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just-my-fandom · 5 years ago

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Over and Over (Steve Harrington x Byers! Reader)

Title; Over and Over

Pairing(s); Steve Harrington x Byers! Reader, Jonathan Byers x Sister! Reader, Will Byers x Sister! Reader, Joyce Byers x Daughter! Reader, Robin x Platonic! Reader, Billy Hargrove x Enemy! Reader

Season place; Season 3

Request; Maybe one with Steve (Harrington) where Reader is the oldest Byers sibling and is dating Steve (it’s after Nancy and Jonathan got together) and reader is kidnapped with Steve instead of Robin, and reader breaks down explains that she keeps dragging Steve into danger with the upside down and stuff (maybe she got taken into the upside down around season two?) and Steve reassures her that he’s staying to keep her safe. They escape the Russian base and end up fighting the find flayer and reader protects El from Billy which ends up getting the reader hurt, and Billy ends up protecting the reader and getting killed by the mind flayer and Joyce lets reader choose between staying in Hawkins with Steve (because shes 19) or move out with her mom and brothers (you choose)(I’m sorry it’s so long but I wanted to include as much detail asp!)

Warnings; Reader and Steve are beaten up, reader suffers from trama of the Upside Down, mention of blood, way too much fluff, angst

Tags; (okay, so I went back to the post I made for all my stranger things posts, and saw all of you wanted to be tagged in either all the Steve shots, or all of the stranger things shots, if you would like to be removed from the tags or added, please let me know!) @irreplaceable-ecstasy @rexorangecouny @fraeppuccino @spider-boyparker @itsfangirlmendes @tellmyselflies @xkotkuu @scarletmeii @krazykatkay456 @idumpyourgrass @strangerpotternatural

Upcoming One Shot; Leonard Snart x Reader

Note; At the moment I am only taking requests for Stranger Things and Marvel! This has a very long introduction so I apologize in advance! But I’m honestly super proud of this (very long) story so please enjoy!

Amount needed for 2k followers; 322

Gif(s);

The Byers family has been through a lot. It was obvious if you looked at any of the four members. In the last three years, one of the Byers siblings went missing, came back only for the other sibling to disappear, and when they were both safe at home, they had begun to see hallucinations.

Joyce Byers knew what she was doing, but people thought she was crazy. When Will first went missing, her Christmas lights flickered, she heard a voice in her phone that then burned itself out, and some thing came out of the wall.

Jonathan and Y/N thought their mother was going nuts. But it wasn’t until both of them, plus Steve and Nancy, saw the Demogorgan in their home and then put it to flames.

Will was safe, officially, after near months. But the family was still shaken. Seven months after Will had been found by Joyce and Jim, Y/N never met up with Jonathan at his car after school, and she was reported missing when she never returned home that night.

Then Joyce started getting the signs again. The Christmas lights that hadn’t been touched in seven months flicked occasionally, their new bought phone was burnt to the touch, but, thankfully, there was no thing in the wall.

Y/N was found in a short time span of three weeks. With the experience and knowledge everyone had from Wills disappearance, they knew how to handle the Demogorgans, and get you out of the Upside Down as quickly as they could.

Eleven succeeded in closing the Gate, bringing us to 1985. Your day in Hawkins was normal, or as normal as it could get. Jonathan had dropped you off at the Hendersons house on his way to work, Claudia calling you in to announce that Dustin was home from camp,

Then it progressively got weirder. Dustin claimed to have a girlfriend out of Hawkins and dragged you and the party to the hills, with a stereo in an attempt to contact this Susie. The party was quick to not believe his antics, which left you to feeling bad and stating you believed him (but did you?)

Then a Russian code was found on the stereo, which led you to Scoops Ahoy to break the code and figure out what secrets it beheld,

Now, in the time span of twenty four hours, you had snuck into a Russian base (with Lucas’ younger sister that took you a lot of convincing to join), been spotted by said Russians, and now you and Steve were probably going to die by Russians,

“Let me go!” Your hand had freed itself from the Russian guards grip, and you had ended up shoved into a wall, threatened, then dropped and tied to a chair, back to back with your boyfriend of ten months, Steve,

“I knew we shouldn’t have come here,” Steve hears you mumble this three times, before his hand, that too, were tied back, grabbed yours, holding it tightly,

“Hey,” His spoken words cause you to fall silent, “We’re gonna get out of here, yeah? Dustin, Robin and Erica are probably thinking of a plan right now,”

Your head falls back so it knocked against his, lightly, eyes shutting in an attempt to calm your racing heart and steady your breathing, “I can’t believe I let Dustin sneak into a Russian base, God, Ms. Henderson’s gonna kill me,” You drop your head forward, eyes pinching shut before you place your head in the before position, “This is my fault,”

“How is this your fault?” Steve turns his head, your own turning so your cheeks almost touched,

“I dragged you guys into this mess, since the beginning,” You tilt your head down, as your eyes began to burn from hidden tears, “The demogorgans, the hospital, now the Russians trying to open the gate, my family was envolved with it all. I don’t know why you stuck with me all this time,”

“It is not your fault, do you hear me?” Steven demands, bumping your shoulder so you lifted your head, “And I’m always going to stick with you, Y/N. I’m not going to let something like this tear me from you, I’m always going to keep you safe,”

“That was so cheesy,” You murmur, Steve grinning as he facer forward and leans his head back against yours,

“You do things to me, Byers,” He mutters, and you inhale a deep breath, ignoring the taste of blood on your tongue from where the Russian leader punched you in the mouth,

“What if we don’t get out of here?” You ask, quietly, almost hoping that Steve couldn’t hear you. You would only bring his confidence down,

“Then we’ll be together,” Steve answers, not seeing the smile your lips pulled into as your eyes shut in exhaustion,

You almost find yourself dozing off with Steve’s fingers linking through yours, for any search of physical contact, but the way the hidden rooms door throws open startles you to sit up straight, eyes snapping to the three people huddled at the door,

“Thank God!” Dustin hisses out a whisper yell, running forward to untie Steve’s hands as Robin does yours, pulling you to stand straight,

“Are you okay?” She asks, worriedly, eyes flicking to the blood at your lip, “You’re bleeding,”

“I’m fine,” You raise the sleeve of your plaid shirt to rub away the mix of dry and fresh blood, turning to Steve and holding a hand up to hover your fingers over the black around his eye,

“It looks bad,” You whisper, Steve taking your hand, and quickly kissing the back of it, he smiles,

“I’m fine,” He mocks, and you squint your eyes before following Dustin out into the halls, “Now how the hell do we get out of here?”

“Good news,” Dustin starts, “We found a way out. But it’s a bit of a walk,”

“Anywhere as long as it’s not here,” You grumble, and look down the hall that Dustin had pulled you into. The end was narrow, and it looked to be, without exaggeration, over a mile away, “Holy shit,”

“Told you,” Dustin waves a hand, and you share a glance with Steve, shrugging and walking after the young teenager,

. . .

“I can’t believe we made it out of there,” Robin throws her hands up and exhales an exaggerated breath, Erica scoffing beside her,

“I don’t know how you fools survived,” She crosses her arms, looking at Dustin then Steve, “He barely did with that black eye,”

“Hey,” Steve warns, eyes shifting to you when your walking seems to pick up, and he looks forward towards the group of nine in the food court,

“Y/N!” Joyce shouts, her figure moving away from Jim to run up to you, her hands coming up to your face protectively, “Baby what happened?”

“There’s a secret Russian base underneath the mall!” Dustin speaks up, as Joyce looks to him, and you step away from your mother to embrace Jonathan,

“It’s a long story,” Steve waves off, and you let Will tuck himself into your side,

“You okay?” You ask your younger brother, who nods meekly and smiles up at you, but frowns at your busted lip,

“Okay, we all have a plan,” Mike steps up to the new group, eyes flicking between everyone, “We’ll be going in groups, each group needs to take one of these,” In his arms are four talkies,

“Whoa whoa, where will everyone be going?” Steve asks, as you release Will to take a talkie,

“Someone still needs to go and stop the gate from reopening,” Lucas informs, and you furrow your eyebrows,

“Thats back at the base, we have to go back there?” You point to your lip, then to Steve’s eye, “We were kidnapped by Russians, we’re not going back,”

“That’s why your mother and I will,” Jim snatches one of the talkies, looking at you, “You and your brothers will be somewhere where it’s safe,”

“No one is safe right now!” You remind,

“Y/N’s right,” Mike swallows, “The Mindflayer is on it’s way here now. Billy too, so we gotta get in positions, quick,”

“Okay, fine,” You sigh, rubbing your temple, “Where’s everyone going?” You ask a repeat of Steve’s question,

“We have fireworks that will be able to slow down the Mindflayer,” Mike points to the box at Nancys feet, “All of us will stay up here and distract it long enough for the gate to remain closed. Once Billy gets here he’s going to go after El, so we need to keep them separated,”

“Think we can do that?” You frown, looking at Steve,

“I fought him once I could do it again,” Steve shrugs, and you squint your eyes,

“You lost that fight, Steve,”

“We don’t talk about it!” Steve protests, and takes your talkie, “We should spread out through the food court in case one of us is cornered,”

“We’re going down below,” Jim informs, and when he turns to El, Joyce is pulling on your wrist and pulling both Jonathan and Will against you,

“Please be safe you three,” She pleas, almost sniffling, “Take care of each other, do not let one or the other out of sight,”

“Yes mom,” You smile, sliding an arm around her shoulder, “Dont worry about us, help Hopper with the gate,”

“I will,” Joyce nods, hesitantly releasing her only daughter, looking up at Jonathan, “Please keep an eye on them,”

“Mom,” You groan, “Who’s the older sibling here?” Joyce steps back, waving as she follows Jim and Murray in the direction you came in,

“Okay,” Nancy claps her hands, heaving a deep breath, “Lets do this,”

“Steve, Robin, and Y/N, you guys can go behind the counter,” Mike lifts one of the boxes, handing it to Steve and giving you a lighter, “It’ll give you the front view. Max and I will find a way to get El out of here, Dustin, Lucas, Erica, Will, you guys take upstairs. Nancy and Jonathan, work on the car and see if you can get it working, then we all get the hell out of here,”

“Got it,” You nod, looking around when no one moves, “Go! Go, come on!”

Everyone darts to their designated spots, Steve leaping over the counter and squatting beside Robin, as you pick up a firework, inhaling quick, deep breaths,

“If you need us to take over, tell us,” Steve orders, watching you nod and raise to look over the counter, jolting when the glass roof above shatters, and a large -thing- jumps down into the middle of StarCourt Mall

You hear Robin whisper shout a rushed “Holy shit!” before Steve is shoving a firework into her hands, and he stands up beside you,

You fumble with the lighter in your hand and set the firework off in Steve’s grip, ducking in time for him to draw his arm back and chuck the firework at the MindFlayers front,

It explodes on one of the tentacles (thing) the MindFlayer shrieking out loud as the four kids on the second floor rush to the edge, all dropping their own fireworks onto the top of the monster.

“We’re already running out, quick,” You heave a deep breath, leaning up on the counter after a full five minutes of tossing firework after firework,

“What’d we do when we do run out?” Robin panics, moving to Steve’s other side, “Just stand here?”

“El can’t hold that thing or Billy off,” You wipe a layer of sweat from your forehead, watching in alert when Billy jerks Eleven to the floor and pins her. Billy was basically radiating anger. “Steve, give me your bat,”

“What?” Steve narrows his eyes, eyes flicking between you and the two feet away, “No. No way,”

“Steve, dammit, give me your bat!” You demand, hand out, “I’ve fought way worse things than Billy, I can take him,”

Steve clenches his jaw, lifting his nailed bat from its place leant against the counter, and he shifts it to hold out the handle, “Be careful. Beat his ass,”

You inhale a deep breath, stepping out from behind the counter and holding up the bat, eyes shifting between the MindFlayer growling and Billy snarling at El,

“Hey! Hargrove!” Your shout drags Billy’s eyes away from the young girl beneath him, his fury blown eyes instantly landing on your figure, “Get the hell away from her!”

“No, (Y/N/N),” Eleven begins to sit up, Billy putting a large hand against her face, slamming her head down onto the tiles so she shut her eyes in surprise, and remained on the floor when Billy stood up, his fists causing his knuckles to burn white,

“Come at me,” You mutter, swinging the bat the same way you’ve seen Steve do, “Come at me!”

Billy grins, booted feet stomping towards you, guiding you to walk backwards twice, startled,

“This is gonna hurt like a bitch,” You warn, Billy beginning to hurl at you, causing you to pinch your eyes shut and swing, the loud thud of his body forcing your eyes back open, shocked to see Billy holding his side, with multiple holes leaking blood from the nails of the bat,

“Holy shit,” You step back, looking up at the MindFlayer as it shrieked, “Holy shit. I did it,”

“Y/N!” Steve and Robin both call in a startled panic, and you lower the bat to turn to them, “Get out of the way!”

You look forward to find why they were freaking out, gasping when Billy grabs the bat, unharmed, jerking it from your hands and tossing it behind him, eyes narrowed,

You bite your tongue and slowly step back, Billy reaching out and grabbing the front of your shirt, shoving you onto the ground so your head, too, knocked against the concrete, forcing you to release a pained groan,

“Get me a firework!” Steve rushes, eyes wide as he waves a frantic hand to a fumbling Robin, “Come on!”

“Wait, wait!” Lucas and Dustin run up to Steve, Dustin holding up one hand, the other pointing, “Look,”

Billy had physically loosened his strength on your shirt, and his eyes now bored into yours in a mixture of confusion, surprise, and fear. You gasp in a deep breath as you stared back, eyes burning from the tears that threatened to spill

The roar of the MindFlayer jerks Billy’s head up, seeing that the MindFlayer was now leaning over Billy, who hovered over you, and Billy pushes away from the ground to sit back on his knees, standing up to face the MindFlayer,

You sit up onto your elbows, Steve running up behind you and grabbing your arms, pulling you back to hide behind one of the concrete posts and cover your head with a hand,

You’re not quite sure what happened after that. Billy was dead, for sure, being murdered by the MindFlayer straight to the chest. Jim Hopper was dead, too. The portal had exploded, your mother claimed that Jim was no where to be found. Two lives were lost that night.

“You okay?” You and Steve sat in the middle of your bedroom, piles of folded clothes, boxes, and little accessories litering the carpet floor,

You look up from where you folded a pair of jeans, Steve lowering the shirt he was folding to stare at you,

Your lip had begun to heal, the paramedic claiming that a scar could be possible where the cut split into your chin,

“Yeah,” You nod, setting the jeans into the box and picking up the picture frames beside you, dragging a box labeled ‘Fragile’ up to you, “I’m just thinking,”

“About what?” Steve move the box of jeans to scoot up closer to you, waiting for you to close the fragile box before taking your hands,

“Everything,” You release a breathy laugh, swallowing down the lodge in your throat, “Everything with the Upside Down, losing Bob last year, us. We’ve made so many memories here in Hawkins, so many fights, so many sleepovers with the party. I’m not ready to leave it behind,”

“I know,” Steve sighs, your head looking down before raising when he curls a hand beneath your jaw, “Hey, we’re gonna be okay,” Steve smiles, “We got this. Just you and me, Y/N and Steve,”

“That rhymed,” You snort, Steve rolling his eyes,

“Move in with me,” Steve murmurs, and you almost don’t hear it even though his nose is touching yours,

“What?” You lean back, slightly, meeting his eyes for any signs of a joke,

“Move in with me. We’re both over eighteen, you’re an adult now, and my parents love you, they’d love for you to live with us,” Steve suggests, standing at you,

“But what about my mom?” You breathe, shakily, “My brothers?”

“Y/N, you can’t always depend on your brothers to be there,” Steve admits, honestly, “Jonathan’s gonna want to move out soon, too. Your mom needs to remember you’re not a baby anymore,”

“Do you really think your parents will let me stay?” You ask, Steve smiling and shrugging a shoulder,

“I already talked to them. It’s all up to you and you mom, babe,”

You inhale a deep breath, looking around at the boxes surrounding you. You nod, standing up, “I’ll be right back,”

You step into the hallway of your now empty house, making your way to the kitchen where you knew your mother was packing silverware, “Mom?”

Joyce looks up from lowering glass plates into a cushioned box, smiling softly at your figure, “Hey, sweetie. You and Steve almost done packing?”

“We have a couple more boxes left,” You answer, quietly, stepping further into the kitchen, “Mom, can I talk to you?”

Joyce closes the box with tape, scribbling ‘fragile’ on the cardboard before looking back up at you, “Sure, sweetheart, what is it?”

She notices your jaw shift from biting down on your tongue, a habit of worry you’ve gained when you were younger. You fiddle with your hands, before meeting her eyes, “I think I want to move in with Steve,”

Joyce blinks, slowly at your words, and you can see the gears in her head moving, “Are you sure?”

You suck in another breath, nodding, quickly, “I’m sure. I really love him, mom. I don’t think I could handle leaving, and I love Hawkins so much. I’m nineteen, I think it’s time for me to leave the nest,”

“I know,” Joyce blinks again, wiping away the tear that escaped her eye, “I know you’re not my little girl anymore, and I guess I need to accept it,” She smiles, nodding, “You can move with Steve,”

“Seriously?” You gasp, Joyce laughing when you round the table to embrace her, “Thank you, so much,”

“I love you sweetheart,” Joyce wraps her arms right around your back, sniffling, “I better get phone calls weekly,”

“Yes mom,” You lean back, Joyce cupping the side of your face delicately,

“I need to tell your brothers,” Joyce sighs, looking towards the open door where Will and Jonathan were loading boxes into the Uhaul with the party,

“I’m going to let Steve know,” You pull away from her, almost skipping back to your bedroom at the end of the hall,

Steve notices your wide and teary smile, standing up so he was eye to eye with you, “So...?”

“I’m moving in with you,” You walk up to him, Steve smiling and pulling you against his chest, lips pressing to your temple, longingly,

“I love you,” He whispers, hearing the footsteps of your brothers, “I know it’s going to be hard leaving them,”

You smile, leaning back in time for Will to stand at your bedroom door, eyes watering, “You’re not coming with us?”

“Hey buddy,” You tug on Wills arm to sit him beside you on your bare mattress, your arms sliding around his shoulders and pulling him against you, “It’s time for me to go out on my own,”

“But what about,” Will looks at Steve and Jonathan, then back to you, “What about when I have nightmares from the Upside Down?”

“Then you can call me, always,” You squeeze him tighter, sniffling, “I’ll give you the number to Steve’s house phone, if you ever need me, no matter what for, call me,”

“It’s gonna be weird with only one girl around the house now,” Jonathan presses his lips together in a tight smile, looking at Steve, “Hurt her and I’ll drive back how many hours to beat your ass,”

“Don’t doubt it,” Steve grins, and looks over when Joyce steps into the bedroom,

“We’re set to leave,” She informs, quietly, noticing Wills tears, “Oh honey, I know it’s hard not having Y/N come with us,” She moves forward, arms wrapping around you and her youngest, “But it’s gonna be okay, we’ll always come down for holidays and vise versa,”

“Love you mom,” You sigh weakly, leaning into her shoulder. Her arm around you tightens, before she leans back and wipes her cheek,

“I set the keys on the kitchen counter,” She looks at Steve, “You two can finish packing your things, lock the door when you leave,”

“No problem Ms. Byers,” Steve plays a salute, and Joyce smiles, standing up to her feet,

“We should get going,” After fifteen minutes of constant hugs between the party, you wave to the car and Uhaul driving off, your waves becoming more frantic before they turn a corner, out of sight,

“Ready?” Steve extends his hand, to lead you back into the house to finish packing. Your eyes look down at his hand then up to your childhood home, before you take his hand in yours, to the beginning of a new life in Hawkins.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington #steve harrington one shot #will byers #will byers x reader #joyce byers #joyce byers x reader #jonathan byers #jonathan byers x reader #stranger things #stranger things x reader #billy hargove x reader #billy hargrove

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andrewmoocow · 4 years ago

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Steven Universe Alternate Future chapter 17: Together Forever (originally posted on July 5, 2021)

AN: Welcome back my loyal readers! Sorry to keep you all waiting these past few months, but I know the wait will really be worth it. The final two parts of Alternate Future might be some of my greatest writings yet, and I'm more than excited to share it all with you starting today. Now without further ado….

Synopsis: Steven tries to become Connie's official boyfriend.

Cast:

Zach Callison as Steven

Estelle as Garnet

Charlyne Yi as Ruby

Erica Luttrell as Sapphire

Deedee Magno-Hall as Pearl

Grace Rolek as Connie

Dee Bradley Baker as Lion

Kimberly Brooks as Cherry Quartz

Noël Wells as Black Rutile

Featuring Ray Chase as George Ikari

Pearl stood in line at the Buddwick Public Library alongside many other parents and parental figures like her, waiting as a bearded, glasses-wearing Japanese-American man signed books at a table.

"Hey, you wouldn't happen to not be from around here, right?" a single dad standing behind Pearl asked her.

"Well, technically yes," Pearl informed the father. "I come from a planet of beings similar to myself who are all based around gemstones, which explains my appearance. Also, just last week I helped save your world from a sociopathic revolutionary, so you're welcome."

"You foreigners say the craziest things!" the father giggled in disbelief of Pearl, who just groaned flatly as the line began to pick up.

Eventually, Pearl was at the front of the line and now face to face with childcare author George Ikari, who had his fingers clasped together as he gazed at Pearl.

"Let me guess, you are here because of your own son, daughter, or whatever pronouns your child prefers to be dubbed?" George asked Pearl while he took out another copy of his book, titled "When Your Child Wants Time Apart", to sign for the Gem.

"Well, he's not really my son, but Steven is the closest thing my team, the Crystal Gems, have to one after his mother died giving birth to him." Pearl explained as George got to signing. "And that's not even getting into the fact that his mother was a former despotic alien conqueror who grew tired of her life and the constant neglect from her fellow despots, so she faked her death because of how much she valued your planet as part of a big war, then thousands of years later she met a rock star and fell in love with him before they consummated their relationship and she gave up her physical form to give birth to Steven."

George just stared in shock at Pearl's tale before she tried to continue. "And just last week, there was this other Gem with a vendetta against Steven's mother who tried to destroy the planet and kill us a-"

"Stop." George commanded Pearl with a raise of his hand before handing over the signed book. "Just take the book and leave. Your tales are holding up the line."

"What did I tell ya, foreigners say the craziest things!" the single father from before laughed.

"I'm deeply sorry Mr. Ikari, it's just that Steven has been going through some rough times lately." Pearl apologized to the author.

"I completely understand miss." George said while pulling out his phone to show Pearl a picture of his own son, a young man with scruffy brown hair, a white dress shirt, and a nervous expression on his face. "My son Shane has had his fair share of troubles ever since his mother died, troubles that he insisted on running away from rather than facing them maturely."

"Just like Steven." Pearl compared the two boys sympathetically. "I am deeply sorry for your loss sir."

"Thank you for your kindness." George smiled, putting away his phone. "The best thing I feel could work for a situation like this is to let things play out and discuss his problems when the time is right."

"Thank you very much George." Pearl thanked the author as she finally began to leave the library with her new book in hand. "Though I doubt that'll be of any use to Steven."

Not too far away from the library, Steven was sitting in his room talking to Connie on the phone while she was on her study break.

"Wow Connie, looks like you got all this college stuff figured out." Steven laughed with his dear human friend over his phone.

"I've got a whole plan figured out for early admission into the University of Jayhawk, but I'm still not sure about my major," Connie explained to Steven. "Maybe I should major in political science and minor in sociology, or perhaps the other way around."

"Did all our galactic adventures together get you interested in politics?" Steven asked.

"Maybe." Connie chuckled. "But I'm thinking more down to earth, as far as long-term careers go." As the two laughed at Connie's pun, the timer on her phone began to go off. "Wow, fifteen minutes went by pretty fast."

"Aw man, these study breaks are too short." Steven complained before he realized something. "Hey wait, you left a brochure at my place last time." He stated, pulling out a brochure for Connie's college of choice to show her. "You want it back?"

"It's alright Steven, I still have two more, and the Internet too." Connie answered smiling.

"Oh, right." Steven realized. "Well, call me when you still wanna hang out, okay?"

"You know I will, silly!" Connie beamed. "Okay, for real now, bye!"

After Connie ended the call, Steven turned over on his back and gazed at the brochure in his hands. "The University of Jayhawk, huh?" he muttered to himself. "And how far is that from here?" Steven then opened up the brochure to learn how far the distance between Beach City and the university's location in Kansas was. "Oh, that far."

Once again, Steven began to glow pink as he sadly sank into his bed, fretting over how little often he'd be able to see Connie regularly. Gazing at his rose-colored hand, he then started pondering on whether he should do something about this new condition, as he had been thinking about since the titanic battle with Black Rutile.

Soon, Steven had decided to get up off his bed and walk downstairs, to which he found Garnet standing in the living room dressed in a hat and kerchief. "Oh Garnet, you're still here?"

"Steven." Garnet greeted Steven tersely.

"I could really use your advice right now." Steven declared racing over to the fusion. "It's about-"

"Not right now Steven, I gotta split." Garnet cut Steven off before un-fusing into Ruby and Sapphire.

"I'm terribly sorry Steven, but I'm running late for my lecture on alternate timelines." Sapphire apologized while taking off the scoutmaster's hat and giving it to Ruby, along with a kiss on the cheek, before racing off to her lecture. "See you soon!"

"Sapphire might be going, but you still got good ol' Ruby to talk to." Ruby said to Steven as she went to fetch a backpack. "Let's walk and talk scout, I got things to do."

"Oh, okay." Steven agreed as he followed Ruby to the Warp Pad, and the two set off.

Later that day, Steven had joined Ruby's class, consisting of Onion, Zebra Jasper, and Little Larimar, as they strolled through the woods on a gorgeous afternoon. When the class got to a good stopping point near a stump, Ruby hopped up on the stump to speak. "Okay everyone, you remember what we learned last week, right?" she asked her students. "Well, today is the day! Brace yourselves, 'cause today we're sketching nature and the animals around us!"

Onion and his Gem classmates excitedly took out their notepads to draw on as Ruby continued. "Draw to your heart's content scouts!" Ruby declared. "Feel the beauty of everything around you, and you'll have the honor of receiving this Nature Sketching Badge!" She then presented a patch depicting a paint palette and brush in front of depictions of a wolf and a bird. "Got that? Now get to drawing!"

As soon as the three pupils left to go draw the beauty of nature around them, Ruby took it as her cue to jump down from the stump to talk with Steven. "So, what did you need Garnet for?"

"It's about Connie." Steven admitted to the small red Gem. "Every time I talk with her, I feel like she knows exactly what to do with her life, mostly thanks to her parents, and I don't. When we're together as Stevonnie, I feel so ready for anything, but on my own, I feel so lost. Just, what do I want with life?"

"That's tough Steven." Ruby declared sympathetically.

"Exactly!" Steven replied. "Connie is gonna go super far away for college, and I'm gonna be stuck here in Beach City where barely anything can go right for me nowadays and I don't know what to do about them! I want to be with Connie forever, like how you and Sapphire are basically together forever as Garnet!" That was when he came to a conclusion. "Wait, if I want to be together with Connie, then she's my future!"

Steven's revelation made Ruby super excited, and she began scuttling in place with stars in her eyes, her rapid footsteps creating a small fire beneath her feet. "STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN STEVEN!" she cheered, but stopped short once she noticed the fire she created. "Oh my gosh, one sec!" Ruby quickly ran off and came back with a towel that she used to put it out. "Anyways, STEVEN, YOU GOTTA PROPOSE!"

"Wait, propose?!" Steven exclaimed in shock. "But, we're only teenagers, we can't get married yet! But then again…"

"Don't say you haven't thought of it!" Ruby added cheerfully. "Besides, aren't there couples in this country that get married at 18 or something?"

"Y-yeah, I thought of it." Steven began blushing, which he tried to hide within his jacket. "I mean, we just had this discussion."

"Well, what are you waiting for?!" Ruby yelled happily while jumping up and grabbing onto his head. "DO IT, DO IT, DO IT! DO IT LIKE YOUR LIFE DEPENDS ON IT!"

"Are you still really sure?" Steven asked the overly eager Gem. "As I said, Connie and I are still only teenagers."

"C'mon, we told you about how it worked for Sapphire and I." Ruby responded. "And if you're successful, you'll have the honor of receiving this!" She presented Steven with a badge depicting one figure popping the question to another. "The Proposal Badge! And if you're not so sure, well, seeing the future would be really helpful here."

Steven gasped, knowing just who Ruby was implying.

Far away from Ruby, Sapphire sat down with her class, made up of the Watermelon Tourmaline fusion, two of the Nephrites, Orange Spodumene, Cherry Quartz, and Angel Aura Quartz, while drawing lines in the sand with a stick.

"Okay class, let's begin our lesson." Sapphire announced to her students when she spotted Steven racing towards her with a big smile on his face. "Ah, Steven. I've been expecting you."

"Hi, Sapphire." Steven greeted Sapphire. "I'm sorry to interrupt your class, but I got big news! I've been thinking about my future with Connie lately, and a chat with Ruby convinced me that I should propose!"

"Wait, don't you have to wait until you're a grown-up to do that?" Cherry Quartz inquired with a raise of her hand.

"Let me guess, you're here because of my future vision?" Sapphire asked. "Let's run the numbers then." She then let Steven stand next to her before beginning to speak to her class. "Okay class, let's review what we've learned today." She began while drawing complex math equations in the sand. "Using the concepts we discussed so far, let us calculate the probability of Steven succeeding in asking Connie to marry him. Let's begin with the probability that she'll want to spend her life with someone, and then we'll multiply that by the differential factor in sociocultural marriage acceptance. Next, we multiply that by a possibly happy cohabitation, the factor of fear of engagement, the intensity of the love you share, and finally the robustness of your goals in life." As Sapphire finished her equation, she finally turned back to Steven. "Are you following so far, Steven?"

"Uh, maybe?" Steven answered as he stared at the equation Sapphire had jotted down for him in the sand, but it wasn't long before the ocean tides began to wash them away. "Oh no, your work!"

"And there we have it." Sapphire declared with a chuckle. "Don't you get it, Steven? My marriage to Ruby, our fusion as Garnet, it eluded my future vision for so long, defied the odds, and perhaps even changed the course of time itself!" she declared encouragingly. "We could just write equations in the sand all day, but then a wave of chance can come crashing in and wash everything away! Love is truly unquantifiable! Even with my gift of clairvoyance, I know far better than anyone that love can make the impossible possible! And that is why I say do it! Do it, Steven, just do it!"

"Yeah, you're right!" Steven began getting pumped up before turning to Sapphire's class. "Get one last good look at me, everyone, because after today you're gonna be calling me Steven Quartz Cutie Pie DeMayo Diamond Universe-Maheswaran!"

The class began cheering vibrantly, bringing a big smile to Steven's face as he finally realized what his future now held.

As the afternoon slowly began to give way to evening, Ruby and Sapphire reunited by rushing towards each other on the sand, excited about the big proposal.

"Steven told me first, and I led him to you!" Ruby cheered, spinning her little blue wife around by the waist.

"I told him to go for it!" Sapphire laughed. "Oh, it's going to be so wonderful!"

As the two fused back into Garnet, she stood still for a few moments, contemplating her components' decisions before coming to one of her own. "I take full responsibility for their actions." Just then, Garnet heard footsteps and found Pearl walking behind her, her pointy nose stuck in a book. "Pearl, I'm guessing you want to see me about the book you're reading."

"I was just thinking about calling up you and Amethyst," Pearl announced as her gaze turned from the pages to her leader. "Where's Steven?"

"Oh, nothing much," Garnet answered. "Just going to make a rash decision that'll emotionally damage him in the long run."

"Oh, that's ni-" Pearl began before she did a double-take. "WAIT, WHAT?!"

As for Steven, he was too busy getting ready for an evening with Connie without a care in the world, picking up a cake from Spacetries that said 'Together forever!' on it, buying some flowers from Crazy Lace Agate, lighting up the glow bracelet that brought him & Connie together to begin with and dressing up in some nice clothes. If all goes well, he would soon become Steven Quartz Cutie Pie DeMayo Diamond Universe-Maheswaran.

Meanwhile, at Connie's house, Connie kept on studying for the University of Jayhawk when she heard a roar coming from outside her window. Walking over to the window, she discovered Steven parked outside her home with Lion by his side.

"Evening Connie, how are you doing?" Steven asked his ladylove.

"Steven?" Connie replied. "What are you doing here, and why are you all dressed up like that?"

"You got a fifteen-minute study break in two minutes, right?" Steven inquired, gazing at his watch to check if his timing is correct.

"Whoa, spot-on!" Connie exclaimed, gazing at her phone to learn that he was indeed right. "So, what did you come here for?"

"You want to go for a walk with me?" Steven offered. "I'm sure you could use some fresh air."

"That's very sweet Steven." Connie smiled. "I'd really love to, but I-"

"Don't worry, we can take Lion, and then I'll bring you home in fifteen!" Steven declared with a thumbs up.

"Okay, let's do this!" Connie accepted the offer and left her room to meet Steven outside, taking a moment to tell her parents along the way. "Bye Mom and Dad, I'm spending my study break with Steven!"

Once Connie was out the door, she and Steven mounted on Lion's back and he ran away from the Maheswaran residence.

"Remember when we first met here?" Steven asked Connie as they dismounted from Lion and began walking down the beach.

"You mean when you tried riding a bike in the sand and then started running away screaming?" Connie replied with a chuckle.

"Yeah, I was trying to get your attention." Steven added.

"Last I remember, I was more focused on my book than your silly antics." Connie stated.

"Well, that all happened right here." Steven declared, gesturing to a picnic at the very spot where he and Connie first met all those years ago. "You like what I have here?"

"Steven!" Connie exclaimed in awe at the picnic set before them. "I don't know what to say! I also can't believe you still remember this exact spot!"

"I just remember it like it was yesterday!" Steven exclaimed just as eagerly before running over to a nearby rock to sit on.

"This is too cute." Connie squealed while blushing.

"And without further ado," Steven announced as he picked up a guitar to play while Connie sat down. "There's something very important that I'd like to tell you today." With that, he started strumming the guitar and began to sing. "I'd rather be tall, I'd rather be smart, I'd rather be sure you know I care." He sang for Connie. "Wherever you go, wherever you start, I'd rather be sure you know I'm there. I'd rather I always be a part of whatever you do. I'd rather be me, with you."

Although Connie was a little turned off by the deeper meaning of Steven's song, she chose to just keep those feelings hidden to not hurt Steven's while he continued singing. "Wherever we go, I already trust, I'd know what to do if it were us. I'd know what to say, I'd know how to be, I'd know your entire syllabus." Steven continued as the song reached its climax. "I can't think of any other thing in the world that I would rather do. If I could be, I'd rather be me with you."

"Oh Steven, that's so beautiful!" Connie applauded the love song. "If a little unsettling, but I'd rather not say it out loud because-" Steven then got down on one knee and presented him her old glow bracelet. "Huh?"

"Connie, will you marry me?" Steven popped the question at last.

"Come again?" Connie asked, completely taken off guard by such a proposal.

"Let's get married and live together as Stevonnie, just like Garnet!" Steven reiterated for his possible wife.

"Are you serious?" Connie chuckled at the marriage proposal. "I think we should talk about this first."

"You might think I'm being sentimental, but this makes sense!" Steven exclaimed. "I don't know what you'll be studying, but I'm sure Stevonnie will! We can go to Jayhawk together!"

"I really appreciate this little date, but come on! You're still young!" Connie said as she stood up. "And acting a little clingy, I might add." She added under her breath.

"What was that?" Steven asked Connie.

"Nothing!" Connie lied. "Like I said, we're still young. And even if some couples get married at like, eighteen, I don't think we're fit to be one of those."

"So, you don't want to be Stevonnie with me?" Steven asked despondently, but Connie was there to comfort him.

"Of course I'd want to be Stevonnie, but I'd like to be my own person too," Connie answered reassuringly. "You get that, right?"

"Yeah, but," Steven began while putting the bracelet away as Connie hugged him. "Is it a no?"

"I'd say it's not right now." Connie answered.

"But if we're going to spend our lives together, why didn't you say it now?" Steven kept on inquiring fretfully.

"We got plenty of time." Connie declared, moving on from hugging Steven to holding his hands. "Don't you worry."

"I'm not worried, honest." Steven tried correcting his best friend. "I'm just happy when I'm with you."

"I'm happy around you too." Connie replied. "It's just that-" Before Connie could finish, the alarm on her phone went off. "Oh snap, my alarm!" she yelped in realization while pulling her phone out. "Forget studying right now, I don't think it matters."

"But it does matter to you!" Steven yelled.

"And you're just as important!" Connie responded, beginning to notice Steven getting more stressed out.

"I'm fine, we can talk about it later." Steven began rapidly panting. "Look, Lion's still right there, you can go now."

"Are you sure Steven?" Connie wondered sympathetically. "You're looking a little on edge. Maybe I can hook you up with a good therapist. She's a good friend of my mom named Dr. Rebe-"

"I'm sure I'm fine." Steven cut Connie off. "Now go."

"Okay." Connie obliged before giving Steven a goodbye hug. "I'll call you again tomorrow at noon." She said before walking towards Lion to have him take her home.

"Have fun studying!" Steven continued putting up a happy front as he bid Connie farewell. But as soon as she was out of sight, that front completely fell. "Nobody I love ever wants to stay."

With that, Steven fell back-first to the sand and turned pink, the resulting impact ruining the nice picnic around him as he wallowed in a crater of his sadness, and stayed there for the rest of the day.

Many hours later, Steven kept on lying in the crater long into the night with tears in his eyes, and when he finally decided to get up, Garnet was there waiting for him with the picnic basket containing the cake still intact.

"I assume it didn't go well." Garnet theorized as she helped Steven up from the crater and began walking him home.

"I don't get it," Steven muttered cynically. "Ruby and Sapphire said I should go for it, and I did, but everything went wrong."

"I apologize on their behalf," Garnet stated. "You just can't trust love advice from hopeless romantics like those two."

"Then why didn't you stop me?" Steven asked the fusion.

"I couldn't see a future where you didn't try proposing to Connie," Garnet answered. "However, there were quite a few where after she said no, you forced her to fuse with you and subsequently went insane."

"Of course." Steven moaned. "Even in alternate timelines, nothing can ever go right for me."

"Don't be so hard on yourself." Garnet comforted her half-human ward with a hug to the side. "Your soulmate should be your complement, not a missing piece. Ruby and Sapphire may deeply love each other, but they still have their own thoughts, feelings, and lives." The pair soon reached the beach house and sat down on the steps together. "Whatever hole you have in your life Steven, I want you to know that Connie or Stevonnie might not fill it."

"It's just that you guys make it so easy!" Steven revealed as he took the basket from Garnet. "Can't believe I'm saying this, but it's kinda your fault for being so dang perfect!"

"I know you're upset Steven, and I take responsibility for your plight," Garnet apologized to Steven. "but blaming others as much as you blame yourself won't help."

"Then maybe shoving this adorable cake in my face will!" Steven declared as he opened the picnic basket to reveal that the cake was in pieces.

"It probably won't." Garnet deadpanned, but Steven didn't listen and started eating the broken cake anyways.

"Well, I'm still gonna do it!" Steven exclaimed, his mouth now full of cake.

"I know," Garnet added as she gazed up at the sky. However, what she didn't catch was a fly buzzing around her and Steven, and its green eyes started blinking.

"Ah, romance. So utterly futile." Black Rutile grimaced as she watched the live footage of Steven drowning his sorrows in cake through a hard light welding mask. "Still, all that trauma could be useful in the future."

As Black Rutile was spectating on Steven's pain, she was hard at work on her plans for revenge, using a blowtorch to put together the final touches on a special wrist-mounted device. Once she was done, the villainous Rutile aimed the device at a rock carved into the exact shape of White Diamond's gem and fired. The resulting blast destroyed the rock and left a massive cloud of ash where it once was, but she wasn't satisfied with the smattering of pebbles that once made up the rock.

"Hm, need to work on the disintegration aspect a bit more." Black Rutile pondered while retracting the welding mask into her visor and began going back to the drawing board.

Guess who's back? Back again? Black Rutile's back, she's no friend! And on that rather sad turned ominous note, we conclude the first chapter of Part 3. Now that we have Steven's romance issues out of the way, expect to see the following in the coming chapters, in no particular order.

Garnet, Amethyst and Pearl re-enact Ace Attorney while Steven becomes even more scarred for life.

Viva Los Diego! Lapis & Amethyst get involved with a James Bond parody, Garnet & Bismuth solve mysteries together with a police officer who's basically the Plumber from Ratchet and Clank, Pearl matches wits with a snooty film director who's like Michael Bay, David Cage, Neil Druckmann & Zack Snyder in one, and Peridot tries promoting her CPH reboot.

Steven hangs out with Spinel and plays basketball with Wolverine.

Peridot finally gets her own song.

Jasper finally gets her own song.

A certain Stevonnie-chasing jerk dares Steven to reform him.

And finally, Black Rutile plays a role in a certain event in Fragments, the final chapter of this part.

Have I gotten your interest yet? Good, cause strap in everyone, it's gonna be nuts.

#steven universe #steven universe future #fanfiction #steven universe alternate future #steven quartz universe #connie maheswaran #garnet #ruby #sapphire #pearl #lion steven universe #black rutile

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serendipitioussurvival · 5 years ago

Text

This little Alpha of Mine

Another Steter au.. thing. enjoy~

Fem!Stiles/Peter Hale, Werecreature!Stiles

Half the population of Beacon Hills was overwhelmed with horror and pity when the Beacon County Sherrif’s office posted the missing person notice of one Maczysz ‘Max’ Stilinski. Her vehicle had been found in the parking lot of the Preserve lake with busted windows and blood coating the door and seats. Of course, the public didn’t know about the blood, Hale Pack had cleaned it up for John so there wouldn’t be any questions about why it looked more like a crime scene instead of a case of abduction.

That isn’t to say that Hale pack was completely calm, either. All eight of them, plus a young Scott McCall, his mother, and Jeorek ‘John’ Stilinski were hit with multiple levels of frustration and worry that only grew to be more so with the more time that passed. The few tips the police department did get proved to be mostly duds and, after a week of her being gone with no credible lead, her case went cold. The deputies and police still looked for her, of course, they just weren’t expecting to find her alive.

The pitying looks John got from work almost drove him to drink again, the knowledge that his daughter would come back from the grave just to kick his ass if he ever picked up the bottle again was the only thing that kept him from going back down that path. Scott, who had gotten into fights regularily when people said they were sorry for his loss, refused to believe that she was dead, never stopped looking. Hale Pack, too, had his back with this assessment, especially when Peter told them that they would be able to feel it if she were dead, through their pack bonds.

It had also caused a burning shame at the realization that only Scott, Isaac, Vernon, and Peter had pack bonds with the eccentric Stilinski. It had caused a rift in the pack for a few days before everyone swore to be better when they found her.

Sometimes that vow was what kept them all together.

It was only because of the wards Max had put up around the old Hale house that he had been able to dodge the attack from Ennis, giving him just enough time for the rage and fury that had been bubbling under his skin for the past month of her disappearance to come to the surface in a vicious arch of claws that easily gouged out the tissue and muscle of his right shoulder, rendering it obsolete - at least for a few moments.

They fought and fought until Ennis had his claws at Peter’s throat, sneering down at him in victory.

The next instant he was on the ground screaming in fury and pain as a Fox / Coyote hybrid tore at the back of his neck with its teeth, platinum coat with russet furs scattered like a blush on its forehead and spine and black patches on its ears and in the center of its tail. It growled and gnawed until his spinal cord snapped and his screams had long since died, it continued after for good measure until his head was completely removed from his body. A fitting slow death for the murderous bastard if Peter did say so himself.

He did not move when it turned its blood coated maw to him, licking at its chops with lowered ears as if it didn’t approve of the taste. Well, that bode(bade?) well for him, didn’t it?

Or so he thought until the hybrid approached him and gave a long lick to one of the healing wounds on his arm. He seized when an accompanying growl came from the door, a Coyote flashing brilliant blues in warning, jerking back only when his flashed back.

“How incredibly unhygienic,” he mused, brow-raising when she huffed in amusement and licked at another one of his wounds across his chest, speeding the healing of his wounds. “And who is the Princess Charming to my oh so elegant Damsel in distress?” a low whine that time, accompanied by her ears pricking up at the various footsteps rushing towards them (from yards away but that only secured his theory further). She gave a single growl like yip at the Coyote at the door, nuzzled her nose against Peter’s neck, and promptly left out the back with her Coyote friend in tow.

Something that interested him considering Fox’s weren’t pack animals. If she truly was a hybrid werefox/coyote then it would make sense as to why she was accompanied by a werecoyote, they tended to hunt in pairs and stay in family groups. She had understood him too and then scented him in a very intimate way. Regardless, she had saved his life - Max would’ve killed him if he died before finding her - and had lowered the threat of the Alpha pack that had made its way to Beacon Hills.

He wasn’t expecting to see her again, but he did.

Right as the second month passed after Max had gone missing Isaac and Scott had the great idea of forcing the Werecoyote to shift, thinking her a Malia Tate who had gone missing when she was eight or so with her little sister. He had found out too late, and thus was coming onto the scene of Isaac and the hybrid staring at one another, hunkered to the ground as if she were afraid with shrill whines leaving her maw. When Scott’s roar sounded through the forest her Alpha red’s flashed and a shrill howl left her. It wasn’t in challenge, it wasn’t even in answer, no it was released in grief at the loss of a pack member.

“No, wait-!” he tried, but the moment he took a step forward she was bolting into the woods, disappearing just as a shirtless Scott cleared the tree lines, escorting a very unsteady teenage girl with his shirt on. Her nose rose in the air when the wind blew, whining low. “You’re an idiot,” Peter cursed Scott, then blinked when she rushed to him, stumbling slightly over her own feet, and buried her face into his bicep to try and smother herself in his scent. “You just broke a pack up, if you were going to do this to the one you should’ve done it to the other.” He didn’t bother to try and explain why she was relaxing at his smell - didn’t quite understand it either honestly - and didn’t even think when he wrapped his arm around her protectively.

He didn’t know who either of them was but they had saved his life and that was something he wouldn’t forget. Not when they could be potential pack members, not when something was nagging at the back of his head about both of them.

“The other one?” Scott questioned numbly, looking pained as the small victory was taken from him. “Isaac, what other one?”

“There was another one, Scott, an Alpha. It uh, it looked like a Fox, coyote, wolf thing.” he was rubbing at his chest with a frown. “I don’t know about this one man, Peter’s right. She sounded so… sad.” Malia whimpered when she looked over the forest line, then buried deeper when she couldn’t catch sight of her den mate.

When she was safely stowed away in the back of John’s police cruiser she immediately began trying to get to the picture of Max and John standing together smiling on his dash. Peter didn’t understand why until she began whimpering in earnest and trying to form words that she no longer remembered how to properly form. “Max,” it sounded like she was saying it around food in her mouth, but the name was there. “Maaaax.” her fingers wiggled through the little metal railings that separated the back and front of the police cruiser.

“Of course,” Peter hissed, drawing together the points and small observations he had made along with his theories. “Max!” and then he was shedding his clothes and launching into the air, shifting so that he could chase after her faster than his two legs would carry him. He searched all night and all the next day but found no trace of her. The pack even joined him the next night, Derek having ‘appropriated’ the memory Malia had of Max. Derek actually trusted his uncle to view the memories he had seen, especially since it had to deal with Max.

Turns out Malia had watched her face off against Kali - the one who had drug Max (she had a lot of cuts and smelled mostly of ozone and blood) through her window and presumably broke the others - and use her Spark to send rose vines through her Silent Hill style before, at last, it decapitated her and drug her body to the earth to serve as food for the Nemeton. Malia had padded forward to initially eat Max but had been surprised by the way she faltered against the ground, clutching at her abdomen with red-stained skin, a fresh bite in plain view on her forearm. She was rapidly smelling like not food and more like her kind, so she waited.

Max had greeted the Werecoyote as her skin began to flush with fever. She told her briefly her name and how, if she were lucky, the bite would take and she’d get to be actual pack and wouldn’t die. Malia hadn’t understood, but Peter did, and so did Derek when he viewed the memory. It was their first clue in a long ass time-

It did nothing to alleviate the frustration, it only added to it actually. How could they not have thought that she would’ve been targeted by the Alpha pack, how could they not have assumed or thought about the fact that she could've been bitten or turned?

No, they didn’t see Max until she was saving Scott from the Darach who had tried to lunge at the newly appointed ‘True Alpha’, maw locked around her throat while her claws dug at her chest, trying for her heart. Deucalion and Peter were grateful for her savagery, were impressed by it, but Scott and Derek were too focused on the fact that she smelled like fury and grief. They were too focused that this was Max, that this was the smiling girl who was always cooking or baking for them, that was always comforting Erica and Vernon through their traumatic memories. This was the woman who was always scenting them, the one who had been the glue keeping them all together.

“Max,” Peter breathed, chest rumbling comfortingly when she rubbed her head against his neck, ears and tail hanging low with her building nerves.

“It seems,” Deucalion drawled as he crouched over the dead Darach, “that your friend is stuck in her shift.” he shoved his hand into the ragged flesh and tendon that Max had made of the Darach’s chest and ripped out her heart, then without so much as a secondary glance at the body, rolled the heart to the Hybrid. “If you eat that it will re-balance your energies and you’ll shift back.”

“I could just force her shift, I’ve done it before.” Scott protested, not trusting the Alpha of Alpha’s. Peter dug his hand into the fur of her flank and soothed her pitched growls. If Peter was surprised when she actually shifted to lean more into him then he didn’t show it outwardly, no he was focusing mainly on the fact that her pack bond came into full strength when she did.

“It won’t work on Max like it did with Malia,” Peter told him, kneeling so that he was at eye level with her. “She shifted as she was dying, the last of her Spark most likely is the reason she even turned.” he picked up the heart and stilled Max when she took a threatening step forward at Scott when he growled at Peter. “It’s okay,” he soothed, taking the fact that Scott had actually retreated with a groan when her amber red/orange Alpha eyes flashed at him. “Max, eat this, okay?”

It was only because it was him who had offered the heart to her that she was eating it, he knew this and it filled him with equal parts joy and smug arrogance. He was shrugging off his jacket and scarf the moment she finished eating, readying for when she shifted back and her inevitable nakedness.

“Was it under your orders that Kali attacked Max?” If his answer was yes then Peter would kill him himself.

“No,” a truth, “Kali regularly acted on her own, it does not surprise me that she met her end from one of her victims.” another truth, Scott flinched away.

“She killed Kali?” it was said in pain and hurt - as if she had done so to personally slight the teenager.

“Out of self-defense you idiot,” Peter hissed, eyes never leaving Max as she began scratching at her ears, whining low in her throat. “considering that she would’ve died if she were a human, I’d say it was completely justifiable. She killed Ennis too, saving my life, and that bitch over there saving your life.”

“Then I’ve been trying to recruit the wrong wolves.” Deucalion murmured, sitting down with a heavy sigh so as to accept whatever fate befell him now. Honestly… he was ready for death, he had his sight back and with the death of his pack - whose bonds he couldn’t even feel them die through - his anger was dimmed. He no longer had a purpose, no longer had a plan. If he were being completely honest he was relieved.

He joined them as they watched the hybrid shake and cry, lowering itself fully onto the floor with her body pressed as tight against Peter’s as she could get it. He was stunned when platinum fur receded into fair human skin dotted with moles and freckles like constellations. She was lanky, maybe five foot six at most, and had hair that reminded him of sunlight and laughter in a meadow that dropped to the middle of her back. She couldn’t be any older than eighteen,

“Peter?” It was guttural and high pitched and it was perfect. Her hands shook when they reached for his face, trembling even when her fingertips ghosted over his scruff. She was naked and lying half on top of his lap but she was back, her whine and relief hit him full force when he sank his cheek into her palm, jacket covering up her naked skin from their prying eyes. “Peter!” and then she was launching into him, limbs at awkward angles as they scrambled to try and find purchase so she could press completely into him. “PeterPeterPeter.” she whined, burying her nose into his neck to drown herself in his scent.

“I’ve got you, Max, I’m here.” he soothed, hefting her into his arms and against his chest to soothe both of them. He had gone so long without her that he had forgotten what it felt like to have her, forgotten her scent of Sandalwood and ozone, forgotten how her touch always sent warmth straight to his heart and relaxed him in ways he never thought possible. “I’m here.” he wasn’t going to let her go again, not after having lost her.

#Steter #Teen Wolf #female stiles #Stiles is female #Stiles is called Max #maczyszstilinski #Female Stiles name is Maczysz #Werecreature #creaturestiles #creature stiles #mature theme #brief nudity #implied nudity #honestly these are just story bits I've never really furthered #aha

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stereksecretsanta · 5 years ago

Text

Merry Christmas, @thedaughterofkings!

Hope you have a great Christmas and that your holiday season is wonderful!

Read on AO3

*****

Snowed Inn

Snowflakes buried the windshield, wiper blades barely able to keep up with the onslaught and the landscape was coated in white, almost to the point of whiteout. Derek had been slowing down how fast he drove for some time and time felt like it was moving at a crawl to Stiles. He had already gone through all his snacks, even the emergency ones, and his phone’s battery was looking to die within the next hour if he didn’t get somewhere to charge it. He’d been left with staring at Derek since there was nothing else to look at or so he claimed to Derek, it was true but not the entire truth. Being in love with a werewolf was hard when you had to come up with clever ways to avoid the truth while not telling outright lies that would give you away.

“Derek, we have to stop in the next town, this blizzard isn’t ending and some of us wouldn’t live through a crash. This wouldn’t be a problem if someone hadn’t insisted on using the Camaro instead of beautiful Roscoe, who has 4-wheel drive and could survive through anything.” Stiles said. He looked away and fiddled with the GPS instead of getting caught staring in eyes with colors in a pattern to rival kaleidoscopes.

“Stiles, the heat in your jeep broke before we had to go and we couldn’t waste any time staying in another pack’s territory just to get it fixed, if it could even be fixed that day. Boyd said he’d fix the damn thing for free if we left it so stop complaining about leaving it behind.” Derek said, briefly turning his head to Stiles and then looking back at the road. The snow was only getting worse and even werewolf reflexes wouldn’t help him drive if he couldn’t see a damn thing.

“My baby was just acting up for attention since you keep refusing to let me take us somewhere with it for a change.” Stiles said. They had hit the city limits and there were no other cars to speak of on the road, even a couple of street lights had gone out, everyone else already taking shelter to avoid the snowstorm. They get close to their temporary destination, only a minute or two at most.

“The last time I was in that thing, I was bleeding out to death and that’s the only way you’re getting me in that deathtrap ever again.”

“Roscoe is not a deathtrap; you just have no sense of taste. Turn right there, it’s the only decent inn in town according to the reviews I’m finding on my phone and we’re going to be stuck here overnight at least, maybe all of tomorrow too.”

Derek slowed to a crawl as he looked for a spot to park in the inn’s parking lot. “Fine but I’m paying. The last time I let you pay for something, you kept complaining about it for the next three weeks.” He saw what was probably the only available spot and pulled the car in. They both took their seatbelts off, Stiles flailing a little because he slipped a little and his one hand ended up on Derek’s leg, too close to his thigh for Stiles’ heartrate. Derek stiffened and Stiles moved his hand away fast, willing the blush to stay away from his face.

“Maybe if you had paid attention to the damn movie I wouldn’t have felt ripped off. Why did you even go with me to see that terrible werewolf movie if you weren’t going to pay attention to it?” Stiles said, keeping up the argument to distract from the slipup. “I thought it offended your werewolfy sensibilities to see how badly people see your kind and that you refused to see any more after the pack bad horror movie night.”

Derek moved quickly to get out of the car, Stiles following after, both with small bags full of essentials for the night, as they braved the snow to the entrance of the inn. Derek was silent on the walk, letting the conversation drop hard instead of respond. Garish lights proclaimed it the Full-Moon Inn, Stiles turning with a quip begging to be said only for Derek to cover his mouth with his hand. “Not a word, Stiles. Make one comment on this and I’ll bury you in the snow myself.”

Stiles licked Derek’s hand causing him to grimace and pull it back. “Who, me? Don’t be such a sourwolf, I’d never make a comment about the werewolf in a inn called Full Moon.” Derek glowered at that, opening the inn door a little harder than necessary.

He stomped to the front, Stiles following behind and said to the receptionist, “We’ll take two rooms for the night.”

“I’m sorry sir, we only have one room right now. We have a bunch of travelers staying here because of the storm and it is only good luck we even have the one still available. Will that be okay with you two?” The receptionist said. Looking between Derek with his serial killer impression on point and Stiles fidgeting away, the woman looked doubtful that it would be fine.

“We’ll take it.” Stiles chimed in to save the girl from Derek. “Come on, big guy,” Stiles patted Derek’s arm, lingering a second longer than necessary because he’s only human and anyone would so who could blame him. “Let’s get up to room and sleep. Trying to sleep in the Camaro is hell on my neck and a bed will be good for a change after this past week.” Stiles leaned his head away from Derek to crack it, a simple black mark on display with Derek staring at it like he usually does. Stiles wanted to know where Derek’s mark would be but that isn’t something you could just ask. The girl handed over the key to room 7 to Stiles, Derek pulling his wallet out to pay quickly to a sly grin from the receptionist before retreating after Stiles.

The duo made their way to the room, getting in with Stiles tossing his bag on the floor. “I claim first shower. I’ve got to reek by now after going without so long, dude.”

“Don’t call me dude. And you don’t smell that bad.” Derek said, walking to the bed and taking out a pair of pajama pants and a toothbrush. “Make sure to brush your teeth, your breath stinks like your nasty lacrosse gear after you practice with Scott.” Stiles gives him a dirty look at that before he closes the door behind him as an end to that conversation. Derek reads a book and then takes his turn in the shower, coming out with only a pair of pajama pants on. Stiles stares for a moment, then shakes himself and turns to face the bed instead of Derek.

“So…” Stiles begins and stops.

“We can share it, it’s not any different from pack nights.” Derek looks a little unsure, still staring at the bed as Stiles gets under the covers on one side of the bed.

“From the puppy piles?” Stiles settles finally with a small sigh, relaxing into the comfortable bed.

“Stiles, stop calling them that.” Derek grumps at Stiles.

“Never, sourwolf. Now hop into the bed and turn the light off while you are at it.” The two settle in for the night, both keeping strictly to their side. The rustle of clothes, change in breathing and rustle of more hair than is human tells Stiles that Derek had shifted into a wolf, probably to get as close as possible to the puppy piles back home as possible. It slightly hurt to think he would never sleep with him as a human but that was an old pain by now as sleep took him at that final thought.

Morning comes and Stiles feels a line of heat along his back and across his chest. He sighs and huddles a little more into the heat before a thought sparks in his head that this isn’t right. A quick inhale sounds next to his head before he feels a pair of lips gently kiss his neck, right on a mark that has laid dormant all his life. Most people had been born with such a mark somewhere and it never activates, never strikes so hard to the very soul of a person, that resonance of another soul that matches yours. People said it only works with soulmates in love and Stiles’ parents had been like that, his dad’s mark on his right hand and his mom’s mark on her shoulder. That is also something not right, he and Derek aren’t together and while he’s been pining away for years, Derek has never shown the same as far as Stiles has seen. Yet that small kiss kicked his heart into overdrive because of the brief flash, waking the werewolf up the rest of the way and to realize what he had just done. He bolted out of the bed, standing and fidgets a little, looking nervous but hopeful at the same time, something Stiles had seen only a couple times through the years. He keeps starting to open his mouth, only to close it again. After this routine for a couple of seconds, he makes a run for it to the bathroom but Stiles grabs his hand before he can get away. “What was that, Derek? I won’t let you run away without an answer. I’ve been pining away for years now and only find out now that you care that much?”

Derek takes the time to pull on his sweatpants, Stiles doesn’t know if he should mourn the loss of the sight of naked Derek or be thankful because that’s insanely distracting when they need to be having a serious conversation. Derek and feelings are already a risky mix, adding in him smelling just how hot Stiles finds him isn’t going to help things out.

“At first, you were too young.” Derek looks pained as he says that, the specter of Kate haunting him still to this day. He’s grown since then, the summer spent searching for Erica and Boyd (and subsequent rescue) was when Stiles realized how Kate had done what she had done and felt sick for days after that realization. It had taken the following years to finally get Derek to at least lower his burden of guilt for days at a time instead of hold tight to it every day. “Then it was never the right time and I thought you had a thing for that one new guy.”

“Josh? He’s a friend from college, Derek. He could never have competed with you and he wouldn’t be interested in me.” Stiles said.

“Given how he smelled around you, he was interested.” Derek’s lips curved down, his entire face darkening at the thought.

“Awww, no need to get jealous. You’ve always been the wolf for me. Now when did you fall in love, sappywolf, because that’s what it is if the mark flashed like that? Enough stalling about other people, I’m going to get that answer no matter what. It’s just a question of how long you can stand me annoying you to find out the answer.”

“You’re always annoying, Stiles.”

“Still annoyed my way into your heart, now give it up, Derek.”

“…That summer we were looking for Erica and Boyd.” Derek shifted uncomfortably.

“All the way back then?” Stiles eyes were wide open, mouth hanging open a little unattractively.

“Yes.” Derek crossed his arms in front of him with his answer.

“Damn, it took me a little longer to give up on denying it was just a crush. How long do we have this room for?” Stiles shook himself from his surprise, eyebrows waggling at the question.

“Til tomorrow.”

“Perfect, now get your furry ass over here because I have been wanting to climb you like a tree for years and now can do so, as long as you are okay with it because consent is very important and sexy and I don’t want to ignore…”

Derek interrupted before Stiles could wind himself up with anxiety. “It’s more than okay, Stiles. I’m ready for that too.”

#thedaughterofkings #stereksanta19 #*fic19 #*gits19

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phroyd · 5 years ago

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In what follows, I will be assuming that you are a person who wants to see Bernie Sanders elected President of the United States. If this is not something you want, this discussion will be of little value.

The task itself is clear and has two parts: At the Democratic convention in July of 2020, Bernie Sanders needs to be the nominated as the party’s candidate for president. Then, on November 3, 2020, Bernie Sanders needs to receive 270 electoral votes.

Personally, I think Part II will be easier than Part I, because in Part II Bernie Sanders has the luxury of running against a cartoon of an evil billionaire. This will “play to his strengths.” I think watching a debate between Bernie Sanders and Donald Trump will be an immensely satisfying experience, and that the people of Pennsylvania, Michigan, Ohio, and Wisconsin will be moved by Bernie’s comprehensive agenda for dealing with their day-to-day problems. I believe they will reject Donald Trump, because Donald Trump offers nothing but bigotry and bluster, and no one really likes or trusts him the way they like and trust Bernie.

How, then, do we make sure that he gets the Democratic nomination, and how do we do it without him having to destroy his body in the process by working himself to death?

First, let’s recognize: If you support Bernie, and really want to overthrow Trump, you have a job to do. The next year is going to be a busy one, and the next few months will be the busiest of all. Your job is to get as many people as possible to vote for Bernie Sanders, because the more you do on that front, the less of his finite energy he has to spend shouting himself hoarse at rallies in a cornfield outside Des Moines in the middle of January. Bernie should not need to be personally lobbying every voter in Iowa, because that’s what his supporters are for. That’s what you and I are for.

To understand the nature of the job ahead, it is helpful to keep in mind the distinction between mobilizing and organizing (see this interview with Jane McAlevey for more). Mobilizing is when you turn out those who already believe in a cause (all the antiwar people go to a protest). Organizing is when you go out and build the cause, converting people who did not already believe in it. So, what labor organizers do is: They find all the people at the workplace who do not believe in the union, or who are even vehemently against it, and they do the very slow and difficult work of bringing them on board, through long, empathetic conversations and by building relationships.

Think, then, of the entire universe of people you know who will be (or could be) eligible to vote in the 2020 Democratic primary. How many of them are you certain will vote for Bernie Sanders? The job ahead is to shift as many people from the “Don’t know” or “No” column on your sheet to the “Yes” column. (You can even make an actual list of this universe of people. And it should be the entire universe—coworkers, friends, second cousins, a person you met at a car show once but haven’t spoken to in four years.)

Now, what lies ahead involves both mobilizing and organizing. For the people who are already Bernie Sanders supporters, the job is to: (1) Make sure they are registered to vote and satisfy the eligibility requirements and (2) Make sure they actually do vote. Every time you successfully convince someone to support Bernie Sanders, you then have to switch from persuasion/organizing to activation/mobilizing. Supporting him in their brain means nothing without action. They might as well not support him at all. You’ve wasted your time unless they register to vote and actually do vote.

The success of Bernie Sanders is going to require a “nonvoter revolution.” His appeal is, in large part, not to party loyalists, but to the 70+ percent of people who did not vote in the primaries last time (and the nearly 40 percent of people who did not vote in the general election). These are the types of disillusioned voters my colleague Malaika Jabali has written about so well in “The Color of Economic Anxiety,” people who quite rightly and rationally do not see much point in voting and feel betrayed by politicians who make grand promises and deliver nothing.

Part of your job, then, is to convince jaded nonvoters that Bernie’s candidacy is worth believing in, and then getting them to actually cast a ballot. For nonvoters, this is especially urgent, because many states disenfranchise people by setting absurdly early registration deadlines for voting in primaries. If someone is unregistered, or registered as a Republican, you need to get them signed up now.

Here it’s important to discuss what it means to “get” someone to vote for Bernie Sanders. It does not mean being an obnoxious evangelist who never shuts up about Bernie. In fact, one of the most important aspects of the Sanders campaign is that it isn’t about Bernie, it’s about ordinary people and their problems. A main part of persuasion is going to involve being an empathetic listener rather than a preacher. This is supposed to be the campaign that listens, the one that actually cares what people think. Notice that the most effective Bernie ads barely feature Bernie at all: They feature people talking about their struggles, the kind of people Bernie’s presidency is going to help.

Long, difficult conversations. That’s what will be involved a lot of the time. You have to try to show another person why you feel so strongly that a Sanders presidency is important, and to have them come to share your perspective, but doing so will involve making sure you understand theirs as well. I think it is very important here not to be an uncritical adulator of Bernie Sanders. Frankly, there are votes he has made that I think are indefensible, and I find him frequently frustrating and in constant need of pressure from activists. I believe in his candidacy because I think he is the only person with anything close to a set of solutions to the problems people face today.

Know the issues, know the plans, try to figure out how to articulate why you feel so strongly the way you do. Those people in the video: Why is it that they trust Bernie so much? What is it that they see in him and in his campaign? What is it that Erica Garner saw in Bernie? (She, too, gave herself a heart attack as she fought tirelessly for justice.) What was it that felt so beautiful about the “America” ad? I think it had something to do with the uncommon and genuine respect that Bernie Sanders has for ordinary working people and the bitter contempt he has for those who dare to speak in the name of those people while betraying their interests.

Nobody should be written off immediately. It frequently turns out that the people who seem most resistant to persuasion, if you find the right “in road,” will eventually become some of the strongest supporters, if you give them a good reason. Political conversions happen every day, even of the most extreme kinds. (Take, for instance, that young white supremacist who slowly unlearned his hatred after spending time around anti-racists in college.) Of course, you need to prioritize your limited time. There are three categories of people:

People who like Bernie already and support him. — They need to be convinced to actually vote, and you need to make sure they are eligible. Then they, too, need to start working on doing exactly what you’re doing. Convince them to get active and to get others active. (It’s not a pyramid scheme, but it does take the shape of a pyramid, hah.)

People who are indifferent or don’t care about politics. — Why don’t they care about politics? What do they feel it’s not offering them? What would they want out of a president? You will do a lot more listening than talking, at least at first. (In fact, you may want to keep in mind Noam Chomsky’s point that you should be cautious about the entire idea of “persuading” people, because what you really want is for them to figure things out for themselves.)

People who dislike or despise Bernie. — Former Clinton people. Republicans. Etc. These will be far tougher conversations. But you can have them. Try very hard not to get upset. Be patient. Present your perspective rather than arguing. I think there is some truth to the fact that many Sanders supporters have been too hostile online. We need to see every person as a potential Sanders voter, and as such be careful not to needlessly antagonize them. Look at the case of Peter Daou. A die-hard Hillary supporter in 2016, one of Bernie’s fiercest critics, he has now come around. If this can happen to Peter Daou, then we do not know who else it could happen to. So don’t make fun of people and get them defensive and hostile. Set an example. Listen the way Bernie Sanders does when confronted by people who disagree. Bernie has made a commitment to listening to Trump voters and trying patiently to bring them around to a democratic socialist perspective. He goes on FOX and Joe Rogan, and he does well. (Look at the comments section on the Rogan video, people who disliked him come to see him as reasonable and honest.) Think strategically about everything: Is the way I am talking to this person increasing or decreasing the chance they will vote for Bernie Sanders? That is the question for the next few months. Bernie’s army of supporters must be disciplined and effective. No needless flame wars, no pointless hostility. We have a positive vision and we need others to share in it.

What I have been talking about so far is stuff you can do even if you can’t afford to donate $27, or can’t go knocking on doors or putting in signs or do phone banking. It is something you can do in day to day interactions with people around you. But of course, if you do have time and money, there is more. Get your ass off Twitter and get on a bus to Iowa or South Carolina. Sign up to volunteer wherever you are already. Put in a regular monthly donation. Get that sticker onto your car and that shirt onto your torso. The clock is ticking. There are novel ways that people can pitch in—that incredible ad contrasting media perspectives with “real America’s” perspectives? It was made by a fan, not the campaign. That fan made a choice: to use his time and skills and creativity to make something inspiring and effective.

There is another important thing you can do for Bernie Sanders: Work for candidates who are not Bernie Sanders. Remember: This movement is not about Bernie. It is about advancing a strong set of social democratic policies that will make this country and the world a better place. That cannot be done without having many more lefties in Congress and it state and municipal governments. There are all kinds of incredible candidates running at every level. Check out these lists for people in your area. I’ve recently met great candidates like Marguerite Green, a DSA member running for Agriculture Commissioner in Louisiana, and Rebecca Parson, running for Congress in Washington, who deserve your support. If Shahid Buttar can win in San Francisco, it will totally transform Democratic politics. These candidates will never be able to build the kind of giant grassroots fundraising apparatus that Bernie has, so you should not donate to Bernie without donating to candidates like these as well. These campaigns need you. They are very difficult uphill battles, working with very few resources. Your participation makes a giant difference. But they can win, as Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez showed us when she defeated a 10-term high-ranking incumbent who had millions more dollars. At the DSA convention, I met socialist candidates who had won all over the country, even in very hostile districts. It is possible.

Of course, if you have the time and energy yourself, you might consider running yourself. Even a seat on the local library board or school board can help. The left ideally needs a presence in every race, red states as well as blue. This is not the “Bernie Sanders campaign.” It is a rising movement of the American left that, with thought and effort, can create a genuine “political revolution.” A Bernie Sanders presidency is an important part of that, but it’s only the very beginning. The next year could reshape American politics completely, or it could end in the demoralizing reelection of Donald Trump. Which path it takes depends on what we choose to do right now.

Phroyd

#bernie sanders #election2020

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inlovewiththefictionalcharacters · 6 years ago

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Part - 3 : Mr. Ax Everybody wants some!! (Glen McReynolds X Reader)

Warnings : Language.

The next day, Glen was in a sour mood, staring at some soap on the T.V. along with his teammates, downstairs, in the living room. Though he was staring at the television, his mind was entirely somewhere else, thinking about why (Y/N) just silently sneaked out of the house, when she woke up. That’s exactly what she does every time they slept together. He sighed and looked at the television from his position, sprawled out on a couch with a bottle of beer in his hand.

“God, Erica’s such a bitch” he remarked, looking at a female character talking dramatically to someone, on phone.

Roper shook his head, looking at the girl on T.V., shaking his head and said “She’s definitely cheated on him”, making Glen look at him and ask “What?”

Just then, a movement by the stairs caught Roper’s eye, making him look at the stairs.

Billy Autrey, whom the whole team call as Beuter Perkins was coming down the stairs, with a backpack slung on his shoulder.

“Hey! Beuter! You leaving us already?” Roper asked, making everyone to look at him.

Plummer chuckled and asked “Running home to mama, Perkins?”

Billy looked at him and said “C’Mon ya’ll, my name ain’t Beuter. Okay guys? It’s Billy Autrey.”

“Bullshit” Glen said pointing at Billy, making him to look at him.

“It’s Beuter Perkins until we tell you otherwise. Now where are you going B.P.? You running back to that corn fed girlfriend of yours, already? Hmm?” Glen asked and took a sip from his bottle of beer.

“No, sir. I’ll be back Sunday for practice” Billy said.

“Well, well, well. Looks like Beuter Perkins is getting laid this weekend, huh?” Douglas taunted.

“You’re finally trading in that phone for the real thing?” he asked, making everyone laugh, except for Billy, who just sighed in exasperation.

“Shoot y’all…” Billy said, dropping his bag.

“Man….Guys… I don’t… She says she might be pregnant” Billy said, making everyone stop their laughter and look at him in shock.

“No sir….” Jake said and everyone else had pretty much, the same reaction.

“Yeah… Man… That’s what she says” Billy told him.

“How late is she?” Jake asked him.

“She’s a day late” Billy said and everyone groaned because that sounded pretty silly to them.

“Oh man!” Glen chuckled.

“You gotta be shitting me, Beuter! She’s one day late, she’s giving you shit for it?” Roper chuckled.

“She’s testing you. She’s trying to gauge your response. Are you the guy that says “Don’t worry, I’m gonna pay for the abortion” or are you talking about marriage, which is what she’s hoping for. Either way, you’re fucked” Finn told Billy.

“Give it up, Beuter Perkins” Finn added.

“No trust me, man. She’s not fucking pregnant, alright? We’ve all been through shit like this, except for Nez of course, ‘cause he’s still a virgin” Glen told Billy, while thinking about the time when (Y/N) once gave him a mini heart attack two years ago, telling him that she might be pregnant. Turned out she wasn’t.

Their relationship was complicated back then, too and she always gave him a hard time and he wasn’t any less. Both of them still continue their antics. Nothing changed. Things are still the same between them, if only they got even more intense and heated.

“Look, she’s just taking your little chicken-fried nuts and she’s running them through the wringer, okay?” Glen added.

“She’s just giving you shit for it because you left her back on the farm with all the other little pigs you used to fuck” Roper said making everyone laugh, except for Billy who said “I ain’t ever put it in a pig!”

“They speaketh the truth, young Beuter Perkins” Douglas said and added “Man, we’re just worried about you, alright?”

“Yeah, man. I mean school hasn’t even started yet and guys, correct me if I’m wrong, but you are the official front runner for the Freshman numb-nut of the year award, right guys?” Glen said.

“The- the what award?” Billy asked.

“It’s the annual award. We give it out to the most clueless freshman” Finn said and looked at Roper and other guys and said “ I think we already started engraving his name on the plaque” and then looked at Billy and asked “How do you spell Beuter, by the way?”

“My name is not Beuter! It’s-“ Billy was saying, but got cut off by Nez, who said “Uh Beuter, we also got a bet going on whether your share of phone bill is gonna be under or over $300.”

“We gotta pay the phone bill here?” Billy asked, looking at Nez, clearly looking clueless.

“I’ve already done the calculations based on its usage thus far, way over $300” Finn told him.

Plummer laughed hearing it and said “$300 and a kid? Man, your life’s gonna fucking suck.”

“Fine. Fine” Billy said, taking his bag from the ground and made his way to the door while the remaining boys said “Later Beuter!”

Later that day, the boys decided to hangout in the backyard of the baseball houses. A few of them were playing basketball, a few of them were just relaxing, a few of them were getting high and a few of them were playing some other sport of their own choice.

Glen on the other hand was talking to Nez who was placing a bet on him. While Nez only got a beer bottle in his hand, Glen got a beer bottle in one hand and an ax in another.

“I'll bet you 10 bucks” Nez told him.

“Ten bucks?” Glen asked smugly while sipping from his bottle of beer.

“Yeah. Ten bucks” Nez said.

“You wanna go... That's steep for you” Glen said, slowly stepping backwards with a grin on his face.

“ Best out of three” Nez told him.

“So, I gotta get two?” Glen asked.

“Yeah, Mac, two” Nez replied.

“ Okay. You feel like losing 10 bucks?” Glen said with a smirk on his face and placed his bottle on a nearby table, only after taking a huge sip from it.

“You're just excited to hit off me for once, huh?” Nez asked.

“ Oh, man. I mean, this is gonna be fun. This is gonna be very fun, Nesbit” Glen said, holding his ax as if it’s a baseball bat.

“ Man, let me get a little stretch in” he added, doing some stretches, the crop top he’s wearing riding up when he’s stretching.

“Come on. Come on, Mr. Ax. Strong Man” Nez mocked him.

“ Anytime” Glen said and stood, holding his ax like a baseball bat.

Nez threw a baseball at Glen who immediately made a strike at it with the ax,effectively splitting the ball into two halves- each flew in different direction.

“Fuck” Brumley muttered, collecting one half of the the ball that fell nearby him.

“I don't believe what I just fucking saw” Plummer said while Roper and Douglas walked towards them.

“You know how strong you'd have to be to do that?” Brumley asked Plummer.

“ And the eyes!” Plummer was saying, but got cut off by Roper who said “Let me see that” snatching the half of the ball from Brumley’s hand.

“You know how well you'd have to see the ball to hit it with an ax? Fucking crazy” Plummer said and Roper made a sign of the cross while looking at Glen.

“You just wouldn't listen, Nez. You wanna go half price? We can stop now. We can call it five bucks” Glen offered looking very smug.

“No, no, no” Nez said while Glen said “Double or nothing.”

“No. No, no. Triple or nothing. Huh? Yeah, you feeling lucky? I am” Nez said.

“ I feel great with those odds. Triple or nothing sounds fantastic. Maybe one of the best days of my life here, Nez. You know, until tomorrow” Glen said, and went back to take his position, standing like a batter.

Nez threw another ball at Glen which Glen successfully split into two halves again.

“If (Y/N)’s here, it would have saved Glen some effort to impress her” Plummer said, making Roper and Douglas to give him a look.

“I don’t think so” Douglas told him.

“What?” Brumley asked.

“I don’t think that’s how their relationship works. It’s a lot more complicated than that” Douglas said.

“I still don’t get it” Plummer said.

“Well, the two of them already knew what the other one is capable of. She doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction that he managed to impress her. That’s how they kinda get on each other’s nerves” Roper explained.

Later that day, the guys went to a club to hangout. Glen was playing foosball with Finn, Coma and Willoughby when (Y/N) entered the club along with a few more of her friends, including Emily, of course. Glen smirked when he spotted her, but immediately went back to playing the game, with the wheels in head already turning, formulating a plan to confront her.

(Y/N) gazed around the room and saw that Emily’s already attached to Roper who was standing by the pool with a cue in his hand, by her hip. Nez was also with them. Then she frowned seeing that the baseball guys, well, most of them were here and she huffed when she spotted Glen, playing foosball.

She walked towards Emily and smiled at Roper when he saw her and greeted her.

“Hey (Y/N)!” Roper said.

“Hello Roper. Nez” she greeted them.

“Hi (Y/N)” Nez said.

“Wanna join us? We’re about to get started” Roper asked, motioning to the pool table.

“Sure. Why not? But, hold on a moment. I need to have a word with Emily” (Y/N) said and literally dragged Emily a few feet away from there.

“What is it?” Emily asked with a huge grin on her face.

“When you told me that we’re gonna hangout, I thought it’s just gonna be us” (Y/N) told her.

“Well, I did tell you that Kenny’s gonna be here too..... Along with a few of his friends” Emily said.

“Yeah! But you didn’t tell me that he’s gonna be here!” (Y/N) whisper yelled at Emily, widening her eyes dramatically, while casting a glance at Glen.

Emily rolled her eyes and said “Well, Mac is one of Kenny’s friends.”

That earned Emily a look from (Y/N).

“Yeah... Fine... I might have forgot to tell you that he’s gonna be here.....” Emily said.

Well, it might be a part of hers and Roper’s plan to bring their friends together.

“ But, wait a second. Hold on! Why are you being so bothered about his presence?” Emily asked.

“I um.....” (Y/N) trailed off.

Emily’s eyes widened in realization.

“You slept with him again, didn’t you. Yesterday, isn’t it?” Emily asked.

“What? No! I- I didn’t!” (Y/N) lied.

“Oh, shut up! You always act like this when he’s around, after you slept with him. I know you too well. Stop trying to lie” Emily said, making (Y/N) roll her eyes.

“But, seriously (Y/N/N). He likes you. A lot! And even though you wouldn’t admit it, I know that you like him.... A lot! And you two are insanely attracted to each other. Not to mention the sexual tension between you guys is making the people around you to choke. Cut the guy some slack. Why don’t you give him a chance?” Emily asked.

“Because I don’t want to add it to his already boasted ego” (Y/N) said and started walking towards the pool table, where Roper and Nez were standing, wondering what the girls were talking about.

Emily started walking along with her and said “But you like it!”

“Whatever” (Y/N) said and gave Emily a look to stop that topic, which clearly meant to cease discussion about the topic.

Roper passed the cues to the girls and said “Ladies first.”

Everything was already set on the pool table.

Emily looked at (Y/N) and said “You first.”

“Okay” (Y/N) said with a shrug and bent down to make shot.

She shot the cue ball and effectively managed to break straight on. All the pool balls except for the cue ball sunk into the pockets, making Nez to gape at the table and then at her. Even Roper looked quite surprised.

“Are you psychic or something?” Nez asked (Y/N), making Emily to giggle.

(Y/N) shrugged and said “I’m something”, her eyes held humor.

“You’re something indeed” an all too familiar voice said from behind her, making (Y/N) to turn around to look at the source.

“(Y/N)” Glen greeted her with a smile that looked borderline smirk for (Y/N).

“McReynolds” (Y/N) acknowledged him.

“Hey, I need to talk to you, like right now, so-” Glen was telling her, but was cut off by Emily who said “Hey! Stop trying to steal my best friend away from me!”

Glen rolled his eyes and said “Yeah. Well, I’m only stealing her for a few minutes” and with that he grabbed the cue from (Y/N)’s hand, placed it on the pool table, grabbed her hand and walked away from there, leading her to a secluded area.

Glen remained silent for a few seconds, but kept staring at (Y/N). (Y/N) on the other hand started growing nervous under his gaze and kept shuffling her feet while gazing them. With every ticking seconds, she became more and more flustered under his gaze and finally sighed, looking up at him, meeting his gaze.

“You wanted to talk?” (Y/N) asked, mustering as much confidence as possible.

Glen slowly nodded his head, but remained silent.

“Okay. Talk” (Y/N) told him.

Glen just remained silent, yet again. (Y/N) waited for a few minutes, hoping that he’d talk and when he didn’t, she sighed and said “Look, if you want to talk or tell me something, just say it. Or else, I’m gonna go” and with that she turned around to leave, but stopped when Glen said “Go on a date, with me.”

(Y/N) froze in her step hearing those words. Maybe it’s the way how he down right ordered her to go on a date with him, not asking her, just telling her, more like ordering her or maybe because she never expected Glen McReynolds of all people to ask her to go on a date with him is what stunned her.

She turned around and muttered “What?” clearly looking stunned.

Clearly, she never pegged Glen to be a kind of guy to date. She always took him as the playboy type. Just flirt with the girls to fuck them. No dates. She didn’t even believe Roper’s words when he said that Glen’s only been with her, ever since he met her and he only flirted with other girls to make her jealous.

“I know I should have done this years ago and I’m an idiot for not realizing it anytime soon. I am done trying to annoy you and get on your nerves, but that’s the only way you’ve ever responded to me. I just want things to be more than what they are now, between us. You’re smart, funny, confident and incredibly sassy and i find that super hot, but that’s not it. I want to be more than being frenemies or being in a complicated situation with you. Go on a date with me” Glen said.

His little speech had effectively stunned her and when she finally came to her senses , she muttered “Uh... Yes.”

Glen grinned hearing her words and said “Cool. I’ll pick you up at 7, tonight” and walked towards her, kissed the corner of her mouth and walked away, saying “Be ready by that time!”

#glen mcreynolds #glen mcreynolds x reader #glen mcreynolds x oc #tyler hoechlin #tyler hoechlin x oc #tyler hoechlin x reader #everybody wants some #EWS #love #Love Hate #complicated #it's complicated #part 3 #smut #jonathan mcreynolds

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iliketoeatmyself · 6 years ago

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ED BOOKS

I stole this from mpa (because I wanted to save it) but I’m going to highlight those I’VE READ... also I might add some others as time goes...

Wintergirls by Laurie Halse Anderson (it was a good read!)

Solitaire by Aimee Liu * (Considered first anorexia memoir. Thus, there are points when EDs aren't completely understood, but still totally worth the read. Available through KU.)

Unbearable Lightness: A Story of Loss and Gain by Portia de Rossi (it was really good and real tbh)* (One of my faves! A memoir that really captivated me)

Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia * (Really is what it says on the tin and so much more. This memoir captures the darkest parts of EDs and is done very logically, stabilizing itself with facts that are intermixed by the chaos of EDs).

Just Listen by Sarah Dessen (Romance)

Thin by Lauren Greenfield (Nonfiction elements. Like the TV documentary of the same name, but of course, the book has more details.)

The Best Little Girl in the World by Steven Levenkron (NOT like the movie. Based on research of EDs in figure skating and gymnastics.)

Perfect by Natasha Friend

Purge: Rehab Diaries by Nicole J. Johns

Skinny by Ibi Kasliky

Loud Girl in the House of Myself: A Memoir of a Strange Girl by Stacy Pershall

Gaining: The Truth about Life After EDs by Aimee Liu (same author as Solitaire)

Identical by Ellen Hopkins * (Written in same manner as her other books, which is basically more like a poem than traditional novel format. LOVE this book and recommend the authors other, non ED books)

Letting Ana Go by Anonymous

Massive by Julia Bell

Keeping the Moon by Sarah Dessen (Romance)

Hungry: A Young Model's Story of Appetite Ambition and the Ultimate Embrace of Curves

She's Come Undone by Wally Lamb

Thin by Grace Bowman (memoir)

The Disappearing Girl by Heather Topham Wood (Romance, KU)

After the Strawberry by Adrienne Maria Vrettos

Purge by Sarah Darer Littman

Beautiful Me by Natasha Jennings

Hunger Point by Jillian Medoff (it was okay, the sister of mc has an ed)

Pointe by Brandy Colbert (Very dramatic. Deals with sexual abuse and also kidnapping in addition to an ED. Still not sure how I feel about this book, but a read that is very interesting, especially for those who like reading all things ballet. Also, this is nice because a black girl is not only a ballet dancer, but also has an ED, which is not portrayed enough!)

Looks by Madeleine George

Kessa by Steven Levenkron (I'd say this is probably for younger readers, but hey, you're never too old to read any book in my mind!)

My Sister's Bones by Cathi Hanauer * (Really liked this book and it isn't necessarily because of the ED part of it. I just like the whole feel and author's style)

Parperweight by Meg Haston

You Remind Me of You: A Poetry Memoir by Eireann Corrigan

Chalked Up: Inside Elite Gymnastics' Merciless Coaching, Overzealous Parents, Eating Disorders and Elusive Olympic Dreams by Jennifer Sey (Wow, that's a mouth full!)

Believarexic by J.J. Johnson

Feeling For Bones by Bethany Pierce

More Than You Can Chew by Marnelle Tokio

A Dance of Sisters by Tracey Porter

Gravity Journal by Gail Sobat

Elena Vanishing by Elena Dunkle (A memoir written with her mother)

Before I Fall by Lauren Oliver (Haven't read this in a long time, but I remember liking it)

A Trick of the Light by Lois Metzger * (One of my favourites! About a male with an ED.)

Starved by Michael Somers (Another good male ED novel)

Reckoning Daze by Michael Beaulieu (Currently free kindle edition is available)

Thin (Sharing Spaces Book 3) by Alicia Michaels (This is part of a romance series and is the third book. This one focuses on the ED character, but there are hints to the ED in other books. You don't necessarily need to read the other books in the series and can figure things out without reading them first. I actually read this book before the others)

Cake Dreams: A Memoir of Survival by Hoyt Phillips * (Another male ED book. Great multi-faceted portrayal of EDs and general metal illness. Available on KU)

Not My Father's Son: A Memoir by Alan Cumming * (It's been a while since I've read it, but I recall there being an ED. The book does not focus on the ED, but it is thrown in there, adding to an already fascinating, interesting read.)

Nothing by Robin Friedman (Another male ED book)

Lighter and Weightless (books 1 and 2 of Begin Again Duet series) by Gia Riley (Romance and available on KU)

...And All Shall Fade to Black by Layla Dorine (Gay Romance, male with ED, available on KU).

Still Water: A Boys of Bellamy Novel by Ruthie Luhnow (Gay romance, male with ED, available on KU)

Four Weeks, Five people by Jennifer Yu * (A male wannabe rock star with an ED. He is 1/5th of the main characters who all have other mental disorders and have been sent away to camp to help with their various mental illnesses).

Phat (Escape From Reality series) by Taylor Henderson (Part of a series. KU)

Life-size (no, not like the Lindsey Lohan movie) by Jenefer Shute (Available through Kindle unlimited)

Love Struck (Star Struck Series) by Amber Garza (Romance series. KU).

Fake Perfect Me by Cari Kamm (KU)

Out of Breath (Exposed Series) by Hazel Kelly (KU).

The Kaitlyn Chronicles series by Elaine Babich (Series, for younger readers. KU).

Please Don't Go by Elizabeth Benning (A bulimic sent to a residence to recover and teams up with anorexic former enemy in hopes of escaping)

Girl, Interrupted by Susanna Kaysen * (very great!! I loved this one, it’s not only about the ed, but human nature and emotions) (A classic novel that everyone interested in metal health should read).

Do or Die (Fight or Flight Series #4) by Jamie Canosa (Romance series. KU).

Hungry: One Woman's Battle and Victory over Anorexia and Bulima by Jessica Skinner (The title pretty much says all you need to know. KU).

My Perfect Little Secret by Rebecca Coppage (KU).

Anorexic: The True Story of An Anorexia Survivor Who Found Love by Anna Paterson (This is romantic, but I wouldn't call it romance. KU).

Balance of Control by Stephanie Nance

Running in Silence: My Drive for Perfection and the Eating Disorder that Fed it by Rachael Rose Steil

My Not-So Secret by B.P. Morrison (KU).

26 Beats per Minute by Dez Wilder (Male with ED. Memoir. KU).

Summer Fades by Amanda Bews (KU).

It's Never Enough (Book 1 in Never Series) by Susan Soares (Series. KU).

Restricted: A Novel of Half-truths by Jennifer Kinsel * (KU).

Chrysalis by L.A. Field, Gary Thaller * (KU).

A Slow Fade by Brooke Melius (KU).

All We Ever Wanted: Unmasking the Silent Battle by Alexandra Wnuk (KU).

Life Hurts: A Doctor's Personal Journey Through Anorexia by Dr. Eliabeth Mcnaught *

A Fork in the Road by Rebekah Wilson (KU).

Skin Deep (Stolen Breaths series) by Pamela Sparkman (Romance Series. KU).

Feeding the Heart (Heart Series) by Marion Myles (Romance Series. KU).

Anorexic Annie by Sarah Burleton * (KU).

The Downside of Being Charlie by Jenny Torres Sanchez * (Male with ED, the ED is not a huge part of the book, but also deals with family dysfunction, which I always find interesting).

The Art of Starving by Sam J. Miller * (This is very interesting. Male with ED. Deals with super powers! Though, it could just be the ED causing the protagonist to think he has powers, but I'll let you be the judge!)

Skinny Boy: A Young Man's Battle and Triumph Over Anorexia by Gary A. Grahl

It Was Me All Along: A Memoir by Andie Mitchell * (about binge eater who lost weight)

Safety in Numbers by Brittany Burgunder *

Skinny: She was starving to fit in... (False reflections book 1) by Laura L. Smith (Currently free kindle edition is available).

When You Fall by Alex Karola * (through Wattpad. Not finished yet, but is a great read!)

Inner Hunger: A Young Woman's Struggle Through Anorexia and Bulimia by Marianne Apostolides

Empty: A Story of Anorexia by Christie Pettit

Inside Out: Portrait of an Eating Disorder by Nadia Shivack

Not Otherwise Specified by Hannah Moskowitz *

All Good Things Die in LA by Anhoni Patel *

Jane in Bloom by Deborah A. Lytton (Another one for younger readers. Still, a nice read)

Gravity Journal by Gail Sidonie Sobat

What I Lost by Alexandra Ballard *

This Impossible Light by Lily Myers (told in verse)

Sad Perfect by Stephanie Elliot (the girl has avoidant/restrictive food intake disorder)

Beautiful Bodies by Kimberly Rae Miller * (this is a KU book and is a fairly new release as of 7/28/17. It is about disordered eating and chronic dieting, not a full blown ED; however, I still enjoyed it and recommend it).

Shattered Image: My Triumph over Body Dysmorphic Disorder by Brian Cuban * (KU, male memoir detailing ED struggle and primarily his struggle with BDD)

Sugar by Deirdre Riordan Hall (KU)

Empty Net (Scoring Chances Book 4) by Avon Gale * (gay romance about bulimic hockey player)

Heavyweight by MB Mulhall (Male protagonist)

Just Jack by Shaun Powell (KU, male protagonist)

Don't Call Me Kit Kat by K.J. Farnham (for younger audience definitely)

Hunger: A Memoir of (My) Body by Roxanne Gay (BED)

Skin and Bones by Sherry Shahan (Male protagonist)

Skinny Me by Charlene Carr

Wrists by Jay Broderick (male protagonist)

Unicorns and Rainbow Poop by Sam Kadence (male, gay, romance)

Bare Roots by Molly S. Hillery (KU)

Grip by Adex Garza (KU, male. Deals with morbid obesity)

Rita Just Wants to be Thin by Mary W. Walters (KU)

Taint by Jude Nicholas (KU)

Fasting Girls: The History of Anorexia Nervosa by Joan Jacobs Brumberg

13 Ways of Looking at a Fat Girl by Mona Awad

Hunger Pains: The Modern Woman's tragic Quest for Thinness by Mary Pipher

The Stone Girl by Alyssa B. Sheinmel

Pretend We are Lovely by Noley Reid

Stick Figure by Lori Gottilieb

Diary of an Exercise Addict by Peach Friedman

The Anorexia Diaries by Linda Rio

Feed Me!: Writers Dish about Food, Eating, Weight, and Body Image by Harriet Brown

Insatiable: A Young Mother's Struggle with Anorexia by Erica Rivera

How I Got Skinny, Famous, and Fell Madly in Love by Ken Baker (about a girl who goes on a reality TV show to lose weight. Fun read)

Inside Out: Portrait of an Eating Disorder by Nadia Shivack

Perfect: Anorexia and Me by Emily Halban

Losing it by Sandy McKay

Fragile by Nikki Grahame

My Big Fat Disaster by Beth Fehlbaum

Thin Ice by Niki Settimo (romance)

Unfiltered by Lily Collins (not solely a book about ED, but the topic is mentioned throughout)

Good Luck with That by Kristan Higgins (coming out on August 7, 2018)

Staving in the Search of Me by Marissa LaRocca

Feast (True Love In and Out of the Kitchen) by Hannah Howard

The Solitude of Prime Numbers by Paolo Giordano (the mc is anorexic but it’s not focused on it only. This book is about two outcasts who connect to each other and its effect of it in the course of their lives)

The Vegetarian by Han Kang (it’s very good and wild. It also tackles on feminism and societal issues as well)

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami (it’s a great book. The ed is not the main point but there is a character suffering from one)

#eating disorders #eating disorder #book #books #anorexia #bulimia #ednos #list

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isaiahrippinus · 5 years ago

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VinePair Podcast: How Will It Be Possible for Bars to Survive Covid?

As Covid-19 cases surge in many parts of the United States, recently reopened bars have come under heightened scrutiny as possible vectors for disease transmission. Governors in Florida, Texas, and other states are re-closing these establishments to combat the spread of the virus. That prompts a difficult conversation: Should bars be operating right now? If so, should they have to offer outdoor seating only? How can customers maintain safe social distance in a setting and business model that’s geared toward packing people into close quarters?

Those questions and more are examined on this week’s episode of the VinePair Podcast. Also discussed is how the federal government, and many state and local governments, have done little to ensure that these businesses can survive this unprecedented challenge.

Listen Online

Listen on iTunes

Listen on Spotify

Or Check Out Our Conversation Here

Adam: From Brooklyn, New York, I’m Adam Teeter.

Erica: From Connecticut, I’m Erica Duecy.

Zach: And in Bellingham, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is the VinePair Podcast. You just threw me for the weirdest loop. Where is Bellingham?

Z: It’s about 90 miles north of Seattle. I’m with my son, visiting the grandparents for the holiday weekend. We’re doing this one on location.

A: I thought you were trying to show off. You’re on vacation. Even in Covid, Zach Geballe takes his vacations.

Z: I’m literally in the guest bedroom recording a podcast. The sole extent of my plans for this time up here is to be able to take naps while my mom watches our son.

A: I was really hoping you were going to say you’re in your childhood bedroom.

Z: No. I did not grow up here. My mom moved up here after I went off to college.

A: What kind of posters would a young Zach Geballe have on his wall as a child?

Z: Do you want to guess, or do you want me to tell you?

A: It would have been the Constitution, or maybe a picture of “I’m Just a Bill” from “Schoolhouse Rock.”

Z: You have the wrong impressions.

A: I know you like the rules, man. Maybe there’s a picture of you in a prep school outfit.

Z: I went to public school. I did not go to private school.

A: You probably had G. I. Joe on your wall.

Z: What age are we talking about here? Mostly it was pictures of Ken Griffey Jr.

E: Oh! That makes sense.

A: Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.

E: Totally.

Z: A lot of Ken Griffey Jr. and Shawn Kemp because those were the coolest athletes in town when I was a kid.

Z: Oh right! You wanted to go into sports broadcasting.

Z: I did. I did not want to go into politics or constitutional law or whatever you seem to think. Erica, what was on the walls in your childhood bedroom?

E: I was super into all of the characters from “Stand by Me” and “The Lost Boys.” A lot of good late 80s, early 90s films that now my oldest daughter is the age she could start watching these moves. Why was I watching R-rated movies back then? Where were my parents? There is no way. I just previewed both of those movies to see if they should not be R-rated movies. They definitely should be rated right where they are. Why the hell was I watching them as a fourth grader?

A: That’s hilarious.

Z: Adam, how about you? Do you want to fess up to what was on your childhood walls?

A: Totally. We’re talking middle school? I guess my parents thought I had a hobby? I was really into collecting all the Absolut Vodka ads.

E: That’s so prescient.

A: So was my best friend from growing up, Darby. Darby does the theme music for Wine 101: Another plug for Wine 101 if you’re not listening to it. Listen to it, people! He and I were both really into it. We were both into it to a point where we probably did some not OK things. We both grew up in Auburn. It’s a university, and our dads are both professors. We would use our dads’ professor IDs to go into the university library and go into the periodicals section, in which they had old copies of magazines. We’d take the magazines and cut out the Absolut Vodka ads.

E: That’s real dedication!

A: Because they were ads that were rarer and hard to find. There was a whole group of people that was collecting these ads because some of them were super rare. Now that I’m much older and have gone to business school, you actually study that campaign in business school because it’s considered one of the most successful and innovative marketing campaigns of the last 40 years because of the amount of insane artists and designers they got to come up with these ads. It’s a shame they got rid of that ad campaign. It was iconic. That’s really what was on my wall. My parents thought I was crazy.

Z: Most importantly Adam, when did you first have Absolut Vodka?

A: At my bar mitzvah.

Z: There you go. You were indoctrinated early.

A: I think the parents had it out, to take shots to say, “Congratulations, your son’s a man.” And I took some of that.

Z: There you go.

A: The classic Absolut Vodka? It’s been well over a decade since I’ve had Absolut Vodka.

Z: Absolut folks, you know what to do. Send Adam a bottle. He’ll throw it in his Vitamix.

A: I’m also looking for a grand piano.

Z: I sure hope you and Naomi don’t buy a walk-up. Taking a grand piano up there might be rough.

A: I don’t know where we’d put it. I take a treadmill at this point. Anyways, on this week’s episode, we’re going to talk about a hot-button issue that’s been making the rounds on our site and on mainstream news sites: the politics, positives, and negatives of reopening bars. We’re going to talk about bars specifically as opposed to restaurants because there’s a lot of other things that go into the reopening of restaurants. We’re going to define bars as places where the primary reason you go is to drink. You don’t go because they also make a really great burger, and you’re going for the burger. You go there for the drinks, and they operate as a place in which they make the majority when they’re at capacity. These are the places you’d go when you’re shoulder to shoulder with people. You’re there to buy great cocktails and beer. We’re talking about this because there are a lot of people saying they shouldn’t open. Bars are being blamed across the country for this continued spread of Covid. Guys, at this point, if a bar were to open in your area, would you go?

E: Yeah! I’ll hop in. I was down in Jersey City over the weekend. There were so many bars open. All the bars were open. You could either walk in and order a cocktail, wine, or beer for takeaway. Or, you could order it to sit outside on the patio. I was totally for bars being open, and how can we not reopen them and make it easier for these businesses to do some sales. Man, after being in Jersey City for the weekend, and I went for a drink at one place, there was a big group of 20 people all uptight and close to each other, talking for hours. I went to dinner. I came back. Three hours later, that same group has now grown to 30 people. Just 30 people! Up in each others’ faces: drinking, smoking, and talking. None of these people were wearing masks. This is how this thing spreads. That made me pause and give it a second think.

A: Zach?

Z: I wouldn’t go into a bar without a pretty significant incentive. My biggest issue with going to a bar is not feeling like I can trust the people around me. That bums be out. The reality is, the dynamic in a restaurant is a little different. You tend to be seated and stay seated. You’re not co-mingling. Bars have served as a place for that kind of coming together and comingling and conversations. It’s that aspect that makes them so dangerous right now. I can’t imagine it. It doesn’t seem to me to be something that’s safe. I could see sitting outside and having a drink, but we have figured out a model for these bars to continue to survive for the foreseeable future while also balancing safety. I’m not sure that the model trying to limit capacity works. I worked in bars for years. It was hard enough to get people to follow rules when the only rules were “Don’t throw shit at the bartender.” We had to kick people out for that. Now, how do you maintain distance? Some people are always going to be inherently willing to push the boundaries and take chances and put themselves at more risk. To some extent, you can’t control that. When you’re trying to create a space for someone more cautious, how do you police that with 30 people and just a couple of bar staff? You get into a really difficult position. We’ve all seen all the videos in bars and of people outraged at being asked to be considerate of the people around them.

A: Everything you both are saying, I agree with. I would not go into a bar right now. The reason people are nervous about bars specifically is because we know from society that alcohol causes you to lower your inhibitions. Even just accidentally, it’s why we don’t let you get behind the wheel of a car if you drink. You’re not thinking in the same way. I could even see myself being in that bar, having a few drinks, and all of a sudden just totally forgetting to put my mask on. And then seeing someone I hadn’t seen in a while, walking up, and talking too close to them. Or, talking louder. As we all know, volume rises when we go to bars. Talking louder causes moisture to expel from your mouth, which is the droplets we hear about that are the way that Covid spreads. All of these things are what make bars really dangerous. We also know that A/C recirculates Covid. Being in a bar with A/C blasting, which allows Covid to continue to stay active in the air, when someone else is then talking with their mask down, is a scary thing. It also puts the staff at risk. What are these owners supposed to do? We have to figure out some way it works where they can exist outside. Is that a manageable level? Last weekend, I walked around Fort Greene. I walked by a bar. They just moved what a packed night would look like to the sidewalk immediately in front of their bar. It freaked me out. It wasn’t like they were monitoring. They were making money equal to what they would make on a Saturday night, making cashing. No one was spread out. They were confined to that space in front of the bar. The bar was street-facing property. People wanted to be right by the bar, so they could get another drink. No one’s going to spread out down the block. I’m assuming if they spread out down the block, they might get a neighbor who came out and yelled angrily at them. So, they were all right in front of the bar. It was creating just the same problems. The only benefit I see is that the droplets were not enclosed, so droplets have more likelihood to go out into the air and not as easily spread. No one was wearing masks. I don’t know how you fix that. When I have gone by restaurants, people seem to be a little bit more behaved, and the spacing of the tables helps with that. There were a lot of restaurants I walked by where every time the server came up to a table, they pulled up their masks to talk to the server. Then the server walked away, and they took their masks off to have a conversation with their friends. They were eating their food, but their masks were always on when they were ordering. At the bar, I didn’t even see anyone walk up to the window wearing a mask to order. It’s a hard conversation. We’ve got to find a solution.

E: Right. We did this article a couple of weeks ago looking at what bars in Asia are doing. In Hong Kong, for example, the bars are allowing people to come inside, but you aren’t allowed to stand. You have to be seated at a table. You have to have five feet of separation there. In addition to that, there’s also rules around the types of health checks you have to pass. In Taiwan, for example, you have to do temperature checks. You have to sign a health declaration form so that contact tracers can get in contact with you if you’re in this bar and someone turns out to have Covid. Those types of health declaration forms, because we are in a different country with different rules, I don’t think that would fly here. People have a lot of opinions about privacy. Even though it seems like it’s for the greater good to have these health declaration forms and making it easy for contact tracers, I don’t think a lot of people going into bars, definitely in some states more than others, would be willing to fill things out and play ball in a system like that.

Z: You put so much of this burden on bars and restaurants that are not equipped for that. Talking about government support: I want to get to that later, in terms of financial support, which is an important piece to this. Even just the logistical support of keeping track of who’s coming in. If we find out that someone who was at our bar on that busy Saturday night has since tested positive, right now, it’s pretty safe to say we’re doing very little to track those things. That’s not just in bars. That’s anywhere that is open. As a result, we’re so ill- equipped to face this. I don’t want this to turn into a rant about our country’s response to Covid. There’s lots of other podcasts there. I do think that from the bar’s perspective, you’re asking an unfair amount of establishments that don’t exist to fill those functions, to track who’s coming in and who’s coming out, to provide more health and safety than they do from a food-service standpoint. It just is an example of all of these various ways in which we’ve left people and small businesses out to dry. At a governmental level, most federal, but statewide in a lot of cases, there’s just been zero interest in figuring this shit out at a larger level.

A: That’s what’s not fair. I don’t want anyone listening to this podcast to think we’re picking on bars at all. They’re screwed. If I were in the position, I’d be thinking the same thing. What are we supposed to do? You’re now saying that we’re allowed to be open? We had to let go of our staff, probably within the first few days of Covid. As we all know, the margins of running a bar are incredibly thin. We are now finally being allowed to reopen. We are probably not at our full staff capacity. Even at this bar that I was talking about that was packed, there were only two people there. There was someone taking orders at the window, punching them in. Sorry, there were three people there. There was one person taking orders at the window. There was one person who was then passing those orders back to the bartender. The person was then bringing drinks back to the window. This is a bar that I think normally would have, on a busy Friday or Saturday night, five or six people behind the bar. And they had three. They can’t afford that. Now you’re saying, now it should be on us? We should hire people to do contact tracing and to check people’s temperatures? And a bouncer potentially, to make sure people are six feet apart outside on the sidewalk? It’s not fair to sit here and say it’s their problem, and that they should figure it out. No, it’s not because no one has helped them up to this point. We can’t just keep putting it all on them. It’s not fair. It’s not the way society should exist. It’s not my problem; it’s your problem. Well, why can’t we say as a society, we want to go out and drink and help them, so it’s also on us to be responsible and to be willing to call out others at the bar and say hey, could you guys put your masks on? Would you mind being a little further away from my group? If no one’s willing to do that, then this is just what happens.

Z: It’s a dangerous place where when, alcohol is involved, you talk about inhibitions being lowered. I’ve also been working in bars where we’ve had to break up fights. It’s not an uncommon thing, sadly, when alcohol is involved. When you think about the ways in which people are wearing a mask, being considerate towards others, has sadly become an affront to their individual freedoms that merits aggressive and/or violent response. It’s not fair to put that into the bar either. The reality of all of this comes down to two things. The first is what we’ve been talking about: To preserve public safety, some of these things need to be taken on at a level much beyond the individual business. The other one is, it needs to be in the financial interest of these establishments to not be packed. There needs to be some support or aid that allows them to serve people but serve people safely. Packing people in because it’s the only way you can keep your business afloat was fine in a pre-Covid world. It just cannot be how we as a society handle this. It cannot be the only option for these bars and other establishments to stay open, to pack in, totally ignoring the science that says that the only way to be safe around strangers is to be at a distance. Instead, we’re doing none, or only outside. It’s not like fresh air is a cure-all. Otherwise, we’d all be camping out or something. There has to be an approach that allows for these businesses to function at a limited capacity. That approach has to involve subsidies from the government, the way that we have subsidized a lot of other businesses, through this crisis. We’ve talked about this with lots of our interviews with bar owners, bartenders, and other businesses, too, in this industry. That money has just not found its way into the industry for the most part.

A: Also, we need to relax the laws. I don’t mean the alcohol laws. I mean the laws we have about fair play in the alcohol business. For example, I was talking to a brand manager earlier today for a very well-known alcohol brand, who was saying, “We have funds that we’d love to help give these bars so that they can build more safe and secure patios in the street.” I don’t know what it’s like in Seattle, Zach, but here, if you don’t have outdoor space already attached to your bar, a lot of neighborhoods, and the city is fast-tracking these permits, are allowing you to commandeer two or three parking spaces and make an area that people can then stand in when they’re being served. The problem is, for a lot of these places that don’t have a lot of money, they’re putting out trash bins or plant potters. Those aren’t really great lines of demarcation, if you will. Those aren’t borders. Some people are spilling out beyond them. Places are getting well over capacity. If one of one of these brands offers to build a beautiful wood deck, that is that space, and all you have to do is put branding on the deck once or twice, paid for, that would be a huge help to the bars. And it helps with crowd control. But you would have to have a specific area that people would be in. If it was at capacity you would have to tell people sorry, they can’t be served unless they take a cocktail to go. In a lot of states, because of laws, people say they can’t do that. That would be considered as giving a bribe to a business in order for that business to pick up alcohol, to pick up their product in sales. Can we just get over that? And let them do that?

E: Yeah!

A: These bars and restaurants that have basically lost everything can have a lifeline from brands that have made money off-premise during this time. If we’re not willing to give government subsidies, then at least relax these antiquated laws that make it much harder for people to do business.

E: We’ve also been talking about how it would be great for cocktail bars and all types of bars to continue to do takeout, delivery cocktails. This week Iowa became the first state to mandate that that’s going to be a permanent change. As we’ve talked to bar owners in the past several months, we’ve realized that really only brings in about 30 percent of a night’s take, compared to where they were before Covid. In order to allow them to keep operating, getting through this time, even in a smaller way with a limited employee base, at least that’s a little thing that all states could participate in: allowing cocktails to go on a more permanent basis. There’s got to be several things happening here. You can do the takeout model. You can do some additional subsidies. There’s got to be an integrated approach to allow these bars to continue operating. It could be months! It could be years that we’re looking at.

A: It could.

Z: For a lot of people that I’ve talked to that are in the bar industry who’ve moved into delivery or takeout cocktails, the challenge for them is equipment: canning lines or a vacuum sealing machine. It doesn’t make sense to invest in those things if you’re only going to have a few months of selling to-go cocktails. If that’s a permanent change, you might say yes, we have to put some money down on these things upfront, but we can expect to be able to continue to sell cocktails for months and years on end. Adding that little bit of certainty that this is going to be a persistent and continued option, instead of a temporary option, that could be huge. The other big issue, and we’re coming up on it soon, is, we’re going to have a real unemployment crisis if there isn’t an extension of this additional $600 a week that has been added to unemployment for people through the end of July.

A: Totally.

Z: When that money goes away, you’re going to have over 10 million people in the service industry, in the restaurant and bar industry, who are still out of work because most places are not open, or are only open in a limited capacity. Those people are going to be on some amount of state-funded unemployment, but I will tell you, my state-funded unemployment would have been comically inadequate to cover the expenses that I have. That’s true for most everyone else who’s working in restaurants. It’s not designed to be a full-subsistence living. It’s just enough money to get you through to get another job.

A: Right.

Z: If this industry continues to be on life support, those jobs just aren’t out there. There has to be a thought about it from the standpoint of employees, where most of them don’t have jobs to go back to if they’d be willing to. Obviously there’s a lot of health risks that go along with that. The inability of the government as a whole to address this major sector of the economy in any effective or comprehensive way, it pisses me off.

A: It just pisses me off too, Zach. Iowa did a good thing. They made to-go cocktails permanent, which is awesome. There’s just no leadership. There’s no leadership at the top, from our federal government. There’s not a lot of leadership in the state governments. There’s a lot of people that want to sing the praises of Gov. Cuomo here in New York, but there hasn’t been a lot of strong leadership. I keep thinking about why this bar on Saturday night was packed and why it felt insane on that sidewalk. I do remember the bartender who served someone a cocktail when I was standing there. I overheard him say, “By the way, this consumption is for here.” While we are letting them sell these cocktails, we’re also saying, “No open containers.” The SLA in New York is saying you can sell to go, but no one can open the cocktail, walk down the sidewalk, and consume it. Why not? So now the bar is freaked out about that happening and then get fined because it’s their responsibility a lot of times if that happens. I have seen friends of mine who own bars in the city, posting on Instagram: “If you come and buy drinks from us, either consume them here or please take them home. Please do not walk down the street and drink them or go sit on someone’s stoop.” That’s just stupid. Why can’t we assume that everyone’s an adult, relax those laws, and then that would allow for some of this insane amount of gathering to thin out? We could actually keep flattening the curve. It’s like we want to flatten the curve, but we don’t want to flatten the curve. We want to do just enough so it feels like we’re doing something, but not enough that allows businesses to still survive because we don’t want to pay them subsidies or treat everyone like an adult who can walk down the street drinking a drink. It’s infuriating.

E: It seems like an un-winnable situation.

A: Totally.

E: I don’t see what the solution is unless there really is a subsidy situation. That has to happen. At some point, the government, or people have to lobby to say when we come out of this, we need there to be functioning businesses that we can go to. As a society, we value functioning bars a part of the cultural fabric of America. Unless we do that, there is probably no future for the vast majority of bars who are going to keep limping along. Then, the rules keep changing. There’s just no way to know how or when they’re going to change, or how you can move forward to plan for a sustainable business in the future.

A: It’s so depressing. But it is what it is. There really is no solution. Every time we talk about this topic, from the first month in, to a few months later when we talked about stuff like this again to now. We always keep coming back to the same thing, which is, we could do all these Band-Aid things. We can throw restaurants and bars rotting carrots. But then, we’re going to beat them with sticks. The only real solution is the government stepping in and helping. It really is. It’s not just our industry. In the arts, I keep thinking about people I know who are musicians and actors. They’re all screwed, too. The government has to step up and help all these people. If it doesn’t, then we’re going to be in a really bad place in six to 12 months. We really are. One of the biggest solutions here, is vote these f*ckers out. They are basically unwilling to do anything to help normal people in this country. It’s time for them to go.

E: I agree.

Z: Boy, I was hoping this would leave me in a better mood for the holiday weekend.

A: Sorry, Zach. But, there’s nothing better to talk about before a holiday weekend than how to get politically active to make change in our country.

E: That’s true. We are talking about Independence Day here.

A: It’s time to get more politically active. The drinks industry got incredibly active to fight the tariffs. It’s time for the drinks industry to get active again to speak out. Anyone who listens to this podcast, who supports bars and restaurants, even if you don’t work in them, get politically active, write to your city council people. Write your assembly members and the senate members in your state and your governors and your lieutenant governors. Write your federal representatives. Tell them they need to help. Unfortunately, there’s very little that municipal governments can do without federal support. It just is what it is. You need to put the pressure on your federal elected officials to tell them that they need to help these industries. If they don’t, your city can do as much as it possibly can and it won’t be enough without federal government help.

Z: That’s very true.

A: On that note, I hope everyone listening to the podcast had a great and restful holiday weekend. For you two going into the holiday weekend, I hope you have a great holiday weekend as well.

E: Likewise.

Z: Thanks, Adam.

A: I will talk to everyone next week.

Z: Sounds great.

E: Bye.

A: Thanks so much for listening to the VinePair Podcast. If you enjoy listening to us every week please leave us a review or rating on iTunes, Stitcher, Spotify, or wherever it is that you get your podcasts. It really helps everyone else discover the show. Now for the credits: VinePair is produced and hosted by Zach Geballe, Erica Duecy, and me: Adam Teeter. Our engineer is Nick Patri and Keith Beavers. I’d also like to give a special shout-out to my VinePair co-founder Josh Malin and the rest of the VinePair team for their support. Thanks so much for listening and we’ll see you again right here next week.

Ed. note: This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

The article VinePair Podcast: How Will It Be Possible for Bars to Survive Covid? appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/how-will-bars-survive-covid/ source https://vinology1.tumblr.com/post/623088237869694976

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johnboothus · 5 years ago

Text

VinePair Podcast: How Will It Be Possible for Bars to Survive Covid?

Listen Online

Listen on iTunes

Listen on Spotify

Or Check Out Our Conversation Here

Adam: From Brooklyn, New York, I’m Adam Teeter.

Erica: From Connecticut, I’m Erica Duecy.

Zach: And in Bellingham, Washington, I’m Zach Geballe.

A: And this is the VinePair Podcast. You just threw me for the weirdest loop. Where is Bellingham?

Z: It’s about 90 miles north of Seattle. I’m with my son, visiting the grandparents for the holiday weekend. We’re doing this one on location.

A: I thought you were trying to show off. You’re on vacation. Even in Covid, Zach Geballe takes his vacations.

Z: I’m literally in the guest bedroom recording a podcast. The sole extent of my plans for this time up here is to be able to take naps while my mom watches our son.

A: I was really hoping you were going to say you’re in your childhood bedroom.

Z: No. I did not grow up here. My mom moved up here after I went off to college.

A: What kind of posters would a young Zach Geballe have on his wall as a child?

Z: Do you want to guess, or do you want me to tell you?

A: It would have been the Constitution, or maybe a picture of “I’m Just a Bill” from “Schoolhouse Rock.”

Z: You have the wrong impressions.

A: I know you like the rules, man. Maybe there’s a picture of you in a prep school outfit.

Z: I went to public school. I did not go to private school.

A: You probably had G. I. Joe on your wall.

Z: What age are we talking about here? Mostly it was pictures of Ken Griffey Jr.

E: Oh! That makes sense.

A: Yeah, that makes a lot of sense.

E: Totally.

Z: A lot of Ken Griffey Jr. and Shawn Kemp because those were the coolest athletes in town when I was a kid.

Z: Oh right! You wanted to go into sports broadcasting.

Z: I did. I did not want to go into politics or constitutional law or whatever you seem to think. Erica, what was on the walls in your childhood bedroom?

A: That’s hilarious.

Z: Adam, how about you? Do you want to fess up to what was on your childhood walls?

A: Totally. We’re talking middle school? I guess my parents thought I had a hobby? I was really into collecting all the Absolut Vodka ads.

E: That’s so prescient.

E: That’s real dedication!

Z: Most importantly Adam, when did you first have Absolut Vodka?

A: At my bar mitzvah.

Z: There you go. You were indoctrinated early.

A: I think the parents had it out, to take shots to say, “Congratulations, your son’s a man.” And I took some of that.

Z: There you go.

A: The classic Absolut Vodka? It’s been well over a decade since I’ve had Absolut Vodka.

Z: Absolut folks, you know what to do. Send Adam a bottle. He’ll throw it in his Vitamix.

A: I’m also looking for a grand piano.

Z: I sure hope you and Naomi don’t buy a walk-up. Taking a grand piano up there might be rough.

A: Zach?

E: Yeah!

A: It could.

A: Totally.

A: Right.

E: It seems like an un-winnable situation.

A: Totally.

E: I agree.

Z: Boy, I was hoping this would leave me in a better mood for the holiday weekend.

A: Sorry, Zach. But, there’s nothing better to talk about before a holiday weekend than how to get politically active to make change in our country.

E: That’s true. We are talking about Independence Day here.

Z: That’s very true.

A: On that note, I hope everyone listening to the podcast had a great and restful holiday weekend. For you two going into the holiday weekend, I hope you have a great holiday weekend as well.

E: Likewise.

Z: Thanks, Adam.

A: I will talk to everyone next week.

Z: Sounds great.

E: Bye.

Ed. note: This interview has been edited for length and clarity.

The article VinePair Podcast: How Will It Be Possible for Bars to Survive Covid? appeared first on VinePair.

Via https://vinepair.com/articles/how-will-bars-survive-covid/

source https://vinology1.weebly.com/blog/vinepair-podcast-how-will-it-be-possible-for-bars-to-survive-covid

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1989dreamer · 7 years ago

Text

This is Your Uber Driver

Summary: Stiles has been having one of the worst weeks of his life. Nothing can make it better. Nothing. Not even the cute Uber driver Lydia sends to pick him up.

Prompt from here.

Inspired by this.

Note: Most text used in phone conversation (indicated by >> and <<) was taken from the source image.

Cover

AO3

Of course Stiles would drop his phone in the toilet after being startled by a drunk person who proceeded to puke on Stiles because he was closer than the stool. Of course the phone would be unsalvageable—not that Stiles wanted to save it after it splashed down into the mix of water and urine.

Of course, Stiles would lose his contacts and all his videos, pictures, and random thoughts put into the notes and sounds. Three years of his life gone just like that. Of fucking course.

And now, Stiles had a new phone courtesy of his dad’s contract. But, he didn’t have his contacts yet which sucked because his friends refused to tell him which ones they were when they texted and he was playing a guessing game. He’d already pissed off Erica and Lydia because he hadn’t responded properly to either of them. Although, to be fair, he thought it was Scott texting both times since they brought up an intimate shortcoming.

Stiles groaned and smacked his head against the table. This whole week sucked so bad. And to top it off Lydia was requiring his presence at her annual donations ball, never mind that Stiles barely made enough to support living. Now she wanted him to rub elbows with the bigwigs of Beacon Hills.

He sighed, tucking his hands under his legs because the urge to tug at his hair was too great to ignore but Lydia would kill him if he messed it up. She was supposed to be picking him up in a few minutes, and even sitting felt taboo.

Jesus but he needed to unload this bullshit on someone. His dad was busy with work, and his friends weren’t emotionally available right now. Stiles jumped up and started pacing.

Where the hell was Lydia?

Just when he decided to get a drink of water, his phone buzzed with an incoming text.

>>I’m here for you.

Which of his friends was that? Stiles scrolled through his meager contacts, each one assigned multiple initials until he could get the actual names. The only contact that was proper was his dad’s, and it was definitely not his dad texting him. Stiles didn’t even know if his dad could text.

It also wasn’t Lydia/Erica/Scott/Boyd. That left Isaac—unlikely—Danny—probable—Allison—also probable—and Harley—who he hadn’t talked to since college graduation four years ago.

Safest bet was just to respond in as neutral of a way as he could.

<<Thanks :) I’m going through a tough time so it means a lot.

After a few seconds of deliberation, he added another text.

<<And sorry, I lost all my contacts. Who is this?

Couldn’t hurt to ask. Maybe this friend would finally take pity on him and give him a real name.

Two minutes and thirty seconds later, a response came in.

>>This is your Uber driver.

>>I am here to pick you up.

Stiles frowned down at his phone. Lydia was supposed to pick him up. She specifically said she would. She knew Stiles didn’t have enough money to take a cab, or even an Uber, to her event.

Oh God, he’d just sent an inappropriate response to an Uber driver, a complete stranger, who was only here to drive him to his destination. God, this was so mortifying.

Stiles contemplated texting the Uber driver that he was suddenly ill. Projectile vomiting uncontrollably ought to do the trick. He would text Lydia too but he wasn’t sure which number was hers or even if he had the right one in his phone.

His phone buzzed again before he could make a decision.

>>Your date already paid for your ride.

Well, that was it then. If Lydia had called the Uber and paid the Uber, then the least Stiles could do was actually take the Uber to the venue. He could come up with an excuse to bow out gracefully before wallets were opened. Plus, he’d get some free food. Fancy shindig like this was bound to have some interesting if not fully edible hor d’oeuvres.

<<Coming.

Stiles checked his reflection—still acceptable by his standards. Lydia’s were something else entirely and Stiles was never up to par so he stopped trying once he felt he was sufficiently spiffed up—before he headed outside.

He froze on his front step, staring in awe at the black Camaro idling by the curb. The passenger side was to his house so it was a little hard to make out the driver but Stiles thought he saw styled stubble on a strong jaw line and soft looking lips. The upper face was obscured by a pair of reflective aviators which should have looked dickish and out of place, but fit very well with the Camaro and the leather jacket the driver was wearing.

Stiles leaned down by the lowered passenger window. “Hey, since this is a two-door,” he said, “do you want me to sit up front or in the back?”

The driver eyed Stiles. “Front,” he said gruffly. “Getting into the back might wrinkle your suit.”

“True.” Stiles climbed into the passenger side, tucking his phone, wallet, and keys into the tiny hidden pocket in the suit’s jacket. “I’m Stiles.” He offered his hand to the driver.

After a beat, he took it, shaking it quickly. His hand was warm and dry, a little rough with calluses but a nice hand to be sure. And it was also the first human contact Stiles had had in over three days.

“Derek,” the driver said. “Your date gave me the address where I’m supposed to drop you. It’s about three miles outside of town.” Derek stared at Stiles pointedly until he buckled his seat belt. Then, Derek pulled away from the curb, focusing entirely on driving.

“Great.” Stiles nodded, wishing he hadn’t put his phone away just so that he could fiddle with something because it seemed as if Derek was done talking for the time being. Stiles bit his lip to keep any and all observations to himself since most people, especially those that didn’t know him, didn’t appreciate his running commentary.

It was a quiet ride.

Too quiet.

Derek was too focused, and Stiles had the wild thought that maybe Derek hadn’t been sent by Lydia, after all, he’d only referred to her as Stiles’ “date.” Maybe Derek was a serial killer preying on vulnerable young adults well-dressed by their friends but still too poor to pay for their own Uber rides. Then, he had the thought that maybe he was supposed to tip Derek.

Hell no he wasn’t tipping a potential serial killer…even if he enjoyed the way Derek drove, paying attention to all the legal driving laws until they were on the outskirts of town and then he punched the accelerator and let Stiles feel the power of the Camaro as they wound around curves, heading for the preserve.

Stiles watched the road as intently as Derek did, counting the dashed lines as best he could. He kept having to start over but it was okay, it was helping calm him.

Until Derek opened his mouth and said, “I could, you know.”

Stiles startled. “Could what?” he asked. Could…kill him? Drive off a cliff? Dump his body in an unmarked grave?

“No, what?” Derek scowled, eyebrows pulling tight over his eyes as he glared at the road. “Why would I do any of those things? I’m not a killer.”

“Sorry,” Stiles murmured. One of these days, his dad always said, his mouth was going to get him in trouble. Shame it happened today. He would probably have to tip Derek a lot to get him to forgive the fact that he thought he was a serial killer.

He fished out his wallet, thumbing it open and immediately closing it and tucking it away again. Internally, he screamed “FUCK!” as loud as he could. He was flat broke. Not even a dollar.

Lydia had better have given Derek a tip for the shit she should know Stiles would put him through. She was the one reneging on her promise to pick him up for her charity event.

“So,” Derek said, suddenly, “I could listen, you know, to you if it would make you feel better?”

“Uh,” Stiles said intelligently. “What?”

“Listen. To you.” Derek shrugged. He cut a quick glance at Stiles before refocusing on the road. “You said you were going thought a lot and that it was nice to have someone there for you. So, go ahead, talk.”

Stiles eyed him suspiciously. No one ever wanted Stiles to talk. Not those that knew him well. Except for Scott. Scott was always good for a bitching session. Lately though Scott had been busy with work and his twin girls and juggling moving his mom into a smaller house. Derek did not know the hell he was asking for.

“You got a moment?” Stiles asked, just to confirm that Derek was as much of a masochist as he thought h was.

Derek shrugged again. “Nowhere to be,” he said evenly. “Just driving you out to the event of the year.”

And damn, that sounded bitter.

“Are you sure you wanna listen to me? Sounds like you might have something to say.”

Derek sighed. “Just talk.”

So, Stiles launched into a recap of his shitty week, and in the middle of backtracking for backstory, jumping forward to what-ifs and will-bes, he realized that his shitty week had actually been more like a shitty month and he was seriously broke.

“I’m not even sure I can go to this thing, you know,” he told Derek, gesturing vaguely with his hand. “It’s something Lydia helps organize every year, and she ropes me in every time.”

“But then all the guests start donating and you can’t do it, so it just makes you feel worse.”

Stiles clicked his tongue and pointed at Derek. “Exactly. I mean, I don’t even have enough to tip you for this ride.”

“Don’t worry about that.”

At the same time, they both said, “Lydia took care of it.”

“Wait,” Stiles said, “so you actually know Lydia’s name?”

“You literally just said it,” Derek said gruffly. He nodded then, almost resolutely, “Yeah, she’s a family friend. She and my sister use tonight to solicit donations for different, worthy causes. I’m sent out as a chauffeur, and later, I’ll be ferrying the drunks home.”

“How much did Lydia pay you to drive me?”

Derek’s hands clenched on the steering wheel. “You wanna grab something to eat,” he said instead. “My treat?”

“I want you to answer my question,” Stiles said. “How. Much. Did. Lydia. Pay. You. To. Drive. Me.”

“Wow,” Derek whistled. “That’s dedication.”

“Just answer the damn question.”

Derek sighed, pulling to the side of the road and pulling off his sunglasses. He folded the bows neatly before tucking them into the visor.

Stiles let out an incomprehensible sound, irritated by the deliberate wait, and Derek ducked his head.

“She didn’t pay me at all,” he admitted finally.

“Why not?”

Derek shrugged. He seriously needed to stop doing that. The leather jacket did not look like it could handle any more vigorous activity.

“She said you were cute and that I was your type.”

“What?” Stiles squeaked.

Derek rolled his eyes. “Sorry. I just thought you’d prefer actually going somewhere that didn’t have an obligatory price tag attached. Lydia said you liked greasy spoons and holes in the walls.”

“Clichés,” Stiles said in disbelief. “You think a cliché is going to win me over, Mr. Murder brows?”

“What do my eyebrows have to do with this?”

“Think again, Mr. I’m-Not-a-Serial-Killer-and-your-friend-wants-to-set-us-up-together.”

“Seriously? I just thought you’d like to eat something that you could pronounce instead of fancy French shit that does not taste good. Trust me on that.” Derek made a face as if recalling the not-good French shit he’d eaten lately.

“I,” Stiles faltered, turning away. Food? Convenient that they were now parked outside the Burger Joint, the greasiest spoon and most hole-in-the-wall restaurant anywhere close to Beacon Hills. “This isn’t Lydia’s function,” Stiles said, staring at the illuminated sign proclaiming the “best burgers in town.” It had been years since Stiles had eaten here. It still looked as cheesy as ever, the 50s décor screaming for an update.

“Duh,” Derek said. “I’m buying. Let’s go. You can keep telling me all about how your friends are being dickheads and not giving you their numbers over a couple of Number Fives.”

“I’m not a Number Five,” Stiles protested, following Derek’s lead and scrambling out of the car. “I’m at least a Number Eight or Nine.”

“The Number Five comes with onion rings,” Derek said, as if that was the only argument to be made.

“Yeah, well, the Number Eight comes with curly fries and the Nine comes with cheese curds. If you’re buying me food, you are not making me eat onions when I could have potatoes or cheese.”

“Deal,” Derek said. Stiles grinned at him and Derek returned the smile. At first, it looked painful, like Derek was unsure of what his mouth was doing, but by the time Stiles had shimmied out of his suit jacket, thrown it over the back of his seat, retrieved his phone and wallet, and run a hand through his hair, the smile looked more natural, fond and kind. It lit up Derek’s face, making his eyes sparkle.

Stiles stumbled over nothing and would have fallen flat on his face if Derek hadn’t grabbed his arm to steady him.

Damn but if Stiles wasn’t already tripping into trouble, love barely a concept but flutters in his stomach all the same. At least he waited until they were seated, menus in their faces even though they both knew what they wanted, before he let his emotions get the best of him as he stared unabashedly at Derek. Their waiter, a guy Stiles went to school with, seemed to think they needed more time, and he scooted off to top off a few deputies’ mugs while Derek scanned the drink list and Stiles watched him.

“I should probably let Lydia know that I’m not going to make it to her party.”

“Oh, she knows,” Derek said. He laid his menu down, reaching across the table to tug Stiles’ down too. “She didn’t actually pay me to pick you up. Truth is, she didn’t say that I was your type. She didn’t even use the word ‘cute’ to describe you.”

The bottom of Stiles’ stomach fell out. “No?” he said, as nonchalantly as he could, lifting his menu back up to cover his face. Derek jerked it down again.

“No,” he said. “She had a picture on her phone that she was showing to Laura, my sister. I happened to see it and I…I knew I had to meet you.”

“But, you didn’t know if you were my type?” Stiles was confused.

Derek’s blush deepened. “I didn’t know if I was your type,” he admitted softly, “but I knew you were mine. I was hoping that I would be, but it’s okay if I’m not. I’ll still let you bend my ear when you need someone to listen. You already have my number. Call me anytime.”

“You don’t know what you just unleashed,” Stiles said, leaning back and smiling so wide the corners of his mouth hurt. “But, before we get into the subject of attraction, let’s get through this date. Although, I think you’re a weirdo for those onion rings.”

Derek hummed. “Guess you’ll just have to try to convert me,” he said, a small, private smile curving his lips. “I look forward to it.”

“So do I.”

~ The End ~

#Teen Wolf Fanfiction #Stiles Stilinski #Derek Hale #My Story/My Writing

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blaineandsamevanderson · 7 years ago

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Title: Model Behavior Ch.1

Author: @blaineandsamevanderson

Fandom: Teen Wolf

Ship: Danny/Isaac

Rating: PG

Summary: Isaac gets a job as an Abercrombie greeter (before the ban) and Danny's his trainer. Can go fluffy or smutty. Prompted by @iwannabeastarshipcaptain

Notes: Post Season 3, but Allison didn’t die, Isaac didn’t leave Beacon Hills and Danny didn’t disappear. Because I can AU all I want in fics!

“Hey, has anyone ever told you that you’ve got a great look for Abercrombie & Fitch?”

Isaac blinked at the pretty young woman who was smiling at him and glanced around. “Are…are you talking to me?”

“Of course she is,” the equally attractive man with the girl said brightly. Both of them looked to be a few years older than Isaac, tanned, blonde and fir. Frankly, they looked like they had wandered out of a CW casting call.

So…not really the type of people Isaac was used to being approached by randomly.

“No,” he finally replied, answering the girl, his fingers clenching on the small bag he held. Usually, he avoided the mall, but it was almost Lydia’s birthday and, as he now found himself somehow in her social circle, he’d braved the mall in search of a gift. He had a feeling she didn’t shop at the thrift stores where he felt more comfortable.

“Well, you do! It’s a fun job, good people and an awesome discount. There’s a casting happening…why don’t you come by?!”

A week later, Isaac found himself back at the mall, starting his first day of training. Scott had teased him playfully when Isaac told him about his new job, but overall he’d been supportive. It was nice.

“Hi, I’m…Isaac, hey!”

Turning from where he was shoving his sweater into his small locker, Isaac saw Danny Mahealani smiling at him. Like Isaac, he wore A&F jeans and no shirt, but looked far more comfortable than Isaac felt. “Danny…you work here too?”

“Yeah,” Danny agreed with a wry smirk. “The token minority model, you know. But hey, I’d rather be out front than stuck in the back room.”

Isaac didn’t really see what was so bad about being in the back. He nodded though, because he had seen the other employees – models, who worked the store floor. They were all white.

“So…how’d you get roped into this?” Danny asked cheerfully. “I mean, I’m here because a job looks good on the college resume and the employee discount is nice.”

Isaac shrugged. “I thought it might be nice to have a job that didn’t involve the cemetery,” he admitted. Technically, he still owned the cemetery, but he couldn’t run it till he was over 18 (he got a small stipend from the appointed executor each month), but he didn’t want to work there if he didn’t have to and it would be nice to repay the McCalls. He was sure Melissa wouldn’t accept money from him, but he could help stock the fridge, which was not cheap with two teenage werewolves in residence.

Danny winced slightly at the comment. “I can see that. Well, this is about as different as you can get. Did they take your headshots yet?”

“Yeah,” Isaac agreed. That had almost made him turn down the job outright, but Derek had given him a pair of contacts to wear. Apparently, contacts were all that you needed to avoid the lens flares werewolf eyes caused in pictures. Now they were tucked away in his locker with his street clothes. “Do employees actually think they’re gonna get hired to be real models?”

“Models, not employees,” Danny corrected with a smile. “And management likes to tell us that the people in the ads are ‘models’ like us, but…nah, I don’t buy it.”

The irreverence made Isaac smirk. “So, what do I need to know to be a model? I told the recruiters I’m not very outgoing.”

“They probably liked that,” Danny told him, then struck a pose, chin raised, a little aloof and gave a short nod. “Hey, how’s it going?” he drawled, then huffed and relaxed. “That’s how we’re supposed to greet every customer.”

Isaac figured he could manage that and nodded.

Giving him an encouraging nod, Danny said, "C'mon, I'll show you how to idle around and ignore the mercilessly looped soundtrack of 90's Eurodance meets gay bar music and go nose blind to the scent of Fierce."

The store did reek of the Cologne and when he'd told Scott about his job, his Alpha had given him a tube of peppermint lip balm. Isaac knew from growing up around the graveyard that it was often used to mask bad smells. He fished the tube out of his pocket, swiped a bit under his nose before applying it to his lips. He was a little startled to see Danny's eyes followed the motion, staring at his lips for a moment before averting his gaze.

In all honesty, Isaac could count on one hand (with fingers to spare) the number of times that he'd felt attractive to others. That night at the rave with Erica, when they'd danced with Jackson and that day when Allison had kissed him to give him confidence. He'd never considered that Danny, smart, popular, nice Danny would even offhandedly consider him. It was nice and a little boost of needed self-esteem.

He gave a bashful smile. "Lead the way."

***

“So, after I got recruited, Jackson used to come by and hang around. ��Not that he wanted a job, but he expected them to fall over themselves in an attempt to hire him. He hasn't been back since he was told he was too short to be a model," Danny told Isaac as they folded a table full of jeans and t-shirts that someone had ruffled through.

The story made Isaac chuckle. "That must've driven him nuts," Isaac said quietly. Jackson did not take kindly to anyone who didn't appreciate his (and Isaac could grudgingly admit it) impressively good looks and he took any criticism as an attack.

Danny snorted. "I don't think anyone left lacrosse practice withou bruises for the next week," he said, then peered at the pile of clothes in front of Isaac. "Your folds are really neat. Are you sure you haven't worked retail before?"

"Dad was very particular about how I kept my things," Isaac told him, placing a pile of perfectly folded T-shirts on a shelf. So far, the job wasn't that bad. They greeted shoppers, straighten things and sprayed everything down with Fierce multiple times a shift. The smell was almost overpowering, even with the peppermint lip balm.

The only part he didn't like was the hands customers. Girls kept touching him and it made him nervous. They giggled and flirted and Danny played along easily. Isaac wished he had half of the other young man's social graces.

As Danny set his own shirts on the shelf, Isaac stiffened. He could hear giggles and the click of heels that warned of approaching girls. Quickly, he ducked around Danny, tucking himself into the space between the other boy and the wall.

“What are you..." he began, but then one of the girls, who obviously didn't go to Beacon Hills High (because everyone knew Danny) and thus didn't know that she was barking up the wrong tree, placed a hand on Danny shoulder.

"Excuse me!" she said brightly. "Could you help me?"

Smiling brightly, Danny turned. "Hey, how's it going? Sure, what can I help you with?"

"Can we get a picture with you guys?" She said eagerly, her friend waving a cell phone.

After the first request for a picture, on his first day, Isaac a ducked out back and put his contacts in and had taken to wearing them whenever he was working. Too many people took pictures of them to risk going without them.

"Aw, are you shy?" one of the girls asked, grinning at Isaac, who, okay, maybe he was trying to hide behind Danny. Both taller and broader, it wasn't a particularly successful attempt.

"Sorry," he murmured sheepishly. “I’m just not used to girls I don’t know talking to me.”

“Oh, I don't buy that," the other teased, then blinked. "Unless... Oh, are you gay?"

Isaac simply blinked, because he'd never been asked something like that quite so bluntly. Well, his father had been blunt, but far less polite and there had been fists involved, so Isaac didn't really consider that having been asked.

Danny, bless him, filled the silence with a laugh. "No, that would be me. Isaac's just a little shy."

"Bi," Isaac blurted before his brain could veto the decision. It was not something that he'd said aloud before, but he felt like he should say something. "Shy, yes, but...also bi."

"Hey Team Bisexual!" One of the girls quipped, holding up a hand. After a brief moment, Isaac gave her a very awkward high-five.

Soon after, the girls wandered off and they returned to folding the clothes. Isaac appreciated the Danny didn't push the topic, but he finally said, "I've never actually told anyone before."

With a soft smile, Danny assured him, "You don't need to tell people unless you're comfortable with doing so. It's your choice... But thanks for telling me."

Isaac took a moment to think about that, then returned Danny smile. "I am. Comfortable, I mean. For the first time in a long time. No one I care about would be upset if I told them." He was sure Scott and Melissa would be supportive and he didn't think Derek particularly cared. Stiles would probably be far too interested and would ask him horrifying questions, but even that wouldn't be out of malice.

Werewolf hunters and the bi-annual supernatural evil things that tried to kill them aside, Isaac felt his life had improved remarkably since becoming a werewolf.

TBC….

#fic #mahealahey #teen wolf #isaac x danny

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stereksummerexchange · 8 years ago

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Don't be late

@your-lovely-bird - Happy summer :) hope you’ll like this little ficlet!

by @letsplaysomethingdifferent

Teen - canon character death

Being strung out, Derek goes to visit his best friend Erica in Beacon Hills. Little did he know that he would meet someone who would change his life.

Part 1

Derek had always been one to invent stories. When he was little, he would spend hours and hours modeling little men in playdough and making them do whatever scenario he had in mind.

Growing up, he always had had multiple notebooks, always keeping one close to hand so he could write what his overflowing imagination dictated him.

High School years had been the best for Derek. He had joined the writing club, wrote short stories for the school’s journal and was excellent in every literary subject.

Oh, how dearly he had wished to become a writer. It had tormented him for months before he had been able to talk about it with his parents. But, as he had imagined, Talia and Robert had been against it, saying he would earn nothing and be unhappy for the rest of his life, that it was only a hobby and not something he could live with.

Nevertheless, Derek had still been able to study English literature and, at the end of his studies, his father had found him an internship in one of his editing company in New York City. The job was fucking hard and tiring but Derek had played along for a few years so his father would be proud, as if everything was perfectly fine.

Sometimes it seemed to be so. Derek had made a few very good friends among his colleagues. They would go on holidays together, eat dinner at least once or twice a week. They were keeping each other away from a burn out.

But most of the time, Derek would go home after a long day of work and burst into tears. To him, his life was nothing but a big failure.

It had lasted for many years. Subway, work, sleep. Sometimes friends, sex and alcohol. Always the same. Until that 24th of December, when finally going home for Christmas, Derek had found his family house in flames.

Later, the police had stated that the cause of the fire was criminal. A crazy woman burning everything she could find. She had been locked away and Derek had found himself with nothing left but an economic empire.

Derek could have stopped working. It was quite the opposite and he intensified his work, spending more than fourteen hours a day at the office, taking no pause to eat or breath a little. It felt like living on his father’s legacy would be a big fraud. And he couldn’t disappoint him like that.

It had lasted for a year, until that day in January, when everything had fell apart. Derek had come back to his flat and collapsed on his bed, crying his eyes out. How could he have reached this point?

Trying to calm himself down, he took his phone and dialed her number.

« What’s up D? How are you still awake at that hour? »

« I need you Erica » he whispered.

Part 2

It had been a week since Derek had went to the town of Beacon Hills, California, where Erica was living. He had sent a quick email to Boyd, his other best friend and superior (even if technically, he was his own boss) to tell him he was taking some holidays and had left every manuscripts at work.

Boyd had replied when Derek was on his way to the airport

Boyd: That’s probably the best decision you took in months. Take all the time you need, you deserve it!

And so Derek was there, lying on the couch in Erica’s flat, slowly waking up from a night full of bad dreams when she suddenly bursted into the room and shook him.

« It’s time to wake up D! Come on, let’s go eat breakfast! »

« Huuuuuuuuu… Why? »

« Not working doesn’t mean you have to stay in bed all day! COME ON » she added, pulling on his arm « pancakes are out of the pan, and I need to eat before I go. »

Derek sighed, finally letting himself being dragged to the kitchen. He fell onto a chair as Erica, already wearing her work clothes, put some pancakes in two plates, along with a glass of orange juice. They ate in silence. Derek liked that about her. She had been very comprehensive and never urged him to talk when he didn’t want to. But this morning…

« Have you ever worked on that story? » She suddenly asked.

« Which one? »

She took a sip of juice.

« You know… The one you told me just after the funerals. »

At those words, Derek tensed. But she didn’t stop.

«About that lonely man, trapped in a wolf body because he feels guilty for his family’s death? And then he goes around the world to search for redemption. »

« Why would I have done that? » Derek replied, his throat dry.

« I don’t know. Maybe because you coming here, in Beacon Hills, is only the beginning. Maybe you’ll find it here. »

She stood up and took her jacket of her chair. She planted a small kiss on Derek’s forehead and she was about to leave when she said:

« Oh, and there’s an internet problem. If you need to use it, you’ll have to go to the coffee shop down the street. See you tonight! »

Derek sighed again. It was the really last thing he wanted to think about and he did everything in order not to. But something felt wrong. In fact, it was what Erica had said. Everything had come from a dream, maybe more a nightmare, he had had the night of the fire. And he was here, many months later, still trapped into it, with nothing more than remorses and regrets devouring his sanity. Maybe… maybe Erica was right. Maybe it would ease the burden a bit.

Derek ate some leftovers for lunch, took a quick shower and put a big grey sweater and a leather jacket on. He packed his MacBook, a notebook and his pencil case before leaving the flat. He quickly walked into the cold air air of January until he reached a coffee shop and entered it.

It was crowded but really cute, full of house plants, wooden furniture and arts on the wall. The atmosphere was warm, full of laughter, and for the first time in forever, Derek felt really great.

He made his way up to the counter and ordered a large cappuccino. His drink in hand, he turned to find somewhere to sit. But no. Every seats were taken. Apart one at a table for two near a window, opposing a young man. The guy had electric blue hair, an undercut with the top hair falling on the sides of his head. He was wearing a black knitted turtle neck pullover and was working on a paper pad.

Derek walked toward the table and cleared his throat. The guy raised his tired eyes at him, a magnificent mix of warm liquid amber and hazel color behind thick black framed glasses.

« I’m sorry to disturb you… » Derek began « but the shop is full and I was wondering if it was possible for me to sit with you? »

The man stayed silent for a moment before nodding.

« Thanks » Derek answered, smiling.

He sat down, opened his bag to take his notebook. He then began to write down every details he could remember about his dream. But, from time to time, Derek couldn’t help looking at the stranger in front of him, wishing he could see what the man was furiously drawing, feeling a bit weird every time they were catching each other’s eyes.

It went on for an hour or two, during which Derek tried to work as much as he could. But the further he went through his memories, the sicker he got.

A sigh escaped his lips as he stretched his arms and back. It was impossible for him to work without another cup of coffee. He stood up and, as he was going to the counter, he caught a glance of the other man’s empty cup.

Derek ordered a second cappuccino as well as what the guy had drank. Careful not to drop what he had in hand, he walked back toward his table.

« Here» he said, setting the guy’s cup in front of him before sitting with his own drink.

The guy looked at the cup then at him, surprised.

« You… didn’t have too. » he said, in a very beautiful voice that gave Derek goosebumps.

« I know. But it seemed like you needed it. » Derek answered smiling. « Anyway, I’m Derek Hale. »

« Stiles Stilinski. »

Derek nodded and started to work again, trying not to look at the other man, Stiles. What he didn’t feel was Stiles’s stare lingering on him, more and more as the minutes passed.

It was 5:30pm when Derek’s phone buzzed.

Erica: On my way from the preserve. Gotta get a bunch of chicken wings for tonight but then, what do you think about a movie marathon? I seriously need to see all the harry potter again.

Derek grinned, typed an answer and began to pack his bag. He was going to walk away when he saw Stiles looking at him, with something on his face that looked a little bit like disappointment.

« Maybe I’ll see you around » he said, smiling, before going out of the coffee shop.

Part 3

Unknown: Hey so, umm… You may have left your notebook here

Me: who is it?

Unknown: yeah sorry. It’s Stiles, from the coffee shop

Me: Oh yes! Hi :)

Stiles: Hi :)

Me: How did you get my number?

Stiles:Dad’s the sheriff. Let’s say I have access to some data base

Me: You broke in, didn’t you?

Stiles: We started speaking a minute or so ago and you already know me so well

Me: ;)

Stiles: Anyway, got your notebook!

Me: Please tell me you didn’t read it…

Stiles: …

Me: Oh no…

Stiles: Ok. I may or may not have cast a glance into it

Me: Oh god

Stiles: Dude, what I read was amazing!

Me: I seriously don’t think so

Stiles: The story line is fucking great!

Me: You read everything

Stiles: Maybe…

Stiles: Anyway, if you’re up for a drink, we could meet so I can give it back to you

Me: You seemed really tired today… You’re sure about it?

Stiles: Let’s say I had troubles coming up with ideas for work… Plus you’re were pretty distracting so…

Me: what

Stiles: I mean, I had an hour of sleep, and some coffee so yeah. Drink? I owe you one for this afternoon. Maybe two since I read your notes.

Me: Why not?

Stiles: amazing! Martin’s lounge, in 30 minutes? It’s a bit out of town but it’s the best bar I’ve ever been to.

Me: Sounds perfect! See you there :)

Stiles: :)

Part 4

Derek had told Erica he had forgotten his notebook somewhere, tried to hide he had to meet a super handsome guy to get it back but, as he was facing her wrath for dumping her in the middle of a movie, he eventually told her everything. Needless to say that she was more than thrilled for him to go out on a « date », as she put it and made sure he was all fresh and neat.

Derek took her car, looked for the address and, 30 minutes later, he pulled over on a parking spot near the Martin’s Lounge. There was no denying he was nervous. But it had absolutely nothing to do with fact that Erica had called it a date. But then, he entered the bar.

Derek would have noticed it all. The cosy atmosphere, the vintage leather sofas, low wooden tables and the jazz music played in the background. If it hadn’t been for him.

Stiles was sitting in an armchair, a bit further away from the entrance. This time, his blue hair was up on his head, a bit messy, and he didn’t have any glasses. He was wearing black leather pant and a simple short-sleeved white t-shirt that was revealing arms entirely covered with tattoos. Derek took a deep breath and walked to him.

« Hi »

Stiles looked up and a big grin suddenly appeared on his face.

« Hi » he said, his voice sounding lighter than before. Then, moving his hand to another armchair on the other side of the table, he added « please, sit down. I’m feeling a bit inferior right now. »

Derek executed himself and as soon as he was sitting, a petite red hair girl in a red dress came to them.

« Hi Lyds, how are you? » Stiles asked, still smiling.

« I will be better as soon as you will have spend a few dollars. »

« And when I thought you were my friend… As usual please. »

« A Singapore sling. And for you? » she asked, turning toward Derek.

« A martini please. »

She nodded and moved to another table. Stiles looked quite embarrassed. He took Derek’s notebook out of his bag and handed it to him.

« I’m sorry. For reading it. »

« Oh… »

« I have no excuse. And I don’t ask you to forgive me. I was just a bit… away. Work, as I told you. »

Derek looked at him. He would usually mind a lot if someone touched his stuffs, especially this kind of very personal things. But, and he didn’t really know why, he was not bothered when it was Stiles.

« Don’t worry. »

« No but really! »

« No but really, yeah! Don’t worry! It’s not really important. Please, can we not talk about it anymore? I’d rather learn a bit more about you! »

« And what do you want to know? Why always a singapore sling? Why do I have blue hair? »

« I was more thinking about your work. »

« Oh, ok! »

Just at this moment, the girl (Derek would later learn her name was Lydia) brought their drinks. Stiles took a sip. He put his glass on the table before showing his arms to Derek.

« What? »

« My job, I’m a tattooist. I have always loved drawing. And… Today, I was trying to design a pretty big one I’ve been ordered. I had absolutely no idea and it was rather depressing.»

« And yours, you did all of them? »

« Oh no » Stiles laughed « A lot were made by my friend Kira. But this one » he showed him a log with its roots going around his left wrist. « It’s the first one I made. I was 16. »

« 16? » Derek exclaimed. « Your parents didn’t say anything? You told me your dad was a sheriff, didn’t you? »

« Yeah but… My mom had died a few years before, I was still dealing with it. And dad didn’t know how to react. We’re really good now, everything settled down. At that time, it was difficult. My roots were there you know? But what had gave me life had disappeared. »

Stiles looked Derek in the eyes, a sad smile on his face.

« Let’s not talk about this anymore ok? So, what do you do in your life? I’ve never seen you around before. »

« I live in New York. I work there as an editor and it has been really difficult lately so I just took a flight here, to see my best friend Erica and spend some time with her. »

« Erica Reyes? » Derek nodded. « Yeah I know her, she works with Scott, my own best friend. We should do something together sometime. » he grinned, silently promising Derek they would see each other again. « Anyway, tell me about your family! I want to learn everything about you. »

« I… don’t have any… »

« Ok so no brother or sister. And your parents? »

« No… What I mean… I… I lost them all a year ago… »

Stiles’s face dropped. For a moment, his beautiful eyes studied Derek.

« That’s all about them, isn’t it? » he suddenly asked. « Your story. »

« I realize now that it is… » Derek said, after a minute of silence. « And I don’t know how to free myself from it. »

« Maybe telling someone about it. It helped me. »

Derek watched him. He could tell he was being more than honest and, for the first time since that evening in December, he decided to trust someone and told him everything. From his teenager’s doubts about what he was going to do with his life to him wanting to please his dad and him losing his mind to do so. He told him about that night, when everything had burned into flames, leaving him alone with himself, with only his guilt to slowly consume him.

« Most of the time, I wish I had died with them. So I wouldn’t be alone. Not anymore. »

Derek laughed nervously, whipping the tears on his cheeks.

« I’m sorry » he said to Stiles after a second. « I’m being pathetic. »

« You’re not. I know what you’re going through. And no one’s asking you to be strong. You have every rights not to be. » Stiles took his hands in his own and held them firmly, his eyes locked with Derek’s. « There’s something I know helps. At least it helped me. The log on my arm, I did it to exorcise the pain of my mom’s death and in a way, it worked. I don’t want you to answer right away, but… I would love to do it for you. Just think about it. And for now, let’s drink. To you. Because you’re amazing. »

Derek smiled, squeezing Stiles’s hands.

He was falling so hard.

Part 5

One could have thought that it would have been a long process to think about getting a tattoo. Especially when the one who had offered to do it was almost a total stranger and someone you had a massive crush on.

But not for Derek.

He had texted Stiles the second he had been back home and the answer had arrived a couple minutes later.

Stiles : If you’re sure, that’s perfect for me :) I wouldn’t complain about seeing you again so soon. But on a more serious matter, you can come by on Monday, around 7pm. Stilinski & Lahey’s tattoo shop, near the Police Station. Just tell me if that’s ok!

Me: Amazing! See you on Monday :)

And that night, for the first time in forever, Derek fell asleep with the biggest smile possible on his lips.

****

The rest of the weekend went quietly. Derek had decided to spend most of it away in the coffee shop, mostly to avoid Erica’s constant questions about Stiles.

But also because (even if he didn’t quite understand it) he felt inspired again. As if the fact of being at that place marked the beginning of his redemption.

Stiles and him didn’t speak again that weekend but Derek didn’t mind. He was allowing himself to dream, to spend long moments thinking about the man and how he was, how he seemed to be genuinely interested in Derek. In a « more than friend » way, Derek hopped, but even if that was not the case, he would be happy to have that spark of light in his life.

Monday came and and so did stress. Derek spent the entire day cleaning the flat to try and change his mind, speakers blurting music. It did help him for a bit, keeping his thoughts away from everything but when, at 5:30pm, his phone alarm rang, he totally freaked out.

Derek took the longest shower ever, scrubbing every part of his body frantically, washing and conditioning his hair (something he never did) before trimming his beard.

He also spent an horrendous amount of time choosing his clothes and, when he finally opted for black jeans, a white t-shirt and some dark boots, it was already 6:30.

Derek took his parka, a fluffy scarf and his wallet and hurried down the staircase. He then walked for about half an hour before arriving in front of a small shop.

It was very discreet and, Derek thought, did not look much. The façade was painted with a plain grey with the name of the shop in black letters above the glass door. Derek looked at his watch. He was exactly on time and, taking a very deep breath, he pushed the door.

The inside was bigger than expected.The walls were made out of bricks, with tons of magnificent and divers drawing on it. A deep blue leather sofa and some vintage armchairs were disposed around a black coffee table. But the most extraordinary thing was a giant tree made out with meters of copper fairy lights, brightening the room and making it feel like everything was suddenly full of life, as if Derek was in a dream. Maybe, just maybe, he would see them, between the branches…

« Hey you! » a voice suddenly exclaimed « we’re closed! »

Derek jumped and turned around. A man, probably just a year or two younger than him, was starring at him from the other side of the room. The man had short light brown curly hair, blue piercing eyes and, Derek noticed, a few tattoos on his arms and also a bunch of piercings on his ears.

« Sorry I… I have an appointment I guess? With Stiles? »

The man looked at him for a second before moving to a desk and looking at a computer.

« Can you tell me your name? It will be faster. »

« Hum, yeah of course. It’s Derek. Hale. »

« Oh! » A smirked formed onto the man’s lips. « So, it’s you. »

« What… »

« Don’t worry. Stiles has been waiting for you the whole day. He’s in his studio. » He motioned over a closed black door.

Derek walked toward it, a bit taken aback by the other guy’s attitude. Without even thinking, he opened the door and came face to face with Stiles. They stared at each other for a second before Stiles bursted out of laughing, easing Derek’s mind immediately.

« I’m so sorry » Stiles said between two laughs.

« I should be sorry! I’m the one who showed up without knocking. I was a bit… distracted. »

Stiles’s face fell.

« You’re sure you’re still ready for tonight? »

« Of course! It’s just… the other guy was a bit weird… »

« Isaac? Don’t mind him. If he said something to you, just forget it. »

« Is he working here? »

« Yep. He’s a piercer. One of the best I’ve ever seen. Plus, he’s a true artist, making every jewel. They’re literal piece of art. But don’t tell him I said that please? He’s bragging enough already… »

It was Derek’s turn to laugh.

« I promise I won’t. »

Stiles smiled.

« You can put your stuffs on the coat rack near the door. Then you’ll join me over here. » he said as he was moving to a high architect-styled desk.

Derek complied before going to where Stiles was sitting. The young man was wearing a white shirt with its sleeves rolled up, revealing his numerous tattoos. His hair had changed colors. It was black where it was almost entirely shaved, and the longer hair, who was falling on the sides like that first day in the coffee shop, was of a soft pink.

« So » Stiles began when Derek came to sit beside him « I’m gonna show you what I came up with, ok? »

« Well… » Derek paused. He had thought about it since the other night. « I want it to be a surprise. Like… I know you’re going to say that it’s weird » he added, seeing Stiles’s expression changing « but I trust you. And I know it’s going to be great. »

« If you say so »

« I’m sure of that. »

Stiles smiled.

« Well, let’s start it. »

****

Derek had lost all notion of time. He didn’t know if it had been a minute, an hour or several since they had started. All he could feel was the pain of the needle piercing his skin, mixed with the warmth of Stiles’s gloved hand, moving across his back. Apart from the buzzing sound of the machine, the room was silent. And in a way, Derek was glad. He wouldn’t have been able to speak coherently.

Finally, it all stopped. Derek felt Stiles moving so his head could be next to his.

« How are you? » he whispered.

« A little dizzy, I must admit. »

Stiles smiled.

« Ready to see it? »

Derek nodded. Stiles helped him getting on his feet and, together, they moved toward a big mirror. Stiles placed Derek so it would be facing his back and gave him another, smaller, one. Apprehensively, Derek took it.

Three magnificent wolves were there, drawn as if they had been made with an ink brush. Those three wolves were seen from the side, each of their tails reunited in the middle of the tattoo, so all three of them could form a triskel, on Derek’s upper back.

Derek did not realize he was crying until he felt tears dropping on his shoulders.

« I’m so sorry… » said Stiles, hesitantly « I should have insisted on showing to you first, at least you wouldn’t have something you don’t like on… »

But he was cut as Derek wrapped his arms around him, burying his face in the crook of the neck of the younger man.

« It’s amazing » he whispered, voice twitching. « It’s everything I needed. »

****

They stood there, silent, for a long time, embracing each other. But ultimately, Stiles broke the contact so he could apply some antiseptic cream and a plaster on the tattoo. Derek put his t-shirt back on before following Stiles to the main room.

« So, how much do I owe you? » Derek asked, after taking his coat and scarf.

Stiles looked at him, thinking.

« Dinner. » he finally said.

« What? »

« You heard me. You’re offering me dinner. »

« Is this your way of asking me on a date? » Derek grinned.

« … Maybe? »

Derek bursted out of laughing.

« You’re kidding me Hale???!! »

« Sorry! But, you have to admit it’s a pretty lame excuse! »

« I’m taking it back! Don’t ever come and see me again! »

Derek’s laugh quieted down. He got closer to Stiles and, leaning toward him, kissed him on the lips.

« I would love to. »

He kissed him again, lightly, before going to open the door of the shop.

« I’ll pick you up at 8 tomorrow evening. »

Stiles smiled.

« Don’t be late. »

#stereksummerexchange17 #sse17 #sterek #submission #fic

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darling-i-fancy-you · 8 years ago

Text

Colour Soulmate AU - Jughead X OC / Part 2

[LONG A/N: You guys asked for it so you guys got it, I don’t love it as much as the first part but this is as good as its gonna get cause I’ve wrote it and rewrote and then rewrote it again and then went to the SBC and asked them all about it (thanks @kingpendleton u my boo). So without further ado, here ya go bbs.

Also sorry if you wanted to be tagged in this but didn’t, I had a lot of people requesting to be tagged and now because tags aren’t really working well plus the amount of you asking is just a super crazy amount I’m going to stop adding new people to the list - honestly I totally appreciate and love your guys support but I feel like its a bit pointless when I know tagging isn’t directing anyone to my work and you’ve still just got to scroll through my blog to get to the specific fic. In light of this though I am going to seriously update my masterlist so finding my work shouldn’t be difficult and I will reblog it daily so people can stay up to date!]

Part 1

Word Count: 2106

‘Jughead, can you see in colour?’

The inky-haired teen quickly began to raise himself from the booth, he slammed shut his laptop and gathered it together with the papers that lay scattered across the table. He brought his knees up to his chest in a bid to jump over the back of the booth before a looming hand grappled his shoulder tightly.

‘Oh no you don’t buddy.’ Archie Andrews booming voice called out.

‘Let go of my shoulder Arch.’ Jughead replied sternly. ‘This is something that isn’t up for discussion.’

Erica’s gaze had shifted away from the view of the friends that sat around the booth, she stared intensely at the heart shape ring that sat upon her index finger as she vigorously twisted it around the cold and pale skin. She didn’t see how Jughead’s solemn stare flickered to and from her figure, or how Betty curiously contemplated the situation that had transpired, and she certainly didn’t see Veronica’s knowing smile.

At Jughead’s stern words and dark expression Archie’s hand eased upon the thinner teen’s shoulder, with ease Jughead shrugged the hand off completely and hopped out of the booth. His heavy boots stomped across the linoleum floor and left scuffed marks with the force. With a heavy pull the door was yanked open, it slammed loudly behind him as the tall boy left into the dark and bitter night. Three of the four teens remaining in the booth watched as his figure would briefly be illuminate under the harsh street lights, until eventually the inky night enveloped his body and he was no longer in sight.

‘Erica, do you have anything you want to tell us?’ Betty’s soft voice broke through the tension.

Erica spluttered, her pale freckled face was now adorned by a deep rose blush that stretched from underneath the dark layers that she wore. Her face nervously twitched, eyes not knowing where they were safe to land - they shifted from Betty, to Veronica, to Archie, before finally resting on the table. A pale brown milky residue lay stickily upon the surface, the last remaining remnants of Jughead Jones’ earlier presence.

‘Why would I have anything to say?’ Her voice came out in a heavy shake, she knew in her heart that the game was up.

‘Isn’t it just a little curious how he knew your exact eye-colour?’ Veronica teased.

‘What are you trying to say? - That I’m Jughead’s soulmate?’ Her voice was desperate, a silent plea to just leave all of this messiness alone, to let her heart fester in the hopeless pit that it had grown accustomed to.

‘No I’m saying that that much is pretty damn clear. I am asking however – is he your soulmate?’ Her voice was stern yet sincere.

Over the many years of friendship that the group had accumulated it had passed any of their notice the adoration that was shared between Erica Mars and Jughead Jones. Archie had always noticed from a young age how Jughead’s angst-ridden gazed could be softened just by the mere mention of Erica’s name. He had noticed how his smirk would shift into a smile whenever she laughed and he look with pride whenever one of his well-timed comments could induce a laugh that made her head fall all the way back. When he thought no one was watching Jughead could be found routinely to be watching Erica, transfixed by her every little move.

Silent conversations held between Jughead and Erica did not go unheard by Betty Cooper and Kevin Keller, they would always catch the quick shared glances, the small smirks or the mouthing of innocent jokes across the booth. Whenever Jughead’s exhaustion became too much for him to bear gently he’d rest his head on her shoulder and close his eyes momentarily; a gentle smile would don the lips of Erica, content with the comfort that she could offer. The group had been almost convinced that the fates had made a mistake when it came to Erica and Jughead and were disheartened to learn that they could only see in black and white. It was bittersweet to watch such an innocent love blossom in front them.

‘I’m not prepared to talk about this.’ Erica’s words almost mimicked those of Jughead, as did her actions as she gathered her belongings and swiftly jumped over the booth.

A light sprinkling of white snow was made its way down from the night sky, dancing in the streetlights and falling to the floor melting almost immediately as it hit the pavement. As she exited the diner small white flakes began to gather in her hair and upon her eyelashes, she lightly fluttered them in a bid to shake them off. Erica had one destination in mind as she stuffed her blueing hands into her jacket pockets and made her way down the dimly lit street - it was the one place she knew she’d find him.

Jughead Jones was thirteen years old and it had been a perfectly average day. Perfectly average until he had arrived home that afternoon from school, the house seemed eerily quiet, items were missing and from his view in the hallway he could see smashed glass strewn across the linoleum flooring in the kitchen.

That very night Gladys drove away into the moonlit sky with his sister Jellybean in tow, and although the world was already grey to the young Jughead Jones it somehow seemed that night to become much darker.

With his Dad was nowhere to be seen come seven o’clock and Jughead’s stomach was ferociously rumbling, he went to the only other place that felt like home – Pop’s Chok-Lit-Shoppe. It was there that he found one of his very best comrades, Erica Mars, perched at their designated booth.

‘Hey Jug.’ She smiled sadly as he slid into the booth opposite the young girl. Word travelled fast in Riverdale but if Erica knew anything it was only her smile that gave it away.

‘Did you order me a burger?’ He asked cheekily, his light tone told Erica all she needed to know – for tonight he didn’t want to talk about it.

‘Of course,’ she chuckled, ‘and a chocolate milkshake to match!’

The night continued in much the same manner she nudged him playfully under the table with her foot, and her exaggerated laughing had not gone unnoticed by Jughead. The weight of the world fell from his shoulders as she sat there snorting at one of his poorer jokes and stealing a handful of fries. In that moment the harsh fluorescent lights blinked and captured the emerald from her eyes. Jughead blinked momentarily and when his eyes reopened a pair of bright and curious eyes shone back at him. It all seemed so simple, her wide and earnest smile dazzled back at him as he watched on in awe as colour bled into her face. The electric red of the neon signs flickered and illuminated her pale skin, a smattering of ginger freckles bridged Erica’s nose and her smiling mouth blossomed into a rosy grin.

In that moment at Pop’s it had seemed so simple, a lifetime with Erica Mars was something that Jughead could invest in, the only pressing matter seemed to be whether she would or rather did see things as he did. Just as it happens in Fairy-Tales however the clock struck midnight and Mr Tate ushered the two youngsters out into the parking-lot, informing them that he had rang their parents to come and pick them up.

Parents.

Reality hit Jughead like a tonne of bricks just as the warm summer-night air hit his face. The humidity in the air stuck to the walls of his lungs like a thick paste and the dread that he had avoided for the majority of the night clung heavily to his heart.

His parents, he thought, were supposed to be soulmates – and soulmates, he thought, were supposed to be forever.

He lay that night in bed, once his drunken father had picked him up in an old beaten-down unfamiliar car, and thought about himself and Erica. He listened as his father slammed open draws and smashed the last remaining photographs that hung on the walls of their family home.

If this was what having a soulmate did to you, Jughead concluded, then he didn’t want to have one.

The ladder creaked under her weight as she climbed her way up to the roof of the small building. The sound meant she had already alerted him to her presence but he hadn’t bothered to take a look at whoever was joining him on the roof of his old abode. His neck curved heavily downwards, his chin almost touching his chest as he sat in solemn contemplation.

‘Hi.’ Came the soft almost inaudible voice, over powered by the cold wind that whipped at her hair.

Hesitantly she made the careful journey towards the other side of the roof and perched herself alongside the boy; the roof was wet from the melting snow and the moisture soaked up into her jeans. She shivered at the feeling but tried to push it towards the back of her mind, there were bigger things to be concerned over right now.

‘I only used to show black and white movies here so I could forget. So I could pretend for a short time that my life wasn’t a complicated and clichéd disaster.’ His voice shook as the cold embedded itself in his body. ‘It’s the same reason I only wear blacks and greys.’

‘That’s deep.’ She joked, trying to relieve some of the built up tension.

Erica’s teeth chattered against themselves and her petite frame shook in the painful chill, without hesitation Jughead extended his long arm and pulled her into his body. Despite the awkward confusion that lay in each of the others minds the action felt natural – they melded together almost perfectly. Erica looked up at the boy who continued to stare into the snowy abyss, the white dust sat lightly in the places where cars once parked, where fun was once had and many memories made.

The cold wind bit at Jughead cheeks and nose which were now a furious shade of red and crystals began to form on his long dark eyelashes. A pink tongue slipped from between blue lips and swiped vigorously at the chapped and dry skin before his lips opened and let out a frosty breath of air.

‘After my parents split, the notion of this whole soulmate crap it terrified me, it’s why I never-’ His sentence trailed off into a void of uncertainty.

Blue eyes met brown ones, crestfallen stares shared between them. Erica scanned Jughead’s eyes; when illuminated by the bright screen of his laptop they appeared washed out, all hints of the shining blue gone and instead replaced with a static grey. They were tired from the endless staring and writing, yet electric from the copious amounts of coffee and sugar he would have consumed – a walking contradiction. In the dim yellow light of her bedroom, during the lazy nights watching clichéd horror film after horror film, his eyes were almost emerald or perhaps turquoise – she could never quite decide. Yet sat here in their age old spot on the roof of shack at the drive-in, the midnight sky casting dark shadows along his nose and jaw, his eyes were the deepest blue she had ever seen. She had never considered Jughead’s icy blue eyes to be warm, it was an adjective that she felt was better left to be associated with Archie or Veronica’s deep brown eyes, but tonight in this bitter cold they were the warmth she was so desperately searching for.

Under her intense scrutinizing gaze, Jughead’s stare narrowed.

‘What?’ The question wasn’t intrusive or harsh, it was barely above a whisper and left through a mouth that hardly parted as it spoke.

Erica sighed into the cold air, her warm breath mingled with frosty night.

‘Blue.’ She almost mumbled. ‘Your eyes are blue Jug.’

In the pale glow of the stars and the moonlight two shadows drew themselves closer and closer to each other, the larger figure lifted up his long fingers and rested them gently along the others jaw. Two pairs of lips met, crystal flakes trapped between them, it was chaste and brief – a silent promise that alluded to the future they were certain to share together. Their foreheads pressed against one and other, hot breaths of air were formed by the gentle laughs they shared before they evaporated into the midnight sky.

In time each would tell their story.

Tag List

@nadya0128 @audreyxhorne @superoriginalteenwolf @sparklingriverdale @livierinforeva@iwannadiehere @lostinpercyseyes @every-day-is-wednesday @mysticmurder@assonanceambiance@murderyoursoul @fuck-i-dont-care-anymore’t-care-anymore @satanwithstardust @itsjaynebird@phanofmydreams @pendletonthethird @doktorswho@frickflop @kingpendleton @an-enigmatic-avenger @captainjacksparkles@casismyguardianangel @lost-in-wonderland-x @the-winter-imagines @multiversegalaxygirl@lumiele @ineedtoorganizemybookshelf @florenceivy@yazminmcd @wishingtobelost@gottalovetheapocalypse @httpjugheadjones@whatsbetterthanfantasy @shameless-danni@caitsymichelle13 @iamthe80strash @ri-verdale@divastar777 @mcheung0314@jamiemcrimmon @imanangelyouidjit@virusiswhatiam@chilloutenya @kashfghjkl@fizzylollipop12@imperfectanatomy

#Jughead Jones #Jughead Jones Fic #Jughead X OC #Jughead X Reader #Riverdale Fic #Riverdale #Riverdale OC #Riverdale AU #Soulmate AU #Fic

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