the name. He couldn’t hear exactly what she was saying but it made the other laugh and continue on. The conversation had shifted as they pulled into the parking garage of their building. The leader was talking about the tour so far because apparently Jihoon didn’t tell his own mother about them getting back aside from a text that he found his soulmate, not even a phone call.
“ Give me that, hyung.” Jihoon snatched his phone back from the other, quickly saying goodbye to his mother before hanging up with her. “ I’m going to see Ruby-ah.”
“ You should let your parents meet them, she sounded so excited asking about them.”
Huffing, Jihoon tucked his phone into his pocket, rubbing the back of his neck as they got out of the van. “ I know, I just still don’t want to overwhelm them much. Nothing is changing for me but everything is changing for Ruby-ah and I want to spread things out before that.”
Walking into the elevator, Seungcheol nodded his head side to side, needing a moment to think and possibly give a better solution to everything. “ Maybe before the Japan leg? We’ll have a few weeks before In The Soop 2 then practice and flying out, it should be more than enough time, yeah?”
Jihoon contemplated the idea, running through logistics in his head. It wasn’t a bad idea aside from the fact that once they left for the next part of the tour, everyone would be flying around and sleeping in hotels for three weeks before that. Unless things were bought, you’d be sleeping on a foam mat on the floor for a bed even after they returned. Hell, even the idea of needing to have you around for In The Soop? Things were getting even more complex before it got better.
“I’ll figure it out, hyung.” Standing at your door, he felt the low rumble of exhaustion through the bond. You only got up a bit ago based on the feel, it was nearing noon.
Hand raised to knock, he heard the shuffling of your feet and the door swung open before he got a chance too. Staring back at him now, he took in your form, messy hair and dark under eyes. You had wrapped yourself in the comforter, letting it drag behind you on the clear-ish floor.
“What did you do?” You asked, lifting your phone to him. Twitter was open on the screen.
Quickly he averted his eyes, dropping his arm and fiddling with the strap to his apple watch.
“ I asked, what did you do?” You asked now in Korean, your tone firm.
He sighed, still not meeting your eye. “ I heard you both times…”
“Are you going to answer me then?”
“...Do I have to?”
He let himself be pulled into your apartment, the door nearly slamming shut behind him. He watched as you shuffle-marched into the bare living room and turned back to him. You looked a little mad but he couldn’t tell if you were actually mad since you didn’t feel mad.
Jihoon kicked off his slides and stepped further into your home, keeping a small distance between the two of you. He could feel you watch him with every step.
“ I’d like to say that I was really mad when I went live. And I feel no regret regarding my actions.”
You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath in as you frowned your brow, staring at him now. “ You could have given me a warning? A text? I found out because Jamie and Kazuki texted me over a hundred times while I was asleep!”
Okay, he could have done that…But he instead cried, went to his room and slept until he was rudely awakened by their manager.
But you didn’t need to know all of that-
And you were right either way.
He took a step closer, raising his arms in defeat. Your shoulders dropped and you sighed, curling the comforter closer around your body. Now he could feel the smallest shreds of anger between you held onto flow away into the distance of the bond. It was replaced with annoyance.
“ I should have, but I wasn’t thinking straight.” Jihoon got closer now, placing a hand on your blanketed shoulder. “ I was mad and I couldn’t let them think that they would gain some sort of fucked up favor from me.”
He watched as your face morphed from annoyed to neutral. Your eyes were looking for something on his face and a part of him felt a little self-conscious at being analyzed so close.
Swiftly a hand came up and a finger raised to point at him. He had leaned back some, surprise written on his expression. You had poked the finger into his chest then pointed towards his face. He stared down your finger to your face, seeing your nose scrunched up the slightest bit.
“Don’t, and I mean don’t! Do that again. I’m already gonna have a target on my back and I don’t need you fueling the crazy train of fire!” You flawlessly switched between the languages, a huff coming out after. “Now either show me good places to order furniture and groceries or take me out to go there.”
He insisted that at least two security guards accompany you and he was grateful you didn’t try to fight him on it. Texting the little group chat the members had, Jihoon asked if anyone needed anything since the two of you would be going out shopping, sliding his phone into his pocket to wait for a reply.
You had gone off to get changed and gather what you needed to head out. Jihoon could feel the small tidbits of excitement that buzzed under his skin but also felt the anxiety you were trying to suppress. He leaned himself against the wall, across crossed, waiting for you to finish whatever you were doing.
A knock at the door had him perking up and looking at the small screen that showed outside of your door. Taking a breath in, he saw you shuffle out, wanting to stop you from answering it but you smiled brightly and hurried to the door.
“Hey!” You smiled as Mingyu stood outside of the threshold, his eyes beaming with a smile plastered on his face. “ Did Jihoon-ah invite you?”
Mingyu shook his head, looking over you to him. “ Nah, he put out a text in the groupchat and I thought I’d just come along and help.”
Jihoon had to resist rolling his eyes. Yeah he loved his members but a small part of him, outside of the security, wanted to be alone with you, a little domestically. Now though, he didn’t want to just kick Mingyu out because you looked so happy, but that didn’t mean he had to be fully happy about the uninvited guest.
You had looked over to him, the smile once on your face dropping as you looked at him with curiosity. He could tell you felt the tiny sprout of jealousy he let slip but all he did was shake his head to you.
Jihoon waved both of you off some. “ Let’s get down to the garage so we can wait for security.”
Stepping out of the elevator on the garage level, Mingyu gasped and threw his arm around you.
“ Coups-hyung, Shua-hyung, and Jeonghannie-hyung are also coming, they were in the dorm with Dokyeom when I was up there.”
Jihoon internally groaned, frowning his brow as he walked behind the two of you. The trio was growing into a sextet and he was going to have to deal with teasing from both Jeonghan and Joshua. Nothing was going the way he wanted. Still, you looked so happy, much different than the tear streaked face you had yesterday, and he didn’t want to ruin the peace you held in your heart.
The trio was already standing beyond the inside entrance between the garage and the apartment building, either on their phone or standing around. Hearing the door open, they turned, greeting each of you with small hellos and bows of their heads. Mingyu had fist bumped Seungcheol and gave little nods towards the other too. Jihoon hummed his greetings and stood behind where Mingyu pulled you in and had you greet the oldest of his group.
He could see that you were a bit flustered, probably having to do with your bias standing right in front of you. He suppressed another roll of his eyes, stretching his neck to calm himself.
It was going to be a long day.
Mingyu was scheming, you could see the glint in his eye as you were being ushered into the van that pulled up. Jeonghan and Joshua had filed into the back and he pushed you into the back row with them. You tried to fight it a bit but he insisted and you were holding up their travels…so you ended up getting placed between what were known as the evil twins of Seventeen.
“ Where are we going, Ruby-ah?” Jeonghan asked from your right, buckling himself into the seat.
You just had to think about them like Jamie and Kazuki, or you told yourself that at least. They did remind you of them…
“ Well, to not bore you with the details, I asked Jihoon to show me places to buy furniture then I need food because I can actually cook for myself.”
Joshua snorted a laugh from your right, shaking his head to try and get the smile off his face.
“ Mm, that’s alright, Jihoon can’t cook either so good luck feeding him for the rest of your life.”
You heard a scoff from the row ahead of you where Jihoon, Seungcheol, and Mingyu sat. The latter and Seungcheol both snickered at Jeonghan’s comment.
“ I don’t mind, your soulmate will have to deal with a pretty face and you complaining like an auntie if any video I’ve seen is true.”
From the corner of your eye, you see Jeonghan’s mouth slightly agape. He sighed out, a sly smile gracing his face.
“ Whoever my soulmate is will love me no matter what.” He tried to retort but your tongue got the best of you.
“ Until you open your mouth.”
The van erupted in laughter and a wave of amusement passed through you. You covered your face, nose scrunching up as you laughed. Peeking over to Jeonghan only had you laughing harder. He had his mouth hanging open, puffing out laughs in disbelief as he stared at you.
You quickly gave an apology but it didn’t mean much as you continued to laugh, tears blooming in your eyes.
“ Wahh- I’ve never seen him so shocked!” Seungcheol had turned in his seat, bright eyes looking at both of you.
For a second, you met his eyes but quickly looked away. Your cheeks flared with heat and you could tell you were blushing, however you hoped your out of breath laughing would make it seem like you weren’t. Using your short sleeve to wipe away the tears, you looked at Jeonghan who was still trying to collect himself. He had closed his mouth at this point, crossing his arms over his chest and huffed.
“ I’m being beaten at my own game.” He pursed his lips, looking out the window for a moment then back to you. He was smirking now, eyes filled with mischief. “ I think we will get along swimmingly, Ruby-ah.”
Jihoon had turned in his seat to peer back at you three in the back. Jeonghan and you were staring at each other with wide grins, an unspoken agreement forming between them.
Turning your head back to the leader duo before you, they too shared a look, but one more distressing than the one between you and Jeonghan.
“ We have just set ourselves up for hell.” Seungcheol whispered to Jihoon who’s eyes widened and a shiver ran down both his and your spine.
“ I’m blaming Mingyu since he said you guys were coming.” Jihoon whispered back.
“ Hey! Don’t blame me!”
And an alliance was made at that moment.
Just as Jihoon agreed, your little group was driven by security to a furniture store, specifically an IKEA which had you snickering as you saw the blue and yellow building.
“When you finish decorating, you need to invite everyone over and cook for us.” Jeonghan hummed, pulling his mask over his face as he stepped out after you.
You raised a brow as you pulled your own mask up. “ Shouldn’t the guests bring housewarming gifts like food and a cheap little plant?” Sweet sarcasm laced each word.
“Unless Mingyu, Seomin, or I are cooking, I don’t think you want to die.” Joshua fixed the bucket hat on his head and readjusted his mask.
“ I want meatballs.” Mingyu hummed, taking your arm in his and walking off away from your group and towards the entrance.
“ He is just stealing them away.” Jihoon scoffed, walking between Seungcheol and Jeonghan.
Looking back over your shoulder, you could see the other four with one security guard while the other tried to keep up with the pace Mingyu had set between you. The jealousy from earlier was heavier in your chest and you felt a little bad to be dragged along as such. Getting to the main level of the store, you tried your best to break off from the taller man but he was unrelenting in showing you something he found cool or even cute.
Joshua had fallen into a quiet conversation with you about any pieces you thought about getting. You had taken pictures of items you would need to order but with the size of the van the guards had arrived in, you were sure a few smaller boxes could fit if you tried.
“ You should get a big couch so everyone can come over and sit on it.” Seungcheol commented, sitting on one of the display couches, arms resting over the back, legs spread in a typical man spread.
You averted your eyes, letting a long breath of air out of your nose, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. Nope, you wouldn’t fall for anything-
“ Who said any of you were invited?” You asked, looking at another display of an L-shaped couch to the left. “ Or are you just inviting yourself over?”
“Careful, Ruby-ah, he’ll think you’re flirting.” Jeonghan warned playfully, taking a seat next to Seungcheol.
Envy clawed at your soul. It felt a little suffocating but when you looked at Jihoon, he was in conversation with Joshua about an ottoman he could buy for his studio. No sign of any type of displeasure or jealousy was on his face. It was confusing you.
“ You okay?” Mingyu asked, stepping into your field of vision.
You only nodded and continued to look at the display furniture, taking pictures of tags and taking note of items. To keep Mingyu from hanging off of you, you had him carrying a basket of items for you, glad it was stopping him from clinging to you.
Mingyu, even through videos, was someone who was clearly clingy. It was evident when he was around certain members, especially Jihoon, Minghao, and Seungkwan. He is always the person to remind these members how cute they were or just generally holding onto them. It was easy to see that you were a new friend to him even in the short time of knowing the man. He was kind and loving, a little too much in the physical contact department but you didn’t mind. You could understand the jealousy that Jihoon was feeling, having your soulmate clung to by a giant of a man. The part that had you a little annoyed was that he wasn’t doing much to stop Mingyu. You had to take it upon yourself to find a way to hinder Mingyu’s affection.
Getting down to the actual warehouse floor, you already were ready to go grocery shopping and go home. Jihoon’s jealousy was eating at your last string of sanity and Mingyu wasn’t helping. With haste, you found the smaller items you wanted and a small tool kit. Jihoon offered to push the cart which you allowed, even adding the ottoman he wanted onto the pile.
Joshua had been a steady, quiet figure beside you as you waited in line. Behind you Mingyu, Jeonghan, and Seungcheol were talking about an upcoming schedule while Jihoon was silent in front of you, waiting patiently with the cart. On either side of your small group, guards stood, keeping watchful eyes out for anything out of the ordinary or dangerous. They moved with you and you felt safe, or as safe as you could with two guards in a big ass warehouse.
Paying for your items separate from Jihoon, Mingyu tried to get a few things as a gift, which you shot down instantly. The jealousy bubbled back up again, having settled for a bit prior, and you took a calmly breath in.
“ Food is on me,” Joshua called out to your group, placing a hand on your shoulder. “ Go find a table, I’ll take them to get food.”
Before you knew it, Joshua was leading you away, one of the guards following you while the other stayed with the rest to find a suitable table. The line for food was long but you were thankful to be away from almost all of them to settle.
“You’re allowed to be annoyed.” Joshua spoke, sliding his hands into his pocket. “You’ve looked annoyed since walking into the store.”
You cringed, dropping your shoulders and sighing. “Have I been that obvious? I’m trying to keep my mood up but it’s just not getting better.”
You watched as Joshua looked over to your group towards the back of the food area, most of them sitting and playing on their phones. “Is it Mingyu or Jihoon?”
“Would it be bad if I said both?” You glanced at him, letting the other take in your exasperated expression. “At first, I was fine with Mingyu all over me, he is like a giant puppy that just wants attention. Yesterday was like that and I was okay with it too, Jamie and Kazuki were physically affectionate people, I loved it. But today?” You rubbed a hand over your face, following him as you took a step forward in line. “Jihoon is so jealous and it's radiating through the bond but he isn’t saying a single thing. I’m the one trying to stop Mingyu by filling his arms with shit and staying a few steps back.”
Joshua’s expression goes from curious to empathetic. “He means well, Jihoon just isn’t good at expressing himself. It’s been years for me and sometimes he is still hard to read most days.”
“The problem I’m having internally is whether I tell him I know because he knows that I know that he is feeling that way, or just let him come to me. Just because I can feel it I shouldn’t just air all the laundry out and place the blame on him, right? But shouldn’t he talk to me? I’ve been annoyed and he’s barely said a word to me aside from talking with the other guys and I know he can feel it.” You grumbled out your rambled response when annoyance tangled beside the jealousy Jihoon held in him.
You wanted to rip your hair out and beat him with a shoe.
“ And now he is annoyed, and I’m back to wanting to go home.” You switched to Korean,
Joshua laughed, letting you simmer in the feeling before patting your back gently. “Maybe you should talk to him. He won’t come to you unless you tell him it’s a problem.”
You were happy to be home, glad to have help from each of them with carrying groceries and boxes. Mingyu had happily carried a box of a nightstand while Seungcheol and a guard easily carried a coffee table. Joshua and Jihoon provided plenty of help with the smaller items and food store bags.
You ushered the oldest and Mingyu out, motioning for Jihoon to stay behind. The smile you had on your face as you bid each a goodnight faltered as the door closed and you paused, hand on the doorknob to collect yourself. Turning to where Jihoon sat on your living room floor, he averted his eyes when you tried to meet them.
“ Jihoon-ah..” You spoke up firmly, watching as his shoulders tensed. “ Can we talk about it?”
“There isn’t anything to really talk about.” He replied, rolling his head and stretching his neck.
You took a deep breath, stepping into the living room. Standing before him, you placed your hands on your hips. You couldn’t get mad at him.
“ You can’t hide it from me and it ticked me off all day.” You sighed out, “ And you just let your jealousy wash into it without saying a single word. If you don’t like something, you can use your words.”
Jihoon looked at you, frowning, biting his lower lip to hold in whatever was actually on his mind. Annoyance that rivaled your own was flooding the bond with envy. “ Then what? When I’m not around will you have him hang off of you? It isn’t like you stopped it at first and you probably didn’t yesterday.”
Your mouth hung open and you looked off to the side, shaking your head. “ You are going to blame me? I started to pile his arms with stuff to make him stop.”
“But you could use your words too!” He was getting angry now, standing up and pacing around the room, avoiding any boxes. “ You're my soulmate! I wanted to go out with you today and when Mingyu showed up I wanted to tell him to fuck off!”
“And how is that my problem when you don't say anything!” You threw your hands up, groaning in frustration. “ Jihoon-ah, just because I can feel every single emotion you have, does not mean I am going to know what it’s exactly about! It’s emotion sharing, not mind reading!”
You haven’t felt him this heated before. Yes, he has been angry in the past, but now it was different. He paced around the room, running a hand through his hair and grumbling under his breath. Every part of him was tense and your hands balled into fists. You didn’t know what to say next, his anger was getting to you.
“ For once I want something for myself, I want to be selfish and I don’t want everyone hogging you.” He muttered, shaking his head and setting his jaw. “ I want to be the center of your attention- I want to hold you and protect you but he just gets in my way-”
“You can’t hog me, Jihoon-ah. I’m a person not an object. I can have friends outside of you.” You didn’t mean to sound so harsh.
Moving your gaze back to him, his shoulders dropped and the anger he once held in his face faded. When he spoke again, his voice was soft, almost painful if you could place a word to it.
“ Ruby-ah,” Heartbreak was written all over his face now. “ I don’t mean it like that. I just- God why is talking so hard-”
He pushed his hair back, holding the strains back from falling in his face. Jihoon was struggling to form the words and regret perched above any anger and jealousy you once felt.
“ I’ve waited years, hearing stories of friends and family talking about meeting their soulmate. I’ve had to share everything for years since debut with my members, literally everything.” He moved towards you, letting his hands fall to his side and just simply resting his head on your shoulder. The bond thrummed with warmth. “ I don’t want to share. I want to be the one you hold onto. I want to be the one you let hold you. I want to plan stupid little dates that you’ll make fun of me for because it will be cheesy.”
Slowly, you felt his arms wrap loosely around you. “ I want to write songs about you and for you. I want to be everything with you and for you.”
You raised your arms, one sliding across his back and the other coming up to run through his hair.
“We really are two idiots, huh?”
#seventeen#seventeen x reader#svt#seventeen jihoon#woozi x reader#svt woozi#soulmate au#seventeen soulmate au#seventeen fic#svt x reader
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s2 episode 23 thoughts
i am: confused. about everything i just watched. and i can’t tell if the problem is me missing something blatantly obvious, the episode being strange on purpose because it’s building up to something, or it just being an overall peculiar plotline. but i will attempt to elaborate on this later. for now, as always, we start at the top.
the first thing i wrote down was that i was so excited to watch tn’s ep!! i missed the last few days because i was busy and i was really hoping tonight would NOT involve any sort of disease which proved to be the case
“i want these nerds to deal with an art heist someday” <- this i wrote while the opening scene began in some random hotel… like yeah yeah yeah ghosts aliens etc. solve the gardner heist. OH MY the garnder heist hadn’t even happened by this time! well maybe if they had been at the scene it never would have happened.
in this hotel, we see a guy who looks scared knocking on the door looking for “Morris” and he says someone is dead!! guy next door is listening (and yeah, so fair, it sounded juicy as hell) but when the poor hotel neighbor stands up to listen he gets… sucked into ectoplasm?? he is no longer there. also, lights are flickering.
agents in the elevator, arriving to the scene. mulder looked really comfortable in there lmaooo that was a very funny visual.
they got information from this case from scully's "contact", and the contact is one of her students!!!!!! ahhh!! she looks so proud. this is funny because she was at the academy for like 3 months lmao but clearly she made a good impression in that brief amount of time!
“heard a lot about you” detective kelly says when scully introduces mulder and HAHAAAA he turns to scully and says “we’ll talk later”. about what. do share.
(very funny that somehow he came up "a lot" in the 3-ish months she was teaching people how to do autopsies. like girl how did you manage to bring him up consistently whilst opening cadavers. that is talent)
investigation time! (mulder sniffs a drink in the missing guy’s room) "mmm, scotch" he mumbles <- LMAOOOOO THIS MAN IS WEIRD AS HELL
they notice a big splotch burned into the ground, and as they are investigating the burn marks, scully says it “could be the residue of burnt human flesh” and yes!!!!! I love when she says weird and unsettling things!!!!
mulder seems enthused about this case and also that there is a young detective…… give them an intern i need to see what happens. that man seems to have an instinctive need to Mentor.
detective kelly asks him what he thinks happened. the answer? “spontaneous human combustion” yes ofc!!
SCULLY IS SO SWEET AWWW “you’re doing just fine :)” she is not going to let her student doubt herself!
scully kinda sounds like she thinks mulder is teasing the detective with such an outlandish claim but i think he’s just being himself honestly
re:human combustion “let’s just forget for the moment that there’s no scientific theory to support it” “okay :)” <- yeah i had to pause and laugh. so what!
WHAT is he doing when they get in the elevator... he is making such a strange face. does anyone have this. it was so funny. he was at once locked in and a million miles away.
okay. so this wasn't the first victim. now they are arriving at the place of an earlier victim. which is a house with all the lights off. peculiar.
“hey scully, can you spare a prophylactic?” (now yes i did have to google this word's definition!) here is my live reaction:
"like a glove? because google is also saying that this can also mean condom. okay she pulls out a glove from her pocket. okay that’s the good ending i think"
makes sense for the doctor to have lots of gloves in the pocket of her jacket. more sense than the other alternative. i was really confused for a few seconds but in the end we got there.
he uses the glove to switch the light bulb on and she says “darkness covers a multitude of sins” which is EXACTLY what i'm here for!!! please keep saying creepy stuff queen <3
enter the home... another splotch from the other victim!! who also worked in tobacco, like the hotel man!!! but he says half of richmond works in tobacco, and the first victim was a scientist, so maybe not…? but regardless this realization made me think of that post that is like “people smoke less and now we don’t get spontaneous human combustion” which is soooo funny to me. if i ever find that post again i Will reblog it. it is true, spontaneous human combustion is a lost art.
mulder is very excited to dig through the trash, which is very raccoon-coded. he finds a ticket to a train station, and suggests that perhaps someone based out of the train station is hunting people.
cut to our deeply scared looking man from earlier who seems to be able to vaporize people. WAIT... earlier it was his shadow that vaporized the other guy. and he’s hiding from light... things are adding up. no light equals no shadow equals no vaporization. sort of adding up, at least. because still, how does a shadow vaporize you?
now he was getting held at gunpoint by cops, both of whom stepped into his shadow and get zapped into splotches. this is a distressing situation, but also a silly one.
new mulder theory: if we have 3 victims, and they were all near the train station, we could cross reference the security camera footage from those 3 days and see if we can find the guy they've looking for. “that’s assuming that we’re looking for a guy”, says scully, which made me laugh because i had seen that blooper clip and giggled profusely
mystery man is spotted on the camera and jacket identified as working at the magnet place… same as the very first victim!
off to the magnet laboratory to get the scoop on this dr. banton fellow. we get a backstory reveal: he was involved in a terrible accident! he was investigating dark matter. oh man, you can’t be fucking with such things.
the scientist guy is babbling about particles and dark matter. and while i am trying to keep up, there are bigger thoughts taking up space in my mind. namely: scully you are soooooo pretty idgaf about the particle accelerator <3
we see the scene of the accident, where dr. banton's shadow was burned into the wall……. the energy slid through his body?? girl idk. his coworker said it was almost like he wanted it to happen. maybe you get so involved in dark matter theories that you just want to taste it for yourself. anyway, the shadow left by the zapping looks like the other splotches…..
train station time. going with the agents to the train station. boy i wish all of the US was supported by a rail system.
he points out that dr. banton was staring at the ground for a loooong time and he's trying to figure out why.
“nonsensical repetitive behavior is a common trait of mental illness” “you trying to tell me something?” YESSSS! i have seen this gif many times and now i understand its context.
(also yes mulder has got Something going on. he has been diagnosed in my headcanon with ocd... i am sure there has been plenty of discourse as to if that is the "correct" label for what is going on in his mind but it's my interpretation and i make the rules <3)
he's taking in the whole environment of the train station, and notices that the light is soft… diffused… no shadows… maybe dr.banton is looking for such an environment... BAM he rounds the corner!
aaaand he’s running but you cannot forget that mulder is a track star! you cannot outrun him! and sure enough, they got him. mulder picks up on what's going down and shoots the lights out so there are no shadows while they talk
now banton is in a facility with soft light smoking a cigarette. very 2013 aesthetic.
he's trying to explain his affliction: “my shadow isn’t mine… it’s like a black hole”
first thought: okay??? um. how and why. second thought: can we harness this for superhero purposes? fight crime by banishing the bad guys to the Void. that's an x-men adjacent power.
dr. banton says the government is after him and they are going to "suck his brain". he begs mulder to free him before this can occur, as if that is a normal predicament to try and escape from and as if mulder has any control over this situation.
the detective’s boss is pissed the FBI is there... like girl calm down does anyone really care? all this nonsense about jurisdiction and people getting frustrated when departments cross. man, if i was in a situation like this, i would be harnessing the power of teamwork, but they never seem to do that. the agents are dismissed, but mulder tells detective kelly that dr. banton needs to be in soft light.
okay, so despite my interjection of "girl who cares", clearly they care. and i'd like to wonder aloud about this exchange:
“I hope you know what you’re doing Scully, putting Detective Ryan’s ambition ahead of all good sense in this case”
“Ambition? She’s a woman trying to survive the boy’s club, Mulder. Believe me, I know how she feels”
because he’s like “we just handed over the a bomb to the Boy Scouts”
and he thinks this new detective is gonna get evaporated but also again they have no jurisdiction so like?? i wrote that i was lost and then i rewatched the scene and was still lost. he seems to be questioning scully's judgement on letting the detective take this case, which she was not in charge of assigning the detective to, and that they only agreed to help out on. so they help and then there is nothing more that can be done because it is Not Their Case. but it also seems to be less about the fact that he is concerned with the detective getting evaporated and more into fending off the alleged brain suckers.
i didn't really get it but i wrote "the girls are fightingggggg"
X AT THE STATION???
ohhhh mulder wants info, but X can’t help him because he exposed his identity to skinner and scully last time!!! “and you can trust them as you trust me”, says mulder, trying to get X to believe in the goodness of humanity
X brushes mulder off and says “promise you won’t contact me again unless absolutely necessary” <- damn power imbalance going crazy
then we se X at the psychiatric facility???? breaking dr. banton out??? is he gonna be part of the brain sucking squad? he's got 2 guys helping him out, but they step in the room and the men grabbing him got zapped out of existence. X lets dr. banton run and looks very confused about the zapping of his colleagues.
HUH? so is X doing this because he is trying to help mulder or is he really part of the government who wants to experiment on banton? by the end of the episode, it looks like he is, in fact, allied with the brain suckers... but to what extent?
OH! dr. banton got back to his old workplace and his friend the fellow magnet scientist. but the detective catches him there. and she forces him to step against the wall and his shadow gets on her and she. uh. falls screaming into a black hole? and then leaves a burn mark like all of the other cases? man what is going on.
so banton is going back into the chamber where he was previously zapped to try and unzap himself. but he gets in the chamber and his “friend” reveals he’s working for the government that wants to catch him!!!!
BUT SOMEONE SHOOTS THE DUDE WHO HAD LOCKED HIM IN THE ROOM. It was X?! WHAT is the motive here!!!
okay, agents on the scene. accelerator is up and getting ready to zap. ZAP! another shadow shows up. so unzap the zapped equals no more banton? girl where did he go.
mulder is MAD and he is at the place X met him last time. confrontation time! mulder is pissed X used him to get to banton and again X is once again flaunting the power imbalance between them. and because X tricked him, banton is dead and so is the detective!!! boy, that has got to be bad news for mulder who blames himself for everything
he says to X: “promise me this will be our last meeting. we’re finished” and why do I feel that this is a bad idea!!!
X says he didn’t kill banton, and walks away. and also that this is a dangerous time to go at it alone. WHAT DO YOU MEAN! first skinner's cryptic messages about the darkness that is coming, and now X?
NOOOO Scully at her student the detective's funeral... this is soooo evil.
mulder is there but he’s late. he’s in sunglasses and they’re funny. she says this feels wrong and it shouldn’t have happened, a student came to her for help and she gave it and now the student is dead. oh scully pls do not blame yourself. it feels like they were led on this track on purpose.
mulder was late because he was tied up with a missing person’s case; the other guy from the magnet lab went missing that same morning. so maybe it was other guy in the room that had been zapped and not banton?
X AT THE SCENE OF THE MAGNET LAB. watching the other guy run tests on banton??? a tear drops down his face. X is complicit in unethical human experimentation...
so, i’m confused on many levels. it seems like someone got the detective involved because she knew she would go to scully for help and get them roped into this case. but if that WAS what happened, you know that you buy one get one free with these 2, so why would you want to get scully involved if that meant mulder would also get involved, and mulder being the closest (arguably) to X would expose X’s involvement and whatever ulterior motive he is playing to? hasn’t scully suffered enough without being forced to wonder if her helping someone started a domino effect that resulted in death? and all of this is over a guy who zapped himself with black matter and his shadow burns people up. huh?
and how deep is X in with the government doing the evil stuff? is he just distracting mulder with various side quests to keep him from discovering the nefarious deeds they are up to? does X know cigarette guy?
i don’t like when they fight. i actually LOVE when they fight over things that make sense. but i was confused over the fight they had in this episode because he was mad that she was letting the detective… do her job? and he didn’t seem to think she could handle a guy that vaporizes people with his shadow, which i mean, fair enough, tough case for a newbie, but blaming that on scully really pissed me off because?? it’s not her fault??? they also were only involved unofficially so did he think somehow they were supposed to swoop in and rescue the dude to prevent all this from happening? and how do you even rescue a guy whose shadow vaporizes people?
either this makes no sense, i’m wildly misunderstanding something, or a plot is afoot. or all three really. pls feel free to enlighten me with what you thought on this episode and let me know if there is something i am interpreting entirely incorrectly. or not! it could be fun to try and put the pieces together myself. regardless, i am pleased we were reunited
#we did get some good banter this episode so that was good#normally i would add more in the notes but i'm very tired for some reason so i leave you with this!#pls enjoy#juni's x files liveblog#the x files#txf
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Incorrect Quotes
Harry: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly. Valkyrie, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.
Valkyrie: I refuse to apologize for being weird or off-putting. That’s actually your problem. I’m having a fantastic time!
Harry: WHY DID YOU KILL HIM?! HE COULD HAVE HAD HOPES AND DREAMS, HE COULD HAVE HAD A FAMILY!!! Valkyrie: Harry- Valkyrie: It- it was just an ant-
Valkyrie: I eat cheerios because they’re heart healthy. Valkyrie: And my heart has been severely damaged, so Militsa, if you’re out there—
Harry: I wanna be a knight! Valkyrie, a knight: What the fuck do you want this shit for? I kill people, all right? Their blood is on my hands! Every night, when I go to sleep, I see their FUCKING faces staring at me! Their families weep, and I FEEL NOTHING! I’M DEAD INSIDE! Harry: Man, I want some of that in my life!
Valkyrie: Do you want some tea? Fletcher: What are the options? Valkyrie: Yes or no.
Harry: Do you feel any better? Valkyrie: I feel much better now that you here with me. Fletcher walks in Valkyrie: I feel half better.
Fletcher: I’m so excited! Valkyrie: We’re gonna have the best costumes, get the most candy… Fletcher: And have the biggest stomach aches ever! Valkyrie: Yeah!
Fletcher: What do you three have to say for yourself? Nefarian: Skulduggery: Valkyrie: Oops?
Valkyrie: What’s wrong? Harry: I have to write a whole paragraph for school. Valkyrie: That’s not so bad; I write entire books. Harry: Yeah, but this has to be good.
Nefarian: Dude, I will never forgive Craigslist for banning me after I wrote a post seeking a sworn nemesis. Whoever reported that is obviously my nemesis but I was so pissed.
Skulduggery: Just trust me. Have I ever put you in an unsafe or uncomfortable situation? Fletcher: All the time. Skulduggery: Then you should be used to it by now.
Harry: Last night I found out Valkyrie is a sleep talker. Skulduggery: Oh, really? Harry: "The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell." Right. In. My. Ear. At 3am.
Nefarian: cooking Fletcher: kicks down door Fletcher: grabs knife from Nefarian's hand Fletcher: WHAT DID I TELL YOU ABOUT DESTRUCTIVE BEHAVIOR? Nefarian: Nefarian: What. Harry: He's trying to tell you he wants to cook.
Nefarian: Wow, left handed AND British? You really are an illusion.
Fletcher: How do Valkyrie and Harry usually get out of these messes? Skulduggery: They don't. They just make a bigger mess that cancels the first one out.
Nefarian: Help! I’m drowning! Valkyrie: Calm down. We’re only in six feet of water! Nefarian: NOT ALL OF US ARE TALL!
Skulduggery: Come on, you need to go to bed. Harry Snuffles says that I can stay up as long as I want. And that you need to die! Skulduggery: … Skulduggery: What the hell, Sirius—
Skulduggery: So what’s the plan? Harry: I don’t know. You’re smart, points at Valkyrie they’re mean, come up with something.
Skulduggery: I dunno if I'm ready to process the ramifications of this bullshit.
Harry: So anyways have y'all seen Skulduggery? Valkyrie: I think they went in Nefarian's room 'studying'. Fletcher: Doubt that. I heard groans there. Meanwhile in Nefarian's room Skulduggery & Nefarian, fighting:
Harry, looking at a selfie of Valkyrie’s: I hate this photo. Valkyrie: I’m cute as fuck in that photo! I’m smiling kindly. Harry: You’re not smiling kindly; you look like you’re up to something. Valkyrie: Up to kindness.
Nefarian: Sometimes, I don’t realize an event was traumatic until I tell it as a funny story and notice everyone is staring at me weird.
Valkyrie: Stands in trash can. Skulduggery: Valkyrie, not again! You're not trash, you're at least recycling!
Valkyrie: Nefarian always accuses me of having a favourite but that’s not true. Valkyrie: I love Harry and all the not-Harrys equally.
Skulduggery, at the slightest provocation: I came into this earth screaming and covered in someone else's blood and and I'm not afraid to leave the same way.
Fletcher: Nefarian, you need to react when people cry! Nefarian: I did. I rolled my eyes.
Nefarian, shooing Skulduggery away: Can you go be depressed over there? You’re bumming out my whole area.
Nefarian: It smells like henway in here. Skulduggery: Harry: Skulduggery. Harry, forcefully: Doesn't it smell like henway in here? Skulduggery: sigh Skulduggery: What's a henway? Nefarian: OH ABOUT TEN POUNDS!
Valkyrie: I think I need a hug… Fletcher: Good thing I'm hug shaped! 45 minutes later Valkyrie: You… you can let go now. Fletcher: No, I absolutely cannot.
Valkyrie: Fletcher won’t wake up, what do I do? Nefarian: Did you try kicking him? Valkyrie: Yes. Nefarian: I’m out of ideas.
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