#pretend the town has a zombie problem?
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Tan and Bun: Faked their own deaths to escape the notice of the corrupt officials and continue their investigation without anyone knowing it's them.
Also Tan and Bun: Wandering around town visiting literally everyone they know including but not limited to: a brother who tried to kill one of them, ex-colleagues mourning their deaths, a high school student (who they then take home with them), and an actual murder suspect they've just uncovered....
#manner of death#tanbun#thai bl#boys I love you and I can see your vision#but#I have to question the execution#like what the plan?#pretend the town has a zombie problem?
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fire and brimstone ;
prompt from @flashfictionfridayofficial !! word count : 864. context : 30+ hours post zombie outbreak, stopping for a break. content warning : death [zombie] mentions.
“Do you think we’ll go to space again?”
The stars are twinkling tonight, light pollution washed out more than usual. In the back of my mind I know that means that half the county is dead and gone, corpses shuffling around with the rest of ‘em. I try to keep my thoughts away from that shadowed corner as it threatens to overtake me, but that is easier said than done. Still, I refuse to be cowed by this internal negativity.
“Now I’ll go along with a lot of things for your benefit, but I’m not going to sit here and pretend to believe that you have been to space.”
This earns a giggle, and with a start I realize that it is the first one I’ve heard since that conversation beneath the magnolia trees. It’s hard to reconcile that this particular conversation was only a day and a half ago; in truth it was another lifetime, when we worried for funerals and going away parties, ice cream sundaes and the merit of fruity toppings against chocolate. Thirty-six hours, give or take. Unbelievable. When I want to take her hand this time, I do not resist.
(continued below cut)
“I meant as a species, but I like the way you think,” she replies, in that voice that means she’s really putting some thought into it. The knuckles of her free hand scrub absently at the underside of her chin - just short of the typical finger and thumb posed for deep thought. “Have you ever wanted to see the stars up close?”
I haven’t, but I don’t think there is a soul in this county - dead or alive - that thinks in the same way that Sienna does. When we were kids, someone spread a rumor that she was from another planet, not just another state. It was cruel in the way that kids are cruel, but she seemed to have no problem with it even then; she has always been sunshine incarnate, and I am glad for that now.
“I don’t think we can actually see the stars up close,” I say rather than voicing any of that, because that way lies danger. “Fire and brimstone and all that.”
“Fire and brimstone?” She huffs out a little laugh, scarcely more than an exhale. Her thumb is caressing slow and light across the top of my hand, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. It takes everything in me not to stare down at our interlocked hands. She continues, “and here I thought your side of the family didn’t go to church.”
“You have to admit that the stars are more interesting than what some god may or may not have in store for us.” There are few in this town that I would dare say any of this too. Religion is the lifeblood of the American South, and it is horrible enough that most of my family lives openly in sin. It’s easier if it goes ignored. “At least we can see the stars.”
“Some people think that they can see the gods.”
I look at her now, but she is not looking at me. Just as under the magnolia trees, her gaze is focused skyward. Though the stars enchant me, twinkling above and so distantly, Sienna is right in front of me now. Sienna, whose magic awoke in my defense. Sienna, who speaks of past lives as if she is collecting them. Sienna, who will make it home with me or be the end of us both. Maybe then I can gather the courage to tell her the truth - about me, about my family, about us. The possibility of it all is terrifying and invigorating at once, and when I squeeze her hand, I garner her attention at last.
“Are you sure you don’t have anyone that you want to look for?”
She was in foster care after she lost her parents, but I don’t know much more than that. Were they kind? Did they treat her well? Were they consistent? Did she keep in touch with them after she aged out of the system? To that end, there are many things I don’t know about Sienna’s adult life - obstacles that could stand between the realization I made just over a day ago. I have to ask again, or I will drive myself wild with the questions rattling about my brain.
“Just you,” she says in a way that feels like she must know all of the words that I do not dare speak. She glows, and then I realize that she is truly glowing, golden magic shimmering just beneath her skin as if it runs through her veins. Maybe it does. She releases me and stands, immediately offering me her hand once more. “Come on. We can get a little further tonight.”
Never could I have imagined that it would be so difficult to cross the county. Never could I have guessed that it could take this long, or that it would be this full of danger. Never could I have expected exactly who I would have at my side, nor how much I would want her there.
I take her hand, and we go.
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Now follows the most rambly post ever. Was outside for maybe 20minutes, cuz I had to go to the bank real quick and now you get a little look into my brain where my thoughts wandered off 😭😆 (Creepypasta related)
So basically first I was like, okay if a zombie apocalypse would start right in that moment, what would I do? If the zombies would be fast, I'd probably die, if they're slow, I would use the nearest rod to stab the zombies in the head with it (u know like rods of little signs- idk how to describe em lol) and then my thoughts went further and I was like "What would I do, if I would see Slenderman standing in the distance? Probably I would think first, that I'm tripping or something or would be terrified. But then, I would test my luck and walk with my back towards him. I would ask for forgiveness when it comes to my stupidity, cuz I'd wanna ask him some questions- knowingly that he has no mouth to answer lol. Then I would play like the "yes/no" game with him and just ask sht like "are you here to kill me?" or stuff like that (okay tbh, the whole way I had a conversation with him that way, but I wanna write it differently lol) and he would answer by tapping me on the shoulder (which is kinda terrifying to imagine lol) I started to think further like, what options would I have? Would I be able to just leave and pretend like it never happened? And just keep living my life? Or would I only be able to decide, whether to die right in that moment or become a CP myself? What would be the requirements? I mean, if I would have to decide between dying and becoming an CP, it's obvious what I would choose, but if I would be able to choose this life or becoming a CP, I'm not so sure...... Then my thoughts went back to the requirements and what they could be? What if I would have to kill someone who's dear to me? and depending on how I kill them, my "powers" would be. Or what If I had to kill myself, where it also depends on how I do it... Or maybe it doesn't matter at all and you just get a random power (Which is usually never the case with CP's so...) Then I thought that the option with killing someone you love (or someone else in gen.) would make the situation more interesting. Cuz then it's more of a "only take my life and keep the others safe" or "fck it, then I take someone's life with me, If it gives me a second chance in return" situation, u know what I mean? Like with the trolley game. And I weirdly would've less problems with killings someone than killing myself. Cuz I wouldn't know how to do it. I'm physically not able to hurt myself purposely. And I know already, who I would aim for when it comes to the kill...
Yea... Welcome in my twisted mind lmao
What was also fcking hilarious, is that while all that nonsense went through my head, a police car was constantly nearby.Before it showed up, I walked in the middle of the street and ignored every traffic light cuz... for what? the town is dead at night. Besides the police car, I saw ONE other car and that's it. But when the police turned up, we were both at a traffic light in that moment and I didn't make any eye contact at all. I was just like "don't laugh, don't laugh, don't behave weird now" because- like- I mean- I didn't do anything, but I was literally thinking about murder the whole time... and having a police nearby felt weird, as if I was worried for them to know, what's going on in my head. But as soon as they were out of sight, I was back in the middle of the street again lol
(OMG while I'm writing this I listened to a cp playlist on spotify and a song came on that I had as ringtone for a long while- but the nightcore version! Omg I completely forgot about that song-)
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Week 1 / Day 3 - Couch to 80k
Write a list of problems, this could be an inspiration for a future story!
child trapped in an elevator with an hungry dog
girl has to marry a rich man to scam him out of his money but has no beauty or wit
ww2 troop trying to climb a hill under enemy machine gun fire
firefighter trying to save a kitten who climbed on a tree that has now been struck by a lightning and is on fire
jewish planning an escape from a concentration camp
magician has lost his wand but has to pretend he can still perform magic or the king will have him executed
aliens have arrived on earth but are not feeling welcomed when they seen all nukes pointed at their ship
dog has lost his owner and decides he will find a better one
a lamp has gained sentience, but his light is broken
man held at gunpoint for stealing a sandwich to feed his children
young guy wants to quit using heroin but has severe withdrawal symptoms
mobster has panic attacks every time he has to lie
policeman has to infiltrate a gang of motorcyclist but he cannot ride a motorbike and is afraid of doing so
a little spider has arachnophobia
a painted is scared of the color blue, but has been commissioned to paint a seatown
a writer has to write a list of problems in 10 minutes, but feels that most of his ideas are silly
a clown has to perform a show for kid, on the day his wife has passed away unexpectedly
a boy wishes for his dead grandma to be alive, she comes back as a brain-eating zombie
a musician decides to travel the world while playing his guitar, he runs out of money on the 3rd day
a college student has been faking all his grades, and today is graduation day
a family harbors a secret, they are all cannibals. The town police starts investigating people disappearing in the neighbouring woods
a killer has misplaced his apartment keys and is stuck outside, with bloods on his hands
a squirrel has forgot when all the nuts he buried before the winter are
pavlov’s dog has PTSD every time he hears a bell ring
a spaceship is heading towards a black hole, while all crew is suffering food poisoning from a meal with aliens the day before
a knight has betrayed his king and has become the queen’s lover
a farmer has all fruits stolen by naughty teenegers. They don’t know he used to be in the marine corps
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Fucking Redneck DarylxFem!Reader +18
Hi! I'm here again! This time I come with Daryl again. Thank you very much for the likes and comments that you gave me, I'm really happy that you liked my stories.
I hope you enjoy it as well!!
Fucking Redneck Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader +18
One shot. M. Smut.(Yes, again, I don't know how to write anything else)
N/A: I have a problem with Daryl Dixon season 2 and 3 so… this is what came to my mind. It could be another part from the first one shot I posted here the last week… more or less…(It should've been a long story but I don't feel ready for a long fic… sorry) and I tried to make Daryl more Daryl but I don't know if I succeeded... Sorry if he sounds weird or funny, I'm still developing him in my mind.
Sumary: Sophia is gone, Dale is gone. You didn't know any of them but it hurts anyway…
You are exhausted, tired, your whole body trembles, your hands, your legs. You gasp uncontrollably, you feel like your head is going to explode at any moment. Tears mixted with the drops of water and sweat that run down your face. You look at your hands and still see blood on them. But they’re clean. You immerse them back into the river water and rub your skin with desperation. You lost Dale that night and you can't get it out of your mind when Daryl took Rick's revolver and shot him to end his suffering. You didn't know Dale, you hadn't been in the group for revolver start, in fact even you don't consider yourself part of them. However, Dale was a good man, wise and kind, he didn't deserve to end up like that. Especially when he was right and one mistake caused the group to break up.
Your hands are starting to turn a reddish color because of how hard you are scratching your skin, the mud and small stones from the river are hurting your skin, but you don't seem to mind. You just want to stop watching Dale die, over and over again.
A hiss cuts through the air and the thud of a dead body falling to the ground, forces your head up. Not far from where you are, a rabbit has an arrow pierced from temple to temple. Damn Daryl Dixon, he had eagle eyesight and lethal aim. You don't need him there right now.
You were actually on your way home when it all happened, you were able to escape the checkpoints and return home in search of your parents, when you arrived they weren't there and someone had looted their things. After giving yourself some time and allowing yourself to cry about it you had gathered what the people hadn’t taken and went on your way. You were on your way out of town when you heard a shot, the piercing screams forced you to run in their direction and you discovered it was the Greene's house. That's how you met the Atlanta group, that's how you met Daryl Dixon.
You two have never had a good connection, for whatever reason, after you helped Hershel with his wounds, the man has never addressed you, not without growling or barking at the end of his sentences. You understand him being suspicious of you, you came out of nowhere, but you helped saving his life. At least he could stop snorting every time he saw you.
Now you’re frustrated, angry, devastated by everything that has happened and the last thing you need is his tough gaze on you. Of course things don't get better when he opens his mouth.
"What’re ya doin' here? ’s dangerous." And there it’s again, the snort coming out of his mouth.
"Not now…Leave me alone, Daryl..." You try to ask him, but his footsteps approach to you.
"Ya didn't know them, not Sophia, not Dale, don’t pretend to care ‘bout their deaths. Get up. You look stupid."
You have a temperament. You figured it out at the beginning of this whole zombie apocalypse thing. You've never been angry before, you've never yelled or argued with anyone, you've always been a calm, quiet person. You discovered that you could yell, and also you could hit people.
And that happens as soon as Daryl stops talking. You feel his hand grab your arm, ready to pull you up, but you roll over and turn away, with your fist clenched. You could punch him in the balls and leave Daryl lying on the ground, crying like a baby, but your goal is different.
His side.
Right where he wounded himself with his own arrow. You shoot your fist and hit accurately in his wound, it's already healed, but the area is still sensitive and you take advantage of that. Daryl screams in pain, lets go of you and cringes in pain, he takes a few steps back, letting go of the crossbow, touching where you hit him.
"Don't you dare tell me how I may or may not feel, you fucking redneck!" You yell angrily at him getting up, backing away from him.
You walk up to the rabbit, pick it up off the ground and pull out the arrow and throw it at the archer. You see Daryl holding his side, looking at you from the corner of his eye, his jaw tensing, enduring the pain.
You have a temper, but you're like champagne, once you explode and the foam disappears, you become nothing, and now Daryl's gaze, is giving you fear. You feel like you have to run away, right now. You walk away quickly, but you don't get very far.
Daryl has thrown himself on you, your bodies collide like two rocks, you run out of air as you fall to the ground. Daryl blocks your body with his. He grabs your wrists, above your head, rips the rabbit from your hands and throws it away. His gaze has turned a dangerous, dark, electric blue, his brow furrowed and his jaw so tight that you fear you'll see a trickle of blood spill from his lips at any moment.
"Tha's the second time ya've dared hit me..." He growls against your face and your body shudders.
Yes, this is the second time, the first time was several nights ago, before Dale's accident happened. You had found Sophia, Shane and the others shot all the dead coming out of the barn and the little girl caused a shock to the whole group, especially her mother, Carol. After that you witnessed the Greene family fall apart and the Atlanta group break apart, Daryl walked away from everyone, as if he wanted nothing to do with his companions.
The question of why you hit him was because Lori asked him for help, Rick and Glenn went looking for Hershel in town and she asked the archer to go get them. Daryl's answer was no. So she went looking for them by herself. Lori had a car accident, Beth went into shock, you went looking for Lori and when you found out this was Daryl's fault you went after him. Again, you were a champagne bottle about to explode. You were arriving at his tent when you see him arguing with Carol, since you came to the group you always thought that Carol and Daryl had a relationship, that he was Sophia's father and that's why he was desperate to find her, but apparently it wasn't, even the woman's presence seemed to bother the archer. He shouted something very close to her face and she instinctively took a step back. That was the straw that broke the camel's back.
You stood between Daryl and Carol and your hand shot out towards his face. The hit resounded violently, it had so much momentum that even the nedneck turned his face in the direction of the hit.
"Don't you dare speak to her like that again. Never." You say with a strong threat in your voice. "You're a complete asshole. These people love you, you're part of a group and you're just a fucking coward who's running away because he thinks he fucked up. They need you because you're important to them." You say again and you watch as Daryl's gesture slowly changes. "You can keep on out here acting offended and eating those nasty squirrels, but I swear if anything happens to Lori's baby, I'll break your face." You assure him, and again the froth is gone. You don't give Daryl time to respond, you grab Carol's hand and the two of you walk out of there.
After that, you don't know if because of you or because of what Carol told him before you arrived, Daryl made an appearance at the Greene house and rejoined the group.
"That's the second time you're an asshole." You grunt. "Get the fuck off me!" You scream again, but Daryl holds you tighter and places a knee between your legs to control your movement. His knee presses into your clit in his stride and you gasp.
You both fall silent after whatever that was came out of your mouth. Daryl's eyes fix on you once more and then roam your entire body. His knee presses again and your legs instantly spread apart.
Okay, he maybe is a fucking redneck and a total asshole, but you have eyes in your face and you know the man is fucking attractive. Thank you very much. And you maybe have fantasized about him once, but you certainly didn't expect this could happen.
Your breathing becomes agitated, your hands twitch nervously under his grip. His eyes continue to roam over you and when his eyes, black from the dilation of his pupils, bore into you, your whole body shudders and you get wet in your clothes and against his knee.
Oh God, you’re fucking dead.
“Ya really like tha, don't ya?” He says putting more pressure with his knee and your back arches in response.
You aren't quite sure what he wants to accomplish with that. You don't know if it's his way of embarrassing you, humiliating you or just the conversation has changed course and now you're really about to get laid. You don't know. And you aren't ready to regret it later.
You move once more under his body, his hand moves cleverly over yours and he holds your wrists again. He doesn't use too much force, he simply holds them there, above your head. Daryl's hands are big, short-fingered and thick, but he is strong enough to be able to manipulate you without any problem with one of them. You discover that his other hand is on your waist, practically all this time, but now he pulls your shirt up a little and that makes you aware of his existence.
“Daryl…” You gasp and you open your eyes in surprise. He's kissing you.
You're tight-lipped, your head spinning, your heart beating a mile a minute. His tongue brushes your lips and you finally give in. You open your mouth a little and he pushes inside with his whole body. His tongue bursts inside your mouth, catches yours, dominant, his teeth bite your lips, his tongue grazes your palate and you moan low. You throw your head back and he bites down hard on your neck; he bites, licks and sucks your skin leaving a reddish mark on the line of your throat. Your moan becomes prolonged and you clench your fists still above your head. Daryl's knee continues to press against your clit and now rubs lightly making the pleasure that expands with each rub more intense.
You moan louder and spread your legs wider. Daryl pulls away from you, releases your wrists and for a moment fear grips you. There it’s, now comes your humiliation. But to your surprise, Daryl pulls your shirt to pull it off over your head, you suddenly feel uncomfortable and try to cover yourself with your hands, but he avoids it, and he once again fixes his dark gaze on you.
"Don't do tha... I wanna see ya." Daryl says, but he releases your hands and traps your boobs over your bra, squeezing gently.
You bite your lip. Daryl unclasps your bra and his hands cup your tits and his fingers tighten on your nipples. You moan and arch, his mouth catches one of your breasts and bites down causing pain and pleasure at the same time. He licks and sucks your nipple at the same time as he twists the other one with his hand, increasing your pleasure. You arch back against the floor and your hand pulls the hair at the nape of his neck as he leaves your tit to kiss and lick your belly to the edge of your pants. Daryl lifts his head to look at you, you stare at him with bated breath and he spreads your legs apart, standing in between them, unbuttons your pants slowly pulling them down, pulls away from you to pull them all the way off and moves back up to you.
Your hands try to get rid of his vest and sleeveless shirt, but he stops you by placing your hands back on either side of your body.
"No." He tells you with a growl.
You don't insist, you free yourself from his grip and with your hand you caress his hard bulge above his pants. Daryl curses under his breath and pushes his hips against your hand. You smile, biting your lip. Apparently Daryl Dixon has needs too. You suddenly feel bolder. Now that you know Daryl is horny too, you aren’t going to miss your chance. You dare to take control, you sit up a little and your hand moves a little more against his erection, you hold it above the fabric of his baggy pants and he moans low. Your fingers unbutton his pants and in one tug you pull down his pants and his boxer briefs. His cock jumps out of the fabric and you take it fully in your hand, moving your hand up and down its length feeling it getting harder.
Daryl holds your chin and kisses you again with intensity, this time you reciprocate in kind, gasping against his mouth, tightening your grip on his cock a little more. Gasping against your mouth and pulling your hand away, Daryl lays you down on the floor once more and on the way, he rips off your panties and positions himself better between your legs. He lifts your hips up entangling your legs around his waist and his cock rubs directly against your folds, his cock spreading your wetness along its length while still moving against you, making his cock tip rub and slap against your clit, sending you little flashes of pleasure that force your hips to move against him wanting the contact to be more intense, but he doesn't increase the speed of his hips. Your mouth opens in a muffled moan as his fingers work their way inside you and the sensation blocks you. He continues to move against your clit but now his fingers also move inside you, in and out, slowly. You moan loudly, throw your head back and arch your back. Your nails dig into the hunter's knees in response, Daryl bends his fingers inside you, touching a spot inside you that makes your whole body jerk.
"Fuck..." You gasp in surprise and you can see a smug smile on his mouth.
You never thought Daryl was inexperienced, but maybe the thought crossed your mind that he was one of those guys who only sought his own satisfaction, but you were wrong. His mouth, his hands, his fingers, they know exactly where and how touch you and they are bringing you to the edge of your orgasm. You feel your skin go goose bumps, your fingers writhe and pleasure bubbles in your belly on the verge of overflowing.
Then his fingers stop.
Your pussy throbs, the emptiness he has left inside you makes you snort in frustration, but you don't have time to protest, his cock squeezes at your entrance and pushes slowly every inch into you. Daryl slips inside you with a guttural moan, he needs a moment, so do you, it's been a while since you've been with anyone and with the whole undead thing your attention to sex had almost vanished, so now you need to adjust to that old familiar feeling and you’re mentally grateful that Daryl prepared you earlier. Because he's well endowed.
You groan and dig your nails into his skin as he starts to slowly pull out of you, carefully, almost pulling out completely and then pushing back in. The cry of pleasure dies inside Daryl's mouth as he leans in to kiss you. His hand holds your head, gripping your hair tightly, his other arm grips one of your legs to pull you deeper and he begins to move fast and hard. A new moan comes out of your mouth, your arms wrap around his shoulders digging your fingers into his vest, you try to keep up with his hips, but Daryl seems desperate. His mouth devours you again and again, his fingers tangle in your hair pulling on it, his hips don't stop moving at that angle that gets you going crazy and the orgasm forms again, intense, in your belly.
"Daryl!" you moan in desperation and his mouth bites your ear.
"Cum...! Cum for me... I wanna hear ya." He whispers in your ear in a raspy voice and his lunges become more erratic and desperate.
He's on the edge too.
His hand releases your hair, finds space between your bodies and caresses your clit urgently. His face hides in the hollow of your neck and bites into your skin, demanding. And you can't handle it and scream. You moan loudly and arch on the ground, your leg digs into the small of his back, your toes crinkle and your nails dig into his vest once more, the pleasure coursing through you is so intense that for a second you think you might pass out. Daryl feels you tighten around his cock, the spasms of your orgasm causing your walls to trap him and squeeze him hard, driving him to the edge. With his face hidden in the hollow of your neck he moans with a choked groan, his hot breath makes your hair stand on end and in one last strong thrust he is locked inside you, cumming intensely, prolonging his own climax, making your body shudder once more at the hot sensation of his cum inside you. His hips move slowly again, delivering a few final thrusts until he finally stops again and slowly pulls out of you. Your breaths are ragged, sweat bathes your bodies, and you are filled with dirt from the riverbank. You feel your heart hammering hard inside your chest, you have your eyes closed trying to catch your breath, Daryl isn't much better than you, but he gets up first. You open your eyes as you hear him put his pants back on, his hands wipe the sweat from his forehead and face, he looks at you once, biting his lower lip nervously, he picks up his crossbow and picks up the rabbit from the ground. You remain sitting on the ground, Daryl turns to look at you.
"Never touch ma huntin' again." He tells you and disappears from there.
And that's it. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. See you in the next story! I'm working on something about Trucker Norman...Let’s see what come up!
#norman reedus#norman#normanreedus#norman reedus x reader#daryl dixon#daryldixon#daryl#daryl dixon x reader#oneshot#smut#twd#the walking dead
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Putting this under a read more because I’m just kind of rambling about my own interpretation of it all. Definitely not trying to put anyone on the spot, just kind of musing about the topic of. Jay and his murderousness. Y’know, thinking out loud and considering how I came to the conclusion of “Jay never killed anyone before coming to the Hospital”. (This is also going to be ALL over the place and have so many run on sentences and repeated words that it’ll be physically painful to read, probably. Continue at your own risk lol.)
I’m definitely part of the crew that never thought Jay murdered someone pre-Hospital. The impression I always got was that he was someone who was definitely misanthropic, low empathy, and had a boring, shitty job in a boring, shitty town (ie he implied he used to work in IT (which can really suck sometimes especially if it’s in somewhere like a call center) and thought the grey zone getting meatsploded was “good riddance”.) but was content to sit there whining about how he deserved better than this because it meant he never had to like. Take responsibility and try to improve his life.
Like... there’s plenty of people out there who are just like that and never actually hurt anyone, yanno? There’s a lot of people who think that if the world ended or if there was a zombie plague, etc etc, and all of the social rules we had went out the window that they would tooootally come out on top. Not like an apocalypse prepper, but just the sort of person that has fantasies about that despite not having any actual combat or survival skills. Just a general douchebag. But I think there’s a wide gulf between “might makes right douche who likes to think about how cool he’d totally be if given the opportunity” and “would actually kill someone”. Hell, I’m sure there’s at least one guy in most peoples’ families like that- own a million guns and like to talk smack about “liberals” or whatever, but could never even go hunting because they couldn’t actually bring themselves to shoot an animal and would probably cry if they did.
Even now, as Joe, he phrased his hatred of customers as “Flair, haven’t you ever wanted to just-” and not just “Haven’t you ever just-”, which implied to me that he's always been a kind of guy to just fantasize about it and just grump about it when actually pressed.
I liked that better from a character/storytelling perspective too- as in the story saying “This is what would ACTUALLY happen if that kind of guy was dropped into one of his fantasies- he wouldn’t be a grand hero, he’d be a cowardly weenie that occasionally pretends that he’s doing something grand. A situation like that would really require some level of emotional intelligence and real problems can’t be solved with a twitchy trigger finger no matter how hard you try.” The idea of him being an actual serial killer kinda throws that point being made out the window or at least severely weakens it in my eyes.
So when he got infected and placed in the Hospital by the Parliament, it was pretty much the perfect encouragement for those bad impulses. Suddenly he wasn’t in the real world with all of the forced common courtesy anymore, he was in an evil fantasy hospital and *he* got to be the hero killing the *monsters*. Just taking that kind of guy and giving him everything he ever wanted. It encouraged his worst impulses and made him a worse person as a result- as explained by that one little infographic of Crash, Harold, and Jay all just wailing on each other in succession in a sort of “let’s all become terrible people together because i haaaaate you” feedback loop. And Crash ultimately turned out to not be a bad person, just a confused, ill, and manipulated kid. And Harold... well, who even knows with that guy, but he hadn’t been treated well either and was ‘better’ at some point. So it was easy to assume there was something similar going on with Jay. It was easy to get him to kill humans not because he had done it before but because by utilizing slobs, the Parliament had done a really good job of convincing him those weren’t actually people anymore and that, given enough time, they’d kill him first. That there’s genuinely no one he can trust, which wouldn’t help that hair trigger temper. (he says as much in Wakeup 099 and 060 in his journal).
So yeah, his personality came off to me as a guy who was getting to live the macho fantasy, but was too much of a miserable paranoid grump to actually “enjoy it”. The fact that he seemed to used to it all didn’t come off as strange at all because... well, by this point Fern is “used to it” too. She’s had a million things try to kill her and has killed them back and while she doesn’t LIKE it, she’s certainly not having crises about it every five minutes anymore. (I mean she might later after all of this is over, but. Compartmentalization and all that.)
And jumping off of that, I also assumed that the injuries were ones that the Parliament put there to give him a more “reasonable excuse” to be in the Hospital to hide the slob disease he had better/give the slobbification process something to “latch on” to. And the fact that they kept changing was because, as he stated in his journal, he wasn’t really sick- or at least, he never had any real injuries. The injuries never stuck because none of them were really “supposed” to be there to start with. Either that, or they were a side effect of the Hospital’s corruption, and they weren’t really putting him together right after each wakeup. There was no reason to guess that he got those injuries from attempting to kill a human being when there were other reasons much more in line with the ongoing plot and setting.
Also, my interpretation of the Karen thing was that... she was his ex-wife and they had a really nasty divorce, but they were divorced for 7 years, and then she died 5 years AFTER that, and he says he was over it (though granted “it” could well have been the murder but the more obvious interpretation was their marriage)... so there’s no reason for me to believe that he actually went and murdered her 5 whole years after they broke up. If just because, statistically, people who do that are more likely to kill their wives right away as a vengeance/”you aren’t allowed to win” sort of thing. And if it was a long term stalking/buildup thing... you’d think there’d be more signs of obsession. (It- I’ve taken forensics, so the trends and stuff are just kind of In My Mind at all times.) But he doesn’t mention her past one wakeup and the Bootleg Karen incident. So I get what was being intended there, the pieces just didn’t line up in a way for me to get that, whoops.
As for the increased hostility of Hospital staff towards him instead of Fern- that’s admittedly really difficult to tell because we saw Hospital staff NOT being aggressive towards him (Cathy), and plenty of Hospital staff have been plenty nasty towards Fern even if they didn’t mean it. So it’s really difficult to notice a difference between them. Especially considering Jay had earned his status as a “problem patient” by the time we met him by killing/trying to kill staff. Of course they’d be more aggressive towards him.
Plus... let’s be honest, the comic is pretty goofy along with scary. Most characters treat Jay like a joke. (Which he is. Rest in piss, bud.) Narratively, he was a threat but also very much... difficult to take seriously with his overblown reactions to obviously harmless things, or petulant refusal to communicate when it would make things easier(Like, when he just stood there in a room trying to not look at Fern instead of asking her to leave/for some privacy.). Stuff like that. Not to mention, kinda hard to tell where the slob corruption aggression ended and his actual inherent aggression began. Like, in the casu marzoil fight he was DEFINITELY “off”, but it was easy to play that off as the slob stuff taking a toll on his mind.
So the odd quirks of his personality, the overblown reactions to stuff, the weird sarcasm- it can be hard to tell what parts of that we’re meant to find genuinely concerning, and which parts are part of “the joke” of the general horror-comedy vibe of the comic. ESPECIALLY in a setting where everything is weird and people having unexpected reactions to stuff is a major source of humor, and especially when Jay had already been there so long that he had likely rearranged his worldview at least a little bit to reflect it.
Again, this is just me reflecting on how I came to that conclusion, and exploring the pieces of evidence I remembered to come to that conclusion. I went back through bits of the comic during this just in case I misremembered, haha. None of this is intended as “it should have been like this” or “everyone else is wrong”. I just really like thinking about and interpreting media as a hobby and I think it’s interesting how a single piece of media can be interpreted differently by different people.
You have maybe already answered this but is Jay from Awful Hospital kind of inspired by James Sunderland from SH2
He's inspired by the general idea of Silent Hill characters and survival horror protagonists! The Hospital responds to the nature of the patient's mind, but he was a murderer before he arrived there so the Hospital is much more hostile to him than it is to Fern.
I also meant this to kind of subtly imply that what actually landed him in the Hospital was an injury sustained while killing (or attempting to kill?) someone, but I'm not sure anybody ever guessed that. When he dies there and respawns with different injuries, they're the different possible ways his victim(s) could have fought back.
#text post#seriously im not doing this to be mean i just like talking about webcomics#check out greetingsfromeboncreek if you want to see me get REALLY into a special interest webcomic lol
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ʟᴏᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ _____________________
ʙʀᴏᴛʜᴇʀ’s!ʙᴇsᴛ!ғʀɪᴇɴᴅ!ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇs ᴀᴜ
sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You and Buck have always been close growing up but you two soon learn that the line that separates friendly and flirting is a lot thinner than you think.
ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: fluff, slight angst bc u got a shit bf, big bro vibes from bucky, smut duh [18+ minors dni (slight praise but also slight degradation, marking, belly bulge, squirting, fem!rec oral, unprotected sex, plz be safe irl, slight choking, pet names: darling&princess, i think that’s it lmk plz)]
ᴀᴜᴛʜᴏʀ’s ɴᴏᴛᴇs: hey assholes i'm back for the time being lol. I have a few ideas and fics I'm currently writing right now so do not fret.
______________________________________
You knew this was a horrible idea.
It’s Saturday night and you and your boyfriend were back in another night club after being kicked out from one just hours before. Daniel had gotten too drunk, as he always does, causing you to kindly ask the bartender to cut him off. Daniel didn’t take that too lightly resulting in a gnarly swing at the poor guy just doing his job.
Security threw you out and Daniel called an Uber to go where you thought was going to be your apartment but twenty minutes later you pulled up to another club practically on the other side of town. You yelled at Daniel but he pushed aside stumbling inside for yet even more drinks and mistakes waiting for him inside.
You sat at the bar simply drinking some water and snacking on some peanuts keeping your eye on your garbage boyfriend. You're constantly checking the time on your phone, annoyed with every passing minute. It was 2 am and you just wanted to go home and sleep. You were even debating texting your brother Steve hoping you could just crash at his place not too far from where you were but it would be incredibly irresponsible to just leave Daniel in the state he’s in.
So you waited and waited and waited. Your eyelids felt heavy and your energy was just completely drained. You were basically a zombie. It wasn’t until a guy approached your half asleep body that you felt a sense of alert. Daniel was shit-faced so you were practically defenseless.
“Hey,” the guy shouted over the music.
“Sorry, I’m not interested. My boyfriend’s-” you quickly said, only to be cut off.
“Don’t worry. I’m not gonna hit on you. I’ve got a boyfriend of my own,” he chuckled, making you breathe out in relief.
“Sorry,” you cringed at yourself.
“It’s alright; but uh, I hate to be the one to tell you this. You might want to check with your boyfriend,” he said sympathetically.
You pushed your way through the crowd scanning every face in search of Daniel. What did he do? Is he hurt? Did he get in trouble again? Is he getting arrested? Where is he-
“Daniel?” you said eyes tearing up a bit.
His arms were wrapped around another girl’s waist as he kissed her the way he kissed you. She practically moaned as their tongues slobbered disgustingly with each other. Their hips grinding against each other proactively as if you weren’t even there. Sadness turned to anger, and anger turned to rage, gripping Daniel’s short hairs and pulling his head away from whoever this girl was.
“What the fuck?” the girl complained, her eyes completely bloodshot.
“Did he tell you that he was here with his girlfriend tonight?” you're sad with gritted teeth. Daniel stumbled around still unable to register what the hell was happening.
“Oh my god, you forreal?” she said.
“Who fucking cares? She’s a prude anyway. I got more action with you than I did her in the past, what, six months?” Daniel slurred.
“You know what, you’re a fucking prick, dude. She deserves so much better than you; I bet your dick is small anyway,” the girl said.
“Fuck you too bitch,” Daniel spit.
“I can’t believe you,” you said.
“Oh, whoop-dee-doo, big fucking surprise. Babe, you’re a prude. Can’t you see it? I don’t know why I’m wasting my time with you anymore,” he practically puked out the words without any second thought.
“Fine, then I hope you enjoy the rest of your night, you fucking asshole,” you stormed away holding in the tears; he wasn’t worth it.
Almost three am and you just dumped your cheating lowlife boyfriend on the other side of town. Steve wasn’t answering his phone and you even wanna be near the club anymore. Walking speedily staring at your screen desperate to call an Uber home, you bumped harshly into a hard chest falling to the ground on your bum.
“Fucking hell, I’m so sorry, darling,” the man said helping you up by your elbows.
“It’s ok. I wasn’t looking- Bucky?”
“Oh, hey kid. What are you doing? It’s like three in the morning and you don’t live anywhere near here,” Bucky said, crossing his arms.
“Daniel got himself kicked from the one by our apartment and Ubered here instead.”
“So where’s Daniel?” Bucky scowled; he’s always hated that guy, so did Steve.
“Probably fucking some other chick in the bathroom,” your voice cracked.
“What?”
“It’s nothing; I just want to go home,” you cried.
“Hey, it’s ok; it’s ok. Do you wanna crash at me and Steve’s? He’s gone for the weekend with Peggy; you can stay in his room at least for the night,” Bucky offered; so that’s why Steve’s not answering his phone.
“I don’t wanna intrude on your night. I can just call an Uber, it’s fine.”
“No, it’s not. Steve’ll kill me if he found out I left his baby sis alone in the streets of New York at three in the morning. It’s not a problem, we were just bar hopping and I stopped drinking ages ago.”
“Are you sure, Buck?”
“Of course,” he smiled warmly at you.
“Hey, Nat!”
“What’s up?” a beautiful redhead approached you both.
“Gonna head home ; don’t do anything stupid,” he chuckled.
“You too,” she wiggled her eyebrows suggestively, “Catch you Monday?”
“You’re stupid. I’ll see ya,” Bucky laughed before grabbing your hand and headed towards his apartment.
“Thanks again, Buck. For letting me stay here tonight,” you said once you entered his apartment.
It had been a while since you hung out at your brother’s apartment but nothing’s changed. Typical men and their inability to change even a throw pillow. You set your small bag on the couch before Bucky led you to Steve’s room. There were pictures of you and him posing at Steve’s graduation; and later your own. Pictures of Steve and Bucky at a theme park, during a bar-be-que for Steve’s birthday. So many memories that Steve held onto in his room.
“Time really flies doesn’t it?” Bucky said, slightly startling you.
“Sorry,” he chuckled.
“No, you’re fine. But you’re right. Feels all these pictures were taken yesterday,” you reminisced.
“I got you some clothes if you need to change; I’ll give you privacy,” Bucky said, slipping from the room briskly.
You sat on the bed frustrated with everything. Your body was so drained from being up so early in the night, to the fight with Daniel. The past couple months with him were so awful. He was just so mean to you all the time and you didn’t know what you did wrong. Where did it go wrong? When did things shift?
"Is everything ok, darling?" Bucky asked quietly, knocking on the door when you hadn't come out after a while.
"What did I do wrong? I thought he loved me," you choked out.
Bucky sighed as he walked over to the bed sitting beside you before engulfing you in a warm hug. You cried into his shoulder and Bucky couldn't help the anger that bubbled inside him for your excuse of a boyfriend Daniel. He never got along with the guy and now he finally has a reason to knock his teeth in.
"You didn't do anything, I know it. That prick wouldn't know love if it hit him in the face. It's his loss. You deserve so much better than that asshole. Look at me, you're so beautiful and funny and fucking adorable; any guy who can't see how perfect you are, is a dense piece of shit."
"James," you whispered.
His words made your heart skip and your stomach flutter. But Bucky’s always had that effect on you. Even growing up. You weren’t going to sit there and pretend that hearing his words hadn't had a deeper effect than they would’ve coming from Daniel. Sometimes you wondered what being with Bucky would be like. You’re not the first to admit how handsome Bucky was and growing up you did have quite the crush on your brother’s best friend.
You don't know what it was, whether it was the alcohol still swimming through your veins, or just feeling so vulnerable being in Bucky's arms but you wanted him badly. You needed him, needed to feel something again. And you knew he could give it to you. You pressed your lips to his and in an instant his hands dropped to your hips pulling you impossibly close against his body. Your hands went to the back of his head as you kissed him messily. Your noses bumped and teeth clashed but it was the best kiss you’ve ever had.
“Fuck, your brother’s gonna kill me,” Bucky mumbled, almost to himself, as he slowly laid you down on your back.
Bucky’s hands trailed up your thighs, squeezing the soft flesh every now and then as he continued kissing you passionately. Your own hands couldn’t help but tug at his shirt desperately. When he did so, your breath was completely taken away. It had been years since you’d seen Bucky without a shirt.
Not only had he been quite skinny just like your brother back then, but not long after leaving for college with Steve he was in a bike accident that left him with ghastly scars and burns along his left arm and shoulder. Since then, it’s fair to say Bucky never really ever took his shirt off. It had taken years just for him to remove the glove he’d always wear to cover the scars on his hand.
“You’ve gotten so strong, James,” you grinned, reaching out to brush the flexed muscles running down his front.
He simply stared at you with an anticipating and anxious expression on his face, waiting for you to state the obvious. When you didn’t, when you pulled his head down to kiss him once again, he almost cried. Bucky hadn’t been with a woman in so long, afraid of this very moment. He knew at that moment, there was no one quite like you.
Bucky fell in love.
“Let me take care of you, darling. You’ve been so good to me,” Bucky whispered huskily in your ear as he trailed his hand under your own shirt brushing his fingertips along the underside of your breast.
His lips pressed softly against your hot skin along your neck before standing up between your legs at the end of the bed. He pulled your shirt off then played cheekily with the straps of your bra that you still had on. You smiled back at him with the same playful stare, reaching behind you to unclasp the material.
You could see the way Bucky’s eyes darken and his pupils widened as he stared in awe at your naked chest. Your skin bursted into chills under his hungry gaze even though you felt like you were burning up. Bucky leaned forward kissing down the valley of your breasts, nipping once in a while playfully before laying you back down. He shimmied you out of your bottoms easily, kneeling on the ground leaving you completely bare before him.
“You are absolutely stunning, princess,” Bucky whispered, running his hands up your thighs slowly.
“Bucky, please. I need you,” you whimpered.
“Don’t worry, darling. I promise I’m gonna take good care of you,” he smirked devilishly.
He pushed your knees open, eyeing the arousal that glistened between your thighs. He brought his fingers up to you slowly rubbing your slick around before finally pushing a thick and long finger past your folds. Your body shuddered solely at the foreign but pleasurable feeling, already moaning softly.
Bucky’s cock strained through pants upon hearing your beautiful moans; they were like music to his ears. He couldn’t help the way his hips would buck into the mattress in a desperate attempt to relieve some pain from his erection. Soon after he pulled his fingers from you slowly only to thrust them further in you, curling his fingers just right.
He brought his mouth down to you, wrapping his lips around your clit sucking harshly. You gasped and your back arched, overwhelmed with pleasure Bucky was giving you with just his mouth and fingers. All the times that you’d given yourself to your ex, he had never made you feel this good before, feel this full; let alone with his fingers. Bucky was taking his time with you solely for your own pleasure and it made your heart swoon.
Your legs trapped Bucky’s head between your thighs, squeezing as he continued to eat you out like a starved man. Your hands went to his hair pulling on his dark locks causing Bucky to moan deeply against you. You were so close to a release; your legs shaking violently and your stomach tightening.
“Come on, princess. Want you to come all over my face. Can you do that for me, darling?”
“Fuck!”
“Be a good girl and make a mess,” Bucky teased.
His fingers moved faster as he swirled his tongue around and over your clit just as quickly. You were becoming overwhelmed and that coil bursted in the pit of your stomach. You pushed Bucky’s face from you, shrieking with pure pleasure; Bucky’s kept the rapid pace with fingers as you fell over the edge.
“Fucking hell, that was so hot, princess,” Bucky said standing up; his fingers, arm, his chest was covered in your arousal.
“Did I do that?” your voice trembled.
“Because of me,” Bucky winked playfully.
“I didn’t know I could do that,” you let your head fall back on the bed as you briefly caught your breath.
Bucky grabbed his shirt that he discarded not long ago and quickly wiped his chest and arm before discarding his pants and boxers. He nearly moaned at the feeling when he finally freed his dick from the restraining garments. His hand instantly wrapped around the base before pumping himself a few times.
You brought yourself onto your elbows momentarily ogling at the sight of Bucky completely bare before you. Your mouth practically watered at the sight. Bucky crawled over you kissing you deeply and messily; but perfectly. He pulled away and you both had goofy smiles on your faces before bursting into a fit of giggles, Bucky’s head burying into the crook of your neck.
“You’re so goddamn adorable, princess,” Bucky’s voice was muffled.
“Bucky,” you whined.
You couldn’t resist squirming underneath the burly man. Although, you’ve just had what was probably the best orgasm you’ve ever had, you wanted more. You needed more; you needed Bucky.
“I got you, darling. I got you.”
Bucky wanted to tease you more, make you beg, but he was just as desperate to feel you as you were. He propped himself up on his elbows kissing you one last time before reaching between your bodies and lining his dick with your entrance. Both you and Bucky moaned simultaneously as he stretched you out; curses spilling from his lips as incoherent moans fell from yours.
“So fucking tight, princess. Squeezing my cock just right, aren’t ya?” he whispered.
“Fuck, I feel so full,” you whimpered.
Bucky began to slowly move his hips in and out of you deliciously. He quickly picked up the pace, jetting his hips rapidly making your moans louder. Bucky sat up on his knees and gripped your waist surely to leave bruises in your wake. This new angle surprised you and you couldn’t help the squeals and moans that left your mouth. You chanted Bucky's name like a prayer; as if it was the only word you knew.
Bucky watched you carefully, your face contorting with pure euphoric pleasure. He couldn’t help notice the small bump in your lower belly and without a second thought, he grabbed your hands pressing them firmly over your tummy.
“You feel how deep I am, darling? Fucking poking through,” Bucky grunted.
“Shit! Oh, it feels so good,” you moaned.
“That’s right, no one’s ever gonna fuck you this good again. This pussy’s mine now,” Bucky growled.
He took one of his hands and wrapped it around your throat squeezing the sides gently but firm at the same time. Your eyes rolled back and you moaned even louder, confident that the neighbors were sure to complain in the morning. Feeling Bucky’s hand around your neck was so exhilarating; you and Daniel had never ever experimented with anything beyond a pair of handcuffs, and that particular night went horribly.
You like being choked by Bucky.
“Fucking slut; you like this, don’t ya?” he came down to whisper huskily against your lips.
“Mh-hm,” you moaned with a devilish grin, your bottom lip resting between your teeth before your eyes rolled back again.
“Such a fucking beauty you are.”
Bucky hips snapped in and out and he knew it wouldn’t be long until he needed to release.
“God, I’m close, princess,” he growled.
His hand moved to rest on the back of your neck to pull you up so you straddled his thighs and your chest was flushed against his. Your sensitive and hardened nipples brushed against his slightly sweaty skin causing you to shudder in pleasure. Bucky’s lips attached themselves to your skin along your collar bones sucking harshly leaving purple marks all along.
Your legs shook once again as they did before and soon enough with an arched back and shout of Bucky’s name you came all over his cock. Overwhelmed with your sex, Bucky bit harshly on your shoulder in a poor attempt to muffled the loud groans and moans he elicited. Feeling your velvety walls squeeze tightly around him pushed him over the edge, coating your walls with hot ribbons on cum.
He fell forward almost crushing you but you were too tired to complain. Bucky continued to pepper soft kisses all over your skin whispering how good you were to him, how beautiful you looked. Just absolutely showering with compliments. You felt him slowly getting off you, probably afraid he was crushing you, but you didn’t want him to leave just yet.
“Don’t,” you whispered, wrapping your arms tightly around his body.
“I don’t want to crush you, darling.”
“You’re not.”
Bucky chuckled before settling completely above you, careful not to make you uncomfortable. Hardly any time went by when he felt the even and soft puffs of air hitting his skin, sure that you had fallen asleep. He picked himself up and with major guilt for his best friend, picked you up from the bed and walked you to his own room.
After he was sure you stayed sound asleep, Bucky grabbed a clean pair of boxers and hurried himself to Steve’s room again. He collected all the discarded clothes and the dirty sheets and tossed them in the washing machine to clean right away.
He hadn’t meant to fuck his best friend’s little sister, let alone in his own room, on his own bed, but it all happened so fast.
He went back to his room letting the clothes do it’s thing, and quickly grabbed his phone. He messaged Steve, telling him that when he got back for his weekend with Peggy, he really needed to talk to him.
Tonight made Bucky realize how much he loved you. Growing up, you two had always been close. But he doesn’t know when he stopped being friendly and instead began flirting. Bucky wanted to be with you; he knew it now more than ever.
Bucky watched your gorgeous sleeping form on his bed. He smiled to himself before opening the window; the sun already rising and those beautiful golden rays seeped through the glass window, making you look angelic. He crawled into bed cuddling flushed against your naked body. He chuckled softly when you realized he’d returned, wiggling even further into his arms.
“I love you, Bucky,” you mumbled.
“I love you, too, darling.”
And he really, and truly did love you. As did you love him.
=======================
ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛ: (For all my work)
@mathletemadison
@buckybarnes101-blog
@l-sofiamia-l
@pluto-grrl-blog
@partr1dge
@stefans-wife
@cordeliaswhore
@fleurlovesbucky
@povsmarvel0720
@missroro
Bucky Barnes Taglist:
@stolenxkissess
@bucknastayyy38
#marvel smut#bucky barnes#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes x reader#james buchanan barnes#bucky x reader#james buchanan barnes smut#marvel fics#bucky x y/n
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I think a lot of fans are too harsh on Addison's character and label her as "a privileged girl who wants to be oppressed".
Buuut... I don't think that's the way to analyze her. Let me tell you about:
Neurodivergency and body dysmorphia:
[SPOILERS FOR THE WHOLE "ZOMBIES" SAGA, SPECIALLY "ZOMBIES 3"]
First of all, at the begining of the saga, there are two things Addison hasn't been aware of during her entire life:
She is an alien.
Her mother has white hair like her (and she is also an alien).
Her mom didn't tell her anything! She knew the implications of having white hair and the actual reason to be shunned because of it, but Addison didn't. It doesn't matter if you're conventionally attractive or even "normal": When someone constantly reminds you that a body part of yours is an oddity, that you should hide it, and no one else looks like you... You end up developing body dysmorphia.
Also, not only do they live in a town where everyone dresses with only 2 or 3 colors and only serve 1 kind of ice cream, Addison wants to be a cheerleader, a highly aesthetically demanding hobby (and sometimes even arbitrary when deciding who's in and who's out). Of course she would be worried about being an oddity!! Her hair is not "super blonde". She doesn't even look like she is aging fast, nor like an albino person. Her hair is literally NUCLEAR WHITE.
That's why she simphatizes with Zed and the other zombies. Hell, even Zed suffers body dysmorphia at some points of the saga! The whole pretending to be human thing? In TWO movies? C'mon... That's why she makes such a big deal about both of them hiding their true identity: Society should not expect that from them (and it was physically hurting Zed).
That's also why she inmediatly felt welcomed amogst the werewolves: Not only did they live free of society's expectations, they also kinda looked like her with their white strands of hair, AND there was a prophecy about her. Finally, Addison found a reason to justify her physical oddity. That's why representation is important: We need to feel like we belong somewhere, that our bodies are nothing to be ashamed of!!
But Addison was not a werewolf, so she went back to square one... And then, the aliens appear.
Let's talk about the aliens: Not only do they look different than the rest of species, they also feel and act differently. Their social interactions are "weird and awkward", their methods and achievements are out of the ordinary, and they are looking for a perfect place specifically tailored for them, perfect to satisfy their unusual needs. You know, almost like neurodivergent and disabled people do??
Addison's problem isn't quite the same... Because she grew up on earth and learnt to adapt "the hard way" (ding-dong-ding-dong, MASKING *jazz hands). But she definitely felt a connection to them when she saw them arrive to earth, she was pracically hypnotized by the mothership.
And yes, she belongs with them!! Her hair turns blue once she accepts that fact (a canon AND methaphorical way to represent and improvement of her mental and physical health, *wink, wink*). And they end up living on earth because the point isn't creating a separated space for disabled people to live in: The point is for society to embrace them and stablish new mechanisms to make their lives easier and allow them to adapt.
This is obviously just a theory of mine, of course, and you don't have to think like me, but... I just love the idea of Addison and the aliens representating those ideas.
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double take
PAIRING ▸ park jeongwoo x fem!reader
GENRES ▸ mutual pining, best friends-to-read it to find out, high school au, lacrosse au,
WARNINGS ▸ foul language, mild aggression(???)
SUMMARY ▸ when two friends start questioning the feelings they have for each other.
PLAYLIST ▸ double take by dhruv
WORD COUNT ▸ 4541 words
A/N ▸ Honestly, I'm not totally satisfied with this piece but I've been sitting on it for awhile and I would just rather publish it. I had many thoughts as I wrote this piece and at some point as I wrote I started to question if I picked the right member for this story. But I stand by my decision with the member I chose.
I could say I never dare
To think about you in that way
But, I would be lying
Jeongwoo was lost in thought as he walked back home from school. It was something he wasn’t used to doing alone but lately it was something that had been happening more and more often. But still he wasn’t able to shake the feeling and get used to it. Without your presence around, without his favorite person to bicker with, Jeongwoo found he had more time to think.
“Jeongwoo-ya!” Jaehyuk yelled. When Jeongwoo got home he was still lost deep in his thoughts, so lost that he hadn’t heard his brother call out to him at all. “Jeongwoo!” Jaehyuck yelled again, this time right into Jeongwoo’s ear. Jeongwoo flinched and poked his ear a few times to make sure he could still hear before he turned around to glare at his brother.
“What?”
“Are you good? I said hello when you came home and you just walked right past me in zombie-mode, I even offered you oreos.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Jaehyuk gave his little brother a strange look, his eyes wide and mouth gaping open. He was surprised. “You’re even apologizing now? What’s gotten into you? Are you good?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I think.”
To anyone other than Jeongwoo, it was obvious that Jeongwoo was indeed not fine. “Cut the shit. Something’s on your mind, what’s wrong? Also where’s Y/N? I haven’t seen her in awhile, I feel like she used to always come back here with you.”
“Aish, I’m fine. Y/N? Well… I think she’s doing okay. Honestly, I haven’t seen her in like a few weeks. One day she told me not to wait up for her and so that day I didn’t. But the next day I did and the next day and the next day…” Jeongwoo said. He hadn’t realized that each day he had waited for you until he said it aloud. Why did he wait for you?
As if he could read Jeongwoo’s mind, Jaehyuk asked “why did you wait for her? Did she tell you to?”
“No, but we used to walk back together every day.” Jeongwoo paused, “I guess I just got used to it and expected things would go back to normal. She lives next door, we’ve been walking back together for years now.”
“How do you feel about it?” Jaehyuk asked, doing his best to contain his excitement and to stop himself from cheering like he was watching a soccer match. He’d been watching this budding relationship develop for years now. It seemed like his bone-headed baby brother was finally pulling his head out of his ass. His ship was taking off. Finally.
Jeongwoo paused. “I don’t know. How am I supposed to feel? We’re just friends right?”
“Right.” Jeongwoo could hear the snark in his brother’s voice as he turned around and walked into his room. “Maybe you should think about it a little bit more.”
“Think about what?” Jeongwoo asked, exasperated, now it felt like his own brother was acting weird too. Jeongwoo wanted to pull his hair out. He wanted his brother to stop asking him such cryptic questions, he wanted to ask his friend why she had suddenly stopped walking home with him, and he just wanted...he just wanted to go back to when things were normal.
“Jeongwoo. Tell me, have you ever thought of Y/N as anything other than a friend?” Jaehyuk said. Then he pondered it for a second. “Actually, you don’t even have to tell me. Tell yourself. Be totally honest.”
With that Jaehyuk disappeared behind the door to his room and Jeongwoo stood there once again in thought. He thought about the times you had spent walking back together, sharing stories, sharing secrets, and sharing songs. He thought about how vibrant and lovely you looked when you told him what crazy things had happened to you that day. The walks back home were so much more quiet without you.
To say he had never thought about you that way was...a lie.
And I pretend I'm happy for you
When you find some dude to take home
The next day of school Jeongwoo made up his mind to confront you about it. Okay, maybe not confront you about it but ask you if everything was okay. He found you sitting in your seat in the homeroom chatting away with your friends. Jeongwoo did his best to wipe his hands on his thighs as discreetly as possible before tapping on your shoulder.
You turned around, you could feel your eyebrows shoot up when you saw Jeongwoo standing there behind you. “Hey.”
“Hi, would you mind if I had a word with you really quickly?” Jeongwoo asked.
“No, not at all. Let’s go out in the hallway.” You said, getting up from your seat and smiling at your friends before walking out of the classroom, you spun around once you were a reasonable distance from the classroom door. “What’s up?”
“I just, I was just wondering why I haven’t seen you outside the school. So you know, we can walk home together. I’ve been waiting for you.”
You felt your heart flip-flop but you didn’t let it show. “Oh, well I joined the school’s ambassador program right? The foreign exchange students arrived. They asked us to stay after to help them get accustomed to the school’s culture and to answer any questions they have. It’s actually so much fun, my student is this guy from Japan! His name is Haruto! Jeongwoo, he’s so attractive.”
Before you could continue or Jeongwoo could respond, the bell rang. You tossed an apologetic smile over your shoulder before walking into the classroom and taking a seat. Jeongwoo made his way over to his own classroom and sat down for class. But he couldn’t focus at all.
‘Haruto? Who was Haruto?’ he thought. ‘How attractive could he be? There’s no way this Haruto guy was more attractive than he was right?’
Jeongwoo pulled out his phone to check his appearance. He felt his phone ring, he glanced up to see that the teacher wasn’t looking so he clicked on the notification to read the message he just received. His chest felt weird for a quick second when he saw the notification was from you.
Y/N: Was there anything else you needed? I’m sorry you’ve been waiting for me, you don’t have to do that now. I should have told you earlier but Haruto’s been walking me home after our program.
Jeongwoo: No, that’s all I was curious about. Thanks for the heads up. Haruto sounds like a cool guy. I’m glad.
Jeongwoo was not glad.
But, I won't deny that
In the midst of the crowds
In the shapes in the clouds
I don't see nobody but you
And suddenly, it was like Jeongwoo couldn’t not see you. You were everywhere. He started to take new routes home, he visited shops, studied in cafes, sometimes he even considered joining a school club just to stay after. But everywhere he went, everything he did he thought of you. He saw something in a shop that would remind him of you, he wondered what kind of drink you’d get at the cafes he visited, and even in the most crowded streets sometimes he swore he saw your face.
You were everywhere yet nowhere at the same time.
In my rose-tinted dreams
Wrinkled silk on my sheets
I don't see nobody but you
But Jeongwoo acknowledged he was truly and utterly screwed when he started to see your pretty face in his dreams. Your face wasn’t ever the problem. It was missing you. It was wondering if you had replaced him. It was wondering if you were with that new guy Haruto now.
At the end of two weeks of utterly horrible sleep, Jeongwoo thought to himself. He needed to do something about the situation and he needed to do it fast. The best person to consult? His hopeless romantic of a brother.
you got me hooked on to something
Who could say that they saw us coming?
Tell me, do you feel the love?
“Jaehyuk-hyung. Help me.” Jeongwoo asked, slamming his brother’s door open and barging into the room.
Jaehyuk paused his game, muttered something into the microphone and then took off his headset. “What’s up?”
“I like Y/N. What do I do?”
“Awww Jeongwoo has a crush! My baby brother has finally opened his eyes and is admitting his feelings to himself.” Jaehyuk teased.
“Yeah yeah. You get to jab at me this one time and then never again. You may be older than me but I’ve grown 8 cm in the last year. I’m just as tall as you now!” Jeongwoo threatened.
“I feel like I should be able to tease you about it for a little longer than just this once. It’s so obvious between the two of you. You both are such dummies.”
“What? What are you talking about?” Jeongwoo asked. “Nevermind, I don’t think I want to know. Just help me, what do I do? She’s been spending the last few weeks after school with another guy. I have to act fast and I want to impress her.”
“Well, there’s a long weekend coming up. What do you guys like in common?”
“We talk about music a lot. She and I have similar taste in music.”
“Why don’t you take her to a concert or see live music or something?”
Jeongwoo thought about it. The more he thought about it, the more he realized how good of an idea it was and it was possible, he saw an ad for his and your favorite artist that was coming to town soon. He rushed out of Jaehyuk’s room.
“Thanks hyung!”
The first thing Jeongwoo did once he got back to his room was search the concert details. To his relief, there were still tickets available and he snatched two as quickly as he could. He breathed a sigh of relief once he found the confirmation in his email.
His mind wandered over to what Jaehyuk had said earlier ‘it’s so obvious between the two of you’. What was so obvious? Was there something he wasn’t seeing? Did you feel the way he felt about you? Did everybody else see something between the two of you that neither of you had seen yourselves?
Who else saw them coming? Did you feel the love? Was it love? Whatever. Jeongwoo just prayed you would be available this weekend.
Spend the summer of a lifetime with me
Let me take you to the place of your dreams
Tell me, do you feel the love?
Jeongwoo: Are you free this weekend? I got tickets to Big Bang’s concert. We should go.
Y/N: I’m so down to go to Big Bang. Haruto is actually a huge fan as well. He got me a ticket! We should all go together. Haruto is really cool! I think you guys would get along amazing.
Jeongwoo could feel his insides curling up on each other and the expression on his face souring. But he sucked up his pride and answered.
Jeongwoo: Awesome.
Jeongwoo had to admit, Haruto was cool. The two boys had exchanged conversations about music, sports, and clothes. Everything under the sun. Except for you. He wanted to ask but he also didn’t want to ask. He was afraid of the answer.
He tried to keep his cool when he saw you interact with Haruto. His mind was clouded with questions, worries. Was he too late in chasing your affections?
About halfway through the concert you had started to get fed up by the way Jeongwoo was acting. Bang Bang Bang came on and you were not going to let Jeongwoo’s prissy attitude ruin this experience so you grabbed his hand and started jumping. Thankfully, the sour expression on your best friend’s face started to disappear. At the sight of Jeongwoo’s goofy grin, you felt a strangely warm feeling spread through your body and the warmth flowed up into your face. You tried your best not to think too much about it.
By the end of the song, Jeongwoo had his arm thrown over your shoulder and yours was loosely wrapped around his waist as the two of you jumped to the beat. At the very end of the song as you went to land the last jump, there was a sharp pain that shot up your ankle as you landed.
Jeongwoo felt his heart lurch as he realized you were about to slip. Without even thinking, he wrapped his other arm around you and held you before you could topple over. And then all of sudden it was like the world had paused. For the first time in a few weeks, Jeongwoo really looked at his best friend for the first time.
He looked into your eyes and asked the question that he was too afraid to say aloud. ‘Do you feel the love?’
And I could say I never answered
Those believers inside my head
But that's far from the truth
For the rest of the concert, Jeongwoo held you in his arms as the two of you swayed from side to side. You hadn’t realized how much Jeongwoo had grown in the past few weeks. You were thankful that you were facing the band and that Jeongwoo stood behind you with his head resting on yours. His arms were wrapped around your shoulders.
Truthfully, the last few weeks had been both torture and a sweet relief. You knew there were feelings simmering for Jeongwoo for a long time, but lately you couldn’t put a finger on it. He had grown up and he had grown up well. And then all of a sudden the feelings exploded and they became hard to tame and hide. So when you saw the flyer for the foreign exchange students program a few weeks ago, which would run after school, you snatched up the opportunity.
The time away from Jeongwoo did help you clear up your mind a bit. And you did make a new friend from it. Haruto. And Haruto was handsome. But there was no romantic chemistry. Haruto had his own romantic issues.
But this concert wasn’t what you were expecting. It wasn’t weird for you and Jeongwoo to exchange the occasional hug. But this felt like more affection than usual and it felt good. When Jeongwoo had caught you from the fall and looked into your eyes as he held you, your head started to spin, your thoughts and feelings started to run wild again. It was harder and harder to run from the truth, that you had fallen for your best friend, Jeongwoo.
To admit that was scary. To wonder what would happen to your relationship if things changed. What if he didn’t feel the same way about you? What if he became awkward and the relationship irrevocably fell apart? But what if he did return your feelings? But then what if it didn’t work out and it all fell apart? Suddenly, this didn’t feel so good anymore.
Jeongwoo wanted to hold you and never let you go. Unaware of the many thoughts flying through your head, he wished you’d turn around and look at him again. He wished he was braver, he wished. He wished for so many things but he was scared. But for now he was so happy, so content, holding you in his arms.
Don't know what's come over me
It seems like yesterday when I said
“We'll be friends forever”
“Y/N? Can we grab food after this?” Jeongwoo asked into your ear. A sudden storm of butterflies stormed into your stomach and you pretended not to hear him as you pulled his arms off of your shoulders and stepped out of his embrace.
Jeongwoo could feel his body heat in frustration. He had never had to fight for your attention, there was never any competition for it before. But now that he had to, he hated it.
“Where’s Haruto?” you asked, looking around for your friend, avoiding eye contact with Jeongwoo. Thankfully before it became too awkward you felt your phone vibrate. You tapped on the notification to see that it was a message from Haruto.
‘Haruto was great, but was he really so great he could undo the years of growing up together?’ Jeongwoo fumed silently as you read the message on your phone. He tried his best to compose himself.
Haruto: I had to go, sorry. I saw someone I used to know.
Shit.
“Y/N? What’s up?”
“Uh, Haruto dipped. He caught up with a friend.” you said. Jeongwoo did all that he could to keep the smile off of his face.
“So...you wanna grab food?”
“What?”
“Aren’t you hungry? Let’s go to McDonald’s! We should catch up. I feel like-”
“Actually, it’s kind of late Jeongwoo. And I’m kind of tired. Would you mind taking me home?”
This time, you did see the smile slide right off of Jeongwoo’s face. “Oh. Yeah of course.”
“Thanks Jeongwoo. You’re such an amazing friend to me.”
Constellations of stars
Murals on city walls
I don't see nobody but you
If Jeongwoo thought the two weeks leading up to the concert were bad, then the next two were absolute hell. Instead of moving forward, it was like your relationship had shot backwards.
‘Friend?’ Jeongwoo fumed. He was absolutely pissed every time he thought about it. He didn't want to be your friend. That much was obvious now.
Now it wasn’t just that the two of you didn’t walk back home together. Now you didn’t answer his texts. Now you didn’t even look at him in school. Now you didn’t even show up to support him at his sporting events. Now it sucked. Jeongwoo felt like a kid who had done something wrong and had been sent to time out. But what had he done wrong?
Had he overstepped his boundaries? Had he said something wrong? He hadn’t said anything other than ‘do you want to get food?’
But still Jeongwoo couldn’t get you out of his mind.
You're my vice, you're my muse
You're a nineteenth floor view
I don't see nobody but you
Jeongwoo thought he was being rational. He figured you needed space but he couldn’t figure out why. But when Jaehyuk dropped him off at lacrosse tryouts in the spring and he saw that you were in the stands chatting with Haruto he was absolutely livid. He could feel his heart face and his blood boil. Jeongwoo’s regular pleasant demeanor had evaporated in an instant.
But to be fair, all his pent up aggression seemed to work to his benefit as he exerted all of it on the field. And at the end of the day, his coach had told him that he’d done so well he might get a spot on the varsity team. That was an amazing opportunity as a Sophomore.
If Jeongwoo was livid seeing you at tryouts the first day. He was absolutely furious when he saw Haruto run up to you during breaks to chat. When he saw you hand Haruto a bottle of water with such a pretty smile on your face he wanted to punch something. Or someone.
At the end of the second day of tryouts, the coach called Jeongwoo into his office.
“I don’t know what they feed you kids over in Japan. But all four of you are good.” Jeongwoo heard once he was within hearing distance of the office. Japan? Jeongwoo’s mood soured when he saw a familiar lanky figure. He knocked on the doorframe to make his presence known to the coach.
Haruto smirked when he saw Jeongwoo standing at the door with a darkened expression on his face. But it was gone the second he turned back to face the coach.
“The two of you have demonstrated amazing capabilities and I am considering pulling one of you up to the varsity team. Take this opportunity seriously. Tomorrow is the last day of tryouts.”
On the third and final day of tryouts, Jeongwoo was relieved that he didn’t see you. He cringed when he realized how horrible that thought was but he wanted to be laser focused today. He wanted to do his absolute best. No, he wanted to be the absolute best.
But his game was off, Jeongwoo was antsy and his mind kept straying. During each break he didn’t realize his eyes were wandering everywhere just to get a glimpse of you. It was infuriating to see you here for Haruto but it was unsettling not to see you here at all. And it showed.
On the field during the last game of tryouts, it was Haruto and Jeongwoo facing off against each other. Face to face, right in front of each other, just before the whistle blew Haruto taunted his opponent. “You’re gonna lose your girl to me and now you’re gonna lose your spot on the team to me?”
If there was one redeeming moment of today’s tryouts it was this last game. Jeongwoo played as hard as he could, as ferocious as he could. But just for a second he lost control and played a bit dirty. The game ended when he was called for an illegal body check.
“Dude what’s your problem?” Haruto asked.
Jeongwoo turned around and got up in his face. “No, what’s your problem? Your comment back there? Absolutely uncalled for.”
“Please. Pull your head out of your ass. You’re hurting your friend. Talk to her.”
“Boys! Over here, now!” the coach hollered before Jeongwoo could ask for an explanation.
As soon as the two boys entered the office, he asked “Jeongwoo, how do you think you played today?”
“Not the best I could have sir, something was on my mind. I apologize, it won’t happen again.”
“Damn right, it better not. After seeing you play today I was about ready to cut you from the team entirely.”
Jeongwoo felt his heart drop to his stomach. Haruto felt awkward. He wasn’t sure why he had to be here for this.
“Haruto. I saw you say something to Jeongwoo before the last game. I don’t condone foul play. Whatever petty drama you both got going on between the two of you get it sorted out, fast. Because for now, you’re teammates. Junior Varsity. Here’s the deal, if the two of you prove yourself in the first few games I’ll pull you up. But instead of competing against each other for the spot, it’s either you both get a spot or neither of you will get pulled up.”
Jeongwoo stormed out of the office. He was so angry he hadn’t even noticed that he’d nearly trampled you.
You recognized the expression on Jeongwoo’s face. It was the worst-case-scenario face. It was rare, but when it was there that meant things were bad. You turned to see Haruto exit the office, he saw you look back at Jeongwoo then back at him. Haruto jutted his chin out towards Jeongwoo and gave you a nod, to which you smiled back in relief before running off after Jeongwoo.
Do you feel the love?
Feel the love
“Jeongwoo! Jeongwoo!” You yelled. He barely heard you or he ignored you, he was so pissed that he honestly didn’t know. But right now he needed to find a way to deal with the anger. He needed to go home.
But he couldn’t run away from you, not when you had caught up to him. He saw you standing in front of his path home, he looked over and saw that you had taken a shortcut that the two of you had found together years ago.
“What’s wrong?” You asked.
Jeongwoo rolled his eyes and made a move to step around you. But you stepped over so that you were in his way again. And when he stepped again. You stepped again as well.
“Move. Seriously.”
“No, not until you tell me what’s wrong?”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
You felt a chill run down your spine. This wasn’t Jeongwoo. Your Jeongwoo would never speak to you like this. Your Jeongwoo? Was he even yours? He was still your friend though, right? “We’re friends. Right?”
Jeongwoo scoffed. He knew he was being rude but right now it felt like the entire world was giving him a giant middle finger.
“I don’t know. Are we?”
“Why wouldn’t we be? Friends are there for each other in times of need. You’re obviously mad and you need a friend right now. And I’m your friend right?” you felt yourself get smaller and smaller the more you spoke.
“Are you really my friend? Because honestly, lately, you’ve been a really shitty friend.”
“I-”
“For years we’ve walked home from school together, for years we’ve hung out together, supported each other, we talked to each other, about everything. Then one day you stop meeting me in front of the school, then the next day you don’t tell me what’s going on or why or even to let me know not to wait up for you, then one week then one week turns into many weeks then all of a sudden. I feel like I’ve lost my best friend.”
“Jeongwoo, I’m sorry-”
“I was so upset at the thought of not being close to you that I made plans for us to spend time together. Just us. And you go and invite someone else. Then just when I feel like things are starting to get better at the concert, you iced me out. Completely. You don’t answer my texts. You don’t talk to me, hell you don’t even look at me anymore!”
You could feel the tears streaming down your face. Everything Jeongwoo had said was true. In being scared of your own feelings for Jeongwoo, you had severed your friendship with him bit by bit. And now you weren’t even sure if it was still hanging by a thread.
“I have spent weeks. Going over what I did wrong in my head. I have tried so hard to talk to you, to just talk to you. I had something I wanted to say to you. But I don’t think it should be so hard to just speak to my friend. But I’ve just come to the conclusion that I haven’t done anything wrong. I wasn’t the one who was being a shit friend. That was you. So let me ask you again. Are you really my friend?”
“I-” you paused for a second to swallow. “I don’t know.”
“Yeah. I don’t know either. And honestly right now, I don’t even think I want you to be my friend. Bye Y/N.” Jeongwoo said, stepping around you. This time you didn’t stop him.
You turned around and watched his back get smaller and smaller as he walked away from you, down the path that led you home. The path the two of you had walked along together for years. You sniffled as you wiped the tears from your face.
But what you didn't see were the tears that streamed down Jeongwoo’s face.
#park jeongwoo#yg treasure#treasure#treasure angst#treasure fics#treasure scenarios#watanabe haruto#haruto#yoon jaehyuk#kpop scenarios#kpop writers#yg family#high school#lacrosse#yg#treasure fluff#treasure smut#jeongwoo angst#jeongwoo fluff#best friends
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M’s Week on AO3
6/20/22
—
First Reads
the Witch and the Wolf: 151k words
Once upon a time, there was a boy named Bucky.
This boy was like others you might know. He liked to fight wolves, pretend he was a knight, and wage magnificent wars against the most villainous of villains. He played knights and vanquished all the villains he and his friends could imagine. But then he grew up, and the villains vanquished him.
And there was another boy; Steve. He was not much like other boys you’d know, or maybe he is, depending on the sort of boys you know. Wars were not his ideal session of make-believe. He liked to befriend wolves rather than fight them. He was a boy, but he grew up long before he should have.
Adventures always start with kids like that. Bucky was the boy who took too long to start the process of growing up and then grew up all in one night. Steve was the boy who grew up much too quickly to have been a boy in the first place. This story might sound like it’s about just one of these boys, but that’s not really true. It’s not really about either of them, because to say that it’s about one of them would be disingenuous. Candidly, this story is about what they grew up to be.
The wolf and the witch that befriended him.
I’m a Sucker for a Wild Boy: 9.8k words
Steve is a vampire who’s never met a werewolf in his life before. Bucky is a werewolf who doesn’t even know vampires exist. Naturally, neck biting means two very different things to them.
In which Steve goes for a midnight snack and accidentally gets himself werewolf married.
Dating During the Zombie Apocalypse and Other Problems with Bucky’s Love Life: 5.3k words
The problem with being a centenarian super soldier during the apocalypse is that it’s hard to find someone with shared life experiences, especially when half the dating pool has been turned into zombies. Although Bucky’s still not over Steve’s loss, he doesn’t have the energy to fight overly zealous and well-meaning Peter Parker. That’s why he agrees to an online dating profile, starts chatting with a user that goes by out_of_time, and figures out how to balance a social life with his very serious work of fighting zombies and saving the world. He also gets a surprise or two along the way.
Re-Reads
Things SHIELD Never Told Captain America: 2.8k words
The thing is, Tony quickly realised, there are certain things that SHIELD never told Captain America. Sometimes small things, sometimes big things. But things, nonetheless, that they thought he wasn't quite ready to know.
When Steve finds out about one of those things during an interview - his reaction isn't anything like anyone was expecting (except maybe Natasha, because she's scary like that).
OR, how the world found out about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes.
dust to dust (don’t cry for us): 1.8k words
Wolves are smaller now than they used to be.
he’ll rip your lungs out, bucky: 2.6k words
They end up at some weird sort of stalemate, staring at each other. The dog tucks his tail under himself, whining quietly and looking pleadingly up at Bucky. And Bucky decides, what the hell, it isn't like he isn't a formerly brainwashed assassin anyway. His life is already pretty weird.
He says, “Steve?”
The dog yips.
Through The Woods: 64k words
There’s a legend in Mansewood, nearly as old as the town itself, about a pack of werewolves that once lived in the forest. They say only one survives; a monstrous and snarling beast with fur like a blizzard and fangs the size of daggers. They say it guards the lands and all creatures in it, and no hunter has faced it and lived to tell the tale.
Steve doesn’t care about any of that. He only wants to know if it prefers T-Bone or ribeye, and would it please stop tracking dirt through his house? He just mopped the floor.
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These are requests I received at the end of 2020! Hopefully you can find enjoyment in them. There will be 20 in total posted every Monday. And just in advance — thanks for reading!
↳ Three Peas in a Pod || Fluff || Namjoon || Single Dad!AU
Namjoon wants to have The Talk™, but you're afraid he's just trying to compensate you.
↳ Suspended, Seduced, Surprised! || Fluff || Jungkook || E2L
Why the fuck did you have to be stuck on the ski lift with Jeon Jungkook, aka. cocky asshole extraordinaire.
↳ Lotus Blooms in Mud || Angst || Jimin || Historical!AU
The Crown Prince is your betrothed and you will protect what is yours even if his eyes wander.
↳ Buttering Up || Fluff || Yoongi || Chef!AU
You're the hardest person to satisfy, but Yoongi doesn't bat a single lash when he rises to the challenge.
↳ The Office Trip to Pound Town || Smut, Fluff || Taehyung
Taehyung stops by your office for lunch but something else is on his menu...or rather someone...
↳ Snow White and the Park Ranger || Fluff || Seokjin
The evil queen sends a huntsman after you to rip out your heart and as you run, you bump into Park Ranger, Kim Seokjin.
↳ Humdrum Amore || Fluff || Hoseok
With the high school reunion around the corner, you have to do everything in your power not to lose face — even if it means pretending to date Hoseok.
↳ Awaken Again || Angst, Fluff || Namjoon || Sci-Fi!AU
You die and wake up to the afterlife to see your late husband, Namjoon, only to be told that everything's been fake.
↳ The Soulmate Gift || Angst, Fluff || Yoongi || Soulmate!AU
You wake up one day to discover your hair changes colour based on your soulmate's emotions.
↳ Floof’s Tail || Fluff || Jimin || Hybrid!AU
The last thing you anticipate when you're adopted is another dog in the house who is less than welcoming.
↳ Crocodile Tears || Fluff || Hoseok || Pirate!AU
Jung Hoseok has seen it all, so little intrigues him....except when it comes to a certain captive on his ship.
↳ Auto Date Claim || Fluff || Seokjin
Seokjin needs someone — anyone — and in the nick of time, a certain girl hits his expensive car.
↳ The Unintended | Fluff, Angst || Namjoon || Zombie Apocalypse!AU
You're lucky to have your husband by your side when the entire world goes to shit.
↳ The Best Friend’s Older Brother Cliché | Fluff || Taehyung || Best Friend’s Older Brother!AU
Just because you went on one, two, maybe three dates with Taehyung doesn’t mean you’re dating!
↳ Spare and Surrender | Fluff || Jungkook || Gladiator!AU
Jungkook is an infamous gladiator who's captured the hearts of thousands but his bubble bursts when he discovers the new rising star is a woman.
↳ Honeymoon Horrors | Fluff, Angst || Yoongi || Divorce!AU
It was supposed to be the honeymoon that you never got to have — the only problem is: Yoongi's your soon-to-be ex-husband.
↳ The Fox Bride | Fluff || Taehyung || Isekai!AU, Slight Yandere!AU, Nine-Tailed Fox!Taehyung
You were only supposed to be a tutorial character, but there's little escape when you fall into the hands of the nine-tailed fox who's both sadistic and obsessive.
↳ Black Cat Flu | Fluff || Jimin || Magic!AU, Frenemies!AU
As a house call witch doctor, you never expect to be treating Park Jimin, your friend and enemy.
↳ Playground Promises | Fluff || Seokjin
You never thought you’d end up married to the third-grade teacher, Mr. Kim, down the hall and you still don’t know why he agreed.
#bts fanfic#bts scenario#bts reader insert#bts fluff#bts angst#jungkook fluff#taehyung fluff#jimin fluff#namjoon fluff#hoseok fluff#yoongi fluff#seokjin fluff#jungkook angst#taehyung angst#jimin angs#namjoon angs#hoseok angst#yoongi angst#seokjin angst#jfc this is a lot of tags and I don't even know if they work#anyway hope y'all can enjoy these drabbles#there will be 20 in total and posted every Monday!!!#Jimlings
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honesty and promise me, part 5 [co-written with @darkmagyk] [read on ao3]
Annabeth is making her periodic pilgrimage to the gynecologist when she gets Leo's call. It's very fitting--two uncomfortable and invasive things for the price of one. She answers her phone, ignoring the doctor's chastising frown. Surely she can place her new IUD while Annabeth deals with whatever Leo wants.
"What are you doing on the 18th?" he asks, about the only type of hello she ever gets from Leo.
The two of them never really grew out of pretending not to like each other, after they had gotten over their initial dislike. When he and Piper first got to Miss Minerva's, more or less straight out of juvie after Piper's dad made a lot of calls and called in a lot of favors, she and Leo had really hated each other. They used to fight over everything, from Piper's attention to the position of captain of the Mathletes team. And also, over Leo hating a rich white girl on principle, which, in retrospect, is totally fair. But then, by a weird twist of fate, they wound up in Boston together.
If Annabeth had to choose between hanging out with her creepy, Norse mythology-obsessed uncle and hanging out with Leo, she'd pick Leo every time. They had gone through a lot together, things both big and small.
"Of August?" she asks.
"Please be still, Ms. Chase," says her doctor. Annabeth rolls her eyes.
"Duh."
Wracking her thoughts she can't think of any prior commitments she might have had. Maybe there's a concert that day, but if she can't remember, it probably wasn't that important anyway. "Not much."
"Good, because we have plans."
She frowns. "Piper didn't mention any--"
"No, you and I have plans. I'll see you in Philly, yeah?"
Philadelphia? Ew. "Why Philly?"
"Our Smarter House thing won an award."
"No shit?"
"Eta Industries Award. The gala is on the 18th. You're my plus one."
She sucks in air through her teeth, readjusting her hips as unobtrusively as possible. Eta Industries was… a very big deal. "Isn't that, like, an engineering specific award? Maybe you should accept it by yourself." She'd be better off staying out of the limelight for this one, she thinks, even as some part of her longs once again for recognition.
Something electric whirs in the background, tinny and buzzing. "I'll see you on the 18th, then," says Leo, not having heard a word she said. "Also, you've been summoned to the castle."
"Leo--" she jumps as the gyno touches something she really shouldn't have.
"No arguments, she's expecting you today at two. Adios!" He clicks off.
"Okay, Ms. Chase," says the doctor, a little too chipper for Annabeth's taste. "You should be all set."
Annabeth leaves the doctor's office with her brand new IUD, a handful of medical literature which immediately gets tossed in the trash, and a sinking feeling in her gut as she gets on a train to Brooklyn, headed to Piper's place for another annoying and unnecessary fashion show. It's not that she doesn't enjoy being Piper's model--it's a position she's held since their time at Miss Minerva's, and it's never really a hardship to be told how gorgeous she is--but Piper has a way of just... getting information out of her that she doesn’t always want to share.
Stopping off early, Annabeth gives herself a moment to walk down the Brooklyn Heights Promenade, to settle her nerves and indulge herself a bit. That skyline gets her every time.
Turning down Pierrepont Street, she is once again struck by just how quiet the city can be. Manhattan is loud, rude, in-your-face, almost an entirely different world from the stately, deafeningly silent Brooklyn. For Annabeth, who is incapable of falling asleep without city horns blaring, it wigs her out a little.
She barely has time to ring the doorbell on Piper's dad's place before the girl herself wrenches it open, grabbing Annabeth's hand and yanking her inside. "You're late!" she trills, suffering what Annabeth can only assume is the onset of a caffeine overdose.
"I thought I had until two."
"That was before I had the best idea."
The brownstone is a mess, as per usual, reams of fabric tossed over every available surface, enough dressforms strewn about to make it look like Piper is hosting a party exclusively populated by headless zombies, adorned with a warehouse's worth of half-finished dresses and jackets. Based on the loud fabrics and structured angles, it looks like Piper is in the middle of a Klimt-ian phase of inspiration. Annabeth eyes a bright gold gown with a huge, extended collar, embroidered with silver eyes, the raw edges trailing the floor. "Please tell me this isn't your idea."
"First of all," Piper releases her arm as they enter her kitchen-turned-photo studio, gingerly stepping over a box of assorted beads, "even though it would look amazing on you, that dress is for an actual paying client. Second of all--" she snatches up a dressform from its position behind the camera, setting it down in front of her with a flourish. "This is my idea."
Annabeth was right--Piper is definitely on a Klimt-ian kick.
Pulled straight from her art history classes, the dress looks like a two dimensional painting come to life, a stunning skirt like a column of liquid silver descending onto the black mat, pleats like fluted columns precisely draped over the dressform's hips… and not much else. Annabeth points. “Is that it?”
Piper makes a face. "I have a bodice, promise. Now go take that shit off."
Annabeth looks down at her repurposed The Police shirt, fished out of a thrift store bin some months ago, shirt collar cut and sides resewn to bring the waistline in. "I like this shirt."
"Oh, I like the shirt plenty," she agrees. "But you could stand to wear a nicer pair of jeans."
She does have a point there--her jeans are clinging to life at this point, the knees and hems all but obliterated, strings of fabric valiantly attempting to hold their original shape. "Fine. Be right back."
When she emerges from the bathroom a minute later in just her bra and panties, Piper has laid out another bolt of fabric in that same color, silver with a blue shift beneath the studio lights. Piper, bent over with a strip of measuring tape, looks up at her, then squints. "So who is he?"
Annabeth starts. "Excuse me?"
"The guy you've been seeing."
How... the fuck does Piper always know these things? "I don't know what you're talking about."
She flicks her eyes down to Annabeth's thigh, Annabeth following her gaze to the remnants of the bruise that Percy had left there with his mouth two days ago. Dammit.
Piper tsks, a smile distorting the sound. "Naughty, naughty, Annabeth."
"How do you know it wasn't from a girl?" she asks, petulant.
"Because if it had been a girl, you wouldn't be nearly so defensive."
Shit. "We've been friends way too long," Annabeth grumbles.
"That we have," says Piper. "And out of respect for our friendship, I will refrain from grilling you about him until you are more comfortable sharing."
"So, for a few hours?"
She shrugs. "More or less."
"I suppose you want me to thank you for holding back."
"Don't thank me yet," she grins, wide and toothy. "I've been cooped up here working on my collection for three days, and I am dying to talk to someone."
Annabeth sighs, but obediently raises her arms, making room as Piper crouches down to pin the skirt on her. "Okay, you got me. I'm seeing this guy."
"Seeing or seeing-seeing?"
"Just seeing," she clarifies. "It's pretty casual."
"Can't be that casual if you're telling me about it," Piper points out.
Fuck. This is why she never tells Piper about her hookups. "You're the one who asked."
"Another business bro, I assume?"
"He's--" Piper swats at her as she automatically sucks her stomach in, their long held code for "stay put." "He's a dancer."
She hums, arranging pleats over Annabeth's knees. "Like on Broadway?"
"Ballet."
Piper glances up at her, eyes sparkling. “Un danseur! Ooh la la,” she trills. “What’s his name?”
“I can just leave,” Annabeth says, distinctly not thinking about how Percy will occasionally slip into French whenever he stubs his toe.
“Okay, okay, no more boy talk.” Piper moves in front of her, adjusting the fabric about her waist. “Tell me about the thing you just won with Leo.”
“I had honestly forgotten about it,” she says, lying a little, pulling her arms forward. “You remember his master’s thesis?”
“The shmart kishen thing, right?” Piper asks around the tape measure in her mouth.
Leo, the prodigal boy that he is, had spent his last year of school dedicated to a singular problem faced by people around the world: the sudden, out of control kitchen fire. Using very complicated electronics and engineering that Annabeth does not understand, he devised a handful of mechanisms to sense, contain, and ultimately douse random fires as soon as they popped up. Annabeth came on as his design partner after he had graduated and had gotten some funding to conceptualize an entire safe house.
“Well, it just won an Eta Industries award.”
Her head snaps up, hands freezing in their tracks. “Holy shit.”
“Yeah.”
“Congrats.”
“Thanks,” she shrugs as Piper gets up to grab some more fabric. “I mean, it was mostly Leo’s doing. I just made sure he didn’t leave any stray pipes around.”
Holding out her arms again, Piper slides them through the sleeves of a heavy, corset-like piece, structured and straight and very forgiving on Annabeth’s lack of curves. “You shouldn’t sell yourself short,” she says. “I’m sure your skills as a guinea pig were very valuable.”
“Are you ever going to let that go?” Annabeth asks, she who has literally burnt pasta while it was submerged in water.
“You’re just lucky my dad was out of town that weekend. Have you decided what you’re going to wear to the awards ceremony?”
She shoots her friend a strange look. “I thought I was wearing this?” she gestures to the unfinished silver gown currently making her feel like an absolute goddess.
Piper makes a face. “What do I look like, the fucking Flash? This isn’t going to be ready for another thirty hours, at least. I’ve got decals to add, Swarovskis to bead, not to mention all the hand-stitching on the neckline because for whatever reason my machine has decided to hate me this week.”
“Okay, well,” says Annabeth, appropriately cowed, “then I guess I’ll wear the black one you gave me.”
“2019 fall/winter?”
Annabeth nods.
“Styling?”
“Luke gave me this really nice scarf for my birthday.”
Throwing her head back, she groans.
“What? What’s wrong?”
“You’re so boring,” she moans, pulling Annabeth’s hair out of the way. “Let me guess, you’re going to pair it with the black shrug and opaque nude tights.”
“Well… yeah, I was.”
“Exactly! Boring.” Coming back around, she pushes Annabeth lightly into the light, before taking her place behind the camera. “You could do so much with that dress and you choose to make it boring. Why not some fishnets? Or a big statement necklace?”
Annabeth waits after a few shutter clicks to answer. “Because I doubt that the people at Eta Industries are going to be big fans of my tattoos.”
“That is a bald-faced lie and you know it,” Piper says. “Your tattoos and piercings are gorgeous and you would look absolutely rocking with them. Knock all the old farts right off their feet. Turn.”
Obediently, Annabeth rotates, letting Piper snap off as many pictures as she likes. “This isn’t a Vogue event, Pipes,” she says, rolling her eyes where her friend can’t see them. “Punk isn’t exactly accepted practice yet.”
“Punk was the Met Gala theme almost a decade ago, babe. It has filtered down from Vogue. It's practically cerulean now. Side.”
Annabeth turns again, keeping her eyes straight. Side-eye would ruin the shot, no matter how much she wants to give it.
“I will never understand why you both refuse to wear halfway decent jeans and then refuse to go guns out in my dresses that demand it. I can almost guarantee you that Leo will show up in those stupid suspenders with grease on his face. And you’ll have to get him to leave his tool belt in the car.”
“Then it’s probably for the best that I have a modicum of professionalism, huh?”
Piper leans out from behind the camera, glaring. “At the very least,” she hedges, “will you let me set you up with some shoes?”
“I don’t know…”
“You are not allowed to wear those horrid Manolo pumps you wear everywhere. And your nude Louboutins won’t look right with the black.”
“What did you have in mind?”
Piper’s grin is evil, and the way she scampers out of the room means she’s got something she’d been trying to force on Annabeth for a long time.
Five minutes later, Annabeth is presented with a set of black strappy sandals, its edges detailed in a gold zipper, with safety pin pull to match. She frowns. “Are you sure? They look kind of… hardcore for something like this.”
“They’re Versace,” Piper says. “I was not lying about punk’s democratization.”
Well. They are pretty cool.
“It’s either this or the McQueen boots. They have studs.”
Annabeth sighs, holding out her hand. Piper squeals, bouncing a little, wrapping her in a brief, but exuberant hug, kissing her cheek with a loud, wet, smack. “You’re the best!”
“I haven’t even done anything.”
“I am saving up favors to cash in. Now,” she releases Annabeth, retreating behind the camera. “If you’ve got some time, can I borrow your head? I’m working on a helmet and all my mannequins are busy.”
***
“Hey,” Percy begins. It is so late at night, the dawn is on the edge of breaking, and they are both exhausted from some particularly good sex. Which is saying something, because all their sex is particularly good. “You doing anything on the 18th?”
“Yeah,” She says, distractedly, snuggling down into his bed. The fact that she’s also snuggling into him is just a coincidence.
“Oh.”
“Why?”
“Nothing. Was going to invite you to a thing if you weren’t.” She nods her head against his shoulder and falls asleep in his arms, thinking absolutely nothing about it.
She continues to think nothing of it on the train to Philadelphia on the 18th, half-asleep and listening to Paramore to pass the time, blasting Misery Business on repeat as she changes in her hotel room.
The Eta Industries event is pretty much exactly what she expected: a lot of old rich white people milling about, sipping champagne and verbally circle jerking each other, the insipid strains of classical music spilling out of the ballroom as Annabeth steps up to claim her name tag. “Name?” asks the young, college-aged girl, skimming her printed guest list over the rim of her glasses.
“Annabeth Chase.”
She runs a long fingernail over the assorted collection of name tags, before settling on the correct one, handing it to Annabeth, her star tattoo on the inside of her wrist free and open to anyone who would care to look. “Here you are, Ms. Chase,” she says, smiling. “Have a wonderful night!”
Automatically, Annabeth goes to pin it on Luke’s scarf, before she remembers that something is already occupying that place--Percy’s Acropolis pin. She had taken to keeping it in her pocket these days, something of a good luck charm, and thought that it might… she doesn’t know, maybe send a subconscious signal to Percy that she’s thinking of him. Even though there is, quite literally, no way he could know, she hopes that maybe he can sense it, and that maybe he’s thinking about her, too.
Ugh. She snatches up a flute of champagne from a wandering waiter, eager to get that thought out of her head, making a beeline straight for the refreshments table. It’s there that Leo finds her, not five minutes later, munching on some chocolate covered strawberries.
“And here I thought you might ditch me entirely,” he says, even as he bumps her shoulder. True to form, he is absolutely, 100% dressed in those stupid suspenders, a smudge of grease behind his ear.
“You’ve got a…” Annabeth trails off, motioning behind her own ear.
“Huh? Oh!” He snatches up a napkin, rubbing discreetly. “Thanks.”
She squints. Something about him is distinctly different. “Are you taller?”
Kicking out a foot, he wiggles it, triumphant. “Platform shoes.”
“Seriously?”
“Hey, if they're good enough for Robert Downey Jr., then they’re good enough for me. After all, I am Ir--”
She groans, good-natured, taking another gulp of champagne. “If you quote Marvel in your speech, I’m leaving.”
“Fine by me, Your Highness, they’ll give me the award either way.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Valdez?” The same college girl from before sidles up to them, clipboard clutched in her hand. “They’re about to start.”
He claps his hands, rubbing them together. “Excellent. You coming?”
“I…” She casts her gaze to the makeshift stage they’ve constructed, eyeing the bright “Eta Industries” placard, the sharp angles shiny and alluring, the siren-song of recognition.
This is a big deal. There are photographers in the audience. In the write-ups and reviews, she would be listed as a co-winner of the award, a co-designer of the world’s safest house, a thought so happy she practically starts flying.
“I think I should stay out of the limelight for this one, Leo,” she says, politely. “This is your moment. I don’t want to ruin it.”
He frowns. “You sure?”
Were it not for the fact that people were watching, Annabeth would have leapt up onto that stage without a second thought, snatching up the trophy like she had just won the Oscar, holding it up like the goddamn Olympic torch. “What, you want a white woman stealing your glory?” she says instead, arching a brow.
“You get a pass this one time,” he quips, holding out his hand. “Don’t make me regret it.”
Whatever social grace she has left crumbles. She’s denied it enough--she wants to be up there. “Oh, fine. Since you insist,” she says, following clipboard-girl to the stage.
There’s a quick burst of feedback, then an elderly gentleman at the podium begins speaking into the mic. “Excuse me--sorry about that. Yes, yes, thank you all for coming tonight to the annual Eta Industries awards presentation ceremony. It is always such a pleasure to come together with our hard-working and generous board members and shareholders to honor the best and brightest upcoming talent in engineering.”
Internally, she rolls her eyes. Rich people.
“It is my pleasure, however, to introduce the young man who is the recipient of this year’s Millennium Prize for innovation and safety. One of MIT’s youngest and most decorated graduates, he was a recipient of the Mead Prize for Students, the Friedman Young Engineer Award, and the Collingwood Prize, among several others. His master’s thesis, ‘Towards the Design and Implementation of Autonomous Safety Measures in Commercial Kitchens,’ formed the basis of the project which we recognize tonight, the so-called ‘SmartSafe House,’ reflects the pioneering spirit and outstanding creative vision of not only Eta Industries, but also the field of engineering as a whole. Please join me in congratulating this year’s Millennium Prize recipient, Leo Valdez.”
From the sidelines, she claps enthusiastically with the rest of the crowd as her friend takes the stage, shakes hands with the Vice President of Eta Industries, and accepts the award, a blue, blocky triangle which almost seems to glow in the light of the ballroom. “Thank you, Mr. Helms. This is--this is a really big honor.”
She can see him shaking a bit, taking a quick drink from his water glass. Public speaking was never really his strong suit.
“As--as a lot of you probably know, this project is very near and dear to my heart. Growing up in Houston with my mother, a car mechanic, I was eight years old when her beloved shop went up in flames, like that.” He snaps his fingers, his other hand pressed to the podium where no one can see, joints white with pressure. Annabeth is proud of him--he hasn’t been able to speak this candidly about it in years. She knows firsthand how much his mother’s near-death haunts him still. “Thankfully, we were able to rebuild, and my mother went on to bigger and better things--including a shop with cleaner vents. But I can definitely pinpoint that moment as the day I knew I wanted to make the world a safer place, for my mom, if not for everyone else.”
She remembers, so clearly, that snowy night in the dorms at Miss Minerva’s. The power had gone out, and Leo had made them an illicit campfire out of their trash bin and Annabeth’s failed English exam. Cold and miserable and with dying phones, they passed the time instead telling scary stories and funny memories, until the conversation had gotten suddenly, intensely real.
“But I would be remiss,” he goes on, cheerful, “if I didn’t acknowledge my friend and collaborator, without whose work I wouldn’t be here today: Annabeth Chase,” he waves to his side, indicating her. The whole crowd, as one, turns their gazes on her. She straightens up, imperceptibly, hoping she doesn’t look too haughty or anything. “I’ve never been very good with people. My mama says I’m just like my dad that way. Give me a car, or a computer, or pages of multiplication tables, and I’m golden. But people?” He blows out a breath, and the crowd chuckles, naturally. “Now, if it had been left up to me, the SmartSafe House would have been a top of the line, cutting-edge metal box, efficient to a fault, but completely unlivable. Thank God I had Annabeth on my team to remind me what the project was really about: a home that families could feel safe in, so that what happened to me and my mom might never happen to anyone else.” He hoists his award above his head, leaning into the mic. “Ma, este es para ti. Thank you all.”
Stepping down from the stage, they reenter the crowd, ready to receive adoration. In another life, she might have been embarrassed by such praise. Here and now, however, she takes each handshake and word of congratulations like a starving man in a desert who just came across an oasis, hungry and greedy.
Hey, it’s her night, too.
After what feels like a whole-ass sixty minutes of shaking old people's hands and polite nodding, though, she is in desperate need of a break. Escaping the throng of mingling bodies, she darts into a dark corner of the ballroom, leaning against the back of a rounded stone column, just barely out of sight of the party.
Rubbing her hands over her face, she sighs, just short of a scream. Blowing out all her air, she lets the faint music and fake laughs melt into each other, becoming white noise, a blank canvas, empty of concrete thoughts and feelings.
Then, her ear picks up a strand of conversation.
“...announcing tomorrow that the CEO of Pallas Inc. is choosing a successor,” a woman says, the sneer in her voice almost visible. “About time.”
“I thought she already picked a successor,” says the woman’s conversation partner, a man with the kind of cookie-cutter cadence that she heard every time she took a business major to bed. “Pallas is a family business, isn’t it?”
“You haven’t heard?” Annabeth can almost picture it, the furtive glance around the room, the woman placing her hand on her partner’s arm, leaning in to share a juicy secret. “Supposedly she was grooming her daughter for the role, before she went in for rehab.”
“Rehab? Really?”
“What else could it be?” says the woman. “She’s disappeared off the face of the earth, and her mother refuses to talk about her. Let’s be honest, if she were dead, she would have raised a bigger stink about it.”
Annabeth closes her eyes, sucking air in through her teeth. That… wasn’t totally untrue.
But the woman doesn’t stop. “It’s always the same story,” she scoffs. “You throw countless hours of schooling and millions of dollars into girls like her, and what do they do? Turn around and blow it all on drugs and partying. Honestly, she should be grateful her mother is even bothering with her rehab at all. Hasn’t she wasted enough of the family’s money already?”
Blood roars in her ears, drowning out the fancy party. Sharp points dig into her palm, pinpricks of pain, before she realizes that they’re her own fingernails.
The lady has got it all wrong. Her mom couldn’t even be bothered with that.
Luke’s scarf, the shrug, it’s choking her, suffocating and constricting. Percy’s pin feels heavy on her chest.
Blinders on, she would have sprinted for the exit were it not for the Piper’s stupid Versace heels, reduced instead to a teetering, tottering wreck, like a baby colt running from a predator. The night is hot and humid, heavy with the threat of rain, and Annabeth can barely breathe, dark spots in her eyes, until she ducks into a nearby Target, the frigid blast of air a welcome distraction.
Almost in a daze, she watches herself pick up a few things--clippers, an electric razor, beef jerky, a blue Gatorade she considers for a moment before putting it back, choosing a lemonade instead--practically throwing them at the poor cashier who begins checking her out, mechanically. He doesn’t spare her a single glance for her odd assortment of items. He doesn’t even look at her at all.
The walk to her hotel room disappears in the blink of an eye. Blink--she breezes past the check-in counter, slipping into the empty elevator. Blink--she kicks off her heels in her room, nearly hitting the wall mirror, leaving a scuff mark on the white plaster. Blink--she’s down to her underwear and tights in the bathroom, shaving the right side of her curls clean off. She’d gotten them professionally done for the night, perfect spirals held together by expensive products. And now she wants them gone.
She pauses and breathes too hard, looking at herself in the mirror. Her mother didn’t like that she was blonde. Maybe because of dumb blonde stereotypes, maybe just because it reminded Athena too much of her failed romance with Annabeth’s dad. And that thought stays her hand from getting rid of the rest of them.
That, and maybe the idea of Percy, of some broke dancer, tangling his fingers in it as they lie together.
Fuck her mother, and the fucking stories she tells.
She likes it. She likes her blonde hair and her fresh undercut.
She can get Thalia to touch this up later, maybe. Now, though, she needs this.
It doesn’t look perfect. The left side of hair is too long, her gold laurel earrings too fancy for a homegrown haircut like this, her makeup too pristine. Shoving her hand under the running water, she rubs at her eyes, mascara and eyeliner smearing until they’ve reached something much more respectable for the failure that she really is.
She misses her industrial. And her eyebrow rings. And the tongue piercing. But this will have to do for now.
Breathing heavily, eyes hot, she doesn’t register her phone blinking, signaling an unread text message.
It’s from Thalia. surprised you weren’t at kelp heads bday party, it reads. was pretty boring. Kno he missed you
#backstory backstory backstoryyyyyyy#my fic#percabeth#pjo#the rivalry ends here#darkmagyk#perseannabeth#ballet au
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Could you tell more about your players? The little you said sounds very neat and intriguing tbh :)
there’s four of them, and they got hired to help with keeping this dude in a holding cell long enough to make him go to his court date like The Next Day because the town guard honestly just gave up and kinda love him now. but oops he already escaped before they quite made it and they track him down but he sweeps them up in a whirlwind adventure through mysterious lands they don’t know or understand in a world where the planet has been charted already. then they learn more and end up instead hired to help save the world and protect the material plane, all while learning how shit got so fucked
there’s erryn, the angstman ranger, who ended up getting the prophecy title of The Lover. over the course of the campaign, starting with a wolf they name peaches that they find half-dead in a mostly-abandoned owlbear nest (having killed the owlbear), he has the strangest ability to communicate with creatures and spirits and things he shouldn’t. during one quest, wandering off from the group, he stumbles into one of the minor pantheon, and ends up being sucked into that little world, being cornered over and over by these little gods as they give him information, provide him comfort, scare him, swindle him, and overall take interest at a level that he finds strange. until, of course, the moment one beloved NPC (his character’s boyfriend, actually) sacrifices quite an absurd amount to bring him back from what’s basically the dead, and he learns that he’s the lover not because he’s loved (even if he is), but because he has so much love and kindness in his heart, and in this world, love is rewarded.
there’s leviloth, the brains artificer. later given the title The Princess. she was a leading force in figuring out more about the planar system until she found out (very early in the story!) that she’d been basically kidnapped from her home and her life where she was meant to be the princess of Hell by some absolute dickhead warlocks pretending to be sorcerers. over the course of the story she essentially learns about what a wonderful life she’s set up to have and forms bonds with a lot of characters, meaning she gets easily the most stressed out as the world keeps hurtling towards an abrupt end. she gets a lot of arcs about responsibility, about accountability, and also got kidnapped by the cowboy one that one time it keeps happening she keeps getting kidnapped also her dad got fridged then unfridged in a later sidequest it ruled
there’s darren, the himbo zombie. called The Second Chance. his entire continent (now called the Outergraves, home of the undead because nothing can survive there) was wiped out in a great catastrophe which nobody knew the origin of, how or why it happened, just that it happened. rapidly, things stop adding up. he seems to think it’s supposed to be twenty years ago, his calendar out of sync with everyone else. he can’t seem to remember… much of anything about his family, about his home, about himself. less and less, even. and more than that, an undead needs a necromancer, that’s the rule, isn’t it? the magic can’t come from nowhere. and most of all, the greatest mystery, what’s up with this ring that keeps giving him advice when things go completely to shit? (it’s the campaign antagonist. who is his necromancer. and who kind of has a crush on him because who wouldn’t darren rules)
and finally there’s solaris, the problem child, chaotic neutral, the monk. and The Seer. frankly, they didn’t even sign up for this. they’re just a cheetah tabaxi who kind of got scooped up by virk on account of being better than average at swindling. but they were also the only one in their party who knew how to fight, so jo’en took it upon himself to start training them personally when it became increasingly clear that their missions were extremely dangerous. during the process, solaris makes a point to pry, at points breaking into jo’en’s home, poking around other people’s things, and translating pages of text for the sake of information, and getting away with it. and the more they learn, the more they’re faced with the fact that there aren’t ulterior motives. jo’en genuinely trusts them with his life. virk genuinely wants the world to be a better place. and eventually they trust jo’en, just enough that he can deliver a final blow that seals their character arc—that he trusts them too, more than anyone he’s ever met, and he’s passing on his entire legacy to them, promoting them to a Captain and moving into retirement.
also leviloth and darren raised a baby owlbear together and started dating in that order. also erryn got essentially a curse on a mission and met a druid doctor NPC guy and they started dating too. also jo’en and solaris are QPPs. also solaris started dating another plane-saver like virk. virk’s sister actually. she’s my girlfriend’s favorite character of all time i think maybe which is fair she rules
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I would very much like to hear about your spooky scary Sirens, pretty please 🥺
AJKSJAKISJAJAJF Ok so I almost had a heart attack when I saw you were following me because YOU’RE SO COOL so thank you
I already wrote about my spooky scary sirens over here, and they have pictures and I would be willing to write a short thing with them later but for right now I’m gonna pick a different thing and blab about it.
The most fleshed out and cohesive thing I have is the vampire band nerd slasheresque story with a police chase followup as well as a separate zombie apocalypse thing, so ig I’ll go with that. More under cut and warning for like a lot of gore and death and angst. I’m also only doing the first part of that because this is taking a long ass time
I came up with this in junior high, and I was in band, and I noticed that each instrument section had different personalities sort of, so I made characters around that and put them in a horror plot where they all die horribly, because what else are you gonna do? This is gonna be a plot rundown and it might get real long. (It is no longer a rundown. Its just unedited word vomit.)
anyways a bunch of friends, who I’m just gonna call by their instrument names, go camping in the woods for a couple weeks. They all take one car and set up in the middle of fuckin nowhere.
Clarinets a vampire pretending to be a high schooler for kicks, because she was 15 when she turned 5 years ago and got dragged away to the magic underworld (basically a series of safehouses and towns for the supernatural) and she wants a letterman goddamnit.
She gets adopted into a friendgroup despite her best efforts, and gets dragged along on the camping trip in the small car and close quarters with a buddy system and she hasn’t eaten anything substantial in like two months and its proving to be a problem when she starts thinking of her friends as snacks instead of people.
one night, percussionist gets up to go on a 3 am lake walk. But, the buddy system. So he takes Clarinet, who never seems to sleep anyways, with him.
They’re on the edge of a lake littered with huge old chunks of driftwood, looking out over the water, when Percussionist steps on something sharp. It went straight through his sandal and he pulls it out without much trouble, but “that nail looks kind of rusty and I’m Pretty Sure I’m bleeding a little bit, oh I hope I don’t need a shot-“
she falls on him like a cat on a wounded songbird. She has enough of her mind left to cover his mouth and stop the screams as he slowly loses blood.
He tries to fight back. He does. he jams the nail deep into her throat and twists away, but she catches his wrist and slams him backward, a sharp stick going through his stomach, sticking him bloody at the base of an old driftwood branch still attached to its old tree.
She stops draining just before he dies. And she waits, and waits, and waits. Finally, hours later, the corpse takes a deep gasp and its eyes fly open. It begins the excruciating process of pulling itself off the tree.
his wound is closed less than a minute later.
he comes to and sees her sobbing on the ground, bloody streaks under her eyes from where she tried to wipe away her tears with hands soaked from putting pressure on his stomach in a feeble attempt to save him.
“Vampires, huh?” He says, half joking, half looking for an explanation.
—-—
they’re sitting around a small campfire, and Clarinet tells him that he’s a vampire, he needs blood, he cant go back to camp or he will eat his friends. She leaves to find him something substantial before he loses it.
back at the original camp, its around sunrise. Flute notices a small trail of smoke not far off, realizes that Percussionist is missing, and gets French Horn to help him look for their idiot friend (and maybe put out a small fire.)
They make it about 3/4th of the way to the smoke when flute trips on a tree root and scrapes his knee. About a mile away, Percussionists head perks up.
He distantly realizes that he just left the campfire that he’s supposed to stay at, but he can‘t seem to care. The hunger doesn’t gnaw at him or hollow him out. Its not like looking for a fix either. Its an itch in his whole body, a near unavoidable function of his being. The hunt is as natural as a cough, a spasm of muscles to take away the awful itch.
He moves faster than he ever could before, and just to see if he can, he jumps up and begins running across the branches of trees. Its slower, but sneakier; his prey won’t see him coming.
Finally, he reaches them. He jumps on the smaller one, sending it crashing to the ground. It’s blood is what brought him here. He sinks his hollow teeth into its neck and begins feeding.
There is a scream and a crash as the taller one runs away. Thats ok. He only needs one.
———
French horn, for her part, is freaking the fuck out. The sun had just peaked over the horizon and orange light was streaming through the trees when everything went to shit.
The pale thing had fallen on Flute, and the noise he made… she was almost certain he was dead now.
She kept running. If she could make it back to camp, then maybe she could get help, or maybe leave before the rest of them died too.
She charges through a thicket, sharp thorns scraping and tearing every inch of her as she shoves her way through. She shuts her eyes as she goes, to avoid the thorns poking them out.
When she comes out the other side, she feels her gut sink.
She doesn’t recognize the trees or bushes around her. She doesn’t see a path.
She’s lost.
She wants to break down, to scream and cry the injustice to the heavens, to kick and punch and fight the thing that killed her friend, to sit down and rest and have a moment to breathe, to be home-
She picks a direction and runs.
———
Percussionist stops draining Flute just before he‘s dead, following the instinct that drove him to where he is.
He wants to be horrified. He does, really. But he was so hungry, and the itch is still there, waiting beneath his skin to pounce on him again. But for now, its gone, and he can think clearly. He can move without the instinct tainting his every twitch.
He turns to look at the person he drained and sees-
He sees his friend. And it hits him all at once.
He killed a person, a person he knew, a person he cared for, and he had been powerless to stop it. He didn’t even know- he didn’t realize- he would never have done it if he-
but he knew he would have. Even if he knew. He would’ve killed Flute, and he hates himself for that.
So he sits by the body of his dead friend, maybe in solace, maybe because some instinctive tick tells him to. He doesn’t want to know. He refuses to.
When Flute sat up and gasped, Percussionist could‘ve sworn he had a heart attack (even without a functioning heart.)
To Flutes credit, he made it through Percussionists halting and confused explanation before letting himself ask about the smell.
”what smell?” Percussionist asked, and lifted his nose to the air.
He got his answer. The smell of blood, salty and sweet and with a coppery tinge to it drifted through the air, leaving a hunger and odd comfort sitting in his gut. It reminded him of smelling baking cookies from the kitchen as a kid.
A leaf crunched, and he snapped out of his trance. Flute had stood up and broken into a run, faster than any human could’ve gone. After the person that had been with him.
After his friend.
Percussionist sprinted after him.
——
He had the chance to notice how fast he was really going, now that he could think through the hunger. He practically flew through the forest, leaping over a fallen log half his size that blocked his way. He ducked and dodged branches that threatened to slash his face, and if he were running for something else he may have threw his head back and laughed.
As it was, he was following the occasional red flash of a windbreaker that he could barely keep up with without being hit by a tree.
He could heal now right? Did he really even need to be worried about being hit by trees?
He let one slap his face just to test, and he felt the stinging pain all across his face as a deep cut opened across his nose and eyes. He faltered as his vision went red with blood. A second later, it was gone, and he could see again. ….And he‘d lost flute. Great.
He sniffed the air, remembering how he’d been able to smell the blood, and tried to look for his friend.
He could smell the whole forest. Sap and pine and rotting leaves, rotten flesh and mushrooms and a skunk miles and miles off, the sweet sting of honey and dew and campfire smoke, and over it all, the most lovely smell-
Well, looks like he couldn’t find him that way. He thought for a moment, and groaned. He could just follow French Horn and get to her first!
He began running again.
———
Clarinet had just made it back to the campsite, a live deer kicking around over her shoulder. She would’ve killed it, but she couldn’t quite figure out how without losing any of its blood, and since she drained and seriously injured Percussionist he would need a lot of blood-
and the campfire had a suspicious lack of vampires around it. Great. She could only hope that no one had cut themselves-
She stopped as the scent of blood hit her nose. She cursed and took off running, dropping the deer as she did.
——
French Horn thought she was going to die when she heard a bush rustle and snap behind her. She had stopped for a rest, thinking she was safe (if very lost). She was braced for her death when Percussionist crashed through the bushes.
”Oh, good, you’re still alive. We need to go like right now.”
Before she could protest, he grabbed her wrist and began pulling her away. With his very cold, very pale hand.
”Wait. Was it you?” She said, planting her feet.
”Yes.” his voice was solemn, and his eyes downcast. “But unless you want Flute to get you, we need to go”
She tore her wrist out of his grasp.
“Flutes dead. Flute’s dead and you killed him!”
And Flute hit her from the side. He sank his teeth deep into her neck, but only for a moment. Then he pulled back, looking horrified and ran away.
French Horn stands up dazedly. “That was…”
”Yeah.”
she lifts a hand to her bleeding neck where the bite is still gushing blood.
A rustle of trees comes from the side, and Clarinet skids to a stop in front of them. She takes in the situation and drops to her knees, tearing loose a piece of her shirt and holding it to the holes in French Horn’s neck.
”Wheres the third?”
French horn points to the copse of trees he disappeared into.
”I think we might actually be jinxed.” A pause, then “That was supposed to be a joke. Go after him. He’s heading towards the camp, and chances are he won’t be able to stop himself a second time.”
Percussionist nods, and then stops. “How do I get there?”
”just run straight! GO!”
and he does.
———
Clarinet gently explains to French Horn that vampires are real, and that she is one. When asked why she isn’t bloodthirsty, Clarinet answers that she has a lot of blood left in her still, and that she’s not all the way changed, and that the change will, in her words, “Stink. Its kind of the worst thing you’ll have to go through, and it’ll take way longer since you have blood, and you may not notice at first.“
French Horn pursed her lips. “Theres no way to stop it?”
Clarinet shook her head.
”Okay. Okay, shouln’t we help Percussionist?”
Clarinet swore. “You won’t be much help in the state you’re in, but I can drop you off by the camp. Pack our things and be ready to go.”
Clarinet scooped French Horn up and took off into the woods.
———
Percussionist got there just as Tuba was ripping Flute off of his neck.
Despite Flute being the smallest out of all of them, and Tuba being the strongest, he was struggling to keep the scrabbling, biting Flute away.
So, Percussionist did the only logical thing and full body tackled Flute, trying to hold him down. It worked, sort of. Long enough for Tuba to start running. Long enough for Sax and Trombone to see what the ruckus was.
Flute burst out of Percussionists grip, grabbed Trombone and ran.
Sax sprinted after them, and percussionist was left in the dust, standing dumbstruck as they all dashed off. He snapped out of it when Trumpet pressed an axe to his shoulder and told him to not move.
———
Flute knows this: he is very hungry. He also knows that blood tastes very good.
His last two meals escaped. He thinks he let the first go, but he can’t seem to remember why. The second was ripped away from him by someone like him, which was rather rude.
But this one won’t get away. He is far to hungry to let that happen.
He feeds as he runs, draining the squirming thing dry, pinning its flailing limbs against his chest. It stops wailing eventually.
He slows as he becomes able to think clearly again. He holds the body in his arms and revels in the fact he is no longer hungry. Then, he looks at the thing he drained.
And it’s his friend. He feels his stomach drop, and a hollow pit grow in his chest. His friend is dead, and it’s his fault. He tells himself there’s nothing to do but run, so he does.
Really, though, he just doesn’t want to see what she’ll become.
———
“What did you do to them.” Said Trumpet, each word slow and dangerous. She lifted the axe off his shoulder, and he felt relief before he realized she was lining up to take off his head.
He may be able to heal, but he did not want to see how far that ability stretched. Not like this, at least.
He swallowed his fear and asked, ”What makes you think I did something?“
She barked out a harsh laugh. “You go missing in the middle of the night with Clarinet, who still isn’t back. Flute and French Horn go to look for you and have mysteriously disappeared. Tuba came running from this direction, bleeding like a stuck pig. And here I find you, in the center of it all.”
Ah. He was fucked. Time to implement the worst plan ever, considering how fast Trumpet was.
”that’s- that sure is some pretty overwhelming evidence that I did something. I swear I didn’t, though but I know you won’t believe me so I’m just gonna RUN!”
He ducked under the axe she swung at his head, and took off running into the trees. He glanced behind him to see her struggling to keep up, and grinned. He was actually getting away with his head, and beating Trumpet in a footrace for once-
He turned back around just in time to see the tree that crumpled his skull.
———
He wished he could say he didn’t feel every excruciating twitch of his skull righting itself as he laid there. As it was, it was painful enough he was functionally passed out.
Which is why he was surprised to see trumpet dragging him by his feet deep into the woods.
Not half as surprised as trumpet, who dropped his feet and swore when he sat up and gasped.
”What the hell? You were dead! that killed you!” She yelled.
Percussionist was still reeling from how much growing his skull back sucked, and latched on to the first thing he noticed.
”Did you steal my shoes?”
”what are you?” She asked in a tone that was decidedly horrified.
He fiddled with a piece of grass somewhere to his left. “A vampire, as of yesterday. Really though, why do you have my shoes?”
“Not important. What do you mean as of yesterday?”
”Last night, really. Me and Clarinet-“
”Clarinet and I.” She said.
”Whatever. We went on a walk and turns out she’s always been a vampire, and then she did the vampire thing, and now I’m a vampire, and things have just been spiraling from there-”
”That explains a lot, actually. Who else is a vampire?”
Percussionist, feeling slightly more alive, realized they weren’t by the camp anymore.
”Where are we? Why do you have my shoes, and why are you so calm about this?”
”oh.” She said. “I may have made an action plan for something like this. You know, in case of murderers, or if supernatural stuff was real.”
”thats cool. Why steal my shoes?“
”I was framing you for murder.”
an awkward silence settled over them.
”We should get back to camp. Stop more people from getting vampired and all.”
”Yeah. Lets do that.“
———
Sax skidded to a stop in front of Trombones body. She was limp, and pale, and by all accounts dead. He whipped out his phone to call anyone, anyone at all, and pitched it into a tree when it read no service.
He sat, and he cried by his best friend, who always made the shittiest puns, who was the worst at sports, who thought anything with soulmates was stupid but still read all the stuff he suggested her. Who was dead.
He was still crying when she sat up and latched onto his neck, draining him dry.
———
French Horn and Clarinet ran across Tuba, who was holding gauze to his neck where he had been bit. French Horn was starting to feel slightly feverish, but otherwise okay.
”Guys! Are you okay? The weirdest thing just happened.” He said.
”We need to leave.” Said Clarinet. “Now.”
”No argument here. Have you guys seen Flute? He was with you last time I saw him.“
French Horn and Clarinet shared a look.
“I’ll go find him. You two pack. we leave before dusk.”
They watched as she disappeared into the leaves.
”Whats going on?” Asked tuba, a hint of worry in his voice.
French Horn took a deep breath in before saying “Vampires are real.”
Tuba burst out laughing.
“Oh. You’re serious.” He said as he hefted a tent into the back of the van.
”you don’t believe me.”
“How could I? I haven’t seen any proof that they exist.”
She threw a bag of trash in the van with more force than nessecary.
“What attacked you then?”
At this he paused. “I don’t know. But I’m pretty sure it wasn’t a vampire.”
———
Percussionist and Trumpet made it to where Trombone was crying over Sax, the late afternoon sun reflecting off of their now pale skin.
“Hey, hey, it’s okay. He’ll be alright.”
Trombone looked up at him and snarled, all teeth and rage, and Percussionist jumped back.
”He’ll end up like me, won’t he.”
Percussionist nodded.
”I don’t know what world you’re living in, but this isn’t fucking alright!”
Trumpet walked over and knelt in front of Trombone. She held out her hand, and Trombone scrambled away.
”I don’t believe you would hurt me. Not right now. I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”
”so what?” She scoffed. “I still did it. Should I just go on existing as whatever I am now? Just kill people so I can live?”
”Actually,“ Percussionist said, “we can live off of different types of blood.”
Trumpet looked back and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Shut up you twatwaffle, can’t you see this is a delicate moment?”
”just figured it would be some good information to have.“ he said.
“Are you seriously telling me my angst fest was for nothing?” She asked.
Percussionist leaned against a tree. “Oh, don‘t worry.” He said. “Theres still plenty of angst about the immortality.”
“Sax did always say he wanted to be sixteen forever.”
Trumpet rolled her eyes. “Lets go home.”
Trombone reached out to take Trumpets hand, and Sax shot up and clamped his jaws around her throat. Trombone grabbed Trumpets wrist and pulled her away as Percussionist peeled Sax away.
”Let him.“ choked out Trumpet. “I‘ll be one of you either way.”
”Absolutely not!” Said Percussionist. “Trombone, go find literally anything else with blood.” Sax kicked and snarled in his grip. “Hurry! I’m not sure how much longer I can hold him.”
———
“Flute!” Yelled Clarinet. She had been looking for him for an hour now, and still couldn’t find him.
She was walking along an old trail that went out of use years ago when she almost tripped over him. He was curled up in the shade of a tree, hiding away in a hollow.
“What do you want.”
”I want to take you home.” She said.
he laughed. “Something like me doesn’t deserve a home. I killed people, and I knew there was another way, but I did it anyway. Just leave me here to rot.”
She remembered when she’d been like this. She had forgotten to eat, had slipped up. Its not a hard thing to do. When you’re a vampire, you brain tricks you into feeling fine by your old standards until you‘re so hungry you can’t stop it.
She believed it was all her fault, though. The only way someone had gotten through to her was something they had called twisting the knife. She had always called it shitty.
She sighed. “I wanted to say sorry.”
He poked his head out a little, peering up at her. “You didn’t do anything.”
”But I did.” She said. “I drained percussionist dry last night, and then I left him to find you. I watched while you attacked your friends, and now, I’m giving you a chance to fix the harm we caused. What will you do with it?”
”You made me like this?” He asked.
”Yes.”
he lunged at her face, fingers clawing for her eyes. She turned around and ran for the campsite, making sure he was behind her, and praying that he would forgive her for the stunt she just pulled.
———
The campsite was packed, and Percussionist and Trombone had made a game of who could catch the best songbird for Sax. Sax was less murderously inclined, though it was hard to tell if it was because the blood he had consumed or trumpets growing nonhumanness.
After the third or fourth time of watching Sax suck down a bird or squirrel like a juice box, Tuba was forced to admit that maybe vampires were a little real.
(He noticed his neck wound had already scabbed over and was halfway gone. He was afraid to ask if he was becoming one.)
The sun was slipping behind the tops of the trees when Clarinet charged out of the forest, leapt over the van, And yelled “Flutes trying to kill me!”
Flute burst into the clearing and lunged at Clarinet. Percussionist stepped in the way.
”What happened?“
”She did this in purpose! She said she dropped you in the woods to kill us!”
Percussionists blinked. “No she didn’t. She told me to stay where I was while she got something for me to eat.”
he stopped yelling. Now, he just looked confused. “But she turned you.”
”Yeah? It was an accident. She obviously regretted it.”
Percussionist backed off, and Flute looked at clarinet.
”why did you say all that then?”
“You were’t gonna come with me if I didn’t. Besides, you were spiraling and this was the easiest way to stop that.”
”Sounds like the shittiest way to stop it, too.” Scoffed Tuba.
She sighed. “Yeah. It was.”
”Hey,” asked sax. “Are any of us still human? I know me, Percussionist, and Trombone aren’t-“
”Percussionist, Trombone, and I.” Said Trumpet.
”-And I saw you two jump over my van, but whats up with the rest of you?”
”Basically,” said Clarinet, “anyone who was bit is or will become a vampire, depending on how much blood they had left in them after the bite. Was there anyone who wasn’t bit?”
everyone was silent as they all glanced at each other, looking for anyone who could say yes. It quickly became awkward, and was broken by Clarinet muttering “Fuck.” quietly under her breath.
”Who all, um, died today?”
Flute, Sax, and Trombone slowly raised their hands. Clarinet squinted at Percussionist, which prompted him to say “What? I died last night.”
French Horn yelled “past twenty four hours, dingus.”
He rolled his eyes and raised his hand.
”Alright. You three,” -she made a sweeping gesture towards the three with their hands down- “Are going to have the worst couple weeks of your life. Take a few days off of everything. Don’t go to the hospital. Stay isolated. Call me when the pain’s mostly over.”
Tuba’s lips pursed. “What, exactly, is going to happen to us?”
”The way it was explained to me was that your body slowly cannibalizes itself. It sucks.”
”hm.” He said. He looked very troubled.
They got in the van and drove through the night.
For now, they rest. A short break, before they have to figure out the rest of their lives.
#Not a super satisfying ending I know#Not the best writing I could’ve done either#I’m already planning out a sequel for how things go that will get into the nitty gritty of their character#And hopefully give them real names#THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A PLOT SUMMARY WHAT WHENT WRONG#(It started out as a kiss how did it end up like this)#Its still basically the bulletpoints version of this story with some banter mixed in#I did actually have a concrete well thought out(ish) plan#Then the characters (mostly trumpet and tuba) said “no thanks we’re too cool for your shit/to much of a himbo” respectively#And honestly? They’re right#Please keep in mind I made this when I was like 12-13 and havent developed it much since then but I love em all the same#I could be persuaded to attempt to draw them#Or at least picrew them#Anyways that took way too long thank you for sitting through this with me#Writing#my writing#oc#ocs#my ocs#writeblr#Bandpires
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Nautiscarader’s Wendip Week day 3: Prank War
geez, this one took a while. I apologise, and let’s hope next one will arrive faster
(ao3)
============
Someone standing outside of The Mystery Shack might have thought that the living room contained a very predictable lighting bug, or at least that someone inside was broadcasting a rather boring Morse code message using light signals.
In reality, it was just Wendy and Dipper, slouched on the sofa, surfing TV channels, giving each of them at most three seconds to entertain their bored minds. So far, none of them stood up to the challenge.
But as Wendy continued the only physical activity she had the energy for, i.e. pressing one button, something finally caught their attention.
- "What's up everyone? It's your boy, the Prankster Prancer!"
A loud, obnoxious, blonde man in his twenties, wearing spiky, gelled hair rode into the shot on a fake unicorn, face-hugged the camera, filling the wide-angle lens and made both Dipper and Wendy jump in their seats as loud horn noise shook the air around them.
- Wait, I thought this guy was only on the internet! - Wendy raised her brow - Did he escape to the real world?! - Come on, who in the right mind would give him a show? - "So, first of all, thanks to our station, The Cheese Network, for giving me the chance to entertain you guys..."
Dipper and Wendy groaned in collective understanding.
- "...and for giving us some cheese to pay for our last week's prank!"
The screen dimmed and the camera changed to an aerial shot, containing not only fires and flood, but also several military helicopters.
- "So last time we did some EPIC prank during the gender reveal party and we've made a hole in the ozone hole!"
The man made extra effort to extend every vowel in the last word, to an equally obnoxious collection of sound effects.
- Wow. That looks... bad. Even by our standards. - Wendy watched the footage. - Yeah. Good thing this dude stays away from us. - "And now it's time to reveal the next place for our EPIC PRANK!"
The man took a baseball bat and unceremoniously smashed the unicorn doll in half, and stuck his hand in the fake guts, revealing an envelope.
- "And this one is a suggestion from my top commentator on-line, that girl leaves comments under every single one of my videos, so I could not ignore her request".
The envelope was opened, and suddenly, a girl's voice began reading it.
- "Dear Prankster Prancer. I love your videos, and how creative your calamity can be..." - Wait a minute - Dipper sat up, as his eyes widened in horror - Is that- - "My name is Mabel Pines, and I am staying in a small town called Gravity Falls, in Oregon...".
Dipper and Wendy looked at each other and understood each other at once.
- Barricade the doors!
But it was too late. As Dipper ran towards the lobby, the door were smashed to the ground, seemingly under the power of the air horns, and flooded the Shack with lights. The same blonde man walked inside, as if he owned the place, leading with him Mabel Pines.
- What's up birches? Is that how you call people living in the middle of a forest? - he shoved his face to the camera again. - More like, in the middle of nowhere! - Mabel added, high-five'ing him - Thankfully, me and my Prankster Protégé are gonna rock this place! - he shouted.
Dipper Pines stood up and cleaned himself from the dust and debris, watching as the two rock their heads to some aggressive tune.
- Hold on a minute! Mabel, why did you invite him here? If anything, there's too much going around in here! - Ugh, this is my little brother, Dipper. - Mabel rolled her eyes - I'm-I'm not little! - Dipper stomped in place - We're twins!
Somewhere behind him, Wendy snickered.
- What, you just look adorable when you're angry.
Dipper turned back and stormed towards his sister.
- Mabel, do you have amnesia or something? Gravity Falls is full of amazing things! We've been on treasure hunts, found all sorts of monsters in every lake, glade and a cave... You wanted to date a zombie on out first day here! - Yeah, sure, kid, as if I could just walk into a forest and find a dead body... - the Prankster took a sip of soda, looking somewhat nervously. - Mabel, we've seen living dinosaurs here! - Yeah, like I can see one now!
The Prankster pointed to the kitchen and very confused Grunkle Stan in his pajamas.
- What in the DMV is going on here? - Check this out, a living fossil!
The Prankster jumped towards Grunkle Stan and unceremoniously took a selfie with him.
- Oh no, my eyes! The light is coming towards me instead of the other way around!
Stan cried when flash of light blinded him, and with a sleigh of hand, the blonde man undid his belt, causing Stan to nearly trip and fall, if it wasn't for Wendy.
- Hey, you! You're not a prankster, you're a jerk!
At the sound of those words, the man stopped laughing and turned his attention, as well as cameras, towards Wendy.
- What's that? We've got ourselves a HATER!
An air horn was about to blow her hat off, but Wendy swiftly grabbed it and twisted it.
- Yeah, that's what I've said, you're a jerk. I like pranking people, but not to hurt them. - And watchu gonna do, leave a mean comment? - No, we're gonna prank you. - Wendy reached and brought Dipper towards her. - Cos we've done some pranking together ourselves! - Like what? - Like... when we've made our friend think his inflatable tube could talk!
The Prankster shot them with a dead stare.
- You know what, I don't even have time to play the "wah-wah" soundbite. But if you want to lose, your call. Tomorrow, we're gonna get an EPIC PRANK-OFF!
And he shot a pose in front of the camera.
- Right, now tell me where's someplace to eat. And they better have unlimited refills. - Lazy Susan is neat. And there's water tower nearby...
And with that, he and Mabel walked off, leaving the small destruction behind them.
- Wendy! - Dipper turned at once towards her - Are you crazy? He has entire film crew! And money! And very little empathy! He's gonna plough through us! - Chill out, man, we're gonna trick him, one way or another.
And she gently smacked the edge of his hat.
- Er, I know you guys like to babble all the time, but I still can't get up. - Grunkle Stan grumbled from the floor.
=============
The next day, Wendy woke up at the break of dawn with unbridled optimism. Dipper less so, and he was a bit nervous when Wendy gathered him and her crew in the small lumberjack shack in the woods to explain the plan of action.
- So, any questions? - she asked
At the same time, every teenager in the small room raised hands.
- So, how does exactly the can of whipped cream is supposed to work with the rake? - Tambry asked - And what do we have to do with the rat-shaped balloons? - Thompson asked shyly. - And can't we just... punch him? - Robbie suggested, mimicking the action. - Ugh, you guys!
Wendy groaned and hid her face in her hands. hearing the murmurs of doubt across the room, Dipper quickly stood up and continued.
- Guys, this jerk is giving us, pranksters, a bad name! We gotta prank him in a way that shows we are better... Because we can do better!
He watched as faces of the older teenagers brighten with his speech. Several of them even smiled.
- Plus he could, like, sue us for millions of dollars, so we gotta stay clean.
With newly gained optimism, the gang rushed to Thompson's van and readied themselves for the prank.
- Thanks, man, for giving me a hand. - Wendy suddenly patted Dipper's back. - Oh, no-no problem. - Dipper spoke, wondering if she noticed his blush.
=========
- Alright, we're all in places.
Wendy spoke to her phone, and observed the places, leaning from behind the wall. Her eyes moved from Robbie, hidden in the abandoned ice-cream stall, to Thompson, on top of a tree, to Tambry, pretending to read a large newspaper, and finally, to Dipper, holding a bag of provisions.
- We-Wendy, I'm not sure if this is gonna work. - Now!
She commanded, as Prankster walked nonchalantly out of the store. He thre away the half-eaten sandwich he just bought and was about to walk into the string that would have activate the whipped cream... if he didn't make a sudden jump.
He then threw something into the stall.
- Oh, crap, it's a grenade!
Robbie stormed out, tripping on the same wire he helped setting up, which resulted in his black hair covered in white goo and sprinkles.
Tambry was supposed attack next, but Prankester was already next to her. He took a bucket of soapy water and dumped it over her, destroying her diguise that covered her pruple hair.
For Thompson, he didn't even have to do much - he threw a mouse toy into the air, and listened how the boy tumbles down, shrieking.
And finally, he took something big and colourful out of his backpack and tossed it onto the street, watching as Dipper and Wendy rush towards it.
- Limited edition Giraffeoala!
They realised the two were after it when it was too late. Their heads collided with each other, just as the elusive plushie was yanked from their hands, back into his bag.
- Seriously, guys? You wanted to outsmart me? There like five of you and you couldn't do it. - Ha! That was a good one! - Mabel emerged from behind his back and did another high-five. - But I couldn't do it without you. - he pointed at her. - Me? But I didn't do anything... - Of course you did.
The Prankster lowered his sunglasses.
- Last evening at that stupid bar. You told me you were friends with everyone here. You told me how one of them likes gloomy, dark places. Like another one is afraid of mice. Like another one never looks away from her phone...
Mabel's ecstatic, radiant smile faded with each word the Prankster spoke, and her eyes, widened from excitation began to fill with tears.
- And, well, you told me what these two dorks are obsessed about... amongst other things. - Mabel! - Wendy and Dipper cried at the same time. - But-But I didn't... - Aw, really? You feel sad for them? LAME. - he pushed her aside and waved for his crew that followed him anyway.
For quite a while, all the small town could hear was Mabel Pines sobbing, until someone closed his arms around her.
- There, there, sis. - Dipper spoke quietly. - I guess you see why were so angry now. - I-I didn't know he would...
Dipper hugged her, letting her cry as much as she wants into his vest.
- It's not your fault, Mabel. - Wendy added, taking a knee and gently patting her. - But-But it is! - Well... Kinda... - Robbie added, and received a cold, piercing stare from Wendy. - Jerks like that like to... use people. And they know that the best ones are those, who are most trusting and kind.
Mabel's sniffing stopped, as Wendy continued.
- But you know what? - Dipper spoke suddenly - I think I got an idea...
He let go of his sister rushed to the Prankster, sitting on one of the toy unicorns, tossing quarter after quarter, while two children in queue began to tear up.
- Hey, you! - Ugh, you again, twerp. What, want me to reveal more secrets about you and your stupid hobbies? Or, like, who is your biggest crush after a toy plushie from the 90s?
Dipper's face reddened, but he remained unperturbed.
- We're not done yet. Tomorrow we're gonna prank you for good. Double or nothing! - Ugh, sure, fine. - the Prankster didn't even look at him - It's not like I can do anything until my lawyers clean up the whole "gender reveal party" fiasco. Like, who cares if the whole state is now inhabitable for life?
==============
By the next morning, the battleground was set. Cameras and tons of equipment surrounded the small grassy meadow in front of the Mystery Shack, where Dipper and Wendy were sitting in their chairs with their arms crossed, both wearing much more confident smiles. And the fact that Mabel was with them added them extra layer of morale.
When the clock struck 12, a mighty roar shook the place, as monster truck drove from behind the tree line, smoking and setting nearby branches on fire. The Prankster Prancer jumped out of it, and, drowned in the flashes of cameras, walked into his place.
- So, are you twerps ready for the FINAL PRANK OF YOUR LIFE? - he roared into the microphone, rolling his tongue back and forth as if he was about to eat it. - Nah, we're not gonna prank you. - Wendy shrugged - But someone else will.
The newly reinstalled door to the Mystery Shack opened, and a new figure appeared. An elderly woman walked out, being led by Grunkle Stan that gallantly helped her, for once not sneaking his hand into her purse.
And when she looked up from behind her glasses, the confident smile on Prancer's face disappeared at once.
- Grandma?! What-What are you doing here?! - Oh, don't you know? - Grunkle Stan rushed with explanation - We, old folks, all know each other. And I simply couldn't let her miss her grandson's grand day! - I'm so glad I can see you, Archibald!
The elderly lady used her cane to hook him by his neck and brought him into his arms, despite his best efforts to avoid any interactions.
- G-Grandma, don't- don't call me that! - Why not? - she continued, seemingly ignoring her grandson efforts to escape her tight hug. - I am your grandma, and I will call you by your full name, Archibald Roderick Sebastian Eugene!
Somewhere behind them, Dipper, Wendy and Mabel were having the time of their life, trying to hide their laughter.
- So, wait, his initials literally make him an... - Grandma! Make them stop! They-they are laughing at me! - Nonsense! Those young folks told me all your fans would love to see me talk about you. So I've send them some photos via the eclectic mail!
The blonde man looked to the side at Wendy and Dipper's faces. Their wide smiles told him everything, and in the act of ultimate desperation, he gently shook his head, silently mouthing his plea. He then looked at Mabel's, but hers was filled with spite.
In response, Mabel simply pressed a button.
The enormous screen behind them lit up, showing an adorable newborn blonde boy in diaper, giggling at the baby rattle.
Several more followed, showing his equally naked body in progressively embarrassing positions.
The screen changed, and the same boy was now three-years old, wearing a strict haircut as well as a bowtie. And the worst part was, he looked happy.
The Prankster Prancer fell to his knees, as tears began rolling from his eyes, which his grandma quickly dried with her handkerchief.
- Oh, yes, I do tear up a little at this one too. Oh, but the next one makes me so proud!
Prancer's eyes widen, if possibly even more, and throwing away all the pretence, he rushed to Wendy and Dipper and began begging them for mercy. But it was for nothing. He knew they have seen the photo already.
And with another press of a button, a seven-year old Prancer was shown, wearing a blue cardigan, sitting in an armchair with a big book in his hands, smiling at the camera, proudly showing his braces.
The scanned photo displayed a title, written in crayon over it.
"I love school!"
Flocks of birds flew into the air from the nearby trees in response to the shriek that reverberated the air, full of remorse, despair, and unmistakably, defeat.
- Nooooo!
The Prancer hit the ground with his fists, for which he was quickly reprimanded by his grandma ("You're going to make them dirty!"), while Wendy and Dipper high-fived each other, before giving Mabel a warm hug.
=============
- So I guess that will teach him? - Dipper asked Wendy as the two lay on the sofa, flicking through the channels again. - Pfh. I wish it did. - Wendy reached for her phone and showed Dipper a familiar blonde man waving his arms uncontrollably. - "What's up Prankster Pros? It's ya boy, and I've got this sweet book deal full of my MOST EMBARASSING photos! Look at that baby bottom! Only for $99.99..." - Geez, I guess they never learn. - Nope. But at least he's not here...
For a while the room dimmed every few seconds, as Wendy searched for anything interesting, but something else was on Dipper's mind.
- So... about those Cuddle Buddies...
The remote fell out of Wendy's hand.
- Uh, yeah, so, I just...
She shied away and mumbled her answer, until she saw a polite smile on Dipper's face.
- So, like, remember ever since you wanted to win that Duck Panda for me? I... kinda got into them, you know. Not like, obsessively collecting them, but... you know. - Yeah, I do. For cuddling.
The two looked at each other and exchanged the same, warm smiles.
- So which generation you like the most? - Well, gen 2 obviously - she rolled her eyes - What? Five is the best. - The best as sucking, perhaps. - Come on, they had changed the lead designer and everything, but they're still Cuddle Buddies...
For quite a while, the channel stayed on, as neither of them bother to change it. And when the night fell on, Wendy and Dipper realised that they might have discovered something new to talk about.
#nautiscaraderfics#wendipweek#wendip week#wendip#wendy corduroy#dipper pines#gravity falls#prank war
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Date Night (A KimxRon fic)
Alrighty, here’s a little writing exercise for myself! This prompt was from @gothicthundra and I’m very grateful to everyone else for suggested prompts! I’ll get to them hopefully soon. Put under a read more for space purposes haha, this is set during Season 4 just so I can start on familiar ground. I really, really hope I didn’t butcher the characters....
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“You think you’re all that, Kim Possible!! But you’re nooooooot!!!!” Dr. Drakken yelled out angrily as he flew away with Shego in his hovercar, once again defeated. Kim Possible, teen superhero, stood up and dusted herself off after a job well done. “Okay, Drakken, whatever you say,” she said sarcastically.
“Y’know, how many times is he going to say that line?” Ron Stoppable came up behind her, picking a piece of dirt off her shoulder that she missed. Her best friend-turned-boyfriend crossed his arms, “You’d think that after the first couple of hundred times his butt was kicked, he’d come up with something else”.
“Well, at least Drakken didn’t get his hands on that chromium gem to power whatever his newest hairbrained scheme, AND we got it done before dinnertime!” Kim looked at her watch, “Perfect!”
“Yeah! We can stop at Bueno Nacho on the way home!” Ron exclaimed. Rufus came out of his pocket and ran up Ron’s shoulder and squeaked “Mmm, dinner! Hungry!”
Kim smiled and took out the Kimmunicator, “Sorry, I have some AP English homework I have to do tonight. Wade?” She called, and within seconds their friend blipped on the screen, “Can you get us a ride back to Middleton?”
“Hey guys, didja get Drakken before he got the goods?” Wade asked, already typing away looking for a contact. “Yeah, the chromium gem is safe and sound in the lab,” she assured. “Cool, you��re ride’s on it’s way!” Wade gave a thumbs up, to which Kim gave her thanks and put the Kimmunicator away.
“English homework? On a Friday night? But I thought Friday night was our night!” Ron said, continuing their conversation.
“Not officially!”
“Aw man, that rips,” Ron moaned, “I was hoping we’d be able to spend some time together.” Kim raised her eyebrow, “Ron, all we ever do is spend time together.”
“Yeah, I know, but I meant something along the lines of a date. Maybe a movie, maybe we could have watched the newest episode of Agony County, grab a pizza....you know,” Ron rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. It was something he felt he could never get used to, talking about going on dates with Kim; it was like a never-ending dream, being her boyfriend. Kim smiled affectionately and grabbed his hand, “Sorry, but I really want to get a headstart on this homework. You know you can still come over?”
“Nah, I dont want to distract you if you’re working. I’ll just head home and play some Zombie Mayhem 2. What about tomorrow? I can take you out to dinner, we could go to a movie or take a stroll around town?” They began walking downhill to their rendezvous point. Kim put her finger to her chin as she thought, “Hmm....tomorrow’s looking pretty free, dinner and a walk sound great.”
“Coolness! Pick you up at 7?”
“It’s a date,” Kim giggled.
--THE NEXT DAY--
“Monique, I don’t have a clue what I should wear!” Kim wailed into her phone, shoving her clothes aside in her closet. She picked up a blue flowy long-sleeve shirt and held it up to herself in front of her mirror.
“Girl, it’s a date. You said he’s taking you out to dinner?” Her other best friend asked. “Yeah, but I dont know where, I dont want to be too over-dressed,” Kim said.
“If it’s Bueno Nacho, then it’s most likely over-dressed,” Monique deadpanned. “No, I don’t think it’s Bueno Nacho this time, he sounded like he really wanted to make this a real date,” the redhead mused, holding up a forest green long-sleeved shirt that had cut-outs on the shoulders to herself. She smiled and put it on the bed, returning to her closet for a pair of pants.
“Well, good on him! Look Kim, it’s Ron, you have nothing to worry about! It’s not like you haven’t known each other your whole lives,” Monique pointed out. Kim took a deep breath and let it out slowly. She had to admit Monique had a point. She had nothing to worry about, she knew that as long as she was with Ron she was going to have a good time. She glanced up on her dresser mirror and saw the pictures she and Ron had taken in a photobooth a few years ago, and smiled at the familiar flutters in her gut she felt when she looked at him.
“You’re right, Monique...not to sound too dramatic, but it’s just that it’s a little weird to think about going on a date with Ron. I mean, a real date as boyfriend and girlfriend, not the stuff we usually do. But in a good way! It’s just...”
“New?” Monique offered. Kim smiled, “Yea, new. But I like it.” She pulled out a pair of dark jeans, a pair of black boots with a small heel and a necklace, “Alright, outfit picked, not too casual, but not too dressy. So not the drama, thanks Monique!”
“No problem Kim. TTYL, spill the deets on Monday!” her friend said her goodbyes and hung up. Kim got ready, put on the slightest bit of makeup, hoping her father wouldn’t notice but felt it was necessary. This was a date, she wasn’t an animal, and she wanted to look nice for Ron. She sprayed a little perfume, then went downstairs and sat on the sofa where her little brothers were watching some cartoon she didn’t care about, and her mother was reading a book.
“All ready for your date Kimmie? When’s Ron coming over?” Dr. Ann Possible glanced up, looking at her daughter. Kim took the fact she didn’t say anything about her makeup meant she looked fine by her parents’ standards and opened her mouth to answer--
“Kim’s going on a daaaaaaate!” Jim taunted. “Ew, cootie alert!” Tim followed, and both boys laughed. “Shut it, Tweebs!” Kim hissed. “Boys,” their mother warned, and the twins just grinned and turned back to their show. “Ron said he’d pick me up at 7. It’s just to dinner and a walk, nothing too fancy,” Kim told her mom. Mrs. Possible smiled and turned a page, “Well that’s nice, I hope you two have a good time.”
“Where’s Dad? Working late again?”
“Ah, you know your father when there’s a new project at work, he’ll probably be gone later than you will. Which by the way, not too late okay?” Mrs. Possible looked up sternly. “I know Mom, 10 o’ clock,” Kim rolled her eyes good-naturedly. Her mother smiled, “Let’s make it 10;30. It’s Saturday, and it’s Ron, it’s not like he’s a stranger.”
Kim gasped, “Really? Oh thank you Mom!”
Mrs. Possible chuckled and pat her daughter on the hand, “Of course Kimmie, and if your father has anything to say he can talk to me about it.” She returned to her book again, and at that moment the doorbell rang.
Kim answered the door to Ron in a nice button-down short-sleeved red plaid shirt with a darker red t-shirt underneath, a pair of light blue jeans and sneakers. Kim was grateful that he had decided not to wear his usual jersey and so didn’t say anything except “Wow, look at you!” To which Ron giggled nervously and produced a bouquet of lilies. Kim smiled and took them happily.
“Good evening mademoiselle, and may I say you look very enchanting this evening,” He lifted an eyebrow in a flirty way. Kim laughed into her hand, then went inside to put the bouquet in a vase. He followed her inside and waved, “Hey Dr. P!”
“Hello Ron! Have Kim home by 10:30, okay?”
“You got it!” He called back as Kim dragged him out of the house. They walked down the walkway to where his scooter was parked and Ron handed her a helmet. “So where are we headed, Mr. Romantic?” Kim asked as she put it on and climbed on the back of the scooter.
“There’s this Italian place downtown I thought we could check out, DiPaolo’s,” He revved up the scooter, Kim grabbed his waist and they left. “Is that okay?”
“I could go for pasta,” Kim said, resting her head on his back. “At least it’s not Bueno Nacho.” Ron smiled as his tummy turned slightly and they rode in silence.
At the restaurant they initially sat in uncomfortable silence as they realized this was their first real, fancy-ish not-naco-and-a-movie date since becoming a couple and didn’t know what to do. Ron glanced at the menu and was glad his father lent him some money--not too expensive but not quite cheap either. He glanced up at Kim and could swear he was looking at an angel. She looked beautiful (well I mean not that she isn’t all the time but WOW) and he was once again wondering how he was so lucky to have been the one Kim chose to be with. He smiled affectionately, and when Kim caught his eye she smiled back shyly.
“Hey KP, this is so...well, I mean...I just...” he began, but sputtered nervously. Great, not how he wanted to start, real smooth Stoppable. But Kim put her hand on his, to which he looked up and saw her still smiling and shaking her head.
“Oh Ron, look...if it makes you feel better, I’m nervous too.”
“You? But you’re never nervous!”
“I am when it comes to cute boys,” she said slyly. Ron giggled and rubbed the back of his neck, “Haha, yeah...but I didn’t want to be nervous. I mean, we shouldn’t be, right? I mean, it’s us.”
Kim leaned back in her seat, “You’re right...it is us, but this is something I guess we never really expected. Still, I’m glad it happened, and I’m glad you’re here with me.” Ron smiled and took her hand again, “Yeah?”
“Of course. Here’s an idea: let’s just pretend this is just another hangout at Bueno Nacho, and we’ll go from there one step at a time, okay?” She squeezed his hand.
“Yeah!” Just then the waiter came up and asked “What can I get you to drink?” with his notepad and pen poised. Kim ordered a water with lemon, and when the waiter turned to Ron, he studied the menu for a minute before looking at the waiter. “I’ll have a coco-moo....I mean, ah.....iced tea! Yeah, iced tea please, heh heh,” he chuckled nervously. The waiter and Kim raised an eyebrow, exchanged a glance, and the waiter walked away to get their drinks.
“Coco-moo?” Kim inquired. Ron shrugged a shoulder, “I heard it somewhere once, can’t remember. Anyway,” he said, clearly trying to move on, “did you finish your English paper?”
The rest of dinner went easily, and neither of the teens could believe they were even nervous to begin with. When they got past the initial awkwardness, it was like everything was as it had always been, just with more handholding and kisses and neither of them were complaining about that.
Afterwards, they rode Ron’s scooter to the park and just walked hand in hand. They stopped at a familiar, graffiti covered wall and sat on the bench nearby. “Hey, remember when you were hit with Drakken’s weird plant and were going to disappear every time you got embarrassed?” Ron asked.
Kim rolled her eyes, “How could I forget? They followed me on my date with Josh Mankey and tried to embarrass me themselves! Not to mention the embarrassment ninjas and the Tweebs...did you know they set up a projector and showed embarrassing pictures of me here on this wall?”
Ron winced, “Oof, that’s harsh. Embarrassment ninjas?” Kim nodded, “Yeah, but then you came through and got me out of it just in time.” Ron shrugged, “Well I wasn’t going to just let you disappear. Although, I was surprised you weren’t in your room, Wade and I had to track you down.”
Kim looked away sheepishly, “Yea...I’m sorry about that...” Ron waved his hand and gave his goofy smile, “Hey no big, KP. Everything turned out fine and the Ron-Man saved the day!” Ron tried not to think about how he had felt when he saw Kim out with Mankey, risking her life just for a date. He remembered giving her a thumbs up when she looked at him in gratitude, because like Mankey or not (which he absolutely did not) he was going to support his best friend.
But that didn’t stop the pang he had felt in his chest that night.
“You know, I think that might have been the first time I noticed I liked you,” Ron said thoughtfully. “What?” Kim asked, looking at him. He winced, “Did I say that out loud?”
“Yea, but what do you mean? When I was on my date with Josh?” She asked. She was surprised he had liked her for that long, and a little pleased.
“Yea. I know I didn’t like him but I wasn’t going to let that get in the way of you dating him if you had wanted that. But seeing you there, all happy on your date, I was....”
“Jellin’?”
“What?”
“Sorry, I mean jealous?”
“Yeah, I guess so. I had never really thought about it, about you, that way up until then. But I still didn’t think about it up until the end of last year. And I didn’t know what you thought of me, you know?” The blonde put his hands together and twiddled his thumbs.
Kim faced him, “Ron, why didn’t you say anything?” Ron shrugged, “I didn’t want to risk our friendship.” Kim understood, she had wrestled with the thought for years on her end. She smiled and put a hand on his cheek, “Well let me be the first to say that I like you, Ron Stoppable, and I am very glad that you are my boyfriend. I wouldn’t trade you for anything in the world.”
They smiled at each other and leaned in for a tender kiss. They remained that way, in a sweet embrace for some time before they had to come up for some air. Ron leaned back and looked at her through half-lidded eyes. Her cheeks were red and there was a sparkle in her eye; he felt his heart swell and once again thanked the universe for making him the luckiest man in the world.
“I love you, KP.”
Kim’s eyes turned bright as she felt herself warm up from head to toe; she felt an almost weightless-ness as her chest swelled tight. She could burst out of happiness, and nothing could ruin this moment for her--not even Shego.
She threw her arms around his neck and captured his lips once again, and they could feel each other smiling into it. As they pulled away, Kim let out a sigh, “Best date ever.”
Ron laughed, “Boo-yah! I still got the way with the ladies!” Kim just smiled at her goofball. She looked at her watch: 10:15. “Well, we better head back home. Let’s go, Romeo.”
The drove back to the Possible house; Kim was slightly relieved to see that her mother had been right and Mr. Possible was still working. No pesky questions, no matter how well-meaning her dad was. They both got off, since Ron was going to walk her to the door--he knew the basic boyfriend rules.
“So you wanna come over and watch the latest Agony County episode tomorrow? I taped it,” Kim asked, her hand on the door. “You got it! Order a pizza?” Ron asked.
“Psshh-yeah! Isn’t that the tradition?”
“Bon diggity, I’ll bring the popcorn and soda,” Ron said excitedly. “Well, ‘night KP!”
Kim leaned in and gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Goodnight Ron. Tonight was perfect. See you tomorrow!”
Ron waited until she went inside before he walked back to his scooter and walked it into the garage of his house next door. He went up to his room, smiling so hard he thought his face was going to break in half. When he walked in, Rufus looked up from the video game he was playing and squeaked at him as if to ask how it went.
“Rufus, buddy, your main man Ron’s still got the moves,” Ron said, then sighed happily as he flopped on his bed. Rufus squealed happily and ran next to him.
“I was wrong Rufus. Love isn’t complicated...it’s great!”
#Ooof welp that's it lmaoooooo#I really hope yall like it this took me 4 hours to write *hides in shame*#kim x ron#kim possible#ron stoppable#I have NO idea how to write an ending ugh
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