#max has been dying their hair on and off for like three years now too
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
earthmoonz · 8 months ago
Text
Tumblr media
wifey - max’s instagram 1/?
I do feel that max rarely uses their socials (insta and twitter) since their mum passed. they defo lurk from time to time but these days they're often too wrapped up in the chaos of real life to worry about what's happening on the internet...
19 notes · View notes
obsidian-chika · 4 years ago
Text
Kakashi Hatake x Male Reader
Oneshot
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
It was like any other normal day for (M/n). Waking up to and empty bed and finding a note in the kitchen. He never wanted to hold Kakashi back from his job, but his insecurities were spiraling out of control again. With the lack to time they spent together, he was scared Kakashi didn’t love him anymore. They’ve been together for about two to three years now. He was told many time by Kakashi that he is loved, but insecurities never go away, do they.?
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
(M/n) decided to go out around the village today. Visiting shops and simply just walking around, sightseeing. It was quite a surprise when he ran into team seven during his outing. Weren’t they out on a mission with Kakashi?
“Naruto? Aren’t you Sasuke and Sakura supposed to be on a mission with Kakashi right now?”
“We’re spying on Kakashi-Sensei, believe it!”
Staring at him dumbfounded, “he’s not on duty?”
“He was spotted with a lady. Not sure who he is, but they were together,” answered Sasuke.
“It could be his girlfriend for all we know,” Sakura added.
Going silent with the new found information, (M/n) wanted to go home now. He couldn’t blame Sakura with what she said since their relationship was never brought to the public eye, only a selective few knew about it. Now he wanted to be in bed, curled up in a ball, and cry. Turning around to leave, something gripped him arm, preventing him from leaving.
Turning around to see Naruto holding his arm, “I was planning to leave, what else did you need from me, Naruto?”
“Why don’t you join us, maybe we’ll learn more about him together!”
Wanting to object Naruto’s reasoning for you to stay, but he didn’t seem to give (M/n) any other choice, and ended up dragging him to tag along with the other two.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
Dying sounded so much better than hearing what was being said by the two below, or to two next to him. (M/n) wasn’t really paying attention to what was going on either way, only wanting to go home and sleep his feelings away. He told the three that he would be there, but not be there at the same time. A loud noise startled him. Only to regret looking down.
Kakashi and the lady kissed. Even if was an accident all his insecurity feelings said other wise. He was starting to slightly panic. He was still in the tree while the other three fell down. The scene in front of him wasn’t a very pleasant one to the eyes.
Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura were either nervously saying something or staring. To make things worse, Naruto took the flowers from Sakura pointing it in the couple’s direction.
“Congratulations!” Shouted Naruto.
Kakashi didn’t say anything but nervously smiled, while the Lady thanked them.
Watching this made (M/n) want to crawl in a hole and die. He decided to just leave before he started breaking down.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
Tears ran down his face as he left. Not wanting to return to their shared apartment, the training grounds was his next best place to go. He wanted to train his body to the max. Not caring if he was injured after, he went and vented everything out. Turning his compressed emotions all into anger wanting release.
Scratches and bruises decorated his body. Tired and worn out, he sat down next to one of the many trees, gazing at the sky. He felt really dizzy. Black and white spots started to fill his vision and his body gave out. Falling to the ground, he closed his eyes.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
It’s been almost three days now and no one has heard from you. The hokage found it odd that you didn’t visit him like you usually do, while Kakashi was panicking on where you could possibly be. There were chances you possibly died, until Kakashi remembered that you were an a hiatus from missions. That still didn’t ease his mind about your safety.
It didn’t help him when it was reported you were severally injured and hospitalized too. He took time off from missions with team seven just to constantly be by your side and take care of you. He’s very scared to lose you like he did with everyone else. You meant a lot to him, even though he had some trouble showing it.
It’s been around a week and Kakashi wasn’t feeling so great. One week without hearing anything from you. No words. No physical contact. Not even your awesome cooking. He missed it all so much. Time seemed to be passing slower for him than those around him.
Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura would sometimes drop by to visit you, along with bringing over flowers. The hokage dropped by once or twice as well. A few others also came by to visit, but Kakashi wanted you to wake up so bad. Constantly sitting by you and holding your hand.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
Another four days passed. It was late and Kakashi was sitting by the unconscious, bedridden male. Half way through the night, there was a slight twitch in Kakashi’s hand. He brushed it off thinking but was only his imagination playing with him. That was until there was a shift in the bed and a low sound that clearly didn’t come from him.
He stared at the male who has just awoken from being out for almost two weeks. He tackled that now awake male onto the hospital bed. He was shedding tears of relief and joy, but he was also upset with the male. What on earth did he do to get like this? We’re there people Kakashi needed to hurt in order to protect him?
“What the hell happened to you, dear? You looked really bad when they fond you, and they also said you over used your chakra,” Kakashi’s face was full of worry for (M/n).
“I don’t know . . . ” was the answer given. Kakashi didn’t like that. So, he kept pushing and pestering about it knowing the male would crack, giving in, then telling the truth.
“I- It- Well-” (M/n) stammered, “my insecurities were there. I was hoping to spend note time with you soon since we haven’t really been spending too much time together. I was planning to ask you if you wanted to go out together, but you were busy and I didn’t want to hold you back.”
There was a small silence between the two males. Taking Kakashi’s silence as a sign to continue, the male did just that.
“I know I shouldn’t be doubting out relationship, but I really can’t stop myself from thinking about the worst. I got dragged by Naruto, Sasuke, and Sakura because they said they saw you with some lady and it could be good for me to learn more about you’re life. See the kiss and congratulations from your team didn’t help me any better. I didn’t want to dwell more on the thoughts and decided to train. It’s probably from my old training habits I was hurt this bad. I’m really sorry.”
(M/n) couldn’t bring himself to look at Kakashi’s eyes. He felt so vulnerable and small in front of his partner. Eyes starting to tear up as well. He was looking at anything but Kakashi, while Kakashi felt really guilty. It was hard to control what people feel and events that take place, but now that he was thinking back to the past few weeks, (M/n) and him rarely had time together.
“Dear, I’m sorry I’ve been neglecting you,” Kakashi said, wiping (M/n)’s tears, “how about be spend some time together. I’ll request a small break to stay with you. Plus, those wounds won’t heal themselves, will they?”
(M/n) smiled at Kakashi’s words. Wrapping his arm tighter around the silver haired male’s waist. Kakashi leaned in, wrapping his arms around the other’s neck, bringing each other closer until their foreheads were touching. They started into each other’s eyes, slowly leaning in for a kiss.
“You’re my only one (M/n). I won’t love someone the way I love you.”
The moonlight showered both of them in its rays as they cherished the time they were spending together in each other’s arms.
✼ •• ┈┈┈┈๑⋅⋯ ୨˚୧ ⋯⋅๑┈┈┈┈ •• ✼
Tumblr media
479 notes · View notes
withoneheadlight · 3 years ago
Text
| billy & will + pre-harringrove | full fic in spanish |
~
There’s an in-between. The high school and the middle school. A bare piece of land, yellowed from the lack of grass and the rough kiss of the sun and, right in the middle, an old shack.
It's a shabby thing that accumulates lack of re-paintings and excess of humidity but that’s out of sight, in that way of things that are just there but no one wastes time looking at anymore are.
That's where they meet.
Billy lights up a smoke. Slides his ass up an ancient, long retired desk, pasture now of the damp and rot, and leans against the peeling wood. Front and back-row seat to the long column of trees the wind’s rippling along on the other side of the wire fence. The ember warms up his lips as he inhales a deep puff and exhales a,
“You’re getting soft, Billy Hargrove”
He leans his head back and closes his eyes, ears on that ceaseless chirping of the bids that sews together the slow-passing hours of the days and nights of Indiana, and on the delighted screams from the middle-schoolers, remembering that, somewhere in there, there's a bunch of kids who will still be laughing just as hard, just as happy, a few years down the road. That maybe even Max could be one of them, if Billy hurries. That maybe he will too, if Billy is able to control that instinctive reaction that pulls his skin inward and screams at him to stopstopstop, that the soft skin shreds, falls apart so easily.
But maybe it can be both of them, if Billy manages to clench his teeth hard enough and keep on softening.
‘Cause soft skin hurts when it breaks but,
"Hey!"
Sometimes it’s worth it.
Will’s smiling wide. Stops running, abruptly, and then just stands in there, panting. He’s got a funny nose and giant eyes. The kind of bangs that make you wanna blow them out of his eyes even though what they're is too short, actually, and Billy’s always thought he'd do better in life if he didn't. Notice things. If he didn't see that widewidewidewide smile and could read it so easily.
"I've been dying to show you this!" Will kneels down into the grass, chopping out the words in between exhalations. Pulls at the zipper of his backpack, chest heaving, and he doesn't realize he's going to get dirt on the knees of his jeans or that Billy can read it. His relief. Of finding him in here and not just an empty desk. Of how for a kid every single day more means 'You care’.
(About me)
It was early December. Friday right after last period and one of those silly things that only happen in movies. Something so like scripted and choreographed that Billy nearly considered looking up at the ceiling to make sure John Hughes wasn't silently watching them, taking notes from above. They crashed in the middle of a corner. Billy sped up ‘cause he was in a hurry and the only way to catch Max in time lately was to intercept her right out of class. Will ‘cause he's always going like that, Billy knows now. Always a thousand miles per hour. Always verging on time-jump speed to then being the kind of kid who seems so quiet it's scary. They crashed. Hard. In the middle of that corner. Papers flying all over and a curse (Will) and a muffled groan (Billy) and they ended up pulling at the same paper one from each corner. A drawing. Trolls and wizards and a castle and an emerald-green light. A star in the distance, auguring bad omens. Billy forgot to be frightening and Will must have forgotten he was supposed to be frightened when he blurted out a,
"Fuck, Byers. This is frikin’ fantastic."
No fear or reticence or that way he sometimes has of bumping into words and stumbling, just a "Really?" eyes huge and bangs brushing against his eyelashes as he blinked when Billy also forgot he was also supposed to― well, supposed to be Billy Hargrove.
"’Got more?"
So now he skips English instead of Algebra, every Tuesday and Thursday. Sneaks off to that in-between place he knows no one wastes time looking at anymore to light up a smoke, same time as Will has his recess. And the kid doesn't always manage to shrug off of his flock of nerds but he’s lucky, some days.
And he brings the drawings.
Orcs and goblins and enchanted mountains on the northwest and it seems to Billy that there are more princes than princesses and that if there are any, they’re almost always sorceresses, almost always queens and that your attention gets hooked on their burning eyes, not in the clothes they’re missing and Billy feels like it's a small grain of sand, this thing they’re doing. Knows that someone’s already keeping a solid ground under Will's feet ('Joyce' he says it’s her name. And it stings, the way he manages to fit so much love, into such a tiny word). But it also seems to him that maybe it doesn't take much more, for Will, just a few grains of sand, to replace those that being a strange kid in a small town sick with apprehension for what it finds strange, takes every day away from him.
So Billy’s gotta have to clench his teeth ‘till his gums start bleeding ‘cause is that, or let his skin toughen up again. Is that. Or fucking everything up.
And ave María, Billy doesn’t want to fuck it all up again.
So he sucks on his cigarette. Hooks up an eyebrow. Waves his hand to hurry the kid up.
“Mmm. That’s how good you think it is, dickwad? ‘C’mon, got my next class in twenty”
Will flies over the papers. Head nodding and fingers skimming fast. Finds what he’s looking for and yanks it out, raises it up triumphantly in his hand. It’s the sword in the stone and he carries it up to Billy with wet knees and just a little mud-staining. It’s February and the sun’s burning brightly over all the wetness the night’s spent crying. The drawing is a huge dragon, wings made of leather and cartilage, spread out in eclipse in front of the moon, only a few silver rays illuminating the dark knight in front of it. Blue eyes lined in black, blond curls cascading down his back and Billy was clenching his teeth but they part now, ‘cause the figure looks too much like him to be a coincidence. A smile devours his whole mouth. Soft. A joke itching on the tip of his tongue. He grunts a,
“I’ve been called many things. But never this, Byers”
Only half his expression’s visible, eyebrows covered with those thick bangs, and Billy has to once again fight the impulse to blow them out.
“¿Hum?”
“Knight” he says, drawling the teasing tone out “In shining armor”
And It’s such a loss, all that hair. Because it’d pass unseen, if you don’t know him. The way his eyebrows spike up underneath and it burrows in between them, the eagerness of teasing back. But Billy’s lucky, ‘cause it’s been more than two months like this and Billy―
Knows him. Well enough at least. So it doesn't pass unseen to him.
“You know the drill, William. Spit it out. Can see you’re holding it up from miles”
Will purses his lips out tight. Looks like he’s trying but. Nah.
“Wouldn’t be that shiny '' scrunches his nose. Throws a meaningful glance at Billy’s disheveled looks. More thoughtful than not, way more intentional. But that's something he'll figure out when he grows up.
Billy cackles. Will's smile widens, satisfied. Hops onto the desk next to his. Billy offers him the cigarette.
“And―this?” Will shrugs inwardly. Glances up at him. Then down, at the exchange between their hands. Takes the cig in between two fingers and it doesn’t burn but he barely presses them against the filter, anyway, as if he’s afraid it would, all of a sudden.
"Retaliation," Billy half grunts, half laughs, and Will huffs, but swallows a deep breath to gather strength. Exhales. Takes a tiny puff and―
"Argg," coughscoughscoughs "This is. Ugh. It's awful. I don't know how you―” almost throws the cigarette back to him "Ufff, what a―" he hesitates "Yuck"
Billy snorts. Thinks about Max inhaling deep, no more than two weeks ago, eyes pining his in place. Breaking into a violent cough only a second later.
Billy pats Will’s back too.
“That’s good” he says “You better not like it” Will scrunches his whole face “And this too” Billy adds, shaking the drawing a little “This is good, too. Amazingly good, man”
Will. Stares. At him. One. Two. Three long seconds. And Billy hurts a little. With every single one. Three sharp stabs with that newly freed sword. A different kind of ' you care' each one: 'it seems so impossible to me (that you care)'. 'If you think so, maybe it's true (and I do care, that you think it)’. 'Thank you (for caring)'. And then. Those hidden eyebrows. Will’s cheeks puffing out a little when he bites the tip of his tongue and―
"Billy?" his eyes glint, heavy with ill-contained malice.
"Uh?"
"You're the dragon"
"You fucking ass―!"
Billy shoves him sideways. But Will just sways. He doesn't lose footing on that firm ground he’s standing on. Looks back at the drawing, hunches a shoulder up.
"But you’re the knight, too"
He says it in a tone that cuts straight through Billy’s chest Thank you he thinks, even though his soft skin is hurting. And he still doesn't blow hard on that bowl fringe from where it covers Will’s whole forehead but―
Stirs up all his hair instead.
“Eh!!”
“Hey, shitbird. Wanna see the one I’ve made?”
Will nods quickly. All contained-speed and reverberating and sometimes Billy doesn't know how so few people can see it, how big he is for his own skin and he thinks I wish, wish he'd accumulate enough grains of sand to raise up that firm ground under his feet, and get really, really high.
“Sure!”
He keeps it tucked away in the breast pocket of his jacket. Folded in upon itself. Same way he keeps everything else. Folds and layers and at the bottom of pockets no one ever looks at but.
He unfolds it to show it to Will Byers.
“Wow” Will says, and smiles up at Billy like Two months since we crashed against each other and I feel like I know you a little too, Billy Hargrove and Billy hit rock bottom but now at least Max and him sing AC/DC in chorus on the rides back home and Will's voice sounds like 'You're good' as he runs his fingertips over the graphite outlines of the skull and repeats, "Wow"
“Gonna have it done” Billy inhales a deep drag of Marlboro and 'Four Months to Eighteen' and for a moment it’s like he could feel the smoke curl up inside his lungs before blowing it out. The image is as pretty as it’s stupid. He glances at the open jaw of the drawing and thinks maybe he'd like a drag too "Have it healed for summer and―"
“What’s happening here?”
Steve.
Harrington.
Hand on his hips, preppy pastel polo lapels up, Ray-Bans holding up that way his hair swirls without really taming it. The twelve o'clock sun is shining sideways from his back and he's pretty. Painfully pretty. And Billy’s sure it's impossible that this redneck raised on corn and money amassed in dubious moral business is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen but sometimes he forgets. That it is impossible because. Fuck. It so seems like it. Light flicking on the ends of his hair where it curls. Under his ear. In the long curve of his neck. And the world doesn't halt and the birds don't stop chirping and the clouds don't part and no preternatural shit happens because this is the black hole where all the world's shit goes, Indiana. But. It so seems like it and,
Billy.
Knew how to breathe but that’s another thing he keeps on forgetting. Every time Steve Harrington passes him by.
He’s gotta force himself. To nod. To stop choking. When Will looks up at him with those big eyes. Questioning.
Apologizing.
Billy Hargrove, from freshly crowned local terror to―
“I was―” Will starts. Inhales. Presses his lips together right before blurting out the truth ‘cause he knows it's the only real way out "Showing Billy my drawings. Sometimes we―"
―the softie whose pride goes high up in his throat every time an eleven-year-old kid says 'Billy, this is good. It's very. Very good, Billy’.
"Sometimes we. Uhm. We―"
Will's already huge eyes get bigger, rounder. As if he’s just realizing that where he's stuck his foot keeps getting muddier, trapping himself all the way in. And Billy smiles lightly at him, sideways, so it’s hidden. From Steve Harrington. From all the world beyond. ‘Cause of that thing about facades and how hard they’re to maintain, when on one side is pressing what you're supposed to be and on the other, relentlessly, what you're hiding.
But Steve’s asking,
“Sometimes―what?” and Will’s eyes are fixed on Billy, two wide-open I’m sorrys and Billy thinks Fuck it, Hargrove. C’mon. Stop hiding.
So he’s the one who says,
“We share our drawings, Harrington”
And Steve.
He’s got those eyes.
They're like a troubled ocean in the heart of winter, those eyes. Hard, hard, hard. Imposing. But soft. So fucking soft. When something catches him off guard. Rolling stones in the breaker. And Billy wants to get swept up in them, like falling along the curve of a wave. Steve looks at him, and at the drawing in his hand, his eyes a swirl and, when he looks up, the calm. And Billy feels as those times when it seemed to him the waves wanted. To wrap around him. To catch him. Soft as the reflecting clouds. And Billy feels as those times when he’d let them. Carry him. Drag him to the shore. Safe and sound.
“Is that yours?” Steve frowns. When he does that. He looks the prettiest. And Billy's heart breaks. In tiny tiny pieces. Thinks This is what it takes, thinks Fuck, thinks, This is how things hurt when you let your skin get soft.
What you don’t have. What you want. What you could―
Fuck.
What you could love so bad you'd rip your own skin off, so they could touch your heart right with their own hands.
Billy nods. Will smiles. Steve’s frown softens and― waveswaveswaves. On an autumn morning. Waves lapping at the surface of an ocean of calm.
And now. Billy sings AC/DC with Max. His heart taking on water when his voice falls off-key and she clutches at her lungs, choking on laughter. Now, he sits in the back of an old shack halfway between who he is and who he should be and so, so very carefully turns at the pages of Will Byers' sketchbook.
And Billy Hargrove hit rock bottom one day in late October. Hit rock bottom and beat into pulp that pretty face he can't stop seeing in his dream. When he's asleep. When he's awake. Hit rock bottom and that's where he's going to stay. It's either that. Or risk coming up to the wrong surface. And it's easier, here at the bottom. Easier to see what matters, when you look up.
Here, Billy takes a breath. Deep. Deeper. Holds onto that air so he has something keeping him alive underwater when Steve snatches the drawing off his hands. Studies it carefully. Says,
"It's―Uhm. Well―" Grins "It's not. Beautiful. Like, conventionally." He eyes cut back to Billy and something in them breaks into whitewater, into that softness he can't help, as if everything else is as much of a lie as 'Billy Hargrove' and all those imaginary walls "But―"
He says ‘But’ and then. The bell goes off.
"Oh!" Will bounces on the spot "I have to―" he yanks the backpack shut "Class!"
He takes off. Running. Turning around right before the corner of the shack to wave at them, flashing one of those smiles Billy has involuntarily categorized as 'the good ones', wide and already almost panting again, before disappearing at the speed of light towards school and to, Billy hopes, be one of those few kids who are still going to be laughing just as hard, just as happy, a few years down the road. If they’re lucky.
(If Billy’s lucky)
Steve Harrington is still there, planted in front of him when the alarm stops.
"Can I bump one of those?" he asks, chin pointing to the smoke Billy's squeezing between his fingers. In the drift of his hair the Ray-Bans stay afloat, capsizing.
Billy bangs the base of the pack against his thigh, pops out a cigarette. Offers it to him. Scrapes his thumb along the wheel when Steve takes it to his lips, leaning forward and― It's broad daylight but in the thin glow of the flame it almost feels like it’s that exact instant when the world begins to fade, darkness turning wide-open spaces into narrow little universes: Steve Harrington and his red lips around the smoke and a small ache in the pad of Billy's thumb from keeping alive the fire and from wanting things with a bigger kind of ache, his heart cauterizing from holding inside the rage of knowing he's never, ever going to have them but―
"But?" Billy asks.
Steve grabs his wrist. Hollows out his cheeks. Inhales deep. Takes him a moment when he pulls away. To let go. Long enough that his fingers could read the way Billy's pulse is raging in his wrist, if he wanted to.
“But” And he’s smiling. Lopsided. He slips into Will's seat and stretches his neck toward the sky. Prolongs the wait. Exhales. "It's cute."
And then his gaze cuts down and he’s searching for him, with those eyes of his. For Billy, who can never stop looking at him so, when he finds him, finds him looking back already.
And Billy―
Billy.
"Cute?"
Billy. Blinks. His hand stops halfway from getting his own cigarette to his mouth. Stops his heart and it feels like time’s stopping too, in this narrowness Steve's presence has reduced the moment into. And he’s smiling big now. His eyes soft. Soft. So fucking soft. And Billy thinks,
You're getting soft too, Billy Hargrove. You want to let him shred off your skin, when Steve says,
"You," snorting a soft laugh, sun melting in his eyes like honey "With Will. Drawing."
Billy wants him to never stop looking at him like that. Wants to lean in, and kiss him.
"Shut up and smoke your fucking cigarette, Harrington" he growls.
And Steve rolls his eyes in a way that screams 'Gotcha, Hargrove', but leans his back against the peeling wood of the shack.
And does as he’s told.
(Next Tuesday, it's not just Will who shows up, when the bell starts ringing)
.
.
i just finished translating this and, since i had originally written this part as and stand-alone thing. here it is. idk if it's worth the work of translating it whole, or if i really feel like it but, we'll see!. i've been at war with life and writing this past few weeks but i've been missing you so much, fandom <3<3<3. hope you've been doing well.
also billy + will + drawing is one of my fav hcs and there are a few tiny things more that i wanna write? hopefully i will 🌟
111 notes · View notes
justlightlysedated · 3 years ago
Note
For the kisses prompts - #22 for Malex please 🧡
And thank you so much for finding the planetary alinement sequel fic for me 🧡🧡🧡
22. kisses in the rain
Alex is on the phone with Forrest, who calls him periodically every couple of days to talk about what he's doing, and Alex usually pays attention, or pretends to pay attention, but today he can't stop looking out of the window, at the rolling clouds, lighting up with flashes of lightning, the thunder rolls loudly, shaking the very vibrations of his house.
He watches the next flash of lightning and counts the seconds between it and the loud thunder.
Still a few minutes away, he thinks.
He's startled out of his thoughts by a loud knock on his door, and he hears Forrest, sounding a little pissed off, like he's been trying to get his attention but Alex isn't responding.
He picks the phone up, takes it off speaker, and puts it to his ear, mouth open to speak, but then the banging on the door sounds again, and Isobel Evans' voice, of all people sounds out, loud enough that it would have probably been picked up by the speaker.
"Alex! I know you're in there. I don't care if you're balls deep in that Nazi obsessed blue haired twink, we need to talk!"
"I have to go," Alex says, and hangs the phone up on Forrest asking him what's going on, and winces slightly, before he shrugs and drops his phone back on the counter.
He gets up from the couch, reaching for his crutch, since he hadn't been expecting any visitors, and starts to make his way to the door.
Isobel, of course, doesn't have the decency to let him open the door. She opens his locked door, practically blasting it off its hinges and she stalks into the house, eyes finding Alex immediately.
"Where is he?" She demands, stalking forward, one hand aloft, eyes sharp, like she's getting ready to pry the information out of his head if he doesn't answer fast enough.
"Who?" Alex asks, because he's well versed in Isobel enough to know that if she was talking about Forrest it would be in a mocking tone, not one that is tinged with desperation.
"Michael," she says in an obvious tone, and just hearing his name makes Alex's heartbeat spike. "He's been missing for days, and he only did that whenever he was holed up with you."
Alex shakes his head, feeling anxiety and worry bleed into him, "I haven't seen Michael since he walked out of Pony during my set, making it very clear what he thought about my song."
Isobel gives him an incredulous look, but Alex isn't sure what part of his statement she's having trouble believing.
"Over the last year the most contact we've had was text messages when he needed information, so if he's fucked off somewhere it definitely wasn't with me."
Isobel shakes her head, and she looks more irritated than anything, "God save me from my fucking oblivious brothers."
She turns to look back at Alex, "Max is dying. His new heart is failing, and he's known the whole time, and just let us know a few weeks ago. Michael isn't taking it well, and I thought that he'd come to you, but I'm guessing he knows about the Nazi obsessed blue haired twink that periodically warms your bed-"
"He has a name, you know?" Alex says, interrupting her, but Isobel continues speaking like he hadn't spoken.
"-which would explain his dive into the negative spectrum of emotions when he had been feeling pretty hopeful and anticipating your arrival."
Alex blinks at her, feeling confused, "He was hopeful?"
Isobel shakes her head at him, "But I was wrong. I'm wasting my time, because he'd never come here after a rejection."
"Rejecti-?" Alex starts to ask, feeling even more lost than before, but Isobel just turns around and heads back out of his house without even a wave of goodbye.
The slamming of the door coincides with a rumble of thunder, making Alex jump a little.
He hears his phone ringing back where he left it, and he knows that it's going to be Forrest.
A small part of him wants him to go back and answer the phone and explain about ex sort of sisters-in-law who don't know how to wait for someone to open the door, but there is an increasingly louder part of him that is yelling at him that he knows exactly where Michael is, that instead of offering his sort of boyfriend, sort of not boyfriend, any explanations, he should go and demand one from Michael instead.
Alex nods his head sharply and then turns to head to his room. If he's going out into that storm that's brewing, he's going to need to prepare himself.
-
Alex finds Michael at their spot off the Desert View dirt road that leads from town to Fosters Ranch. The truck is hardly visible to the road, but Alex knows exactly where it is.
Alex doesn't pay too much attention as he carefully parks his car next to the truck, and he turns off the car without looking to make sure that Michael was there.
He clenches his hands around the steering wheel and breathes in deeply, and then breathes out slowly.
And then he shakes his head and tells himself to stop being nervous or scared or whatever he was being right now, it was just Michael.
Alex lets go of the steering wheel, and gets out of the car, closing the door with a slam that gets swallowed up by the thunder that sounds immediately after the flash of lightning.
Alex breathes in deeply and closes his eyes at the smell of ozone filling the air.
Alex loves thunderstorms and when it rains so hard the smell of it permeates everything. It makes him sad and melancholy, but also fills him with a mellow sort of happiness.
It's Michael, in a scent that Alex can find anywhere. It's not as good as the real thing, but it helped whenever Alex faltered during the last year.
He looks at the truck, searching for Michael, staring into the cab of the truck, and jumping a little when he finds him sitting on the tailgate.
He looks like he hasn't moved in a while, and he doesn't even twitch when the thunder crashes again.
Alex takes him in for a moment. His face is being covered by his hat, but his clothes looked nicer than anything that Alex has ever seen him wear. Even in the dim light, he can tell that his jeans have no holes, and the sweater he's wearing actually looks soft, and like it actually fits him.
It makes something warm and fuzzy curl in the pit of his stomach, that Michael is doing good, that he's happy and well. Well, he's not really happy right now, if Isobel is to be believed, but from the small, unasked for updates that Kyle gives him whenever they meet up for beers, he knows that Michael hasn't been miserable or drinking like a fish or getting into bar fights or dating anyone.
Alex shakes his head to get rid of the last thought, because he knows better than to hope for anything. If the last three years, since he came back to Roswell the first time have taught him anything, it was that Michael was over him, and Alex just needed to get over it.
Which was much easier said than done.
Alex had thought that he had been making steps towards that, but he could feel the tips of his fingers tingling just from proximity.
Maybe this was a mistake.
As soon as he thinks the words, Michael turns and looks at him. His lips are parted like he was going to speak, and then he seems to realize that Alex was the one standing there, and not Isobel or Max.
Their eyes lock, and Alex feels his heart skip several beats, before it starts racing, matching his quickening breaths.
Lightning flashes and thunder crashes as they look at each other, and Alex has a feeling like something mystical, something alien is about to happen.
Alex walks closer to the truck and Michael doesn't move or say anything, just continues to stare at him, eyes too big, like he's not sure that Alex is real.
Alex sits down next to him and the truck moving up and down with Alex's weight is what snaps Michael's gaze away from him.
"Hi," Alex says, and his voice comes out breathless and quivering, but he pushes forward anyway. "It's good to see you."
"What are you doing here, Alex?" Michael asks, the question falling out of his mouth almost as soon as Alex finishes speaking.
"Isobel came to see me," he says, and Michael scoffs, looking at Alex and quickly away. "She said you were missing, and she thought you were at my place, and it wasn't until she left that I realized I knew exactly where you were."
Michael shakes his head, scoffing again, as he turns to give Alex a sardonic look.
"That doesn't answer the question. What did Isobel let slip 'accidentally' that made you come all the way over here, when you haven't bothered with a hello since you've been back?"
Alex bristles immediately at the implications in his tone, getting defensive, "I don't owe you anything, Guerin."
"I'm not expecting anything from you, Manes," Michael drawls, a mean smirk on his mouth.
Alex scoffs, "Really? Because it sure seems like you were expecting something."
Michael looks away at that, but Alex is just gearing up.
"Which is the part of all of this that is confusing me. I understand you coming out here and wanting to be alone because your brother is dying, again," Michael flinches at the words, and Alex wants to reach out and comfort him somehow, but instead he keeps talking.
"What I don't understand is you being hopeful about us and taking me being with someone else as a rejection. Michael, you were the one who ended things between us. You pushed me away and reminded me at every turn that while I wasn't like my family, I also wasn't what you wanted."
Michael is looking at him now, eyes wet with tears, brow furrowed, and he's shaking his head a little, like Alex is speaking about something that he doesn't understand.
He doesn't say anything in the lull of Alex's flow of speech, so Alex keeps talking.
"I am sorry, you know," he says. "About the song. I wasn't expecting you to be there when I was performing it. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
"What?" Michael asks, sounding disbelieving, and he fully turns, tilting his head up a little so that he can see Alex's face clearly. "Why would you think that I was uncomfortable?"
"You walked in while I was in the middle of singing, and you left the second you realized exactly what the song was about. In conjunction with the fact that you'd just gotten your heart broken, I know you weren't walking into the bar expecting a declaration of love, and I'm sorry that I-"
"Alex," Michael says in a low voice, lowering his head just a little. "Stop apologizing."
Alex opens his mouth to speak, but stops when Michael reaches up and takes his hat off, tossing it to the side and ruffling a hand through his hair.
Without the hat, it's almost like a strip of armor that Michael had been wearing has come off, and he looks at Alex intently, "That's not why I left."
"Oh," Alex says, deflating. "Then why did you leave?"
Michael huffs out a humorless laugh, looking away.
"I thought I was doing what was best for us at the time. Maria had just broken up with me, and while I wasn't ready to jump into a relationship with you, I wanted things that I knew were selfish. And then I saw that Nazi obsessed blue haire-"
"So she got that from you?" Alex interrupts him, giving Michael an exasperated look.
Michael just shrugs unrepentant.
"I saw him there, watching you sing, and I just, I didn't think that in that moment, if given the choice, you'd pick me, not after everything that happened. So I left, because I wanted to give you the space to heal and to date whoever you wanted. But then I heard you were coming back home, and I don't know, I guess I couldn't stop myself from hoping that you were coming back for me."
Alex just stares at him, eyes wide, feeling like someone just turned his entire world upside down. He swallows hard, not really knowing how to respond.
"Michael, I-"
But Michael shakes his head, getting to his feet and standing in front of Alex.
"You don't owe me anything, remember?"
Alex just shuts his eyes, and inhales deeply.
After a couple of seconds where Michael just keeps staring at him, and the storm brews ever closer, thunder so loud and near that it reverberates through Alex's bones, he speaks again.
"I was ready, you know," he says, trying really hard to sound casual and failing. Alex opens his eyes to stare at him, but Michael is looking up at the sky, the flashes of lightning caught in his eyes.
"Or I thought that I was,” he continues, shaking his head and then looking back at Alex and jumping when he sees that Alex is looking at him. “I even went to meet you at the bus stop.”
“So that was you?” Alex proclaims, jumping down from the tailgate.
Michael looks embarrassed, cheeks flushed red, and it reminds him so much of the Michael that he fell in love with that he loses his breath for a moment.
“You noticed huh?” Michael says, making a face.
“I swore that I saw you through the bus window, but when I actually looked there was no one there, so I thought I just imagined it.”
“Well, when I saw your boyfriend there, I made myself scarce,” Michael says, a bitter tone to his voice, but he looks apologetic, so at least he’s self aware enough to know that he has nothing to actually be bitter about.
“Not my boyfriend,” Alex says automatically, and Michael just stares at him a bit incredulously.
Alex rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Like you’ve never had a booty call, Guerin.”
Michael raises both eyebrows at that, and gives Alex a mock shocked look, “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
But he ruins the effect by smirking, and Alex can’t help it, he bursts out into laughter, the tension of the last couple of minutes draining out of him.
He’d thought maybe things between them would just be weird and stilted and painful, but so far it hasn’t felt anything like that. It felt easy.
Alex stops laughing and just grins at Michael, who is just staring at him with a look that Alex is very familiar with.
Alex’s smile dims a little as he continues to stare at Michael who breathes in deeply like he’s steeling himself for something.
“So, not your boyfriend, huh?” he says, taking a step forward.
Alex inhales sharply at the words, and licks his lips, shaking his head.
“So, if I kissed you right now, what would you do?”
Alex exhales a small disbelieving breath, his pulse racing and fingers tingling. Michael has never asked to kiss him before. He’s always just done it like he’s afraid that Alex will tell him no if he dares to ask.
Michael looks away, probably thinking that Alex meant that as a no, so Alex takes a step forward, and Michael freezes, eyes snapping back towards Alex.
“Why don’t you do it, and find out?”
Michael moves forward like he thinks that Alex is going to change his mind at any second, fingers pressed to Alex’s face as he tilts his head to the side and presses his mouth to Alex’s.
The move makes them stagger backwards a little, but Alex hardly notices as he pushes his fingers into Michael’s hair and holds on tight, keeping him close as he kisses him back.
The storm breaks at the same time, and the rain falls hard and cold, pelting them and soaking them almost immediately, but neither Alex or Michael care as they continue to kiss.
Michael digs his fingers harder into Alex’s jaw and kisses him harder, parting his lips and licking at Alex’s mouth. Alex wraps his arms around Michael’s shoulder, pulling himself in closer and opening his mouth to Michael’s.
Michael kisses him deep and just a little bit desperate, and Alex loses himself in it, thinking, this, this, this.
This is what he’s been missing. This is what’s always missing. Michael kisses him like Alex was created specifically for Michael to kiss. And Alex can’t help but surrender to the touch.
After what feels like forever and not long enough, Michael pulls away, panting heavily.
Alex blinks rapidly a few times, before he realizes that his vision is blurry because of the rain that is pouring down on top of them.
He looks up at the sky as lightning lights up the clouds and thunder rumbles, and he closes his eyes breathing in deep. Michael drops his forehead to Alex’s cheek, pressing his face along the side of Alex’s face and just breathing.
Alex just tightens his hold on Michael and breathes with him.
68 notes · View notes
gingerxarmy · 3 years ago
Text
Falling In Love  MV&LN
a/n - this is an midnight thing of me trying to cope with stuff. hope you enjoy! hah
Reader x Max Verstappen & Lando Norris 
Inspired by; Hopeless romantics - James TW
Words: 1800+ 
You having falling out of love with one, but, falling in love with an other. 
Some People say the art of love is one of the most beautiful things in the world. The process of pinning after one person, to grow with them and if you're lucky, have them with you until your days are count. But all beautiful things have a dark behind. The moon, which is one of the most beautiful and calm things we have on this planet, has a dark side. No-one can know what's on it for sure. 
Love has actions and words. Your significant other can give you flowers, but they can also give you bruises. You can have sweet nonsense whispering in your ear when you are watching a movie, or they can tell you lies you so desperately want to hear. 
But the most painful thing about love is when one of the two people is falling out of it. What are you supposed to do when the exciting feelings are fading away, when you no longer can have them staying with you. When whatever you do or say are no longer enough. The heartache is one thing everyone experiences in the name of love. Even if you are living a loving life, the death you vow will make sure you are apart. 
But when you are the one who can’t stand to be with him anymore. All you wanted to do was wish for a moment to make sure you could get into an argument and get him to hate you, just so this wouldn’t hurt as much as it did. He had been perfect. Everything he had done was for your preference, so you could be happy. But in the end, your feelings faded. It hurt, it really did, but when one goes - another comes along. It’s always a shift. The worst part was that they were friends, best friends even. 
You’ll never forget about the time you meet him and how inlove you were from the first eye contact. You had met Max one evening in Monaco when you were on a vacation with three of your girl friends. You had been walking on the streets of Monte Carlo in search of a Café. After almost thirty minutes walking in circles you decided on Scala Green Café, neither of you had heard about it before, but it was calm and in need of something to drink thanks to the heat outside you took a table and ordered a drink each. 
You had lovely conversations about the city you are vacationing in and as usual, for four single ladies, it turned quickly to the cute guys you’ve seen on your walk earlier. You had all agreed on one particular man you had seen not too far from the café who had taken home the price of the most handsome one. With his broad muscle building and determined steps it had made it quite hard to not look at him. His face and hair was hidden under the cap he had been wearing, which was a shame, you all agreed on. 
You had a nice conversation on planning the remainder of your trip when the doorbell for the Café called. Three muscular men in t-shirts and shorts made their way to the cashier. Probably asking for a table. Your conversation died down when the waiter led them to a table in your direction. Looking after them when they passed, not really caring if they were aware that you and your friends were staring or not, and trying not to droll. 
“What is it with handsome men in this city?” One of your friends asked. Your group started to giggle but you soon interrupted when the doorbell called once more and the man with the cap stepped in through the door, looking around before seeing the three men who just walked next to you. The difference with this man was that he could feel you staring and your eyes meet for a short moment. But long enough for you to start to blush, hiding from his gaze you took a sip from your drink. 
“You made eye contact with him. Didn’t you?” Your friend to the right of you said and gave your shoulder a squeeze. You nod your head and turn around trying to find the guy who just walked past. But to your luck/misfortune he was already looking at you, and for a second time in less than ten minutes you had made eye contact and he had made you blush. 
That café wisit had ended with a tissue with a phone number and a name, Max. You could never have thought that two moments of eye contact and a tissue could give you two amazing years of love. Max Verstappen had taught you about Formula One and everything about the sport that you now loved with a passion. When race weekends didn’t clash with your job you would be with him for support and for yourself and the adrenaline rush from watching the race from the teambuilding. 
 Your relationship was amazing, you had your fights like every couple had. But when the new rookie trio came along in 2019 and you found yourself hanging with when Max went out with the youngest one of them three. Lando Norris had become a big part of your life when he and Max started to play games and stream together in their spare time. And when you got invited to chat with the two when they were playing games, things started to escalate. 
It wasn’t something big, Max knew you two were close friends, but when normal conversations started to become more flirty and when you started to find yourself  thinking about Lando more often and not only in a platonic friendship way you started to think about your relationship with Max. 
And here you are, trapped between two wonderful men with a mind drawn between them two. Would you just block Lando and try to find your happiness with Max and try to fall in love again? Or would you talk to Lando about what you feel for him and tell Max how you’re no longer in love with him. Whatever you come up with you couldn’t get rid of the feeling of disappointing one or not both of them. 
That evening Max felt something was up with you. You, who always talked about your day, were now sitting quiet and not eating your food. Of Course he would get worried, you knew it. 
“What’s wrong, love,” he asked. Love, it hurt. 
“I think we need to talk.” You pushed away the food. “You know I love you, right?”
“Yes, of course. I’ll always love you. What’s this about?” He reached forward for your hand but you couldn’t bring yourself to let him take it. Instead you put your hands in your lap and let your gaze rest on them. Fiddling with your fingers. 
“I will always love you Max. But I don’t think I’m in love with you anymore. I’m so sorry, you haven’t been anything but lovely and kind to me. But I think our time is up.” A single tear escaped your eye when you lifted your gaze and met Max’s eyes. 
“I had already guessed it, even though I didn’t want to believe it. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other. And he would be really lucky to have you.” This time you let him take your hand. Releaf wash over you and you give him a broken smile. “And I’ve been texting this girl, and before you think anything, no. It was always friendly but now when I know for sure that you like Lando I may give her and I a try.” 
“I think you should,” you give Max’s hand a squeeze before letting his hand go, giving yourself one more moment before letting him go. 
“You and Lando need to invite me to your wedding later on, alright?” You two start to laugh at this. The eaze going conversation coming back between the two of you. 
A couple of weeks later you followed Max to Monaco GP, where everything started between the two of you, your journey could have an ending there years later. He had invited the girl he had been talking to as well, or, you had invited the girl he had been talking to because you were dying to know how had his heart now when you no longer had it. She was kind and you two shared a couple of laughs during the grand prix weekend. Max was in safe hands. 
“Okay, so, Lando’s waiting!” Max said later that evening. Max, Carlos and Lando had shared the podium today and you couldn’t be more proud of the three of them. 
“Isn’t it meant for you to be out celebrating your first podium and win in Monaco?” You say before giving him a hug. Even though you no longer are a couple you are great friends. The platonic love is still there. 
“Yes, and you are coming with. And so is Kelly. Come on!” Max dragged you off to a car where the others were waiting. And Max, being the matchmaker he is, made you sit next to Lando on the short way to the Bar someone of the drivers had shoosed. Probably Daniel if you could say it yourself. 
“You and Max broke up?” Lando dared to ask later when the group of people had gotten a couple of shots. 
“Yeah, our time together ran out. It was mutual so no hard feelings or anything. And I’m really happy about it. I really thought we were going to end on bad terms. And now I’m rambling!” You put a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from talking. But all Lando could do was laugh. Oh, God, that laugh. 
“So if you two are no longer a couple I can do this without having to risk my head.” Lando leans in and you two share a kiss. Your hand finds its way over to his curls and his hands make it way down your back, making you move closer to him. 
“If I was you I would still be careful of your head,” you say as you make eye contact with Max. 
“If you're breaking her heart, Mate. I’m breaking you!” Max screams over the loud music in the club and makes the others look in your direction. “Oh, and don’t forget about that wedding invitation you promised me!” 
You couldn’t help but laugh, happy that you got the man your heart wanted and still have your best friend by your side. You lean in and steal a kiss from Lando once more before leaning into him, laying your head on his shoulder and start to speak with the people you are out celebrating for the night. 
52 notes · View notes
equestrianwritingsstuff · 3 years ago
Text
Tumblr media
In recognition of 200 followers.....
I composed a list of 200 hero x villain dialogue prompts for you guys to ask me or reblog it and ask your own followers or if you take inspiration.
Thank you so much! It means a whole lot!
1. "I wish I had longer to love you."
2. "Sometimes being the greatest is being the worse."
3. "I will kill you if you die on me."
4. "Bury me... under a willow tree... with tulips and lilies to blossom in the spring and a small stream to keep me company."
5. "Villains aren't capable of love; yet, here I am crying over your grave."
6. "The kitten's name is Max."
7. "I'm going to get a beer."
8. "There is only one way to kill me, but you could never muster the strength to pull through."
9. "I'm dizzy with love for you."
10. "Hero, you are drunk not a toddler."
11. "I pledge to serve you willingly, butthead."
12. "Ride the waves with me." "You are a mermaid, no thanks."
13. "Stay awake for me; it's only a little farther."
14. "I can't carry you!"
15. "He isn't much, but we'll make do."
16. "I WANT TO SEE HER! LET ME SEE HER PLEASE. Please..."
17. "George Washington never told a fib, and I am greater than him, so trust me, Hero, when I say I am telling the truth."
18. "Eggs and butter make dough, knives and guns make death."
19. "You are insane."
20. "The bomb is going off in twenty seconds, Hero. Run now. I-I'm going to stop it."
21. "What is love?"
22. "I don't get the function of hugs."
23. "Mentally I'm good, but physically..."
24. "I only wished for happiness from that genie. I guess it was evil."
25. "Break him, shatter him, destroy him."
26. "Sing with me."
27. "Villain you are touch starved, not dying."
28. "What the heck did you do to your hair." "What? You don't like it?" "It looks like my cat's litterbox."
29. "Don't give me hope."
30. "I am not a disease or a parasite. I am a human. I am one of those millions you swore to protect."
31. "Kiss, marry, kill?" "Kill, kill, kill."
32. "You created me."
33. "Villain don't you dare pass out."
34. "I like the look of blood on you, compliments your eyes."
35. "I kinda dropped Hero through space."
36. "Power exhaustion sucks."
37. "Time to save the world. Yay!" *says in sarcasm*
38. "Let me feed you Hero."
39. "You do not have AC?!"
40. "Villain you have a fever."
41. "Am I drunk?"
42. "Movies. Nine o'clock. Don't be late."
43. "Lemme grab a beer and we are good to go."
44. "Don't. Look. At. Me."
45. "He just had his wisdom teeth out sooo." "How bad can it be? Villain has been shot with twenty tranq darts at one and didn't pass out... immediately anyway, took a good twenty minutes." "Well, you see-" "THE KITTEN IS TRYING TO KILL ME!!!!!"
46. "She needs surgery."
47. "It's a panic attack..." "KISS HIM!"
48. "Blood, gore, madness... this was made for me."
49. "Quit drooling on me and sit up."
50. "There's only one bed."
51. "He looks so cute when he sleeps."
52. "Of all the places to live, you had to choose a heavily fortified medieval castle two thousand years in the past?"
53. "You are a peacock Hero."
54. "Let's see who will drown first. You or me. One, two, three... let's go!"
55. "I wasn't always like this."
56. "Madness is for geniuses, not for me."
57. "It's just a sedative that's going to make you nice and docile."
58. "He's out." "Good, let him rest, villainy is hardwork."
59. "I love her, but she doesn't love me."
60. "If I had a choice to save you or me, I'd pick me."
61. "Gag her."
62. "They aren't made for this, give them mercy."
63. "Talk now or she dies."
64. "Broken ribs, broken jaw, broken arm... are you sure you want me to continue." "No." "Then tell me your name."
65. "Get me some thread and a needle. Just don't touch me."
66. "The police are coming."
67. "Tell me where she is. TELL ME WHERE IS SHE OR I WILL SLASH YOUR THROAT AND TOSS YOU IN THE SEWER!!!!!"
68. "I love you." "I don't."
69. "Hug me just one last time."
70. "Villain hey hey hey. Calm down. You've been in a pretty bad accident."
71. "They won't be able to walk again."
72. "Tell me... just tell if they made it."
73. "Can't you just poof me another arm?"
74. "If you saved all of them, you can save me."
75. "I'm really tired..."
76. "Sleep. I will stay with you."
77. "She is sixteen years old." "All musicians start young." "This isn't a concert, this is life. Stop ruining it."
78. "He"s been in an accident." "Where?" "Five minutes away from your place."
79. "I wish he wasn't unconscious, so I could talk to him. So I could thank him."
80. "It's been four months now. I have came everyday and, uh, I dunno what to say. Hero, I need you to wake up. I can't function knowing you are right here."
81. "I have a date." "Hmm with who?" "Supervillain." "When and where honey?"
82. "Shhhhhhh. Be quiet. We are still being hunted."
83. "Desert?" "What are you trying to do? Kill me?"
84. "I hate you. I hate you. I hate you. I hate you." "I know, I know dear and I so sorry, but I need you to help me. I need you to help them."
85. "Villain just sleep. Allow the drugs to take you under. Don't fight it, don't resist... just sleep. In the morning, we will be safe."
86. "Being lost in the woods isn't ideal."
87. "An injection of valium will do it."
88. "There's no anesthesia."
89. "Wouldn't it be great if we never met each other?"
90. "Bless you." "I didn't sneeze." "Yeah right. Now go sit down, you're sick."
91. "It's called insomnia you dim-wit."
92. "Join me and we can be great."
93. "You didn't bring me here for the cake." "No, dear, but you are so gullible. I brought you here for a sacrifice." "My life?" "Why yes."
94. "I don't know. I never had someone collapse on my doorstep before."
95. "I have nothing to lose. No family, no friends, just my meaningless life."
96. "That's my daughter, not the villain's... so give me her back before I rip your eyes out."
97. "How long was I out for?!" "Ten minutes, but you were drifting. I don't think you had that good of rest." "Oh, I thought I was asleep for hours."
98. "I know, I know you are going to hate me after this, but trust me when I say it's for the best."
99. "I know everything about you."
100. "I think narcissism is contagious because after watching you for a couple hours, I think I may have developed a little crush on the mirror..."
101. "What did you give me?"
102. "Is she screams, I'm going to scream, and then we are going to die."
103. "No fighting today, my cat just died."
104. "How hard did you punch me?"
105. "Not gonna lie, being delirious was epic."
106. "I am cooking for you. You aren't my servant, so stop thinking it."
107. "My old masters made me into a weapon and called me Villain, but if you desire a lapdog I am going to need to be refurnished to fit your needs."
108. "What is his deal?" "I think he's just crazy."
109. "Love is not what I had in mind when I agreed to go on a date with you."
110. "Hugs are overrated."
111. "Are you too hot or too cold?" "Both."
112. "I wish we could turn back time."
113. "I lost the game." "What do you mean? Hero is dead." "Precisely."
114. "Make a wish." "That you live."
115. "Villain has been acting exceptional! Today we granted them a break from the machine. Go ahead Hero and take him for some ice cream."
116. (Sleepy murmurs) "Don't go. I neeeed you." "Yeah yeah I know Villain."
117. "Villain was the one who hurt me, not Hero."
118. "Supervillain is in danger!"
119. "If everyone is scared of me, I might as well be alone."
120. "My head is killing me."
121. "Don't call an ambulance. Just... hold me."
122. "You don't have to do this. It's going to hurt you more than me." "Anything for you dearest, anything at all."
123. "Hero, go wash your hands before dinner."
124. "You have PTSD?" "I don't know?"
125. "I have soap in my eyes!' "Rinse it out." "Mm no I'm permanently mortally blinded." "Uh huh."
126. "We need to cuddle to keep warm."
127. "Take care of them for me, will you?"
128. "When I'm gone, promise to tell my mother, please."
129. "Drug him and then bring him to me."
130. "Superheroes are for children. In all honesty, we are all villains."
131. "Oh my gosh, Hero, what happened?" "Poisoned."
132. "Wouldn't it be nice?" "I don't fancy prosthetics."
133. "Just shut up and listen!"
134. "There is a memorial parade for Hero tomorrow. They asked you to lead it."
135. "She turned it around... at the end."
136. "I wish that he understood how much I care for him."
137. "Civilian! He fell asleep in my lap last night, like totally zooted. It was so cute, but also very tempting. I stuck a french fry up his nose." "Wow. Did he wake up then?" "Yeah, I am sorta kidnapped right now..."
138. "The book, the sword... all pieces of the puzzle huh." "No, darling, all pieces of my game."
139. "Their death is my fault! Not your's, but mine, so quit trying to make me feel better."
140. "Once upon a time-" "Oh please, not another fairytale."
141. "If only it was that easy."
142. "We are stuck in a maze, how can you be so joyful?"
143. "Celebrate Hero, eat your cake, party into the night... but just know, I will be back."
144. "Call 911!" "Why?" "I stubbed my toe."
145. "Your jawline looks like it was gauzed over in lard." "It looks better than your hay for hair."
146. "You're my best friend." "Villain? Are you on drugs?"
147. "Lay him there and leave him. Let the rats dine on him."
148. "The point of the cow suit?" "Oh, uh, I was at a Halloween parade. You know, for children."
149. "I-i never wanted to hurt you." "I know, I wanted you to, so I allowed it."
150. "Favorite movie?" "Your death." "Ooo never heard of it, let's watch it." "*groans* Oh my gosh, you are stupid."
151. "Being a flutist is my only superpower. And being modest apparently."
152. "Your head will join my collection if yoi don't watch out."
153. "Hey, hey! Wake up, buddy. It's just a nightmare."
154. "Meh head hurts." "Yeah, you hit it pretty hard."
155. "Let's go for a ride." "On that yellow miniature school bus?" "It's a ranger you idiot."
156. "No painkillers, no bandages, perfect environment for infection to settle... I'm just gonna leave you here Villain."
157. "I save you and this is how you repay me? A prison?"
158. "What are you doing?" "Climbing a tree? No Hero, I am breaking into your house to kidnap you."
159. "I formally apologize."
160. "Of all places, Hero, you had to teleport us to a desert. A DESERT."
161. "Supervillain won't stop unless we team up." "I don't think our alliance will stop them, I think it'll just make them angrier."
162. "Stop singing or I will blow this place until even the last atom is broken into itty-bitty molecules!" "That... that is scientifically impossible."
163. "I'm a genius! Yippee!"
164. "Life isn't perfect and nor is your morals."
165. "Control yourself before you kill everyone around you."
166. "Say your goodbyes."
167. "Of all the ways I've died, drowning was by far the nicest."
168. "Love the collar. Is it for fashion purposes?" "Uh, um, uh, er, no?"
169. "You look lonely. Want some hot coco?"
170. "It is negative million out there and you expect me to come in toasty warm after fixing your power?"
171. "Are you sick?" "Yeh." "Come on in then."
172. "Civilian, don't even bother trying to save him."
173. "We have a breach!"
174. "What makes a villain's life less important than your's?"
175. "Enjoy your soup." "You poisoned it." "And you're delusional, eat up."
176. "I hate 99% of the population." "According to a meme I found, you are therefore a cat."
177. "Don't overuse your powers."
178. "This is just an unfortunate event."
179. "You look so cute when you are sleepy and barely conscious."
180. "His fever is rising."
181. "Save her, leave me. I'll-i'll get out of this somehow."
182. "Sometimes self-sacrifice isn't noble, it's selfish."
183. "You are so funny that I need my inhaler to kill you with." "That sentence was so discombobulated that I am leaving."
184. "Just for your information, I hate oranges but love grapes."
185. "Walking down the stairs shouldn't be a momental effort." "You broke both your legs."
186. "You just destroyed my life's work, don't expect me to give you a huge bear hug."
187. "Is it true that you have telekinesis?" "Yes, why?" "Go steal me a donut."
188. "You are so incredibly touch starved, Villain." "Mmm." "Tired? Go ahead and sleep, I'm here."
189. "This is for your own good, I promise."
190. "I'm cold."
191. "I don't want to move and you can't make me."
192. "I AM RETIRED! YOU DON'T NEED TO CONTINUE TO SEND ME PAMPHLETS OF THE HOTTEST HERO OF THE YEAR!"
193. "He's unconscious." "That tired, huh." "No, he passed out from blood loss."
194. "I want a kitten."
195. "I'm no scared of you, so stop acting like I am."
196. "He isn't dangerous, just scared."
197. "They won't be going anywhere for a long, long time."
198. "Hero? Hero? Oh my goodness, please wake up."
199. "Life is too short for pleasures."
200. "I hope you are happy, in the end."
35 notes · View notes
yamithediaperdork · 3 years ago
Text
My Little Brothers revenge Part 1
My little brothers revenge
The Hickman's were for the most part a average middle class family. both the parents worked and they had two children.
A 12 year old named Justin who had natural blond hair in a brush cut though he currently had it dyed indigo blue to go with his icy blue eyes. He had a jock's build (well as much as one could have at that age) and wasn't scared to use his physical power to his advantage.
his little brother Alex was short for his age and was always being mistaken for a 6 year old or worse when he was 9 and a half. He had red hair that went down to his shoulders and he kept in a pony tail and his checks were sprinkled with freckles.His slim body meant he was last to be picked for any sports though unlike his brother he was a strait A student and actually sometimes had to help his older brother with his homework, a fact that neither of them enjoyed.
It was their mother Anne (who Alex took after in appearance) who insisted that he help his big brother and it always ended with Justin pissed off and Alex hanging from a bed post by his sponge bob underoo's.
Their father who Justin took after in appearance refused to believe his little all star could be such a bully and so it was usually left to Alex to figure out a way to hold his own or go and whine to their mother, getting him labeled a mama's boy.
Still all brothers fight, it was just a fact of life and it might of all just gone this way with them being a semi happy family till the day the bully of a big brother took things a step too far and Alex decided that Justin had to be put in his place once and for all.
Alex had been hanging out with his friends Saturday afternoon, playing video games in the living room and having semi pissed off Justin who had wanted to watch a movie with HIS friends.
But mom and dad made sure that the TV time was shared and that both boys got a block of time and with their parents just down the block, Justin knew better then to try and strong arm them out.
Said friends were Kyle and Lyle, twins from down the block who had a semi creepy habit of finishing each others sentences and had light caramel skin and black hair in matching mushroom cuts. it was easy enough to tell them apart as by a semi quick of fate Lyle had brown eyes while Kyle had green.
Missing in action because he'd gone fishing with his dad was Max, anther shrimp who had dirty blond hair in a short Mohawk (his attempt to look cool which had backfired) and was so white he looked pale most of the time.
being shrimps themselves they had hit it off well with Alex and had formed a semi losers club of sorts, though Alex wasn't found of the name the twins who loved anything Steven king had insisted and he was out voted 2 to 1 since Max had joined the group after.
the boys were doing a retro gaming session of sorts, playing downloaded old games on a new machine and the game of choice for the moment was Ninja turtles two.
"Man, this game is so bad.." Lyle spoke up, playing as Leonardo.
"That it's almost good!" Kyle finished and was playing as Ralph.
"heh, that the fun part of these old games..you know they were giving it their all but just were limited." Alex said.
all three of them were seated on the hard wood floor of the living room though they had spread out a blanket since despite the chill of the October air his parents had refused to turn on the heat yet.
the twins nodded and Alex went to say something else when he hear the booming footsteps of his brother then a familiar stink hit his nose.
'No way, he wouldn't!' Alex thought.
"Hey Little Alexandra, Didn't mom tell you to toss out your pissy wet diapie when you got changed this morning? It's bad enough your a bed wetter, do you have to leave your soggy huggies around?" Justin asked.
and indeed Justin was holding out a totally soaked Spider-man print diaper in front of him, holding it with just a finger and his thumb and holding his nose.
Behind him were his friend Adam (Nicknamed grizz or grizzly because of his girth and wildly unkempt brown hair) and Rayne, actually a year younger then the other two but a head taller and so very, very much stupider. Rayne kept his head shaved because he thought it made him look more like the pro wrestlers that he so so loved.
"is that-" Lyle asked, pausing the game and turning to look.
"-A diaper?" Kyle finished, raising a eyebrow.
"JUSTIN! Mom told you not show people those! and I DID toss it out!" Alex huffed and whined, his cheeks going crimson then adding. "And DON'T call me Alexandra!"
"Whatever you say pamper pisser. Look, I went to go into our room to get something and was assaulted by the stink of your bed wetter pants." Justin said and then tossed the soggy thing at Alex, hitting him in the face and knocking him over.
the truth was Alex KNEW he'd tossed the diaper out this morning, he wasn't allowed to toss his very much needed bed time diapers out in the house trash because Dad and Justin would raise a fuss about it stinking up the house and he'd had to wait five minutes because the paper boy had stopped to talk to Mr. Johnson next door.
"JUSTIN GROSS!" Alex whined and sat up, whining and now smelling like stale pee.
"Whatever dork, go and toss your diaper out then take a shower..me and the guys are gonna start our movie early. Wonder twins, I'm sure you don't wanna stick around and hang out with a pamper packer like my little brother right?" Justin said.
"Hey! Leave him alone!" Lyle huffed and went to put a supportive hand on Alex's shoulder, but then pulled it back.
he was with his friend but that didn't mean he wanted to get any of the ick on him.
"What he said! Everyone matures differently! Heck, Lyle only just stopped needing a night light this year!" Kyle said, then pout his hands over his mouth as his brother glared at him.
"...Pfffftt BWHAHAHAHAHA!" all three big bullies broke into gut busting laughter.
"I'm not the one who has to suck on a pacifier during thunder storms!" Lyle shot back and blew a raspberry at his twin who huffed and glared.
the bullies naturally were loving it as the twins only dug themselves in deeper and Alex just face palmed.
"Guys, you're NOT helping yourselves." He pointed out.
"Oh my god, it's a group of BABIES! No wonder they all get along!" Grizz laughed, slapping his leg.
"I bet their next sleep over is gonna have them in a crib." Rayne added.
"Alright pamper packers, out of the living room, this movie is PG 13 and I don't want you all blorting your pants when something scary happens. Wonder twins, get your asses home. Alexandra, go take a shower AFTER you toss out your pissy diaper." Justin said, unable to believe just how well all of this had worked out.
"Whatever jerk.." Alex huffed and got up.
he saw his friends off though the twins were still semi huffing and fighting, shoving each other as the walked away and Alex got his wet diaper tossed out without anyone seeing him.
as he went upstairs and got his shower ready one thing was on his mind.
'This means war. I'm gonna make him feel EXACTLY how embarrassing being seen in diapers around your fiends is.' Alex vowed to himself.
Ok, he had no idea HOW he was going to do so, but while Justin may of won the first battle, it was going to be Alex who won the war and prove his Brain's out did his brother brawn.
The movie was going about as well as could be expected since they had to keep pausing it to have anther laugh at just how dorky Alex and his friends were.
Of course Rayne and Grizz had known for awhile (even if Justin technically wasn't suppose to of told them) about Alex being a diaper filler. (and he might of exaggerated what all Alex used his diapers for)
Maybe a SMALL part of Justin had felt sorry for Alex being humiliated like that in front of his friends, but Grizz had actually come up with the idea and he didn't wanna look like a pussy in front of the guys.
Besides with it coming out that the twins were just as big of dorks as his little brother any real guilt had vanished and he toyed with the idea of dragging out Alex's old play pen out of the basement for the next time he had all his dorky friends over.
'heh, get some pacifiers to shut'em up..put them all in Alex's diapers and take lots of pictures. boom, homework and chore bitches till I graduate.' Justin thought with a smirk and chuckled.
"what's so funny? Oooo and I know that look. Someone's had a evil thought." Grizz asked.
"Heh.. How would you guys feel about making some diapered nerds do our homework for us?" Justin asked.
"well, could be funny, but where are we gonna find some?" Rayne asked.
"..." Grizz roiled his eyes
"...Rayne buddy just smile and listen." Justin said semi sweat dropping.
"I can do that!" Rayne said with a big toothy grin.
Shaking his head Justin started to explain his evil plan, and his friends laughed and chuckled, and were MORE then on board.
Getting out of the shower and drying off, Alex got dressed in a pair of black jogging pants and a t-shirt then sat on his bed with his laptop.
He tried different google searches trying to figure out just how to get his brother back in diapers but for the most part it ended up giving him story link's that he bookmarked to look over later and see if there was anything usable.
He did find a forum called little brothers revenge and it had some really wicked ideas for the most part, but only two threads popped up when he searched for diaper.
the first one was clearly bull with it talking about how this kid had pooped in a diaper and hide it in his big brothers room and gotten the big brother in trouble (and even if it wasn't, Alex would hold off crapping himself as a weapon of last resort.)
the other thread was old, and had been posted just before Christmas of last year and had a little brother talk about how he had set his brother up to look like he wanted diapers for Christmas and his dad had fallen for it, and so had the rest of the family.
Of course there was a lot of disbelief in the read over that and one guy commented 'pics or your full of shit!'
As Alex scrolled down, he pretty much thought the same but then his jaw dropped as there was a picture of a sleeping boy, in a t-shirt and thick diapers and sucking on a paci and a younger boy was in frame too, it was a semi selfie and was smirking and giving the peace sign. the caption under the picture read 'Believe me now bitches?'
"Hoooly shitttttt." Alex said, this guy was his hero!
he didn't seem to be activate on the forum anymore though, there were a bout a dozen replies and a few more comments from the guy but then he vanished.
his user profile did have a e-mail attached to it and so Alex snagged it and went to write the guy a e-mail.
Subject: DUDE YOUR MY HERO!
Hey just wanted to say, I saw your post on Little brothers revenge and wanted to say how awesome that was and also I was wondering if you had any advice or tips on getting a big brother in padding. mine's being a total butt hole lately and just ugggghhh @_@
I had one idea about maybe like peeing on his bed after he gets up to frame him for bed wetting, what do you think? hope to hear from you soon!
E-mail written Alex clicked send and then went to kill some time play a few games online, never once suspecting that while he was trying to plot his big brother diaper doom, he was likewise plotting out Alex's downstairs.
It was a hour latter when Alex heard the ding that told him he'd gotten a reply and he switched tabs to go and take a look.
Subject: Re:DUDE YOUR MY HERO
Heh, thanks for the high praise though I gotta warn you, first of all this is something you've gotta be reallllly careful with. Diaper humiliation is a double edged sword, trust me. Had a friend named Ken who tried this and now he's in diapers.
Anyways just taking a leak on your big bro's bed is dumb, you'll get busted for sure! what I'd recommend is making use of laxatives and pee pills in increasing doses till he's wetting his pants all the time and blorting them too. It's a longer game but better results.
what made you wanna get his butt back in diapers anyways, and FYI i expect 'baby pictures' when your plan works.
Alex thought about that for a second and couldn't help but wonder if maybe this 'ken' was really Ben, but pushed that thought out of his head as he started to write his reply.
Subject: Re:Re:DUDE YOUR MY HERO!
Oh well, I'm a bed wetter and the butt hole went and fished one of my soggy diapers out of the trash and threw it at me while I was hanging out with my friends, trying to say i never tossed it out. so trust me, he totes has this coming.
I really got nothing to lose if I get busted since I'm in huggies every night so I'll try out your plan. it works out because he likes to make me get him drinks and snacks.
as for the picture of him once he's back in huggies heh, sure. thanks for the advice and I'll let you know when the plan starts to work.
E-mail sent Alex closed his e-mail and his game tab then went searching online for the best med's to get to reduce his brother to a helpless pants wetting stinker, only to pause after a few minutes recalling that Max had gotten in trouble awhile back for causing a series of messy accidents around school.
'nggggh..no way he'll be back yet though. I'll go and talk to him tomorrow.' Alex thought and set his laptop aside and laid back on his bed, thinking about just how much fun he was gonna have and ended up conking out.
which was unfortunate as he hadn't put on one of his spider-man diapers and with in ten minutes a wet patch was starting to grow on the front of his jogging pants, which while the dark color would hide it, the tan covered blanket he was laying on wouldn't.
"So when do you think we can do this?" Grizz asked.
the movie was basically forgotten but had been kept on to cover up their voices on the off chance Alex came downstairs (Small chance of that) or if their parents came back early.
"Welll that's the tricky part. I have to have all four of the dweebs here AND have my parents gone. they're going on a weekend trip in about 2 weeks though so I'll try and convince the dweeb to get the loser's club all over here." Justin said.
Rayne, who had just shut his mouth like he'd been told to raised his hand like he was in class.
"heh, Yes Rayne?" Justin asked.
"Aren't they into that dice game, Dragons and prison or whatever?" he asked.
"..Dungeons and dragons, yeah." Justin chuckled.
"Same difference. anyways, say you've been reading up on it and wanna try your hand at hosting a game, but just want them over before you embarrasses yourself in front of us.Most nerds I know love to play and will jump at the chance." Rayne said and smiled.
"Sweet fucking cthulhu. Rayne had a good idea." Grizz chuckled and to patted the bigger boys head. "good boy!"
Rayne beamed and was clearly proud of himself and Justin chuckled.
"Ok, I'll just have to learn enough about this nerd stuff to fake it and get them over. you guys will have to be ready to help though, I don't wanna risk one of the losers getting away." Justin said nodding.
"Hey, as long as I don't have to change any shitty asses I'm in." Grizz said.
"Wait, your gonna make them USE the diapers?" Rayne said and then laughed lots. "Gross!"
"Heh, well the best blackmail is a sobbing little brat in a stinky diaper blackmail. no way the dweeb will risk him in all his smelly glory ending up ALL over town."
"Man, I am glad your not MY big brother." Rayne said, never mind the fact Justin was pretty sure if he tried anything on the semi giant he'd be the one in huggies.
"Eh, No worries. you'd be a awesome little bro. Now all we need to do is go and pick the perfect pampers for them."
"Oh, I got it! There's this discount store my mom drags me to because they have her cream of wheat and other junk she likes cheap, but they got in a shipment of over night diapers for big kids, boys and girls. the boys has rockets and stars on them and are blue." Grizz said, setting up the best part.
"Oh, this is gonna be good." Justin smirked.
"the girls has unicorns and rainbows and are pink!" Grizz finished and cackled.
Plans set for his brother's diapered humiliation, the boys finally turned they're attention back to the movie.
After the movie it was getting late and so Justin sent the guys home as technically speaking they weren't suppose to be over, only him or Alex could have friends over for the most part if mom and dad weren't home. (Weekend vacations were the exception, though their folks made it clear the house had been be clean when they got back)
Whoever had their friends over was also suppose to clean up after them and after a chip fight in the living room Justin smirked, knowing he could get Alex to clean the mess up, since it would be Alex and his friend getting blamed for the mess.
Of course Justin usually made Alex clean up after him and his friends anyways but that always took a little bit more effort in the form of using the dorks undies to bounce him like a yo yo if he didn't listen.
He toyed with leaving Alex sulking in their room where he been since the shower and just letting the dweeb get in trouble but since it was Justin's turn to start dinner so it'd be ready and he didn't feel like cooking, he had to get Alex downstairs anyways to be a good little chore bitch.
"This will be SO much easier once I have the blackmail on him." Justin sighed to himself as he made his way up the stairs to the boys shared bedroom.
Opening the door he went to go and say something but was hit by the stench of piss and a quick look confirmed the little bed soaker had gone night night without a pamper on.
"Hey dork face! wake up! you pissed the bed!" Justin said in a loud voice.
"Ngggh a gigi boo..Five more minutes mommy.." the still mostly asleep dweeb said, trying to shoo Justin away.
"heh, baby talk? really? Wow, just when I think you can't lower the bar any more Little bro.. ALEXANDRA! WAKE UP!" Justin said then cupped a hand to his mouth and yelled.
Alex jumped sort in bed then sat up, eyes wide and panting, looking around.
"WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!?" He growled once he locked eyes on Justin."ARE YOU TRYING TO GIVE ME A HEART ATTACK?!"
"No, but you had a wetting attack dork." Justin said and pointed.
Alex went to say something then looked down and went from pissed off to blushing and tried to cover himself up.
"Ah crap crap crap crap!" Alex whined and got up off the bed.
this was NOT good. not good at ALL! Dad was already riding him on the bed wetting and if he found out Alex had soaked the bed from a little nap he would NOT hear the end of it, or worse, dad would make him wear ALL day tomorrow!
"Ah..ah..Justin big brother who I love ever so much.." Alex started, swallowing and trying to put on his best 'I'm so cute help me' faces.
"Save it dweeb. I'll keep my mouth shut about your little..well BIG accident as long as you go and be a good little chore bitch and get the living room cleaned up and start supper." Justin said and leaned on the door frame, a evil smirk on his face.
Considering his options Alex just hung is head and then did a small nod.
"Butttt to show you I'm not totally heartless..I got some clothes that need to be washed so you can do them and wash your sheet at the same time as a cover up. I know, my kindness knows no bounds. just be thankful mom got you that rubber sheet or you'd be going to sleep in a soggy bed tonight." Justin said and laughed.
'gee he's all heart. letting me do his landry and clean up AND cook.. ' Alex thought but it WAS better then trying to explain the sheet alone.
"Yeah ok.." He said finally and went to strip stripping the bed.
"ah ah ah, what do you say to your kind and wonderful brother for helping you out?" Justin said, milking this for all it was worth.
'He has to be..ok no, I know him better then that.. just keep digging your grave jerk.' Alex thought then took a deep calming breath.
"Thank you for letting me do your landry big brother." he said, clenching a fist.
"Anytime dork. not get to it, you don't have a whole lotta time. my clothes are in the hamper in the bathroom." Justin said and started to walk away, then poked his head back in. "Oh and dweeb? next time don't forget to put on your diapies when your going for your afternoon nap."
and with that he walked off laughing.
"...I'm SO going to enjoy getting him in diapers." Alex huffed.
Changing into a pair of clean spider-man shorts and a captain America t-shirt, Alex got the load of landry started and then went to work cleaning up the living room while keeping a eye on the time.
the chips were everywhere and every time he though he was done he'd spot some more and wondered how much the three bullies had actually managed to get in their stupid fat mouths.
Between the cleaning and getting landry switched over he didn't have time to make anything too special so he went with the old stand by of making macaroni and cheese with hot dogs as it was quick and simple and his parents never really expected Justin to go all out when he was cooking anyways.
Dinner was ready and the landry was finished by the time their parents got home, Alex just had to go and get it out of the dryer but he figured he'd have time to do it stealthy after eating.
"So, what did you boys do for fun today?" Dad asked as they were sitting at the dinner table, a small grimace on his face at the prospect of eating the old stand by.
"Oh well-" Alex started by Justin cut him off.
"It was pretty much same old same old for me, went out and played some football with the guys and had fun. Came back though and I think The twins brought over some super sugar loaded snacks or something because Alex and them where have a chip fight and trashed the living room. it was cute though." Justin said and smirked, winking at Alex who's jaw hung open.
"Alex, you didn't!" Mom signed and shook her head. "After supper you'll be cleaning up the living room!"
"Oh don't worry about it mom, I know little guys like him just need to get it out of their systems. after the twins went home he was super pooped though, think it was a sugar crash so let him go and take a nap and I cleaned up the living room." Justin lied.
"Well that was was nice of you Justin, but in the future leave the cleaning for Alex to do." Dad said and shook his head at Alex. "Alex, we've talked about this."
Alex for his part was stuttering now, trying to think of a way to prove his innocence without getting scolded but first shots had been fired by Justin and there was nothing he could do now.
"Alex did you say thank you to Justin for cleaning up after you?" Mom asked and her tone made it clear if he hadn't she expected him to now, but again Justin spoke up.
"Oh, he's already thanked me for something else. see somebody was just SO sleepy when he went for his nap that he forgot to get his bed wetter pants on and well, Let's just say it's a good thing I had to do a load of landry anyways." Justin said as Alex,'s jaw dropped.
"Y-You said..you.." Alex stammered.
"Alex! what have I told you about not going to sleep without one of your diapers on?" Dad asked in a sharp tone.
"N-Not to do it again or..or.." Alex whined, looking down and feeling ready to cry.
this wasn't fair! he'd done everything Justin had asked him too and he was still gonna get punished!
"Or you'll be spending the next day in your diapers all day. Now I was hoping NOT to have to use that punishment but clearly you've left me no choice. you can still use the potty of course, in fact I encourage it, but you WILL be in diapers all day tomorrow." Dad said.
His tone left no room for argument and feeling hot tears start to slid down his cheeks Alex looked down at his bowl of food and sniffled.
"Yes sir."
After supper Justin offered to do the dishes if Alex would go and get the landry out of the dryer, but mom said since Justin had already cleaned up after Alex, made supper and did the landry for the most part he could go and relax and watch TV with their dad while Alex got the landry out and folded it.
Justin smiled and kissed his mom's cheek and asked if she was sure, but she insisted and so he went and plopped down on the couch, ready to watch some hockey with his dad and giving Alex a shit eating grin as the huffy and tear stained cheek dork started to stomp his way up the steps till dad called for him to knock it off unless he wanted to go to bed early.
'Oh my god. this worked out even better then I could of hoped! Mom and Dad are just too easy!' Justin thought, having to bite his tongue every so often to keep from laughing.
the dweeb had done all the work and yet here he was sipping on pop and munching on chips with their dad while the dork was off folding his undies and was gonna be a crinkle butt the next day.
'It'll be a nice little preview of whats to come.' Justin thought and let out a little chuckle despite himself.
"what's so funny?" Dad asked.
"Oh, just thinking of how silly Alex and his friends looked this after noon. they were like sugar crazed toddlers." Justin lied.
"heh, Next time you should try and get a video of it, I bet it looked cute." Dad chuckled.
Upstairs Alex was mentally cursing up a storm, pissed off and fuming like crazy as he folded pair after pair of his brothers skid marked undies.
'Son of a bitch! son of a bisket eating bitch! I'm not just gonna get him in diapers, I'm gonna make him the biggest dumbest big baby loser of all time! I'm gonna have him in the halls of his school in nothing but huggies and a bib and bonnet!'
of course a small part of Alex knew that going that far likely wasn't gonna be possible, it was a warm thought that helped him keep from just having a melt down fit that would of gotten his bun's blistered and him put to bed before it was even 8 pm.
He should of know better then to think that Justin was gonna hold up his end of the deal, or he should of spoken up about getting the landry done but nope. He'd trusted his big brother and was paying the price for it now in spades.
'And now I have to wear a diaper all day tomorrow..Maybe I'll wait till Monday to go and talk with Max.' Alex thought.
it would mean putting his plans on hold for a bit but he really didn't wanna waddle the block and a half over to Max's with pampers on under his pants.
Finishing up the folding and putting the clothes away Alex checked to make sure that his rubber sheet was dry and tugged in his blanket he'd hung out the window to dry (as it would of taken up too much room in the machines to do Justin's landry too) and with it dry he started to make his bed.
'God, what did I ever do to deserve a asshole like him for a big brother.' Alex whined mentally and finished making his bed, looking it over and then jumping and letting out a girlish shriek as a hand came on his shoulder.
"heh, Relax sweetie, it's mommy." Came his mother voice, sounding a little amused.
"That's ok, I didn't need that heart." Alex huffed, blushing and turning around to face his smirking mother. "what's up mom?"
"Well I wanted to come up and check on how the folding was going and to help you get ready for bed." She said with a smile.
"...Mom it's not even 8 yet, and it's a Saturday night.." Alex said, not liking where this was going.
"Oh You can stay up and everything till 11 like normal, but I just wanna make sure you don't conk out with your 'special armor' on." she said, using finger quotes.
"Mom I think I'm quite capable of putting my own diaper on." Alex huffed, feeling a hot blush cover his face.
"And yet you soaked your bed earlier." She cheerfully pointed out.
"T-That was different, I was just all tired and didn't realize I'd be conking out!" Alex whined, sounding more like a fussy toddler the the big kid he was trying to be.
"I know sweetie, but it kinda goes with my point. what if you just conk out again tonight? do you really wanna have to go to school on Monday in a diaper?" She asked, and the ruffled his hair.
The mental image of it stopped Alex's whining in it's tracks, picturing himself in a bib and spider-man diaper and sucking on a paci in the halls.
"No way! I'd Dieeeee!" Alex whined and shook his head no A LOT.
"well then let mommy help you out. And also if your gonna keep being so tired maybe we'll lower your bedtime for awhile." She added, then smirked and winced at the glare Alex gave her. "Now now, no using your super pouty powers on family."
"Moooom!" Alex huffed but resigned himself to his fate, when she got like this there was no getting her to back down.
He reached under his bed and pulled out his pack of spider-man diapers and noted that he was running low, and started to tug down his shorts when mom spoke up.
"Oh Alex, before we get your in your bed time diaper, do you have to use the potty?"
"mom, I know I wet the bed but I THINK I would know if had to take a leak or a dump you kn-" Alex started and then there was a loud 10 second poot out of his bottom and his tummy was gurgling.
"You were saying?" Mom asked, holding her nose but smirking."
"I-I'll be back.." Alex said in a small voice, blushing SO bad as he went past her he was shocked his hair hadn't caught on fire.
As she watched him go and had to fight the urge laugh, the little guy's undies had a fresh skid mark appearing on the back.
'Maybe I should look into getting him some of those washable training pants.' She mused.
One trip to the potty later and with Alex realizing what's he'd almost done in his undies, and the fight was all out of the little guy at least for the moment.
Zero fight was put up as he let his mom take his shorts and briefs and then proceed to diaper him, numbly just going along with her requests of butt up and the like.
"Are you sure your feeling alright? Maybe I should of checked your temperature before getting the diaper on." Mom asked, putting a hand to Alex's forehead.
"N-No I'm fine..just I dunno, Tired." Alex said, wincing.
he had to be the only boy his age to still get his temperature checked via the back door and it's wasn't that fun of a experience.
"Hmmm I think somebody better lay off of the sweets for awhile if it leaves you JUST drained after." Mom said and then started to tug Alex's blanket up on him.
"M-Mom what are you doing?" Alex whined, looking at the clock, it was 7:51 PM!
"I think you've had a big day, and your just not feeling that good. it would explain all the huffing and whining too. if you be a good boy and go night night for me now I'll see what I can do to get your father to back off with the all day diaper punishment tomorrow. I have to take you shopping for more diapers anyways with you almost being out and you get embarrassed enough as is when your in your undies."
Alex whined and whimpered a little but after a few seconds just signed and nodded.
"Good boy." She said and leaned down, kissing his forehead and then went and got one of his stuffie style Avengers from their display shelf and handed him Thor.
Lacking the energy to fight back Alex just took the offered stuffie and snuggled into it as his mom turned off the lights in the room and paused at the doorway.
"Night night little guy. Mommy will leave the door open a crack for you so you don't get scared. Love you and see you in the morning." She coo'ed/
"..Love you too mommy." Alex said, blushing.
He hadn't been scared of the door in like ages but somehow mom had the impression he still was and the only reason he wouldn't accept a night light was Justin would complain.
She left the little guy to go to sleep and Alex listened to her footsteps.
'This is bull shit. I'm not some little baby! I bet I don't even fall asleep till 11 anyways.' He huffed, crinkling and squirming in his bed.
Five minutes later he was snoring softly around his thumb as he sucked it in his sleep.
"So did Alex give you much of a fight?" Justin asked as Mom came downstairs.
"Just a token one, he's already gone to bed. I don't think he's feeling well and I think that should excuse him for needing his punishment tomorrow." Anne said, though the last part was more directed at her husband.
"Look, rules are rules, and if we start g-" Jackson started but was cut off.
"Excuse me, but who's idea was the rule that a D or worse meant no TV or computer time, and yet Justin who got a D on his last English test is watching the game with you?" She asked sweetly.
Justin gulped now and turned to his dad.
"Uh..you know..I think mom's right, we can't punish Alex if he had his accident because he's sick!" Justin chimed in.
"Heh, Nice try buddy but your mother is right in a way. I can't really punish your brother and not punish you. "Jackson said
"Soooo Alex isn't wearing a diaper tomorrow?" Justin asked hopefully.
"try again buddy, but do it in anther room so I can finish watching the game." Jackson chuckled and ruffled his sons hair as the 12 year old pouted.
"Finnne, I'll just go to my room an-." he started to huff and went to get up.
"ahhh nope. First of all I know you well enough you'll just go on your laptop." Anne said. "and second of all your brother is sleeping. Don't worry though, we have LOTS of board games you can play with me."
"Geee, spending Saturday night playing board games with my mom. aren't I lucky." Justin groaned
One mind numbing night of games later and Justin went to bed, taking note of the fact that Alex had semi drenched his pillow in drool and was still sucking his thumb.
'Heh, He's kinda cute...Still gonna make him a big dumb diaper nerd chore boy..but he's cute.' Justin thought before going and climbing into his bed.
as he went to go to sleep he had the most wonderful evil idea that could at the same time be played off as just being a nice big brother and help get 'revenge' on Alex for making him miss the end of the game.
'Hehehehe damn I'm so smart!' Justin chuckled and dropped off to sleep.
32 notes · View notes
mediocre--writing · 4 years ago
Note
Sad hc but Billy teaching Will about what’s going on with AIDS and giving him a really strict talk about it and being careful/cautious about who he gets involved with
Also, Billy helping Will learn to sort of “hide” his queerness in Indiana to keep him safe
oooooh i like this one
so i’ve seen another story or blurb about this (it was either on here or ao3 but i don’t remember who wrote it) but i really liked it and am making my own twist on it
steve and billy have been dating for a few months, now. the kids haven’t given them more than the wave of a hand at the specifics of their relationship, other than the ‘shovel talk’ the boys gave to billy, and the one max gave to steve
other than will. not in a critical way, no, just pure curiosity and wonderment about how they’ve managed to find one another and remain happy together
it’s not until a few weeks after wills initial wondering that things start to piece together, the stupid names his dad would call him, his dependency on mike, the way he never felt to strongly towards girls
will is gay.
how could he not have realized, all the clues were right there! maybe he was ignoring that part of him from the awful things that have been ingrained into his mind at an early age
but if steve and billy are met with love and kindness from their friends, then will should be too, right?
but with acceptance came one crucial point: telling people. will was not ready for everyone to know
so he went to an expert
steve had been brushing his teeth, getting ready for bed when he heard the doorbell ring. rushing downstairs, toothbrush still in his mouth, he quickly unlocked the door and opened it to reveal... a sweaty will byers
“uhh... kid it’s late and i—“
“i’m gay.” will cut steve off
steve’s jaw dropped and, as a result, his toothbrush went clattering to the ground
“that’s great! i mean, it’s not great— wait it’s good that you are— shit i’m no good at this? i’m sorry. billy is much better at dealing with these kind of situations,”
and steve left will standing in the open doorway as he ran upstairs, after bending down to pick up his toothbrush
will, shocked to his core, just stood, waiting in the open door
but how was he to know that the most surprising thing to happen that night was billy, groggily and probably just asleep, coming down the stairs quietly scolding steve (who was pattering next to him)
billy took one look at will, still bundled in coats standing outside the door, and gave a look to steve
“go make hot chocolate, we’re gonna be here a while,”
steve walked off to the kitchen and billy invited wills in, closing and locking the door and sitting down on the couch with will
“so... you’re gay?”
“uhhh... yeah”
“alright so what’s the story?”
“i’m sorry?”
“what made you realize you were gay, or who?”
will felt the blush creep up his neck and felt like dying in that moment. seeing the boy floundering, billy began speaking,
“when i was in california, there was this boy when i was 13, his name was jackson, and he was one of the coolest people i’d ever known. he skated, much better than max does, and he had this long, black hair and wore these cool, painted jean jackets, even when it was super hot outside
“he had really dark brown eyes and wore this cool, feather earring. he had the prettiest smile and we had been friends for years before that, but one day, we were sitting on the beach, and the sun looked so pretty shining down on his face, and i realized i liked him, a lot,”
will didn’t think that billy realized he was smiling as he reminisced. he doesn’t think billy knows that steve is peaking out of the kitchen listening either
“did you date?” will asked innocently, seeing the way the light in billy’s eyes started to dim at the question
“not, not really. my dad, he wasn’t a fan of our kind, if you know what i mean. we kind-of started dating at 14, snuck around for two years. we would go on dates, but would usually go in a group of friends so it wasn’t too obvious. we would kiss, sometimes, but we never were really ‘together’
“it’s the reason we moved here, ya know?” wills interest was peaked, “my dad caught us kissing and that, of course, wasn’t ok, so he moved us out to the most conservative place he could find, far away from california, and i haven’t talked to jackson since. but i found something better, i was lucky and i—for whatever reason—got steve,”
will figured that steve disappearing back into the kitchen was a result of the tears that were coming out of his eyes.
“so what’s your story, kid?”
“i think, i might like mike. but i didn’t realize i was even... gay until you and steve came out and were happy how you were,”
“ok, so why didn’t you tell your mom, or jon?”
“you guys understand. they would support me so much, but they just wouldn’t get how hard it is to feel, to feel this way! because, i don’t know everyone says we’re going to hell or are awful and i don’t wanna be hated because i like guys!”
wills eyes were all teary after his confession, and billy gave him a comforting side hug (will realized max wasn’t lying when she said that billy gave the best hugs) and steve came out with three hot chocolates
billy was still shushing him in his ear, whispering ‘i get it, i understand, you are still you, doesn’t matter who you like,’ and will swears he has never felt more comforted by anyone other than his mother before
will stopped crying a few minutes after, taking a cup of hot cocoa and sipping on it in peaceful silence
steve was more than half asleep on the opposite end of the couch, but billy was wide awake next to will, despite how tired he was earlier
“how much do you know... about, gay things?” billy cringed at the way he phrased it, but assumed joyce and jon weren’t exactly the best people to explain the situation to will
“what’d you mean?”
“like... aids?” billy set his mug down and leaned foreword, resting his hands on his knees, “you know anything about that?”
“i... have seen some things. not a lot, but i know of it,”
“well, i want you to be safe. this isn’t some thing you should be joking about at school or anything. it’s serious, like really fucking serious. i knew a guy, he owned a diner in cali, and he got it from... a partner... and he died. you understand that this is serious?”
will nodded his head quickly, billy continued
“you don’t sleep with just anyone, ok? you don’t seem like a person who would, but just be careful, always use condoms, always be careful. don’t do drugs, at all, because i’m not dealing with you if you become a heroin addict, ok?”
will nodded, but there was something in billy’s voice that told him that id he did get addicted to heroin, billy would try his hardest to take care of him.
“if you sleep with someone and you just want to be sure, get tested. its better safe than sorry, alright?”
“alright,” will nodded again. “what about you and steve?”
“we both got tested and we aren’t sleeping around with other people, we’ll be fine, kid,”
“ok, good,”
“no need to worry about us, ok?”
“i worry about all of my friends,”
“kid, i really want you to be safe, alright? and you know you shouldn’t really blab about this to the town, me and steve haven’t even told our parents, your little group are the only ones who know,”
“they already call me a f—“
“i don’t give a shit and don’t you dare call yourself that! you’re better than whatever shit they wanna call you. you’ve got a great future and you’re not gonna get it if some hick in this town kills you because you like dick, alright?
“i want you safe, and if anyone gives you trouble or you have questions, you can come to me or steve, any time, any day.”
billy’s eyes were intense and will felt small under them, but also felt safe and loved as an entire person, as who he truly is and who he wants to be.
steve was still snoring lightly at the end of the couch, making billy chuckle a little
“well, if it’s past 10:30, steve’s not gonna be awake, he’s an old man on the inside,”
will laughed at the comment and steve choked on a snore as he woke himself up, wild eyes looking around, catching a bashful will, who was still laughing
“wha—“
“go back to sleep, princess,” billy chuckled and steve nodded, laying his head back on the pillow and closing his eyes
“can i sleep over? my mom thinks i’m at mikes, and probably wouldn’t like me biking this late,”
“course kid, this house has like six extra bedrooms, we’re lucky steve’s all rich ‘n shit,” billy wiggled his eyebrows and led will to a guest bedroom and made sure he was settled in before going to pick up steve and carry him to bed
will figured he’d still have to tell his mom and friends, but he felt safe here with billy and steve, so he guessed things wouldn’t be so bad.
43 notes · View notes
pyraffin-drgo · 4 years ago
Text
All Heavy interactions in Poker Night at the Inventory.
For you to interpret however you wish.
Video Version
(They have [bootleg movies] in your country?) "I like movies, yes." (Yeah, like what? [Lists movies]?) "No. My favorite are The Dirty Dozen and the first twenty minutes of Rocky four."
(We can talk Tetris?) "Hmmph. Tetris is baby game." (Tetris Attack keeps it hood!) "Why does everybody think I love this Tetris? It is just stacking!"
"[To Strongbad] Tiny Heavy." (What is it?) "Do you get the nightmares?" (I get the jibblie nightmares. [Describes silly nightmare, shivers].) "I am talking about the visions of endless suffering. Dead doctors everywhere. Spy can not be found. (No, but that sounds like the Jibblies.) "I do not like these 'jibblies.'"
"Strong and bad. How is boxing career?" (These. Are. My. HANDS!) "I was boxer, once. In school. We have to either box or learn to herd goats." Silence, looking concerned. "I am not good with goats..." (Too much information, man.) "At first, I do not like punching other boys... But then I learn to love it." Punches his palm menacingly.
(Find any rare drops lately?) "I do not understand." (When you get a kill, you get a present?) "When I get kill, I get honor of team." Smile drops. "Sometimes... I also get nightmares. A man does not go home to his wife and children." (So, no loot?) "Oh! You mean hat! Yes, I love hats! Sometimes, I get these. They are the best."
(Hey, Heavy. You know any hot Russian spies?) "I hate spies." (But you gotta have the inside line on some deadly minxes.) "You want hot spy?" (Am I not wrestle man?) "I have friend who gets you a hot spy. (Get em on the two-way, man!) "His name is Pyro." (Tycho, to Strongbad: The spy is hot because it is on fire.) (Oh...)
"[To Tycho] What do you do with life?" (Me?) "Yes. What is possible with tiny, frail body?" (I occupy myself with simulations... of various kinds.) "What is these?" (Struggles to explain.) (Strongbad: He lives in his parent's basement.)
(So, is there a Mrs. Weapons Guy?) "No. Sasha is my only love." (Sasha kills people, I presume?) "No." (Oh?) "WE kill people."
"[To Strongbad] Maybe you and I box?" (I can't risk my beautiful face, it's the franchise.) "We spar. For fun." (I don't think so.)
"Strong and bad. You wrestle? With mask?" (No, I'm a wrestle man, not those hack wrestle-LERS.) "Not like Iron Sheik?" (No, Iron Stake is a LER.) Heavy nods. "Hmm. This is too bad."
(So how long you been with those Team Fortress fellas?) "I do not understand." (The game's been on Steam for like 3 years. I imagine there was some audition process?) "Ohhh! Yes, I understand! I kill many men VERY quickly." (Excuse me?) "I kill record number of soldiers, and I am commissioned to join RED team."
(Mr. Weapons. I am in the market for a new firearm. [Specifications].) "Hmm, for you I do not recommend minigun then. You know, there is this fast baby man that annoys me greatly with shotgun." (Oh! Oh! What are the available options? I'll spring for leather!) "Da, this is good for you. I suggest Force-A-Nature." (I'll tell them [shop owner] Heavy Weapons Guy sent me.) "It is no need. I know guy."
"I will make hat from you, little bunny." No reply from anyone. A reference for the player to the Max hat in TF2.
"You look familiar, bunny." (How closely do you follow the Manhattan Crime Blotter?) Also a reference to the hat, Tycho then takes over conversation.
(If I need someone snuffed out, what's your going rate?) "Five hundred thousand U.S. dollars." (Steep.) "Cash." (You can do it discreetly?) "Sasha... not so discreet." (That's fine.)
(How did you guys hear of the inventory?) "My engineering friend brought me one night."
(This reminds me of the time Artie Flopshark rigged an entire poker tournament to pay off his loan shark.) "I know of this. This is respectable profession in motherland." Conversation is stolen by Tycho.
(This reminds me of [story]!) "I am reminded of time Engineer kill my entire team." (Damn Heavy, that's... heavy. Sorry to hear that.) "I search entire base for him. He tries to kill me with turret and mini turret, but I crush his toys like they are made of paper." (Sounds like crappy toys.) "Then I find him. Hiding by teleporter. I take his gun away from him. He tries to hit me with wrench! Hahohoh! So I take wrench away from him. I take his wrench and shove it down his throat, all the way down to the handle." (Christ!) Heavy laughs. "Then I rip off all his fingers one by one!" He talks while laughing. "Lets see you build toys now!" He breaks out in laughter. "There's blood- everywhere! And- he's crying!" More laughter. "I think he cries out for mother, but- but-" Crumples over laughing. "The wrench is stuck in his throat! And it sounds like-" Makes choking motions and noises then laughs. "Is this not the funniest thing??" (Horrified looks) (Head shakes slowly.) (That's some bleeped up bleep, man!)
(How about you, Heavy weapons? I'm guessing you're a vodka guy?) "Peach Bellini. But bubbles can give me headache."
(Mr. Weapons, how do you like your line of work?) "It is good. There are many benefits." (Oh! Like a free pass to snuff out bad guys or a waffle bar?) "Both. And full dental."
(I wonder if this dump is haunted.) (I hope so! Roughing up who can't die is fun!) "...I do not like ghosts..." (It's okay, Mr. Weapons. I have [extensive experience]. I can handle a few ghosts.) "...You will take care of ghosts for me?" (You bet cha!) Heavy nods at him. "I like you, tiny rabbit."
[Story including a union] "I am union. RED local six fifteen." (You guys unionized?) "Eh. It was necessity for group medical."
"Tycho. This sweater, is special equipment?" (No, standard issue.) "You have no class specific head gear?" (Got a motorcycle helmet that protects from 100% of UV rays.) "This sounds beneficial."
(Why do you keep calling me 'Tiny Heavy'?) "You are Heavy. Tiny. No? You are RED team. You have killing gloves of boxing. You earn these for being great killer! You should try out for RED team." (Hmm. Guess I could join your team of ruthless killers and lame hat wearers and watch you get grenaded by 8 year olds.) "You will take many bullets before dying I think."
(Hey, Heavy. I just finished [Russian fantasy book]. Ever read it?) "No." (Oh. What's your favorite book?) "I prefer war." (Ah, War and Peace. Tasteful.) "No. Just war." (Art of War?) "Nyet." Silence. "I like 'Tsar Hunger' by Leonid Andreyev. You know this?" (...No.) "Is classic."
"You have hands like young girl." (I keep them shits moist.) "...So you are more of sneaky, stabbing type?" (In an extreme circumstance, I guess.) Heavy looks at him suspiciously. "I keep my eyes on you." (No, no no- I wasn't implying that-) Heavy looking at him angierly. (Shit.)
(Ever listen to music while you work?) "Yes! I just buy new walkman." (What gets you in the killing mood? Icelandic death metal?) "I just get Huey Lewis tape. Keeps spirits up on battle field."
"[To Tycho] You have woman?" (Not with me) "She is pretty?" (Yeah, cute, glasses, red hair.) "She has the red hair??" (No, Heavy! She is not on the other team! Don't have to kill her!) "No. But I love the red hair!" (Well, you can't have her, either.) Re-used image of Heavy looking at him angrily. (Well, maybe we can work something out.)
(Hey, Heavyman. You think you can 'take care' of the King of Town for me?) "I can assassinate king, yes. It is expensive, though." (By take care of I meant sneak in and shave off half his mustache.) "I am not best at sneaking." (Confront him in a dark alley then?) "This is better. That way blood wash away in rain."
(You have any interest in moonlighting?) "WHAT? I am not moonlighter!" (Just a little work on the side with Sam and me beating up goons!) "Oh. I can not do this." (C'mon it's fun and free!) "No, I am sure it is." (Then what's the problem?) "I have non compete." (Ah, yeah. Lawyers.)
(All these aces reminds me of [weird dream]. You have any weird dreams, Mr. Weapons?) "I sometimes dream that I am killed. There is blood everywhere. (Tycho gives him a weird look) But then I wake up and I realize this is ridiculous! Nobody can kill Heavy weapons guy! (Riiiight...)
"[To his chips] This is good Solider. This one is good Doktor. You are demolition man."
"Saaaandvich, sandvich, I love you sandvich!" (Would you like someone to order you some food?)
"Blue man." (Tycho.) "Tycho. What college do you go to? You are educated, no?" (Actually, no.) "No?" (I studied at Gygax Polyhedral if you catch my drift.) "I do not. This is good school?" (Uh. The best.) "I went to Soviet College of Mines, Farms, and Science. I have PhD in Russian literature." (Do you.. use that in your work?) "More than you think."
"Tiny Heavy, who is your favorite to kill in war?" (Those discount three-pack green helmets.) "To kill spy is glorious thing! How about you, Max? You are killing type." (My favorite enemy? Like asking me to choose between my children!) Heavy laughs. "You crack me up, little bunny!"
(Hey, Hefty Bag, you ever play video games?) "Just one." (Oh yeah?) "It is called-" (Tycho: WoW?) "Nyet. That is not popular. It is called 'Where's an Egg'." (Strongbad: I love Where's an Egg!) "Where's an Egg is as big as Tetris in homeland."
(Concerning your firearm, whay caliber we talking?) "Big." (What, we talking 300 Weatherby Mag here?) "Bigger." (50 cal, whereabouts?) "Bigger than 50 caliber. They are hand made custom tool cartridges with classified diameter." (Why's that?) "So enemy canmot use ammunition. But Sasha can chew through theirs." (Diabolical!) "I think so." Nods.
(Alright, big pretend killer man. Tell me the most awesome story you have with plenty of senseless violence!) Heavy thinks. "When I was boy, I was at camp, being trained in many ways of combat." (Assassination camp for kids! This is gonna be good!) "There was sparrow sitting on fence. Snow falls quietly around me. Without notice, another boy jumps from behind tree and kills sparrow with throwing knife. The boy runs away." (And then??) "I pick up sparrow, and hear his last breath before digging him tiny grave..." (Tycho crying) (Max silent) (That's not even a little bit funny, man.) Heavy shakes his head solemnly. "No..." Sits back. "It's not."
(So, what do you do for fun?) "Clean Sasha. Use Sasha... Clean Sasha again." (Proper maintience is crucial.) "I also collect old coins." (A fellow numismatist!) "Which I melt down to make custom bullets." (Of course.)
"I am hungry for sandvich." (Then order a sandvich, man.) "Oh, I can not have sandvich! I become unstoppable killing machine!" (Yeah, maybe order a water.) "Is best."
"You wear blue sweater." (All the time.) "What are you?" (Haven't we went over this?) "You are not Scout. Maybe very tricky blue Spy? Maybe... new class?" (I can use a keyboard to sabotage your entire team, steal your intelligence, and have your sister delivered to my doorstep in one afternoon. Yes, I'm a new class.) Heavy, shocked, "This is true??"
(Hey, Heavyman, what's your living situ-aysh?) "I live in RED barraks. Is nice. There is foos table." (How about taking a room in the house of Strong?) "There is vacancy?" (First you'll have to dump the current person in your room.) "This is enemy?" (He won't put up much of a fight.)
Hope you enjoyed, spent most of the day copying all these down. The non-Heavy lines are paraphrased for shortness. Heavy's are full, how they are in game.
116 notes · View notes
samwrights · 5 years ago
Text
Baby Fever
Tumblr media
I’ve said it once, I’ll say it 600 times. I need Hanamaki Takahiro to put a baby in me. Y’all are going to be so tired of me after this one. Fluff and slight NSFW. @dreamyjaems not totally daddy related, but pretty darn close ;)
Tumblr media
Hanamaki;
The first time he notices it is when you’re both out with another pair of couple friends.
They’d been married for six years, while the two of you were entering three years together, and they’d just had their first baby less than a year ago.
Despite never mentioning a future desire for them, Makki watched the way you interacted with that little girl and he knew straight away.
Haha, I’m in danger.
The way your eyes soften when you hold her or the way you’ve created a new, soft persona that only spoke in high pitched gibberish
The way you were constantly buying the baby’s clothes for no reason. At all.
It becomes more apparent when the two of you are out shopping and you somehow end up in the kids clothing section.
Baby vans is where Makki draws the line. Do y’all know expensive baby vans are? I’d draw the line too.
“Sweetie...sweetheart...love of my life...” Makki has a grin on his face, his eyes aren’t open, and he’s holding your guys’ statement for your joint bank account. “Mind telling me why the fuck you spent $138 at the vans store when you didn’t buy any new vans?”
“How do you know that I didn’t?”
“Because you would have shown me them.” His grin drops into an entirely unamused look. “What did you do?”
Sighing in defeat, you walked over to a nearby shoe closet, pulling out three boxes of baby vans in varying colors and sizes. “They were just so cute 🥺”
Makki takes a seat beside you on the couch, hunching over his knees while covering his face with one hand. “I wish you’d just talk to me about this first before you went splurging on a kid we don’t even have yet.”
Yet?? Y E T??
“I was under the impression you didn’t want any.” And that wasn’t necessarily wrong, per se. The two of you were still young, trying to work through college debt, and weren’t as stable as you could be. But Makki was in this for the long haul, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t want you to be the mother of his future children.
“I mean I’m not opposed to the idea of trying.”
“...wanna start trying right now?”
“You son of a bitch, I’m in.”
Tumblr media
Iwaizumi;
Iwaizumi was going to tear his hair out if he heard you coo at a baby one more time.
At first, it was fine. Yeah, the baby you spotted while the two of you were in line at Starbucks was cute. Even cuter when the baby waved to you, he wasn’t denying that.
But nearly every chance you got when the two of you were out in public, you’d smack him on the arm when you’d see a baby.
Legit, it was like you had a fucking radar on you.
“Haji, Haji, look! Look at how cute the wittle baby is!”
It was endearing, really, because he’d see the pout form on your lips as you tried to catch the infants attention. But again, that damned radar you had was driving him wild because it seemed to happen everywhere you went.
If there were toddler siblings or, heaven forbid, twins, you absolutely lost your shit. You fawning over one was bad enough but two? Or more? Good god.
Iwaizumi has banished all walks to the park. Walking your dog together? He made a new route away from the nearest children gathering place.
He couldn’t even bring you to McDonald’s anymore because you’d just stare at the fucking play place.
“D-do you really just not want kids, Hajime?” You’d asked him one time after seeing how red he turned with near anger? Maybe anger wasn’t the right word.
“That’s not it...”
???
He groans out of embarrassment cause he really doesn’t wanna admit this out loud. “Every time you talk about kids, I literally just wanna go home and fuck a baby into you.”
“Okay, so what the fuck are we waiting for?”
“College graduation???” Damn him and his logical rationalizations.
“We’re almost done with school—if we start now we’ll have already graduated before the baby’s even born.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me.”
Tumblr media
Oikawa;
Oikawa actually entertains your baby fever—which is no help at all.
I see him totally being the dude that indulges watching 16&Pregnant, Teen Mom, etc. with you.
Half the time, you guys make bets over which couple’s going to break up, who loses custody of their child, so on and so forth.
But one thing remains consistent with the two of you—who the cutest babies are.
A constant topic of conversation between the two of you during these times is how idiotic some of the parents were. Have y’all ever seen Unexpected? Diego was the worst, and both of you had a unanimous opinion on that.
Unfortunately for you, these shows really start piquing your curiosity as to how yours and Oikawa’s little one would actually be.
And how the two of you would be as parents. It does upset you a little bit, considering he’s heavily focused on his pro career.
Oikawa notices the lack of desire to watch any of the aforementioned shows, despite that being a typical Friday night thing for the two of you. Friday night (baby) Fever.
“Alright, what’s wrong, love?”
“Nothing? I just feel like we should do something else.”
“Uh, no. I know you’re dying to see what the hell Max was doing while Chloe was giving birth.” 💀💀💀 he’s not wrong.
You gnaw on your lip while you make dinner—as per usual for your Friday nights. You always made something that required a bit more love while Tooru kept you up to date with his career.
“Do you think we would be better parents?”
“Duh,” he responds without skipping a beat. “both of us know how to make a bottle and change diapers.” He adds, referencing to the multitude of times you’d babysat friends’ kids or his newly born niece.
“Tooru, I’m serious.” A dry yet light laugh leaves his lips before he’s standing behind you, wrapping his arms just under your breasts and resting his chin on your head.
“I am too. I’ve just been waiting for you to give me permission.”
Oya? Wait, shit wrong person sorry
Needless to say, y’all don’t need to watch anymore pregnancy shows after this—too occupied with your own journey into parenthood.
Tumblr media
Matsukawa;
Oh Mattsun, my clueless bunny.
He probably wouldn’t even notice, tbh, that you literally are in near tears when you see a cute baby.
Cause I imagine his s/o would be one that cries over all the cute things. Puppies? Cry. Kittens? Cry. Otter pups? Double cry.
But he seems to be missing the key theme here—b a b i e s, Issei.
He kinda dense.
You’ve always been good with kids without really trying, he learned, when you started watching your best friend’s five year old son once a week.
The little bean was your best friend, besides his mom and Issei of course. Every Thursday, you got up early so you could welcome the boy, make him breakfast, and hang out with him all day.
At first, it did funny things to Mattsun to see the way you’d glow while making slime or watching your favorite kid’s movies with him.
He learned quickly you could quote the entirety of Hercules and Mulan, and often acted out the singing parts with great theatrics.
When your best friend would come for her son, you’d get a little sad, enough for Mattsun to notice. He’s not that dense.
But dense enough not to notice the way you longingly stare at mothers holding the hands of their toddlers or carrying their babies while the two of you are out grocery shopping.
You’ve never wanted anything more than to have a kid with Issei. Even if he is kinda 💀💀
He’s so good to you, and it kinda hurts your heart the way he brushes off hanging out with you and the kiddo. Like he doesn’t want children period.
So, like any other healthy relationship, you actually decide to sit down and have a talk with him about this. Low key, it kinda scared him cause he thought you were about to dump him. “Do you see yourself having kids in the future?”
“Babe, I physically cannot.”
“I fucking hate you, Issei. I’m being serious.” Despite your words, you try not to laugh. You failed.
“What brought this on?”
“You just never seem to want to hang out with me and the rugrat when he’s over.”
“Not gonna lie, it’s just really hot watching you play mom.”
“You know, I don’t have to play mom.”
“Bedroom. Now.”
596 notes · View notes
faraway-in-headspace · 4 years ago
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I?? I searched Chicken Choice Judy on google out of curiosity because it sounds oddly familiar like there’s a similar-sounding name and I found 4 websites selling the shirt design. But the descriptions on these pages are BUCK WILD??
Written version of the descriptions under the cut (very long).
[Begin ID
First image states:  Long ago, when I had hair, I was an undergrad living in a house with nine other men. Near as I can tell, three of them (not sure which three) never bought food, just lived off what they stole from the Chicken Choice Judy shirt But I will love this other seven. We had several house meetings about it, but nothing changed. One day, I came in from grocery shopping. By coincidence, all 10 of us were in the kitchen. I started putting my stuff away. 1st thing I pulled out of the bag was my half-gallon of milk. I opened the carton, took a couple of drinks from the carton, then gargled some of it, and spit it back in. I opened my tub of margarine and licked the whole surface. By now, the room chatter had stopped because the other nine jaws had dropped open.) To your original question, those specific topics would take several years to build, as they depend on several layers of pre-requisites, which would require either that more advanced topics such as algebraic topology to be taught in elementary school, or that the buildup process happened blazingly fast during high school – both of which probably stretch the biological limits of what pre-teens and teenagers can reasonably be expected to accomplish. I spit on all my veggies, took the bread out of the package, and licked and spit on it, then carefully put it all back in the plastic bag. Remind teenage daughters to look through them before going on date with the boyfriend, in case they want to use one. I labeled it all and put it away. None of it was stolen. I never said a word, but I made it a point to repeat the performance anytime anyone was around to see it. Others began to emulate my approach and food theft stopped. Even I found it revolting, but it solved the problem. Works even better if you are sick or can at least make your thieving roommates think you are. While some cities are starting to reopen in the wake of the COVID-19 pandemic, people around the country are continuing to wear masks in public and practice social distancing. Vogue is committed to staying safe, and offering hopeful, optimistic content that highlights moments of camaraderie and exceptional acts of heroism from around the world. We are all looking for a little comfort too—be it a soothing Instagram account or a stylish creator on TikTok. It reminds us of the power of little things.
Second image states:  A couple of guests informed me my office was too minimalist and that they expected more things to be hanging on my wall the Chicken Choice Judy shirt besides I will buy this next time they visited my wife’s and my home. I kinda hope they held their breath while they were waiting for our next invitation. They both went on to backstab me and my wife pretty bad a few years later. Another set of guests tried to squat. I had driven them all the way from Florida to Massachusetts under the impression that they had jobs and a place to live lined up. They offered no money for gas, hotels on the three-day trip, or compensation for the inconvenience and effort. He even tried to weasel out of the dinner he offered as a thank you by forgetting his wallet. The dude got me off the streets years ago and I wanted to pay him back in some way, but my wife and I were in no position to have extra residents in our home. We just don’t have the room or money. I made all of this VERY clear and told my old buddy that we could only house them for a couple of days max. There are MANY other details, but the disrespectful thing my former friend said was wordless. As I was kicking them out and they were angrily loading stuff into my car to bring them anywhere but here, my buddy left his gigantic knife right in the center of my wife’s desk. Like that was supposed to make us change our minds and let them stay? In the days of dial-up, I had a family call and not be able to get through because we were online. They decided to show up unannounced. They literally caught me in my underwear as they were let into the apartment before I could even react to being rudely surprised. Some of my family members have a history of abuse, violence, and stalking, something at least one of the visitors, my mother, was quite aware of since she lived through it with me. Her tagalong friend decided to put in her two cents and tell me I should get a call waiting or a second line because they were trying to call me. That did it! I suddenly forgot I was just wearing underwear and angrily asked my mother’s friend if she was paying my phone bill. My mother-in-law, stepfather and mom’s friend beat a hasty retreat and NEVER did the pop-in ever again.
Third image states:  That was why when we did get to reality shows, Etro and then Dolce & Gabbana plus Jacquemus later in France, it was wonderful. Clothes are all about contact: As a wearer, you feel them on your skin, and as a watcher, you process them with your eye. The watching part can be done secondhand, but the Chicken Choice Judy shirt in contrast I will get this impact will always be second to the real thing. I read some commentators in the U.S. saying, “Too soon” or “Wear a damn mask!” which I always did, but these opinions while valid enough lack perspective. Milan and its surrounding region Lombardy went through what New York did but earlier. Through sagacious governmental management much more effective than that of the U.S., Italy has managed dramatically to flatten the curve across the rest of its territory. These shows just like the reopening of flights, stores, factories, and restaurants were symptomatic of recovery that, far from being taken for granted, is being tended to with vigilance and cherished with gratitude. The digital Fashion Weeks were better than no Fashion Weeks at all, but as an upgrade on the real thing? Nah. Like everyone, I missed the shows in the experiential sense this season. But for the first time since I began covering the collections several years ago, I didn’t miss a single brand or designer’s contribution to Paris Fashion Week. Which is to say, thanks to the Fédération’s online platform, I was able to watch every name on the haute couture and men’s calendars. This brand on-demand convenience not to mention being spared the logistical headaches of zigzagging across the city was pretty great. Also, everything was on time, from the films to the manner in which we filed our reviews. While efficiency can be satisfying, it’s not necessarily exciting. Ultimately, we had to accept that the focus this season wasn’t going to be the clothes but rather the brands conveying some combination of identity, process, and values. And in the absence of standardized criteria as in, showing a minimum number of looks, specifying a time range, it was interesting to observe how heterogeneous these experiments proved to be quasi–ad campaigns versus short films, conceptual or fantastical visions versus raw and documentary style. A proper kimono takes nearly an hour to put on – I’m sure most Japanese girls would much rather spend a few seconds and slip on a dress. Get survey responses from targeted consumers today.
Fourth image states:  Around a decade ago, not long after he started his own label, Massimo Alba made a great mistake. A batch of shirts and T-shirts he was working on that had already been garment-dyed one color were mistakenly exposed to another. Speaking at his showroom presentation this weekend, Alba said: “It’s very interesting to me that so many good things start out as mistakes like this.” That accident was to Alba what the Chicken Choice Judy shirt moreover I will buy this mold-infected petri dish was to Alexander Fleming: a stumbled-upon eureka that led to a career-defining course of the investigation. This collection featured a series of softly tailored jackets, corduroy pants, and shorts, plus light cashmere sweaters that were hand-overdyed two, and sometimes three colors. It’s a process that led to variations in tone that included acid-trip floods of purple on purple to subtle bleeding of magenta across mustard yellow. Like most of Alba’s garments, these dyed pieces appeared at first glance conventionally prosaic. The more attention you gave them, however, the more their exceptional qualities became evident. Take a pale blue jacket, for instance, which at that first glance seemed passingly related to a surgeon’s scrubs. To the hand it was light and almost textureless in its softness: The fabric was a cotton mousseline developed for Alba by Albini. Long-sleeved, in a delicately mottled finish of washed-out sky blue, it made for an ideal mid-summer shake in pink, sleeveless, it was an impactful shirting second skin. Other interesting developments this season included a cotton pant named the Myles with acutely kinking stitched gather at knee-level on both legs and another handsome pant, baggy in white poplin, with patch pockets. A blue tropical weight jacket named the Lenny, after Bernstein, was Alba’s interpretation of a bohemian creative’s ideal piece of workwear. Collarless shirts in ripstop linen and button-up short-sleeves in terry were further finely effective coups de théâtre. Alba is a self-deprecating yet dangerous designer: Try just one carefully chosen piece and that’s it, you’re spoiled for good because nobody else quite compares. The museum in Prague where this portrait is held describes the ring on her first finger as the ring given to her at her wedding. It’s not comfortable. Maybe a lot of girls think that a see-through blouse can attract the attention of boys or they think that it will make her look much smarter. Meghan has no dress sense: no knowledge of fabrics, fit, styles that flatter, proper tailoring, Her father raised her in L.A. Enough said. Her idea of dressing for an event is “dress up” like a little girl dressing up as a princess. Shiny! Tight! Celebrity “fashion” not elegant, just flashy.
/end ID]
14 notes · View notes
Text
melodic in thought
hey hi hello! this is my oc max and part of her group! kellin is her best friend! all ocs mentioned and written except for rowan were created by me! rowan was created by @sixer-mayhem
Tumblr media
It was a day or so before Max’s 23rd birthday. Max was the oldest of her group; her and Rowan were the oldest, then came Kellin, Aries and Andie, and lastly Violet and Niall were the youngest. They’re both still not legally allowed to drink but Max has given them both White Claw on several occasions and Kellin has taken them away from the duo. What a trip.
Today, Max had Rowan over to she and Kellin’s apartment for a little pre-celebration before the whole crew went laser tagging. It was never a dull moment when the six went laser tagging. Especially since the last time they went laser tagging, they met Rowan at the ice cream parlor and now he’s a super close friend of the group’s.
“So I bought these really small party hats at the dollar tree because it was just too fuckin funny,” Kellin laughed, setting the cylindrical container of party hats on the coffee table.
“Gimme the gold one—I want the gold one!” Rowan said, reaching for the container before Kellin swiped it away.
“Calm down, Ro!” Kellin laughed, “Max is the birthday girl, let her pick first.”
“I mean my birthday is Wednesday but I like this extra attention,” Max chuckled, “I was going to take the gold one to piss Rowan off but I like the pink one more!” She laughed, taking the pink one and putting it on. “Kells look! It matches the first time I ever dyed my hair since I shaved my side in freshman year!”
Kellin laughed, “I remember when you dyed your hair light pink in sophomore year—hell that’s when you never noticed me in school until we met at that Green Day show. Good times, good times.”
“Yeah, but now it’s purple,” Max used the palm of her hand to puff her ponytail a little bit, “And I like it be—“
“Wait. You two met at a Green Day concert but went to the same school?” Rowan asked, running a hand through his shiny red hair.
“Long story dude. The whole group formed because we met at that RevRad show. I knew Andie and Aries since middle school and Kells has been buds with Niall and Violet since like elementary school.
“And that’s also why there’s a signed vinyl of Revolution Radio on the wall that’s framed” Kellin chuckled and pointed to the framed vinyl on the wall, outlined in fairy lights. Below it was a picture of Max when she was a sophomore with the three guys in Green Day.
Minutes passed as Max and Kellin reminisced of the first time they ever met. Max was always put in the lower classes because she didn’t do that great in school and she was a chaos maker right after she went punk. Kellin was in honors and AP classes because he used his brain for something worthwhile.
“Can we get pizza? I’ll treat—“
“Max you’re not treating, it’s your birthday! Just relax!” Kellin smiled, reaching for his phone.
“Max you better have good taste in pizza.” Rowan jokingly threatened.
“Was that a promise or a threat?“ Max laughed, lightly pushing Rowan away.
“Shh you two, I’m putting the call in.” Kellin beamed, looking at the duo across from him.
Kellin was the only one brave enough to call, so he put it in for the cowards. “Max what do you want on your pizza?”
“Pepperoni and pineapple!” Max cheered excitedly—this was her favorite topping combo for whatever reason.
“Wait what the fuck—“ Rowan paused and looked at Max.
“Yes I know, she’s a weirdo,” Kellin mouthed to Rowan as he finished up the order.
“Hey! You’re just as weird as I am!” Max teased, lightly punching him in the shoulder.
After awhile of Rowan and Max yelling at each other over Max’s favorite pizza toppings, the delivery person finally showed up and kellin answered the door and brought the pizza in for the trio.
“Oh I’m not done with this argument. That’s fuckin weird man!” Rowan said to Max as Kellin got everyone plates for the evening dinner.
Rowan got a slice and just decided to try it even though he hated the concept. With a mouthful of pizza, “I hate to admit it but this is really good.”
Max slammed her fists on the table and pointed, “SEE! I TOLD YOU ITS GOOD!”
Kellin just watched them fight with the widest eyes and praying no one got hurt.
Eventually they ate up an entire large pizza with three White Claws between Rowan and Max, Kellin just had Sprite.
“Hey Max, before I head home for the night,” Rowan pulled something out of his denim jacket pocket. He handed her a pin that looked like a laser gun, “I couldn’t wait to give it to you for your birthday because it reminded me of you.” Rowan got up and fist bumped Kellin and went over to hug Max, “Happy early birthday dude. I’ll see you both Wednesday!”
1 note · View note
echo-bleu · 4 years ago
Text
take me back to the start (2)
 Chapter 1
Read on AO3
For @moonlight-breeze-44 More angst! And a lot of Magnus in this chapter. Huge thanks to @jeanboulet for betaing this. [Specific warnings: suicidal thoughts (mentioned), terminal illness/poisoning, internalized ableism]
Magnus curses when he feels his wards being breached. It’s someone his magic registers as a friend, but it’s still nearly midnight and he was ready for bed. He’s spent fewer nights at Pandemonium recently, discovering that he’s not in the mood for dancing and hooking up with strangers.
He’s trying to breeze through life like he’s always pretended to do, but there’s something missing. He doesn’t know what. It’s like there’s a hole in his life whose shape he can’t quite make out.
Or can he? His dreams have been filled with bows and arrows lately. And Shadowhunters. He glances at the box still on his nightstand, that he can’t seem to stop staring at every night, idly wondering what it contains.
With a wave of his hand, he changes his outfit for something more socially appropriate and unlocks the door of his loft. Which of his friends would have come at this hour, unannounced? It can only be an emergency.
“Magnus! Please, we need your help!”
It’s not a friend at all, it turns out – Magnus will have to figure out later why his wards would let any Shadowhunters through. It’s Jace Herondale, of all people. His voice is tense and scared. Magnus takes a few more steps into the living room to see him, and finds him and Isabelle carrying a barely conscious Alec between them. They’re followed by a fourth person, one that immediately makes Magnus’ blood boil. Maryse Lightwood.
Magnus entertains the thought of just throwing them out, briefly, but he can’t. He’s not the kind of person to refuse to help someone who needs it, even if that someone is a former enemy turned – whatever it is they are, after the Angel summoning the other week. And his eyes are undeniably drawn to Alec’s trembling form, as Jace and Isabelle lay him down on the couch.
He has a vague memory of another man on this couch, years ago – Luke, with Clary hovering and—
It slips away.
“What happened?” he asks.
“He was wounded by a Pervious demon a while ago,” Isabelle answers, nervously pulling at her hair as she turns away from her brother and looks at Magnus.
Magnus’ stomach drops. “There’s no cure for that,” he says. “Their venom spreads through the body until it’s destroyed all of the organs.”
“We know, but Catarina said… She slowed it down, he was supposed to have more time. But he’s been like this for three days, and we can’t reach her.”
“Catarina Loss healed him?” Magnus frowns. “Why—”
“She’s Alec’s friend,” Jace says coolly.
Magnus files that away for later, coming closer to Alec to take a good look at him. He doesn’t look good. His face is pale, bordering on gray-toned, and he’s sweating profusely. He’s restless, in the throes of a high fever. “She’s held up at the Spiral Labyrinth,” Magnus says. “I’m not a healer.”
“We didn’t know who else to go to,” Isabelle breathes.
Magnus runs his hand over Alec’s body, letting his magic confirm that the venom has spread through his nervous system, and his organs are failing. Magnus swallows. There’s nothing left to save. It’s too late.
Unless…
He eyes the prominent rune on Alec’s neck, then Jace, with his pure angel blood. The power Magnus recently inherited is the power of a fallen angel. Here on the Earth plane…
There are very few limits to what it could do. Magnus isn’t used to the idea yet, and he’s more than a little scared of what it means, what it would be like in the wrong hands, but it’s a truth he will have to face.
Maybe Alec is already too far gone, but if there’s anything in the world that could help him now, it’s Asmodeus’ power. And if it gives Magnus a little more time to understand why his throat knots up and his eyes tear up at the thought of Alec dying, then it’s for the best.
“I can’t promise anything, but I will try to help,” he says slowly, stepping back. “He’s very ill, and it’s probably too late already, but maybe I can...give you some more time, at least.”
He doesn’t have to like the Lightwoods for the sliver of hope mixed with despair on their face to be heartbreaking. Isabelle immediately thanks him. Jace takes Alec’s hand in his own like it’s a lifeline. They’re not ready to let their brother go.
And Maryse… She looks vulnerable, more than Magnus has ever seen her before. This isn’t the high-and-mighty Shadowhunter who once stood opposite him on a battlefield. Her neck is strangely bare of runes, and she looks small, defeated.
But she’s still Maryse Lightwood.
“I don’t want this woman in my apartment,” Magnus points at her.
Maryse straightens up a little. “Magnus, I know we have history, but he’s my son.”
“Mom, it’s okay,” Isabelle gently takes her arm. “You need to go take care of Max. We’ll take care of Alec. It will be okay.”
Maryse hesitates, her pleading look going from Isabelle to Alec on the couch, and finally to Magnus. Magnus gives her a hard stare back.
“Okay,” she murmurs. She takes a step forward, and Magnus stops her with a raised hand. “Magnus—” she starts.
“That’s Warlock Bane for you,” Magnus growls.
Maryse flinches, despite Isabelle’s hand still on her arm. “Warlock Bane,” she corrects herself, her voice almost breaking on the last word. “Please let me say goodbye to my son.”
Magnus hesitates, his skin crawling at letting someone like Maryse Lightwood into his lair, but he relents. He knows too well the pain of loss, and the loss of a child must be… Even he can feel some compassion for her.
She kneels down by Alec’s side and brushes his hair off his sweaty brow. “Alec.”
Alec stirs a little in his delirium, half-opening his eyes. “Mom?”
“I love you,” Maryse murmurs, leaning down to kiss his forehead.
She stands back up, staring down at him with her back to Magnus and her other children for a moment. When she turns around, there are tears running down her face. “I know my pleading won’t mean much to you,” she tells Magnus, her voice raw. “But please save my boy.”
“I will do my best,” Magnus promises. “But I won’t do it for you.”
Maryse nods and flees the room, only stopping to squeeze her children’s hands. Even with the door closed behind her, there’s no mistaking the sound of her sobs, and Magnus swallows bile.
“No Robert?” he asks.
Jace makes a pained grimace. Isabelle looks away, tears in her eyes, and Magnus can see that he touched a sore point.
“He died five months ago,” Jace says. “In Alicante, at the same time as Alec got hurt.”
Magnus just nods and kneels by Alec, who turns half-lidded eyes to him. “Ma’nus,” he murmurs. There’s a desperate relief in his eyes, and he seeks out Magnus’ hand, Magnus only hesitates minutely before he squeezes Alec’s hand in his.
“Tell me more about what happened,” he says.
“He was poisoned through a deep cut in his side,” Jace says, not letting go of Alec’s other hand. It makes their positions awkward, so Jace moves to the side of the couch, at Alec’s head. “It spread rapidly, but we got him to the hospital just in time. Thankfully Catarina was there and she slowed its progression. She did some kind of ritual to keep it contained, but she said it would keep leaking until—” he chokes on his words, making a helpless gesture with his free hand. From up close, he looks terrible. He has dark circles under his eyes, and a slight sheen to his brow that tells Magnus that he’s probably running a low fever himself.
“He’s been having bouts of fever,” Isabelle takes over, standing behind Jace. “He’s in a lot of pain, but it’s hard to tell if it’s only from the venom, because his hip is bad too.”
“And the fever hasn’t come down?”
“Not in a little over three days. Catarina gave him a year, but I think the angel summoning made it go faster. That’s when he really started to get worse.”
Magnus nods and slips his hand out of Alec’s. He gathers a magical probe into his hand and runs it over Alec’s body once more, deeper this time.
“If we leave him like this, I’m not sure he’ll make it through the night,” he murmurs, standing back up. “I don’t know if I can do anything more than contain the venom again, and even if I manage it, there a chance that his organs won’t be able to take the shock,” he warns.
“Do it,” Jace says. “We’ve got nothing to lose.”
“It will be extremely painful for him. And there’s no guarantee that it will help.”
“Please, Magnus,” Isabelle says. “We’ll pay anything you want.”
“It’s not about the money, not when it comes to saving a life,” Magnus shakes his head. “Though I’ll be sure to send my bill. But you need to be certain that this isn’t just prolonging his suffering. That this is what he would want. I don’t think he’s lucid enough to make the decision himself.”
Isabelle nods to Jace, still prostrate over Alec’s trembling body. “Jace is his parabatai,” she murmurs. “Their souls are connected, and Jace already lost Clary. I fear if we lose Alec, we’ll lose them both.” She swallows a sob. “Please just try.”
“Alright,” Magnus nods.
He kneels by the couch again and takes a moment to center himself. He can’t afford for his father’s magic – his magic, now – to spin out of control. Magnus has been testing it, step by step, but he knows he’s not ready for such a large expenditure. It could go horribly wrong.
He doesn’t think he could get Jace and Isabelle away if he tried, whatever the risks. He’ll just have to make sure that if he destroys something, it’s only furniture.
He focuses on his magical core for a while, doing what he can to prepare himself. When he opens his eyes, neither Isabelle nor Jace have moved.
“I’m going to need your strength,” Magnus tells Jace on a hunch. It’s not strictly true, but Jace’s connection to Alec could make things smoother, and serve as an anchor. And it will give Jace something to do other than wait and pace. “Isabelle, you better make yourself comfortable. It’s going to take a while.”
Isabelle bends down to stroke Alec’s cheek, her lips moving as if she’s praying. “Hang on, big brother,” she murmurs. “Just a little longer.”
Alec is too far gone to even acknowledge her. He’s shaking violently, his teeth chattering despite the fact that his skin is far too hot to the touch. He lets out low moans of pain every few moments, curling in on himself further.
Jace offers Magnus his hand, palm wide open. Magnus nods at him gravely and takes it, placing his other hand on Alec’s chest. Isabelle steps back, curling up in one of the armchairs to wait.
“Let’s do this,” Magnus murmurs to himself.
He doesn’t draw strength from Jace right away. He starts slow, searching for the edges of Alec, of the spread of the venom inside him. It’s a magical venom, coursing through his nervous system rather than his blood, and it’s everywhere. For the first few minutes, Magnus can barely find where it ends and where Alec begins.
He pushes it back, slowly. He prods at the magical signature of the demon and pushes until it recoils away from him. Alec’s body arches on the couch, and he cries out, while Jace lets out a groan of pain. Magnus barely lets them recover before he pushes again.
It’s a long process. Alec’s whole body is overrun by the venom, and Magnus is honestly impressed that he’s held on for so long. He should be dead already, by all rights. Magnus wonders if he hung on by pure willpower and if so, why. Was he thinking of Jace, of Isabelle in his fever? Of his mother?
Of someone else?
Magnus feels himself sagging. The process of cleaning up every inch of Alec’s body is exhausting, and his own physical body is feeling the strain. He struggles to keep himself up and leans on Alec’s body, until he feels a strong physical presence anchoring him. Jace.
“Take my strength,” Jace urges.
“Thank you,” Magnus murmurs, drawing some energy from Jace to keep his head up. He opens his eyes briefly. Jace has moved to kneel behind him and support him, though he still has one hand on Alec. He has tears of pain running down his cheeks, but his expression is steely, determined.
Magnus’ magic is far from depleted, the expenditure barely making a dent – once, it would have been the end of his reserves – but his body is still half-human. The magic that courses through him, using him as a vessel, takes a toll.
Magnus leans back against Jace, allowing himself one deep breath before he goes at it again. But this time, it feels different. Jace’s strength leads him in, connected to Alec in a deeper way than Magnus anticipated. He knows little about the parabatai bond. It’s a soul bond, but it has a physical component, Magnus can feel it.
Of course – the rune. The runes all over Alec’s body. Magnus can use them. He can wield angelic power, so he can use the runes to strengthen Alec’s body as he works.
“Isabelle,” he calls.
Isabelle is kneeling at his side in a fraction of a second. “What can I do?”
“Activate his healing rune. As many times as you can.”
“It will be stronger if Jace does it,” Isabelle says.
Magnus focuses on Jace briefly. The pull on his energy is clearly making him lethargic, and he blinks like he’s struggling to follow their words. “Then help him,” he tells Isabelle.
He tunes them out as Isabelle puts a stele in Jace’s hand and uncovers Alec’s stomach. He can feel the healing rune – iratze, was it? – working as soon as it’s activated, sending a pulse of magic through Alec’s body. Magnus rides on its wave, going in deeper.
He’s fairly sure it takes hours before he can actually reach Alec. His soul, the part of him that’s still trying to fight back.
Alec’s angelic core is weak, too weak. It’s barely pulsing. Magnus tightens his hand on Jace’s and follows the parabatai bond straight into Alec’s soul. Unlike any mundane venom, the demon venom has its claws there, too, ripping it bit by bit until there’s nothing left. Magnus isn’t sure that there is still time to save it. And while Alec’s body will die if the venom reaches his heart, a crisis that Magnus has at least averted for now, Alec’s soul is just as necessary for his survival.
Magnus begins the tedious and taxing work of removing the venom. He coils himself tightly around Jace’s part of the soul, that’s still open and untainted. That’s what Alec is protecting so hard, Magnus thinks. His brother. The rest of Alec’s soul is wispy, barely there.
Alec trembles all the way, muttering unintelligibly. His face is scrunched up in pain, and Magnus can feel the tension in his body.
Magnus hacks away at the venom tendrils. The first time his magic fully touches Alec’s soul, the part that’s only him, he’s almost ejected out in surprise. Maybe partly fusing with Jace is what takes him this far. He sees flashes – memories.
It’s just Alec and Jace, at first. Entreat me not to leave thee, or to return from following after thee. The foundation of their soul bond. Magnus sees them as teenagers, taking the oath to always be there for each other. Then again as adults, Jace murmuring the words over a feverish, ill Alec – is that recent? Magnus glimpses other people, but the memory only lasts a second in his mind. It’s not his to keep.
Magnus frees Alec’s soul from another trail of venom. Isabelle jumps out at him, hugging her brother tight, training with him, sleeping in his bed at night, curled up against him. Alec’s love for her is self-evident, permeating every moment of the memories.
Magnus wants to pull out. These memories aren’t for him to peek at. He’s a skilled mind traveler, and he’s even dabbled in mnemopsionics, but he knows how dangerous this branch of magic is. Who knows where Clary would be now if Magnus had never messed with her mind?
Besides, that’s not what he’s here for. He just needs to focus on the venom.
But Alec’s soul doesn’t let him. Magnus pulls harder at the venom tendrils, with a desperation born out of exhaustion, and finds himself yanked back inside Alec’s mind.
He’s in Pandemonium, staring across the room at an Alec with a bow in his hand.
He’s in his loft and standing over a pentagram, an electric jolt going through his body as he links hands with Alec.
He’s kneeling in his living room, pulling energy from the hand in his, stumbling back against Alec’s lean and muscular body, exhausted.
He’s holding up his glass and toasting with Alec, whispering words, flirting.
He’s watching Alec train, shirtless, swallowing back his desire and trying to find the words to say how much he wants him.
He’s standing in a corridor, hurt and heartbroken, Alec turning his back on him.
He’s storming into a wedding, and Alec is striding toward him, kissing him—
No.
Back up.
Just like that, he’s back into his own body. The shockwave sends him backwards against Jace, who only avoids hitting his head on the edge of the coffee table thanks to his Shadowhunter reflexes. Magnus breathes hard under Isabelle’s concerned gaze, as she hands him a glass of water.
“Sorry,” he says. “I’m almost there.”
But he can’t go back in there. What were those memories? Memories of him in Alec’s mind, and his love, his deep, untouchable love that’s not supposed to be there because there are no matching memories in Magnus’ mind. When did this happen?
Magnus’ thoughts stray toward the box on his nightstand. Memories. Memories he’s erased, that are still in other people’s minds. Jace and Isabelle’s familiarity with him, Alec’s—
He erased them for a reason, he reminds himself. But his heart tells a different story. It yearns for Alec so much it hurts.
“Can you save him?” Isabelle asks quietly.
Magnus swallows several times, the water failing to erase the taste of bile. “I’ve almost contained the venom,” he explains. “But that won’t save him. It will give him another few months, maybe, until he’s back in the same place.”
Isabelle hangs her head, and Magnus’ heart constricts even more. He can’t let Alec die. Not now, not in a year. If it’s in his power to save him…
It might be. No one has ever been cured of Pervious poisoning before, but there’s a first for everything.
“I’m going to try to overwhelm the venom with my magic,” he says. “But it’s going to be dangerous. It could kill us both, and you with us. You should get out, come back when I’m done.”
Isabelle and Jace visibly hesitate. “Are you sure?” Jace asks. He’s still weak, swaying a little where he kneels. Magnus doesn’t feel much better.
“At the very least, Alec wouldn’t want you to risk your life needlessly. Go. I’ll call you as soon as it’s done.” If it goes well, is the unspoken subtext.
“Alright,” Jace murmurs.
Isabelle supports him as he stands up. They both touch Alec lightly before they turn away and leave.
Magnus observes Alec for a moment. He looks better. He’s still sweaty and feverish, but his skin has lost the gray undertone, and it’s flushed instead. Magnus takes his clammy hand in his own.
So Alec was, as he was starting to suspect, the lover Magnus erased from his memories. The one who broke his heart so badly that Magnus couldn’t stand to remember it.
What is he supposed to do now? Now that he knows? He can pretend that he doesn’t know, but that wouldn’t be fair to either of them. He knows how it started, but not how it ended. What could have been so awful that Magnus chose to erase all trace of him from his life?
Or did he fall in love so deeply that the breakup itself, the simple thought of living without Alec, was unthinkable?
There’s only one thing clear in his mind: he needs to save Alec. He can’t stand the thought of him dying.
Magnus hangs on to that thought as he throws himself into Alec’s core again, ripping apart the contained venom with all his power. He breezes past his former limits, where he would once have collapsed from magical depletion, and keeps going, deeper and deeper. The venom is not sentient, but it resists all the same, deeply entrenched into Alec’s body and core. It’s woven in with his angelic magic, where no demon energy should ever reach. It won’t just leave. It can’t.
Magnus gathers his magic into his fingertips, now resting on each side of Alec’s neck, and pushes. It’s the strongest magic he’s ever yielded, the full force of his father’s fallen angel magic. It sweeps into Alec, and for a moment, Magnus is afraid that it will overwhelm not just the venomous energy but also Alec’s core. But it doesn’t. Instead, it coils around Alec like a cat, filling the wounds left behind by the venom.
Alec’s mouth opens in a silent scream, and he seizes, his body arching and his head hitting the arm rest of the couch repeatedly. But the venom has finally released its hold.
Magnus collapses against Alec, spent. He uses the last of his energy to check that Alec is breathing properly and to text Isabelle to come back, then he lets himself slide down to the floor.
His work is done.
*
Magnus comes to with a pillow under his head and a blanket over his shoulders. He’s still lying between the coffee table and the couch, the rug barely providing a buffer between his body and the hard wood floor, but someone’s been here to take care of him.
“We didn’t know if we should move you,” comes a voice.
Magnus hoists himself up onto his elbow, with some effort. Isabelle is sitting in one of the armchairs on the other side of the coffee table, looking at him curiously.
“How long has it been?” he asks. He sits up fully, finding himself face to face with Alec, who is still sleeping – unconscious? – on the couch.
“About two hours since you texted me,” Isabelle answers. “We tried to wake you up, but you wouldn’t move. Alec seemed better, so we decided to wait.”
Magnus doesn’t try to check on Alec magically – he probably couldn’t light a fire right now if he wanted to. “The venom is all gone,” he says. “He’s probably going to need a lot of rest for a while as his body recovers, but he’ll live.”
Isabelle gapes at him. Her face morphs into a slow smile as she processes it. “Magnus, that’s incredible! You did it! Jace! Alec is going to be okay!”
She plops down from her armchair and crawls around the table to hug Magnus, who is too stunned to stop her. “Thank you,” she whispers in his ear. “Thank you so much.”
“You fixed him?” Jace asks, coming from the kitchen. He has a tea pot in one hand and a bunch of mugs in the other.
Magnus nods in confirmation. Jace calmly puts down what he has in his hands on the coffee table before he lets himself drop onto an armchair, staring at Alec, almost in shock.
“Thank the Angel,” he murmurs, tears welling up in his eyes in relief.
“In this case, thank the demon,” Magnus says as Isabelle helps him up and into the other armchair. She sits down on the corner of the table.
“You used Asmodeus’ power, didn’t you?” Isabelle asks. “Your father.”
Magnus starts. “How do you know he’s my father?” He doesn’t tell that to just anyone. In fact, the only people who know have been his friends for a long time. How does a Shadowhunter—
“You told me yourself, Magnus,” Isabelle sighs. “A few months after you told Alec.”
Magnus closes his eyes. If she’s telling the truth, then whatever memories are in the box are worse than he thought.
Or maybe they’re exactly what he thinks they are, and he just doesn’t want to admit it to himself. The heartbreak would have had to be agony for him to decide to erase his memories. Camille-level of agony. No, worse: he never erased Camille from his memories.
And Alec was at the center of it. Was he abusive? Did he hurt Magnus so badly that remembering it was unbearable?
Magnus looks at him, vulnerable in his sleep, his face still lined with pain. It seems impossible. But it happened. It must have.
Magnus shakes the thought out of his head. “Yes, I used my father’s power. I inherited it when he died.”
Jace nods. “We saw it happen,” he says in a low voice. “We didn’t know then that you’d—erased your memories.”
“You saw it?” Magnus frowns. “Tell me what happened in Alicante.”
He knew – he felt – that a major magical event happened in Alicante that day, that coincided with his father’s death, but no one has been able to tell him what, exactly. Idris is closed to Downworlder, and even the Spiral Labyrinth researchers aren’t good enough to see through its wards.
“Jonathan – that’s Valentine’s son – opened a rift into Edom, just over Alicante,” Isabelle starts. “The sheer number of demons overrode the demon towers quickly and we couldn’t do anything. There were too many to fight off. Then Lilith came through.”
“Lilith,” Magnus murmurs to himself.
“We thought it was over,” Isabelle says. “We saw Dad go down trying to protect Max. Our little brother,” she explains at Magnus’ confusion, with another of her sad looks. “He’s okay, he got to us eventually, but Dad—” she makes an aborted gesture, swallowing. “Lilith was ready to destroy everything, but she was stopped.”
“By Asmodeus,” Magnus breathes, the pieces of the puzzle coming together in his head. “They’ve been rivals for forever. He was already on this plane... Of course he would see it as an occasion to finally get rid of her.”
“Yes,” Isabelle confirms. “They fought over Alicante for a while. It was...terrifying. We were just running for cover as they destroyed building after building, and it was still swarming with lesser demons. Alec must have gotten bitten at some point, but we didn’t realize it.”
“How did it end?” Magnus asks.
“They obliterated each other,” Isabelle says. “When their powers met on this plane, it didn’t just kill them and send them back to Edom, it made them stop existing entirely. And since your father was King of Edom and it was tied to him somehow, it imploded in the process. The blast took out a whole chunk of Alicante and killed everything in its path.”
“How did you make it out?”
“Clary,” Isabelle says. “She has—she had a special ability thanks to her angel blood, she could create new runes. She made up a shield rune so powerful that it protected all of us. But Alec was weakening and he was a bit too slow to get to cover. He wasn’t entirely behind the shield and his leg was shattered. It’s more than what iratzes and Catarina’s magic could heal.”
Magnus nods. “I saw he was struggling to walk. That requires delicate healing rather than brute force magical strength, so I’m afraid I can’t help with that. If Catarina couldn’t do anything, I won’t be of any use.”
“You did so much already,” Isabelle shakes her head. “You saved his life. We thought—” her voice breaks.
Magnus reaches out to squeeze her arm. “The last few months must have been hell for all of you,” he says sympathetically.
“You have no idea,” Jace mutters. There’s more than a little resentment in his voice, but Magnus chooses to ignore it.
“Ma’nus?”
Magnus starts and looks over at Alec, who is stirring, weakly searching around with his hand. His breathing has picked up, and he’s frowning in pain. Isabelle, who is the closest, gives Magnus a look and catches Alec’s hand in her own. “Alec, it’s Izzy. Open your eyes for me.”
Alec seems to struggle for a moment, then his eyes open a fraction. He looks around the room blearily, settling first on Isabelle, then on Jace, and finally on Magnus. “Ma’nus,” he repeats, the word slurred but unmistakable.
Magnus makes an aborted move to stand up, but Jace stops him with a glare. “Don’t give him hope he doesn’t need,” he says through his teeth. Magnus swallows and relents with a gesture.
Isabelle looks torn, and she bites her lip as she turns back to Alec. “We’re all here,” she says. “Magnus healed you. Now I need you to wake up properly so we can celebrate.”
Alec chuckles, though he’s obviously confused. “’kay,” he murmurs. He closes his eyes again and his breathing evens out, though the lines of pain remain on his face.
“The pain will fade with time,” Magnus says, trying to reassure the Shadowhunters. “At least the one from the venom,” he adds, remembering Alec’s other injuries.
“We’ll get back to the Institute as soon as he’s awake enough to move,” Jace says. “We’re truly grateful, Magnus, but we won’t take any more of your time.”
Magnus shakes his head. “I’m not throwing you out.”
“Maybe not, but I don’t think staying here is good for Alec. We only brought him here because we were out of options.”
“And I’m glad you did,” Magnus says.
“But we can’t stay. He’s...vulnerable, right now.”
“You think I’d take advantage of him?”
Isabelle winces. Jace sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “No offense, Magnus, but you made your choice. Maybe it was to protect yourself, but we need to do our job and protect Alec. And right now that means keeping him away from here. From you.”
Magnus stands up forcefully, overwhelmed by the need to go. To be alone with his thoughts long enough to figure this out. He hasn’t processed the things he saw in Alec’s mind, or the feelings that keep arising in him every time he looks at Alec. He doesn’t know what to do with the near-hostile guardedness in Jace’s posture, the sorrow in Isabelle’s eyes. He doesn’t know what he did – or didn’t do – to deserve them, only that they know more than him about his own life, and his entire being is screaming that it’s not safe.
He flees to the kitchen, where he spends several minutes riding out a near panic attack.
What is he going to do now? Now that he knows something of the memories he’s missing, something more than whatever his mind could conjure to fill the holes and the little Catarina deigned to tell him, how can he go back to normal? He was doing just fine, before these damn Shadowhunters barged into life!
No, that’s not true. Magnus may be an expert at deceiving other people, but he doesn’t lie to himself. Or at least he didn’t use to – he feels like he’s been doing it a lot, recently. He’s not doing well. He’s going through the motions, but nothing in his life feels complete, feels right. He knows what depression looks like.
Can he pretend that he doesn’t crave whatever memories are in that box? The brain isn’t made to suddenly lose a part of itself like this. The neural pathways that have ruled Magnus’ emotions for however many years he erased are still here, and he doesn’t know how to fulfill them anymore. He’s physically and mentally craving something that isn’t there.
Maybe that’s why the glimpses he got from Alec’s mind have left him shaking and yearning.
Yes. It’s all a physical reaction from his brain. It’s an addiction. He just needs to treat it like any other addiction: wean himself off. Stay away.
That means staying away from Alec. At least he can agree with Jace on that. However much it will hurt, Magnus needs to remove himself from this situation.
When he walks back into the living room, hiding his trembling hands behind his back, Alec is awake and mostly alert. He’s sat up partially on the couch, propped up on the arm rest, and Isabelle is quietly talking to him. The tea has finally been served, and the three siblings are each holding a steaming mug, a fourth one awaiting Magnus on the table.
“Magnus,” Alec says when Magnus gingerly sits back down in his armchair. His voice is stronger than before, and his tone is no longer hopeful and confused, but pained. “Thank you, for saving my life. We owe you a debt beyond what we could pay you in money.”
Magnus takes his mug in his hand, trying to draw comfort from the warmth. “You don’t,” he says. “I was glad to help. And…I don’t know exactly what we...what happened between us that I’m missing, but it would be better for everyone not to keep score, wouldn’t it?”
Isabelle chokes on her tea. Alec just looks infinitely sad. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Whatever you want, Magnus.”
“Drink your tea,” Magnus says, feeling guilty for no reason he can understand. “Then I’ll make you a portal to your Institute.”
Alec nods. “Thank you.”
Playfully, Magnus leans over the coffee table to clink his mug with Alec. Alec meets his eyes and swallows. “To us,” he murmurs.
Magnus tilts his head, the words echoing strangely in his mind. “To us,” he repeats.
Alec looks away, letting out a small wounded sound. Magnus retreats, trying to give him space. He doesn’t know what he did wrong, but it obviously has to do with the memories he’s missing. Besides, he promised himself to detach himself, and he’s already getting too close again.
They sip their tea in silence, until Alec gives some kind of invisible signal and Jace hoists him to his feet. Magnus doesn’t say a word, a knot in his throat, as he throws open a portal and stands aside to let them through.
He already feels bereft, before the portal is even closed.
28 notes · View notes
agentofscifi · 5 years ago
Text
 Success is the Best Kind of Revenge
I didn’t want to feel smug, I really didn’t, but I just couldn’t help the pin prick of smugness. My entire classes sat around, horribly disappointed in our Lycée classroom. Many of them had gotten responses for Universities jobs, and internships over the winter semester. They hadn’t turned out well. 
Alya had applied to a job at a newspaper, applied to three internships and sent four university applications out. She lost every one of them. Nino hadn’t gotten his internship either nor did he get into the music school he wanted. Kim had a scholarship and college acceptance revoked, and the two other Universities who had been offering swimming scholarships pulled their offers back too. Ivan and Myléne had both been under investigation over the break for charity fraud. Though they were cleared, no other charities wanted their help and their university had pulled their acceptance out. 
Rose’s eyes were still red and raw looking. Prince Ali had cut all contact with Rose and she was denied from her music schools. All of Max’s scholarships and every since school he applied to, all fourteen of them, pulled back their acceptance. Nathaniel’s comic strip was no longer being printed and there was a pending copyright suit. Sabrina was under investigation too, for theft, breaking and entering as well as illegal photography. Her university denied her as well. She assisted Lila and Alya in harassing me over the past few years. Adrien was sitting in his seat, a numb sort of look over his face as Nino patted his shoulder. Lila, however, was the only happy one in the class. She had a firm grip on Adrien’s arm as she chatted to an unset Alya about how she helped catch Hawkmoth with Ladybug. 
The only reason I knew all of this was because of their parents. Despite their children no longer speaking to me, my classmates' parents and siblings were still in good relations with my family. Their parents had described their disappointment and confusion to my parents after all of the university issues. 
I was sitting in the back with a sad looking Juleka, an annoyed Alix and an over smug Chloe. A weird sort of girl group that formed as the rest of the class refused to grow up. I wanted to feel bad, I really did, but honestly, they made their own graves. I tried to warn them, I tried to keep them from this. They choose the fool’s gold. 
Alix, Chloe and Juleka came to the light. Chloe figured it out the quickest, many of Lila’s lies had holes in them. Chloe saw the holes quite easily. Juleka became wary of Lila after Luka met her. Apparently, Lila’s inner song is like nails on chalkboards and dying kittens. As for Alix, she had asked Lila about the Rabbit Miraculous only for Lila to tell her that it was wielded by a man in the future. Either way, they all saw what was really going on. 
Mrs. Bustier walks into the room just as the bell rings, a large smile on her face. “Hello everyone. I hope you had a good break. Did everyone do their homework?” Most of the classmates looked down at those words. Our winter break homework, making a list of options for after Lycée this year. Normally we’d have private meetings about all of this today, while the rest of us worked in the library. Mrs. Bustier decided that our class would share our options with everyone else. 
“Well, would anyone like to start? Alya?” Mrs. Bustier gives a big smile to my former best friend. 
Alya’s face pales and she mumbles for a second before clearing her throat. “I, ahh. I’ve decided to take a year off, to do a year of work. There’s a grocery store that has some openings for me and the Zoo where my Dad works is hiring summer people for the gift shop and concessions.”
Mrs. Bustier’s smile drops. “Alya, what about your internships at the newspaper, or the one at TVi?”
Alya looks down. “I didn’t get them.”
“What about Goldsmith University in London? Or Cardiff University? Of the University of Amsterdam? Or ESJ Paris? You were looking forward to all of the programs these schools offered.”
Alya’s hand on the desk clenches. “I didn’t get in.”
Mrs. Bustier’s smile was completely gone now. “What?”
“All four Universities denied me. I didn't get into any of them.”
“Oh.” Mrs. Bustier blushes a deep red and looks around to the room before settling on me. She nudges her head towards Alya, telling me to comfort my classmate. 
I raise an eyebrow at her, causing her blush to deepen. She did that everytime I reminded her, either subtly or not, that she couldn’t put all of her responsibilities onto a child. Regardless, I spoke up. I really did feel some pity for the class. “I’m sorry about that Alya. Try again next year. A job or something might help boost your application.”
Alya whips around and glares at me. “I don’t need your pity! I’ll be fine! Unlike you, you’ll just be a nobody. I bet not a single University in the whole world wanted you!” I sigh and glance over at Mrs. Bustier. She remained silent as Alya rips into me. Typical. 
Chloe lets out a small laugh. “You’re one to talk.”
Alya’s face heats up again and Mrs. Bustier finally cleared her throat. “Well, let’s move on. Nino, what about you? What about that school in America?”
Nino rubs the back of his head. “I, uh. I heard back. They don’t think I’m ready to start at Musicians Institute in Los Angeles. I didn’t get the internship either, the one in Hollywood. My parents are letting me keep my DJ work up next year, but I have to find a job.”
Mrs. Bustier’s smile is obviously forced now. She’d spent the whole break bragging about her classmates on social media and in an interview. So far, the class was not doing so well. “Rose? How about you? What music school are you going to?”
Rose immediately starts to tear up. “None of them! Julliad didn’t want me! Neither did the Royal Academy of Music or Royal College of Music in London. They said my music wasn’t good enough!” 
Rose was just about sobbing at this point in front of me. Juleka looks even more sad and I agreed with her. Rose’s lyrics were actually pretty good, until Lila got a hold of her. Now the music was less inspiring and unique. 
Mrs. Bustier looks up at me. A desperate plea in her eyes. I look away almost instantly, pulling out a small thing of tissues. I pass them over to Rose’s shoulder, getting a soft thank you in response. Juleka pulls out her phone and starts to text. More than likely offering a shoulder for Rose to cry on after class. 
Mrs. Bustier fumbles with her hands for a minute, looking around the class. “Sabrina, what about you? Do you still want that social justice degree?”
Sabrina drops her head into her arms. “No. I’m not going to University next year. My father wants me to stay in Paris with him until next year. He’s...worried about me.”
Mrs. Bustier’s eyes are a little more frantic now. “Myléne! Ivan! How about you two? Where do you hope to go to University next year?”
Myléne sinks in her seat. Ivan glances around the room like he’s hoping someone will help. No one does. “We’re ah, taking a year off too. Our summer volunteer trip in Africa fell through also. So, we’re sticking around for a while. Looking at our options.” Myléne nods. 
“Oh, good for you.” Mrs. Bustier looks around the room again. She avoided us. No surprise. Unlike the rest of the class, we really didn’t get much time to discuss our future with Mrs. Bustier. She seemed to be focusing on the students she believed would be going somewhere. “Kim! How about that swimming scholarship?”
Kim flushes red too. “I uh. I’m not going to be swimming in the fall. I’m thinking about some basic classes at a local university.”
“What about the scholarship?”
Kim’s eyes darted around, briefly looking at me, before continuing on. “I lost it. There were some issues, I didn’t qualify anymore.”
“Nathaniel! What about you? Did your new comic strip kick off?”
Nathenial’s head drops to his desk and he moans. The whole class stares in shock. Nathenial shakes his head on the desk, another moan emitting from below the red hair. 
“Max!” There’s a look of comfort in Mrs. Bustier. Her smartest pupil would come through, wouldn’t he. “How about you?”
“I got denied. All fourteen schools denied me!” Max had a slight crazed look in his eyes. As I looked closer I could see how unkempt me was. His suspenders were a little askew, his hair wasn’t quite as controlled as usual, and his glasses weren’t straight. “Me, the kid who made an AI was denied from MIT, Stanford, Cambridge, Oxford, Harvard, Berkeley, University of Tokyo, ETH Zürich, California’s Institute of Technology, Technical University of Munich, École Polytechnique Fédérale de Lausanne, Nanyang Technological University, Princeton, and Grenoble Institute of Technology. All of my scholarships, gone!” A hysterical laugh rips through Max as he sits in his seat. 
Mrs. Bustier franic look was back as she scanned the room once more. She briefly looks up at the four of us then shakes her head. Alix rolls her eyes from across the row. Obviously Mrs. Bustier thought we’d all be failors too. Instead, she looks at Adrien and Lila. 
“Adrien, what about you? Any University plans?”
Adrien’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “I’m moving in with my Aunt. I plan to teach piano to some kids in the fall. I have some… stuff to do with my father’s company this summer. I don’t think I’ll be going to a University anytime soon.”
“Lila!” Mrs. Bustier’s voice is high and cracking. “What about you? Still doing charity work? Going to University?”
Lila gives a huge smile to the whole class. “Yes. I’ll be working in Achu for a little bit this summer. I got into a few schools in the U.S, France, England and in Italy. I’m not sure where I want to study yet, but I’m sure I’ll be the next best thing in Fashion. Opps!” Lila looks up at me. “I’m sorry Marinette! I didn’t mean to offend you.”
I give a small, fake smile. “Don’t worry Lila. It’s fine. Maybe I’ll see you next year? What schools did you get into?”
Lila’s fasade drops slightly. “I, uh. Parson’s in New York, and um, Central Saint Martins in London, and um Accademia Costume e Moda in Rome. I decided to go to Central Saint Martins.”
“Impressive. I didn’t send anything to the Accademia in Rome, but I’m happy to see someone else got into Parson’s and Saint Martins.” My smile is a little sharp. I could afford to fake my congratulations when I knew that Lila’s tower was about to collapse underneath her. 
“Marinette, you got into Parson’s and Saint Martins?” Mrs. Bustier’s smile was back and slightly crazed. “Which one of those will you be going to?”
“Neither. I did get into Parsons school of design in New York, as well as Central Saint Martin’s in London, but I’m not going to either of those.”
“What school will you be going to?” Mrs. Bustier’s eyebrows are furrowed. 
“The London College of Fashion. I got into ESMOD in Paris, Istituto Marangoni International in Milan, as well as Parson’s School of Design and Central Saint Martins. I thought about staying in Paris, but I just wanted a little distance. You know, spread my wings.  I didn’t feel like going to New York either. It’s pretty far away. I almost agreed to go to the school in Milan, but I think I’m going to hold off on that school until I go to get a Master’s Degree. So, it was between London College of Fashion and Saint Martins and I just liked the London College more.” 
“Oh, that’s fantastic Marinette!” Mrs. Bustier’s enthusiasm returns in full swing. 
Alya snort ruins the moment. “If she’s even telling the truth.”
Lila blinks and then looks back up at me. “Yah, that’s true. How do we know you’re not lying. You’ve been doing that alot the last four years.”
Mrs. Bustier smile turns into a frown and she instead gives a glare meant for a child. “It’s not nice to lie, Marinette.”
A smirk earns its way onto my face. “I’m not lying. I don’t care if you believe me or not, but I’m not lying. I’ll be in London, come Fall, studying to be a world class fashion designer.”
Alya snorts again. Mrs. Bustier gives me an exasperated look, but freezes as she meets my gaze. Any sort of appreciation or respect for my teacher was gone, replaced by annoyance and I hold Mrs. Bustier’s gaze for over a full minute, causing the woman to fidget. 
Chloe finally nudges me and clears her throat. “Well, I finally decided where I’ll be going in the fall. I even have a roommate picked out.” She nudges me with a smile. 
“No way you’re going to University.” Alya’s teeth are bare as she all but growls at Chloe. “Who would want you?”
Chloe shrugs. “Oh, you know. Harvard, Stanford, Cambridge, Oxford, INSEAD, Bocconi University, and the London Business School. I’m going to the London Business School. It’s ranked third in the world for Business studies. The only places above it are Harvard and INSEAD, but I don’t want to move all the way to America quite yet and I was not staying in a town less than an hour from you all.”
The whole class looks at Chloe in surprise. That was something they never realized. Chloe didn’t put work in when she was younger because she didn’t have to. Everything was given to her until Lycée when our teachers finally started to push Chloe. Now, she was a budding business woman already helping me with my MDC company. 
“No way!” Max looks up at Chloe. Anger in his eyes. “How did you get in and not me?”
Chlor rolls her eyes. “I’m fluent in French, English, Italian, Spanish, Mandarin, as well as Portugese. I have a 4.00 GPA and perfect grades in all my classes. I got all A* grades in my A level exams to get me into the Schools in London. I even took the ACT and SAT for the Universities in America. I got a 33 on the ACT and a 1520 on the SAT. I have been helping my Daddy with the hotel for over three years and I’ve had three different internships.”
The whole class is staring at Chloe. They wanted to argue, but Alix cuts them off first. “Well, if we’re done arguing about how Chloe got into top Universities. I’m attending Cambridge in the Fall, just like my Dad and brother. I’m also tagging along on a dig in China this summer. There’s this old temple the Louvre is investigating with several other museums and colleges.”
The class just stares at her, completely complex. Alix shrugs and looks at Juleka. “Juleka, your turn.”
Juleka pulls her hair back and clears her throat. “I’m attending Guildhall School of Music and Drama, in London. I’ll be studying music and production arts. I’ve also been signed to a modeling agency in London, so I'll be doing that too.”
“So, you’ll all be living together?” Myléne looks at us curiously. 
I shake my head. “No, Alix and Juleka will be living on Campus this year, in the dorms. Chloe and I will be sharing an apartment however. Our schools are only 30 minutes apart when walking.”
“We’ve already found a place. 4 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, and a large kitchen. Mari gave me the Master Bed and Bath so she could convert one of the extra bedrooms into a studio.”
Alya scoffs. “You doing anything else this summer?” She tries to sound strong, but it comes off a bit flat. 
“We’re all doing a Graduation trip to Italy, you know, because we couldn’t go on the class one. Juleka’s mom and Marinette’s Grandmother are chaperoning. We’ll be touring all of Italy over a month.” Alix gives the class a smile as someone knocks on the door. 
Mrs. Bustier gives us a small smile and goes to the door. There’s a gasp and Mrs. Bustier slowly backs up. There’s four police officers just outside the classroom door along with a small collection of people. Two of the people have a strong resemblance to Lila, and another person has an Italian look. Another three people all standing together, looking over the class. Principle Damocles is present as well, looking very pale. More people are filtering in and I realize it’s the parents of most of our classmates. Each set of parents comes and stands next to their child or sits on the bench with them. Juleka’s Mom gives me a little wave as she sits next to her daughter. 
Principle Damocles clears his throat. “Students, if I could have your attention please. There have been some... issues over the break that need to be addressed.”
Alya perks up. “Have you finally come to deal with Chloe and Marinette? They’ve been bullying poor Lila for years.”
“No.” One of the women who had been surveying the class turns to look at Alya. “We’re here for a variety of reasons. First of all, several students in this class are under investigation for a variety of charges. Second of all, almost every single one of you has ended being denied from every college you applied to. Lastly, We’re here to deal with the improper and naive mindsets that your Principal and Teacher have. Especially considering Ms. Rossi. Speaking of which.” The woman turns to Mrs. Bustier. “I’m not even going to touch your bluntly stupid way of dealing with bullies. That will be handled after all of this. Right now I’m going to ask why you threw every single rule about parental contact and special privileges out the window. You do not give students special privilege for medical conditions if they do not have doctors notes. You do not just ignore the fact that you can’t contact one of your students parents by anything but email. You don’t ignore when one of your students disappears willy nilly when every she feels like it.”
Mrs. Bustier opens and closes her mouth. “Who are you? I’ve been in contact with all of my students' parents.”
“I am Amelia Vaux, the Superintendent of Education in France. And no, you have not been in contact with all of your student’s parents. The email Lila Rossi gave you is an email she set up. Mrs. Rossi has never spoken to you, received an email or signed anything for the school. The woman is still operating under the assumption that your collége closed down for months at one point.”
“I, what?” Mrs. Bustier looks completely lost. 
“Lila Rossi gave you a fake email and a fake phone number for her Mother. Lila Rossi’s father is not asstrange, despite what she has been saying. Lila Rossi has a clean bill of health according to a doctor's visit over break. No tinnitus, no arthritis, no sprains, no breaks, no vision issues, no hearing issues at all. The worst thing she’s had was a bad case of influenza when she was 11. Of course, this is ignoring the fact that the girl was diagnosed as a pathological liar and with antisocial personality disorder when the girl was 13 years old. It’s in her medical file and her student file, along with a warning about the girl’s bullying habits.”
Everyone was staring at Mrs. Vaux up front, the parents looked sick and my classmates were staring in disbelief. “No,” Alya is shaking her head. “This can’t be true. Marinette is the liar.”
Mrs. Vaux turns from Mrs. Bustier and look at Alya. “Actually, Mrs. Dupain-Cheng was telling the truth and has unfairly suffered for it for years. From what I understand, most of this class had vandalized Mrs. Dupain-Cheng’s belongings or stolen things from her. All on the words of Ms. Rossi, who’s lies could have been proven false by a google search. Jagged Stone is allergic to cats. Prince Ali only runs children’s charities. I could continue.”
One of the women in the room clears her voice at this point. “If I may, I am here on the behalf of several people of various nationalities.” She sets a pile of papers before Lila and Alya. “These are cease and desist orders for the both of you. The Ladyblog must be shut down and deleted on the ground of libel, slander, and a violation of rights. As for Ms. Rossi, you have multiple charges of libel, slander, illegal photography, and a variety of charges you order to be sent to famous people who don’t know you.” Lila was paling quickly. “You also have a case of breaking and entering, theft, copyright violation and assault.”
“I have diplomatic immunity. All you can do is kick me out of the country.” Lila stands up from her seat, a smug look on her face.
“No!” A woman with a heavy Italian accent frowns at Lila. “We have revoked your diplomatic immunity. You will be charged here, in France, and will serve out your sentence in a French Prison. Italy already made a mistake when they let you have therapy for your original incident instead of time in a juvenile detention center. We will not make that mistake again.”
A police officer clears his throat and looks over at Lila. “Lila Rossi. You are under arrest for breaking and entering, theft, copyright violation, assault, destruction of property, libel, slander, charity fraud and terrorism. Hawkmoth had a camera in his lair. We have videos of you visiting his lair. He also confirmed that you willingly took akumas, helped him akumatized people and a variety of other things.”
Lila stands frozen as the police officer cuffs her hands behind her back. She finally snaps out of it as she looks towards the other two Italian people. “Mamma! Pápa! Do something!”
The woman takes one look at Lila and then bursts into tears. She’s full on sobbing into her hands. The man simple lays a hand on Mrs. Rossi and levels his daughter with a deadly stare. “No Lila. We cannot help you out of this mess.”
Lila gaps and then glares at her father. “Why not?”
“You’re not a child anymore, Lila! You’re over 18! There’s video evidence of your crimes! That blog is filled with your lies! You can’t lie your way out of this. You can’t get off scot free! You’re being charged with terrorism!”
Lila gaps for another minute then screams. A blood-thirst, angry scream as she whips around and glares at me. “You! This is all your doing Dupain-Cheng! You stupid bitch!”
I level with Lila’s glare. “Yes. I got the ball rolling. You see, when you broke into my room before break and stole my designs so you could add them to your portfolio for University, you didn’t realize that I had a video camera set up. I got on camera, breaking and entering, theft, and copyright violation. I gave the evidence to the police. I didn't expect all of this, but I’m not sorry.”
Lila screams again and starts to fight the police, forcing the second cop to help grab Lila and drag her from the room. Lila’s parents follow them out, with the Italian woman giving the class a nod before following. The lawyer gives Mrs. Vaux a nod and follows after them. 
The other two police officers exchange looks before one clears his throat. “When investigation Ms. Lila Rossi, all of you were brought up. Most of you have broken a variety of laws at the behest of Ms. Rossi. Whether you knew that you were breaking the law or not doesn’t matter. Most of you destroyed the property of one of your classmates, more than once. You also physically assaulted her on more than one occasion. We have the video footage to prove it.”
Several parents were moaning now, forlorn looks on their faces as they started to realize the consequences of their children’s actions. 
“Oh, my god!” We all look over at Max who looked a second away from hyperventilating. “I wrote my University admissions paper about a project Lila worked on. She gave me all of the data!”
Max’s mother moans. “You didn’t look up any of it!”
Max flushes. “She said it hadn’t been published yet.”
Max’s mother mumbles under her breath. “This is why all those Universities denied you! This is why you lost all our University acceptances and scholarships! Because you took the word of some Italian classmate above your own common sense.”
“Max thought that a napkin could cut his eye.” Chloe starts to file her nails, ignoring Max’s mother, who was now staring at her. “And he wears glasses.”
Max’s mother moans once again, and slumps onto the steps next to Max’s seat.
The police officers exchange looks once again. The first one continues his speech as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Due to the fact that most of your crimes were committed when you were a minor and were against the same person. There will not be any fines or jail time for any of you.”
There’s a large collective sigh through the room. Nino’s mother looks like she’s praying. Mrs.Vaux clears her throat. “While that may be true for legal terms, you are all on probation. One step out of line and you will be expelled from this school. You will also all have to complete anti-bullying seminars to graduate. Mrs. Bustier is also no longer your teacher. Mrs. Aveline will be your homeroom teacher for the rest of the year.” She gestures to one of the women behind her. “Mrs. Fortier is your temporary principle for the rest of the year. Mr. Damocles is no longer your principle.”
Rose hesitantly raises a hand. “Why are you firing Mrs. Bustier and Mr. Damocles?”
Mrs. Vaux’s frown deepens. “None of this would have happened if the two of them had done their jobs. Ms. Rossi’s habits were clearly outlined in her student file. If either of them had bothered to do their job correctly four years ago, we wouldn’t be in this position.” Rose nods meekly, sinking back into her seat and leaning into her mother. 
The police officer clears his throat again. “Now, while none of you will be fined or be serving jail time, you do have to serve a certain number of community service hours to complete within the next six months. If you don’t complete the service hours, you will be fined for the crimes. Your parents have already agreed to the terms we will lay out for you. However, because all of you are over 18, you can try to bring this to court.”
Alya turns and glares at me. “This is all your fault!”
Alya’s mouth grabs her by the shoulders and jerks her around. “Alya. You will complete these service hours. If you get convicted you’re looking at thousands in euros of fines and almost a decade of jail time.”
Alya gasps. “What did I do?”
The second policeman glances down at a clipboard. “Libel, slander, damaging of property, theft, and assault.”
Alya stares at the man, going slack in her seat. It was like the consequences of everything she’d done of the past four years were finally hitting her. 
The second policeman clears his throat once again. “Alright. Rose Lavillant, Ivan Bruel, Mylène Haprèle, Nathaniel Kurtzberg and Max Kanté, you will have to serve 50 hours of community service over the next six months. Nino Lahiffe, Lê Chiên Kim, Alya Césaire, and Sabrina Raincomprix, you all will be serving 100 hours of community service.”
“Ms. Césaire, by court order, your Ladyblog will have to be deleted as well.” Alya gaps at the officer and goes to stand, but both of her parents hold her down. 
Mrs. Vaux sighs, and moves her gaze up to the four of us at the top. “Ms. Dupain-Cheng, Ms. Bourgeois, Ms. Couffaine, and Ms. Kubdel, you will be switched into Ms. Mendeleiev’s class for the remainder of the year. I believe it would be best for you to be out of this environment.”
All four of us nod and start to pick up our things. The rest of the classmates stare at us. “But, who’s going to be class representative now?” Rose looks close to tears again.
I shrug, pulling my bag over my shoulder. “The job goes to the deputy now.” 
The whole class shifts to look at Alya, who pales once again. The four of us walk down the stairs to the near silence of the room, our parents trailing after us. As soon as we were out the door several people started yelling in the room. 
I knew I should care, and part of me did, but I just felt happy that most of this was all over. It took four years, but finally, everyone knew about Lila. I hadn’t felt this light in years.
Ch. 2 ~~~~ Ch. 3
194 notes · View notes
psychedellic-phase · 5 years ago
Text
Fifteen (part 6)
Tumblr media
A/N: this part contains season 7 spoilers!!
tw: cursing, regular criminal minds stuff
wordcount: 3.3k
masterlist: 
He squatted down to look inside of the box, deciding not to worry about the surprise being ruined. He knows the ending, it’s already spoiled, so why not see what he has in store?
He took a mental note of each item, cataloging them in the extensive library that is his brain. For some of the items he immediately knew what they meant, for others he would have to read. He realized the bottom of the box was dirty, dusty even. When he picked up the debris, he realized they were pieces of dried flower petals that had been crushed to smithereens when he knocked the box over. He held the delicate pieces in his hands, barely even breathing, so he wouldn’t destroy them more than he already had. He sighed and tried to put the petals back together like a puzzle, but it was missing far too many pieces. Pieces that he was responsible for losing. Tears welled up in his eyes and he put the pieces on his bedside table. 
He was angry now. In all his grieving since the breakup, he hadn’t been angry yet. He did the rest of the five stages, just in the wrong order. He started out with denial, telling himself it was all a dream. If he could just wake up then you would be right there, arms open, ready to accept him, comfort him, love him. Then came the bargaining, countless nights on your doorstep banging on the door begging you to let him in and just talk. You never answered. Then the depression, which lasted longer than he expected. He was still a shell of a person on most days, just moving through the motions, not feeling much of anything at all. In the few weeks prior he had grown to accept defeat, accept that this was over and done. Acceptance is always the hardest bit, especially for him. Spencer Reid doesn’t lose. But he always seemed to forget that love isn’t a game to be played; you were not a prize to be won. Love is hard work and sweat and tears and yelling and kissing and laughing and comfort. Love isn’t a game. 
But then your stupid box came, causing him lose all the progress he had made. 
Now, he was finally angry. He was angry at himself more than you, but he was still so angry with you. He knew he had mentally checked out of your relationship before the end, but that was because he just needed a break. Everything had changed so much so fast that he just needed to go sort himself out before jumping back into you. But you wouldn’t give him the time. You didn’t need space, you needed him; and he wouldn’t give himself to you. Neither of you would give the other what they desperately needed, so you ended it. He may have blamed himself for your relationship’s demise but he blamed you for leaving. He hated that you could just walk away from him, just like everyone else did. He hated that you could walk away from your family like that. How could you leave Derek behind? Rossi? Hotch? JJ? Garcia? How could you be so selfish?
“How could you!?” He wailed, as if you were there to hear him. Hot, angry tears ran down his face. 
Spencer was seething, pacing wildly up and down in his room, pulling at his hair in a desperate attempt to feel any release. Eventually he talked himself down, but immediately following anger is depression. That damn Kubler-Ross Change curve. That familiar hollow feeling filled up his chest. He was numb again, and immediately regretted all the thoughts he had about you. 
He was just hurt, in so many different ways at once and he had no idea what to do with it. Handling his emotions isn’t exactly his strong suit. 
More than anything he missed you. The letters only brought back up all the feelings he had worked so hard to repress. He needed you, more than he ever did, so he turned to the one place he could find you. 
“Congratulations Spence! You have made it ⅓ of the way through the letters. ⅓ of the way through our relationship. So it only makes sense that this is about our one year anniversary. 
We take a time jump on this one. So direct your attention to the green velvet jewelry box and the dried flower. I kept a few flowers from every bouquet you ever got me and dried them, so I could have them forever. Remember how I had so many flowers tied up with string hanging in our bedroom? They were all from you. Throwing flowers away always made me sad, especially when you bought them because you always took such care in choosing them. Every bouquet had a meaning. I never knew about flower symbolism until I met you. This magnolia is from my favorite bouquet you ever got me, the ones for our first anniversary,”
His heart sank. The flower was your favorite, and there it was in shreds on his nightstand. He destroyed it, not on purpose, but he still destroyed it. He ran his hands through his brown hair, cursing himself for ruining yet another thing. Lately, he always seemed to be doing that. 
“So let’s start with some context. Everything was going perfectly. The universe was finally on our side. Emily came back from the dead, which was a shocking but very welcome surprise. I needed her, needed my best friend. And she came at just the right time. She was different, but still our Em. JJ was back as a profiler now, which made us all very happy, you in particular. The gang was finally back together and we felt unstoppable, invincible. Hell, we even got questioned by a Senate Committee and still kept our jobs. Things got back to normal, or whatever can be considered ‘normal’ for us. It’s a very loose definition of the word. We had officially been together a year and it was without a doubt the happiest year of my life. We never fought, all our days were filled with work and loving each other. We spent all our time together, which in hindsight probably wasn’t the best thing. We got a little codependent. But it worked. We worked. 
I’m still sorry for how that day went. You planned it to be perfect, and I messed it up. 
The flowers and necklace were the gifts that you planned to give me at your place after we got dinner at that fancy Italian restaurant downtown that I had been dying to eat at. You told me it took a lot to get the reservations, but you managed to snag a table for us, because you called three months in advance. It was the sweetest gesture. I mean that. No guy ever put that much effort into something for me. I was so excited; I went out and bought a dress for the occasion and everything. It was going to be the best night. We were going to hit the first milestone of many. There were only 3. I thought there would be infinite anniversaries for us, Spence, but we only had 3. And I’m sorry I ruined the first one. 
Work happened. More specifically, Hotch sent me and Rossi to interview a prisoner at North Branch in Maryland. I originally refused, telling them all about our date. Hotch and Rossi both assured me we would be back in time for the reservations. 
“Why me? Why can’t you bring Emily? Or Derek? This is the ONE night I need!” I had complained. 
“Your skills are what we need for this one. It’ll be quick Y/N, I promise,” Hotch said. I rolled my eyes, not to be disrespectful but so he knew I wasn’t happy. 
“Fine, but if you make me stand up Spencer Reid on our anniversary you’ll be a very sorry man.”
They both just laughed and I was whisked away on the jet to Maryland. The whole way there I was nervous and fidgeting. I barely spoke to Rossi on the flight, and I’m have the biggest mouth of anyone! I just didn’t want to ruin that night. You were so excited. I hate disappointing you. You were so nice about my having to work though. When I told you I had to go, you texted me and told me it was okay, a flight from DC to Baltimore is 34 minutes. We’d barely hit altitude before we had to come down, and that you were so excited to see me. I promised you that I’d make it, I’d even be early. 
I think that’s the only promise to you I ever broke. 
The guy we interviewed was a real weirdo, like a little weirder than the usual unsubs. He was on Death Row, scheduled to be executed in a week. His thing was killing women and then scalping them to make wigs. 
Real nasty. 
We got there earlier than expected, around noon. We interviewed him for a while, taking a lot of breaks to breathe. He even gave Rossi the heebie-jeebies and Rossi invented interviewing serial killers. Just as we were about done, around four, something happened. A riot in the courtyard. Of course. They locked down the prison. Thankfully we were not stuck in the room with the psycho, like you were with Hotch that time. They still wouldn’t let us leave. It’s not like we didn’t ask. We did. We did the whole “we’re FBI agents. Don’t make me call the director” thing. The warden just said sorry, no can do, tough shit. So Rossi and I were trapped in a hyper-max that was rioting, and the clock was ticking and ticking and my chances of making this date were fading away. 
To say I was pissed was an understatement. Rossi knew I was furious. He was there when Hotch said ‘It’ll be quick Y/N, promise,” and he knows how I bite heads off when I’m mad. He’s a smart man, so he did the smart thing and didn’t talk. I tried to call you, text you, everything, but my stupid phone had no reception in that stupid concrete box. 
They let us out at 5, combine the 34 minute flight with commuting to and from the air strips and taking into account 5 pm rush hour traffic? I know you can tell me exactly how long it would’ve taken me to get to the restaurant. But even I knew it was too damn long. 
And the traffic really outdid itself that day! I didn’t think a ten minute drive could ever be a half hour long, but it was. As we sat I got more and more antsy and tried calling you. Straight to voicemail. I did that probably 15 times, but nothing. Your phone died. Most people would assume that you charge your phone all the time, but it’s the opposite. The thing rarely is above 30% and I used to remind you to charge it all the time. It was always sort of endearing, just another thing to love about your quirky self. That night it was just infuriating. 
When we landed it was already past 6:30. I changed in the bathroom at Quantico and drove as fast as I could to the restaurant. I definitely broke some laws that day. 
When I got there I didn’t see you, so I asked the hostess about the reservation. She gave me a sad look and told me you waited forty-five minutes for me. You even ordered my favorite wine for the table. And I missed it.”
Spencer recalled sitting there at the table, fidgeting with his thumbs and barely sitting still. Every time the door swung open and it wasn’t you he lost more and more hope. His phone had died because he was bad at charging it. You were the one to always remind him to plug it in before bed. He couldn’t even call you to see if you were okay, or call Rossi, or Hotch. He couldn’t do anything except sit there and eat the free bread and oil that were on the table. He knew there would be a good reason why you missed the date, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. At 6:45 he gave up and paid for the wine he barely even drank and left, everyone sending him sympathetic looks as he walked out. It was no longer perfect, and that’s all he wanted. One perfect night with you, and you couldn’t even give him that.
“So I drove to your place and knocked on the door. I was so nervous, feeling equal amounts of excitement and dread. I knocked on the door and you opened it. I smiled and went in for the hug and you blocked it. Cue our first fight. 
“I’m so sorry love, at the prison they locked us in and we couldn’t leave and then there was traffic and I’m so so sorry,” I said. You just wouldn’t look at me. You just stared at the gift bag on your couch. 
“Spencer? Hello? I’m so sorry. I know how much effort you put into today and I–“
“Do you know how embarrassing that is?” You said. You looked upset, brows furrowed and hands waving wildly. 
“I sat there for almost an hour alone, the waitress even offered me dessert on the house because I got stood up. I kept telling them you’d be there, but I had to give up. You stood me up on our anniversary Y/N.”
I felt like a kid getting scolded by their favorite teacher. 
“I tried to call you,” I mumbled, “There was no service in the prison so when we were on our way back to the jet I tried, but it went straight to voicemail.”
You just groaned and ran your hands through your hair. You had taken off your suit jacket and tie and they were thrown on the couch.
“You shouldn’t have gone! You knew what today meant to me and still went!”
“I tried! I asked Hotch if someone else could do it and he said no! And YOU said it was okay!”
Our voices were loud now, I half expected your neighbor to bang on the door and tell us off. 
“Of course I did! I couldn’t tell you not to do your job. The job always comes first! I just wish you told me so I didn’t look like an idiot!”
“‘Job always comes first’” I mocked, you looked at me in a way you never looked at me. It was the look you only used on unsubs. Jaw clenched, eyes fiery, more pissed than I had ever seen you. “I TRIED to tell you! Maybe if you ever charged your damn phone you would’ve gotten my texts! My fourteen phone calls! Maybe you would’ve gotten the texts and calls I had Rossi send because I thought it was my phone that was broken!”
You moved to sit on the couch, me standing in front of you. Tears were stinging my eyes, I’ve always been an angry crier. I softened before talking next. 
“Spence, Love, look at me.”
And you did. Your brown eyes looked sad, all the rage and fire behind them was gone. 
“I’m sorry, what can I do?”
I sat next to you and put my head on your shoulder. You leaned your head on top of mine. Such a small gesture, but so romantic at the same time. 
“I just wanted today to be special,” you croaked. 
“I know. I’m sorry. I should’ve called the restaurant or something. I could’ve found a better plan.”
“No, it’s not your fault. I’m sorry too, Y/N.”
You wrapped me up in a much needed hug and kissed my cheek. We sat like that for a while. 
“Well this isn’t how I wanted tonight to go but,” You said and reached behind you. 
I sighed, “I didn’t get you anything, we said no gifts.”
You smirked and handed me a bouquet of flowers and a bag, “They’re magnolias.”
“They’re beautiful,” I said, and I shoved my face in them to smell. 
“Magnolias are considered one of the first flowering plants. Fossil remains show they have been around for 100 million years. They symbolize longevity and perseverance. Men historically gifted women magnolias as an appreciation of their beauty, essentially saying ‘you are worthy of a beautiful magnolia.’ But more recently the idea of a steel magnolia, a strong southern wom—“
I cut you off with a kiss, “I love them. Stop rambling.”
You blushed and motioned for me to open the bag. It held a small, green velvet jewelry box. Inside was a vintage locket, gold with little blue stones and beautiful etching. I gasped when I saw it. I opened it up and it was empty. 
“I wanted you to pick what goes in it, Y/N.”
I held it delicately in my hands; the chain was so thin, “It’s perfect.”
You grinned practically ear to ear, those dimples coming out full force. I asked you to clasp it for me and it hung just below the base of my neck. 
I wore the locket daily. The gold started to tarnish and chip, but I still wore it. I only took it off to shower and sleep. On one side of the oval I put a picture of you, the one from the fourth of July when I painted the kids’ faces at Rossi’s party. I painted a flag on your cheek. You laughed as the brush tickled your skin. You smiled wide in that picture. I love that picture. It’s still in there. It hurts to look at. 
I can’t wear it anymore. I thought long and hard about keeping it. It was a part of me for two years. It kept you close to my heart always, no matter where we were. I thought maybe I could change the picture out, or just leave it in a box to collect dust. Both options feel wrong, so instead I’m giving it back to you, along with the magnolia that has long since dried up. Much like our feelings for each other. 
I don’t care what you do with any of these things. I don’t even know what to do with them, with any of this. I don’t know what to do with all these feelings, Spence. I don’t know what comes next. I don’t know how to do this without you. You always know. So do with these what you see fit. I trust you.”
Spencer put the paper down and held the box in his hands and opened it. He remembered picking it out and thinking how wonderfully the blue and gold would contrast your skin tone. He remembered clasping it around your neck a thousand times because your fingers just couldn’t seem to do it. He remembered how you used to play with it when you got nervous. He remembered the rows of flowers you would hang on the wall. It just inspired him to keep buying you more and more. He loved those little things about you.
As you promised the picture of him was still inside. He stared at himself with a huge grin and a red, white, and blue cheek. He was so happy. He looked nothing like the man in that picture anymore. His hair was longer and shaggier now and he couldn’t remember the last time he smiled like that. Smiles like that were reserved for you. 
He held the locket in his hands and stared out the window, admiring how the snow blanketed the street. 
Then he heard something, a knock at his door. 
He jumped up, part of him thought it would be you. Could it be? Has rainy Seattle already been too much for you?
A familiar voice from behind the door spoke, “Hey, it’s me.”
Part 7!
taglist: @l0ve-0f-my-life​ @aperrywilliams​ @helloniallslovelies​ @random-ravings
@ajwantsapancake​ @andiebeaword​ @boiled-onionrings​ @frnks-stuff​ @icantevenanymore1​
99 notes · View notes
magniloquent-raven · 5 years ago
Note
for the I Love You prompts: harringrove, 20) “You can borrow mine.”
thank you so much for the prompt!!! hope u enjoy what i did with it lol
posted on ao3
--
It’s been two years since the Hargrove-Mayfield family moved to Hawkins, and Billy is still here. He never planned on staying this long—in fact, he started coming up with an escape route the second his boots hit the ground, and yet…
Well, plans change. He didn’t plan on getting stabbed through the chest by a thirty-foot-tall spider demon made of people sludge either, but shit happens. Life happens. Falling in love happens, apparently. Not that Billy thought it would ever happen to him.
But here he is. In Hawkins, Indiana, head-over-fucking-heels, hanging around like a pathetic stray hoping for table scraps of whatever Steve Harrington’s willing to give him. They’re friends now, and Billy’s savouring every moment he can, while it lasts.
Steve asked him, one afternoon, why he was still here. “Figured you’d take off after graduation is all. Hawkins doesn’t exactly have much worth hanging around for,” he’d laughed, a little self-deprecating. “Besides, uh, a lot of bad memories here. I wouldn’t blame you if you wanted to leave.”
And Billy hadn’t known what to say. Muttered something about sticking around for Max, which wasn’t exactly a lie, but wasn’t anywhere close to the whole truth.
He spends a whole lot of time in that grey area. Weaving just enough reality into his cover-stories to make them solid enough to hide behind. It’s fucking exhausting. And sometimes a dangerous line to walk.
Especially since Steve seems to buy into his bullshit less and less lately.
Maybe it’s the fact that dying and coming back changes your perspective a bit, or hanging around Steve so much is making him soft, or some combo of both, but he’s starting to wonder if maybe he could let go of it entirely, and just…live honestly.
Which isn’t an option, not really. But sometimes, in the small moments when Steve smiles at him and the weight on his shoulders doesn’t feel as heavy, he thinks maybe, maybe, it could be. And it scares him a little. How much he wants it to be an option.
It’s a cold evening in mid-November the first time he really slips.
They’re at Robin’s house, of all places. Despite Billy’s jealousy over the closeness of her and Steve’s friendship, he gets along with Robin. Almost too well, according to Steve.
So, it’s a thing. All three of them hanging out at her place.
Her dad makes awesome mac n’ cheese. Her mom is friendly, but not too friendly. And they let Robin hang out in her room with two boys without making a huge fuss about it.
It’s nice.
Billy almost makes it through the whole evening without doing something stupid, but then Steve (somehow) spills an entire can of Coke on his jacket, and Billy opens his big mouth without thinking.
“You can borrow mine.”
The thing is…Billy doesn’t really get cold anymore. He gets warm still. Way too easily. Sometimes he’ll bundle up just to remind himself he can get warm without it hurting. Without the thing inside him dying of it and destroying him in the process. So, he still wears jackets, sweaters, whatever-- probably more often than he used to, actually-- but he doesn’t need them.
Sometimes he wonders if one day he’ll freeze to death without noticing, or if frostbite isn’t a thing for him anymore. He hasn’t had the balls to test it.
Either way it’s like the world’s dumbest super power. Just another thing reminding him of shit he doesn’t want to remember.
Steve is staring at him. At the jacket in his hand. It’s his leather one. The one Max bought for him after he came back from the hospital. She’d wrapped it up all pretty with a bow and note that said “glad you didn’t die” in purple ink. Susan was mortified when she noticed it but Billy laughed so hard he nearly busted his stitches. 
He’s worn the jacket almost every day since. 
Robin is staring too, with a weird, calculating look in her eye, and he doesn’t like it.
“I…” Steve’s gaze wavers, flickering between Billy’s face and his hand again, “I can just—”
“Just take it, Harrington,” Billy interrupts, hoping the gruffness covers for how pink his cheeks are. He tosses the jacket, and Steve catches it reflexively, still looking at it like he’s not sure it’s real.
“Are you sure?”
Is he sure. That he wants to know what Steve looks like in his jacket? Yes. That he wants anyone else to know that? No.
Billy shrugs, aiming for non-committal. “Not like I need it,” he gestures vaguely towards himself, “Not entirely human anymore, remember?” Bitterness creeps into his tone without his permission.
“Hey,” Steve admonishes. Quietly, softly, but still a reprimand. His eyes are wide, concerned. Billy tries to wave him off, but Steve shakes his head and takes a step closer. “Don’t do that. You’re not a monster.”
“I—” he can’t hold eye contact anymore, not with Steve looking at him like that. He stares at the ugly yellow carpet beneath his feet instead. “Didn’t say that.”
“Yes, you did,” Steve responds immediately, tone firm and direct. Because he knows. Knows Billy better than anyone has in a long time. Which is saying something, because Billy is friends with a girl who’s literally been inside his head.
It makes Billy want to curl up in a hole somewhere and never speak again. Run as far as he can. Cry ‘til he can’t anymore. Break shit. Blow up his life and start over. Being known feels so foreign, he doesn’t know what to do with it.
But under that there’s something delicate, warm and fragile, tentative. He’s afraid to get near it. Like it’ll disappear if he looks too closely. Shatter into pieces if he tries to bring it out of hiding.
“Alright. Alright, fine,” Billy mutters weakly. “But just… wear the jacket, okay? Really. I don’t need it. Besides, it’d look good on you.”
Whoops.
Somewhere off to the side Robin makes a small, amused sound, and alarm bells go off in Billy’s head. But before he can completely panic, backpedal and pretend he was joking despite sounding entirely sincere, Steve grins.
They’ve been friends for over a year now and Billy’s world still stops for a moment when Steve smiles at him.
And then he puts the jacket on and…
Wow.
Okay.
Billy has always liked looking at Steve. He’s never really hidden that fact, just banked on nobody figuring out the why of it. He’s aware-- painfully aware-- that Steve is incredibly gorgeous. 
But this is...
This just isn’t fair.
Steve looks a little sheepish, and stuffs his hands in his pockets, hair falling in his eyes when he ducks his head. And he’s blushing. It’s faint, barely-there, just a light pink tinge to his cheeks that nobody would’ve noticed if they weren’t paying close attention, which. Well. Billy is. 
He wants to feel it under his palms, feel the warmth of it. Wants to know if he can make that blush spread, see how far it would go, chase that heat with his mouth, drop to his knees and watch Steve come undone. He wants--
So much.
He’s sure it’s written all over his face, but he can’t bring himself to care.
“Well?” Steve raises his eyebrows, grin turning teasing as he spreads his arms, glancing down at himself pointedly. 
Billy clears his throat. Blinks. “Suits you,” he answers after a too-long pause. 
“Can we go now?” Robin interjects, rolling her eyes. Her tone is more fond than exasperated, but Billy still flinches a little.
“Yeah,” he says quietly, gaze flicking over to Steve for a second before he looks back at Robin. “Yeah, let’s go.”
He “forgets” to ask for his jacket back before he goes home that night. There’s no guarantee that Steve would wear it again, but Billy can hope. 
And for once in his life, he gets what he wants. Steve starts wearing it all the time. But Billy’s starting to see why people say “be careful what you wish for” because the whole situation is a very mixed blessing. 
He keeps catching Robin giving him weird looks, and, really, he can’t blame her because he’s been so unsubtle lately, it’s embarrassing. And terrifying. Because it’s going to get him noticed by the wrong person someday. 
But he can’t fucking help it, not when Steve’s walking around looking like that. 
Though, Steve’s been acting odd too. Staring at Billy when he thinks no one’s looking, face all pinched and thoughtful. It’s getting worrying. 
Then one afternoon Billy walks into Family Video and Steve pulls him into the back room. No hello or anything, just a hand around Billy’s wrist and a determined set to his jaw. 
He locks the door behind them.
“Steve?”
“I talked to Max this morning.” 
“O...kay?”
Steve sighs, runs a hand through his hair. His other hand is still wrapped around Billy’s wrist. “She said. Um. That jacket was a gift?”
Oh.
Shit.
“Yeah, so?” Billy flinches at his own tone but Steve doesn’t move, doesn’t pull away. His grip tightens, fingertips pressed to Billy’s skin hard enough to feel his pulse pounding. 
Steve takes a step forward. They’re close enough that Billy can see the purple shadows under Steve’s eyes. He doesn’t get enough sleep. Always asking Billy if he’s still having nightmares, never worrying about his own. Billy’s heart aches, and he hopes Robin will take care of Steve if this conversation ends his and Steve’s friendship. Someone needs to look after this boy if Billy isn’t there to do it. 
He hates that thought.
“So, I… Billy, why’d you give it to me?”
“Because…” Panic hits him hard, belatedly, as he tries to imagine actually answering that question. His stomach clenches, flips, and he curls in on himself. “Because you needed it,” he finishes lamely. 
But of course Steve sees through him, of course he does. “Really?” Steve sighs, rolling his eyes.
“What do you want from me, Steve?” Billy snaps, nervous energy making him jittery, he feels cornered, caught up in all the ways this could blow up in his face, trapped. He calms down a smidge when regret hits him, and he takes a breath, hates himself a little for snapping. 
“I want you to tell me it meant something, asshole.”
Billy freezes. 
He looks up at Steve, really looks at him, sees tension in his shoulders, the nervous twist of his mouth, uncertainty in his eyes. 
Oh.
“You...really?” Billy breathes, quietly, terrified of shattering the moment. “It does--it--it did, I--” Words have never failed him so completely. He used to be good at this. It would be utterly mortifying if not for the sweet smile spreading across Steve’s face. He’s strangely okay with making a fool of himself if it means Steve looking at him like that. “I wanted…” he squeezes his eyes shut, bracing himself, “I wanted to take care of you. I always...want that. You needed something and I--I’d give you anything--” 
Steve’s hands are warm. He cradles Billy’s face gently, so careful, and tilts his face upwards until Billy meets his eyes. 
“Anything?” 
Well. No turning back now. Might as well embrace this whole honesty thing. “Yeah, pretty boy. Anything. Besides, you look hot as fuck in leather.”
Steve grins at that, eyes crinkling at the corners, and he lets out a huff of a delighted laugh. “In that case, I’m gonna need you to kiss me--”
He barely has time to finish his sentence before Billy lunges forward, crashing their lips together. It’s messy at first, desperate, Billy’s fingers threaded through Steve’s hair, pulling him closer. A whine escapes him (that he would deny later) when Steve pulls back, but he’s only gone for a second. He presses forward again, but gentler this time, slow, one hand falling to Billy’s waist and the other sliding to the back of his neck. 
Billy could’ve stayed like this forever, but a loud, insistent knock at the door makes them both jump.
“Steve, I don’t care if you’re mid-BJ right now, it’s my break, and you locked yourself in there with my stuff!” Robin yells through the door. 
Steve rests his forehead against Billy’s shoulder and he muffles a laugh into his shirt. “Goddamnit, Robin,” he mutters, and lifts his head to glare at the door, “Alright!” he calls, then turns to Billy. “To be continued?” There’s a question in his eyes, more than what he’s saying out loud.
Billy brushes a lock of hair from his face, and grins, “Count on it.”
128 notes · View notes