#their take wasn’t even bad or offensive it’s just so annoying when people do this lmao
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i love it when people use the weakest possible claims for clout in an argument. “as someone who’s been to cuba…” i actually don’t care where you’ve been hope this helps ❤️
#their take wasn’t even bad or offensive it’s just so annoying when people do this lmao#i’m gonna start responding with shit like ‘as someone who studied abroad in paris i think the french should set the mona lisa on fire’#a.txt
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Watching a reactor on YouTube who just got to Season 4: Lazarus Rising, and I’m so annoyed by the amount of comments with people saying things like, "this is when the series REALLY starts" and "Seasons 1-3 were the prologue, now The Story begins" and "I’ve been waiting for you to meet my favorite character!"
First, I will never be able to understand Castiel being someone's legitimate favorite character. I just don’t get it. He starts off as a massive dick, becomes an ally, uses and betrays both brothers a number of times, rarely takes full responsibility for his actions, and ends up as a totally different and neutered version of himself. But this guy is your favorite!? The only reason I think a large number of fans who love him do is because he comes in the gate treating Sam like crap and he becomes a simp for Dean (or they are shippers). Also, if someone is a more casual fan, I can see enjoying Cass because he’s quirky and he mostly stands up for the Winchesters, but if someone is a big fan of the brothers, Cass makes their lives harder a lot of the time. Also, I’m coming to really hate the fact that the dude is always in a trench coat. How am I supposed to take a character seriously who is essentially like an unchanging cartoon character come to life? Anyway, despite how it might sound from my ranting, I actually do think people are allowed to love whatever character they want, but it just doesn’t compute for me personally that it’s Cass as he is on screen (not in someone’s head).
Next, the idea of people calling the first three seasons "The Prologue" to supernatural is offensive to me personally (well, not offensive but it’s dumb as hell). A prologue is used to give some important background that should be known for you to better understand the main story, but it happened before, or doesn’t quite fit into, the main narrative. I’m sorry, but the first three seasons of Supernatural are the foundation that everything builds off of, and maybe I’m splitting hairs here, but it’s not just the set up to the Real Story. The Real Story of Supernatural has always been and will always be "the epic love story of Sam and Dean," not the angel crap. Calling the basis of the whole show the prologue has an implied message that it’s not as important as, or connected to the rest of the story. Again, people are allowed to have their own opinions about what they enjoy in media, but this idea that what came before Season 4 wasn’t as important as the rest of the show is actually bad media literacy, especially when you consider how much retconning and inconsistency later seasons have (*cough* John Winchester, for exapmle). The early seasons are Supernatural at its most pure, and if you don’t like or care about Sam and Dean's story, what are you doing here?
I was going to go on by listing all of the important things that we learn about Sam and Dean's characters and relationship in the first three seasons, but honesty, I’m tired. If you’re reading my post, I’m sure you already know. True fans of the show, even if seasons 1 to 3 aren’t their favorite, know how important these seasons are. Frankly, if someone claims that they don’t matter as much as the later season, then I’m going to assume that they are probably a heller (and I’m probably right), thus their opinions on the show don’t matter.
Speaking of Hellers, they are the Jehovah’s Witnesses of fandom. They descend on your doorstep (YouTube video, blog post, etc), uninvited and unwelcome, to make you uncomfortable by forcing their literature (head-canons and subtext) on you in a vain attempt to make you convert to their twisted version of a cult religion (Destiel). Some get indoctrinated into their cult, others consider them a joke, and yet others are driven to madness by the constant hounding of the hellers. I wish they would just stay in their lane and let people come to their own conclusions about the show and the characters, but they try to gatekeep the fandom experience by jumping on anyone new and telling them how they are the "most popular ship" and that supernatural queerbaits, but Dean and Cass are still totes husbands, and there is some other guy there, too but Sam is just some jerk who isn’t as important as Wuwu Dean and their Little Meow Meow Cass. If somone actually sees and enjoys Destiel on their own, great, good for them; they’ll find the blogs and groups who love it too. Hellers don’t need to try actively recruiting people. It’s all just a numbers gone to them. We have the most fanfic (um, yes, because the show doesn’t deliver what you want), we are the most popular ship (sure, because the other main ship is brothers which squicks some people out, and because you crucify anyone who admits to being a Wincest shipper), and they tell the stupidest lies (the show shifts away from being about the brothers, and focusses more on Dean and Cass' "relationship," and Sam isn’t as important to the story later). I wish they would just stay in their own sandbox and not come pee in everyone else's. Cult like behavior in action.
Okay, deep breaths. I’m grad I got that one off of my chest, but my blog is getting very ranty. I’m going to try make sure my next post is a positive one.
Happy weekend everyone!
#anti hellers#anti destiel#supernatural#sam and dean#spn meta#Fandom BS#Castiel critical#the epic love story of Sam and Dean#thanks to the gif makers
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Texts: The Blair Witch Project [Bale!Bruce Wayne]
Pairing: Christian Bale!Bruce Wayne x OC
Summary: Text messages exchanged by Bruce and Demetria while Demetria watches “The Blair Witch Project.” Prior to events in Becoming Mrs. Wayne.
Warning: Minor spoilers for “The Blair Witch Project.”
NOT MY GIF
Texts from Demetria: Italicized
Texts from Bruce: Bold
How’s everything at your mother’s?
Good! We went out for dinner and now Henry and I are watching a movie.
What movie?
The Blair Witch Project. Have you seen it?
Can’t say I have.
It’s a horror film. It came out like almost a decade ago. Basically it’s found footage of the these three people who get lost in the woods searching for the Blair Witch.
What do you mean found footage?
So it’s in the style of video cameras unlike traditional movie cameras. The people who get lost were filming a documentary about the Blair Witch and they document getting lost and the creepy shit that happened to them.
Is this something that actually happened?
Here’s the crazy part - they marketed it like it was real but it wasn’t. It was just a bunch of actors. It felt real at the time. I saw it in theaters with Henry and Harvey when it came out and our minds were blown when we later found out that it wasn’t real.
Please tell me Harvey got scared.
Nope.
I won’t lie, I’m a little disappointed.
I’m sorry to disappoint you, handsome.
It’s alright.
I will say I didn’t strike you as a horror movie person.
I’m not but this one isn’t too bad. You would hate it though.
Why’s that?
You would be annoyed by these people in the movie. I wish you were here so I could hear your commentary.
I wish I was there too. Sounds like you’re having a great night.
Mom and Henry were sad you couldn’t make it.
Next time, I promise. This merger is massive and we’re working around the clock to make sure it get done.
They understand completely. They just love you.
I know your mother does. Henry…I don’t know if love is the right word.
He does like you. He’s just being protective.
More importantly though, I love you!
Yeah that is more important than your brother’s love. No offense to him.
And I love you too.
I’m gonna miss sleeping with you tonight.
Oh yeah?
Yeah. I always sleep better with you.
Have I never told you this?
I would remember something like that. How do you sleep better with me?
You’re make me safe and comfortable. You’re a cuddler and so when I’m in the dark, I know you’re right there. I can’t even sleep with the light off when I’m alone.
You don’t sleep with the lights off?
No I don’t like being in the dark all alone.
I never knew that. Good to know in the future.
I hope not for prank reasons.
Sweetheart, you should know by now I’m not exactly a prankster like that.
No but you are mischievous.
How else am I gonna keep you on your toes?
I do love that you just glazed over that fact I told you you made me feel safe and comfortable.
It was acknowledged. I’m just not used to being told I make someone feel that way.
Well I mean it.
Promise me one thing - you will never take me into the woods.
I promise, but I would like to know where this is coming from.
So I’m at the part in the movie where they lose the map.
They lost the map? How did they lose the map?
I think the real mistake was going into the woods. That’s just me though.
When you get back to Gotham, we’re watching this movie.
You’re gonna hate it.
The movie? Probably. Your company? Never. Besides, I have a feeling we’ll be too occupied to watch it.
I have a feeling you’re right too ;)
Well, Henry just fell asleep. I’m gonna head to bed myself.
Want me to call you when you’re all settled? I’ll stay on the line til’ you fall asleep.
You would do that?
Of course I would. Call me when you’re ready, Sweetheart.
==========================
ONE WEEK LATER
“This is the dumbest movie I’ve ever seen.”
Demetria cackled, throwing her head back. Bruce turned to her, his face slightly scrunched.
“What? I’m serious,” he said.
“ I told you you would hate it!”
“I don’t hate it but it’s hard to enjoy people being morons.”
She smiled, playing with his hair. “So you’re saying you could survive out in some haunted woods with limited resources and no map?”
“Easily.”
“And if I asked Alfred?”
He waved his hands. “We don’t need to bring him into this.”
“I think we-.”
Before she could finish, Bruce’s lips were on hers. After that, the conversation and the movie had been disregarded.
#christian bale#batman#the dark knight#bale!batman#batman x reader#bruce wayne x oc#the dark knight fanfiction#batman fanfic
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LBTE: Jared (147-148)
In which Bryce and Jared fight, make up, and learn about the 'Bryce and Jared are being gross again' group chat. Also a relationship is brewing in the background.
If you want to follow along, the series page is here.
147. Coddled
If Jared suggests a walk Bryce scoffs like he’s being ridiculous. A drive? A date? Hanging out with Gabe and Stephen? Absurd. He doesn’t even want to hang out with Dmitry, which is not something Jared thought he’d ever be trying to force on him. He doesn’t want to watch a movie, or TV. He doesn’t want to eat Jared’s cooking, or go for dinner, or grab takeout, or get something delivered.
And it’s not just that he doesn’t want to do things: he doesn’t want Jared to do things either, with or without Bryce. If Jared hangs out with Gabe and/or Stephen, Bryce looks hurt, even though he’s been invited every time. If Jared goes for a walk he returns to a betrayed face. If Jared goes to work out Bryce looks like Jared kicked him in the teeth.
Bryce has firmly hit the ‘I don’t want to be cheered up and I don’t to have fun and cheery people who have fun are offensive to me’ stage of recovery.
And Jared doesn’t want Bryce going in on his own, not because he’s scared of doctors or anything, just because he mutely accepts whatever’s said, doesn’t advocate for himself, doesn’t even seem like he was there sometimes, for all the information he has after.
Bryce is very ‘nod nod nod’ with doctors. Jared is ‘ask questions and take notes’ with doctors.
And now Elaine goes with Bryce to his appointments. Jared texts her questions to ask the doctors, and she asks all of them and writes down the answers for him.
Elaine is a natural ‘nod nod nod’ herself, but Jared asked her for help, so.
Before he was told he needed surgery, Bryce was stoic. All ‘I’m fine’, ‘it’s fine’, ‘I can’t believe they’re making such a big deal about this, I’ve played through this shit before’. As soon as he was told he wasn’t playing hockey without surgery he crumpled into the miserable ball he is right now, but before that? Jared didn’t have a clue how bad it was, and Bryce didn’t seem to either. That, or he was very good at pretending.
He was definitely downplaying it, but he didn’t know how bad it was either. The key there is ‘I’ve played through this shit before’.
He does, however, ask how Bryce is feeling and whether he’s in pain and if he needs help with anything so frequently that it’s clearly annoying, though frankly everything seems to be annoying to Bryce right now. Which: fine. Good. Turnabout is fair play, they can annoy each other until they die.
~Romance.
“Hi Jared,” Elaine says brightly.
“I hate your son,” Jared says.
“He in the ‘sulking room’?” Elaine asks, still smiling. Jared can hear the quotes. Elaine’s heart is too pure to call it that herself, other than echoing Jared’s occasional — semi-frequent — rants. She’s a good listener. And understands. And doesn’t stomp to the sulking room in a snit fit.
Elaine is the most patient person alive. With both of them.
Elaine is allowed in the sulking room, which is bullshit.
That is because the sulking room is mostly the ‘be cranky without Jared getting cranky about me being cranky’ room at this stage. Bryce isn’t big on solitude, generally. But Jared keeps suggesting activities, and offering things, and telling him he’s the most annoying person alive, when Bryce just wants to sulk. (the sulking room is not an inaccurate name)
And he's stuck with that exasperating, dramatic sulking child of a —
"Please, Jared," Bryce says, voice dripping with sarcasm. "Tell me how you really feel about me.”
A dramatic sulking child of a husband who uses his own tactics against him. That's fucking bullshit. Sarcasm is not Bryce's thing. It's Jared's thing. Bryce can't just take his things.
They’re both intolerable.
"You're both intolerable," Stephen says
Stephen’s with me.
“Gabe doesn’t like confrontation,” Stephen says, in a way that makes it clear he considers that a flaw.
“Neither do you,” Gabe says. “You literally got on multiple planes—"
Stephen is very much on the flight side of fight or flight. Literally, in that case.
“Who’s fighting?” Gabe says. “Well. Other than the obvious.”
His gesture encompasses Jared and an empty seat at the table beside him. Bryce has locked himself in the bathroom, Jared’s pretty sure.
As is Bryce.
“And I think you’re done with the wine now,” Gabe says, emptying the bottle in Stephen’s glass before going to the kitchen. He takes Jared’s half-full glass of wine with him. Jared doesn’t protest.
Gabe is partly saying this because Jared is about to burst into tears, and alcohol won’t help the situation, but mostly this was because Stephen gave him raised eyebrows that Gabe correctly interpreted as ‘give us a minute?’.
“It’s the helplessness that fucks you up,” Stephen says, serious now. “The pain, the uncertainty, the betrayal of your body, the fucking sympathy, everyone tiptoeing around you like you’re about to explode, those are all awful. But it’s the helplessness. Well. And the itching.”
The itching isn’t so bad for Bryce, as he doesn’t have a cast, nor as much healing skin, but the rest is pretty accurate.
“Stop doing shit for him,” Stephen says. “Seriously. He doesn’t want it, and he doesn’t need it, and the sooner you stop, the better things are going to go for the next few months.”
“I’m not—“ Jared says.
“He can serve himself salad with one hand,” Stephen says. “You can do a lot with one hand. Let him ask if he needs you to help him. Stop assuming he does. And stop mistaking him taking awhile with things for him needing you to take over. He already feels helpless enough without you acting like you think so too.”
Jared also feels helpless. Also once again, Stephen giving Jared the advice he needs, phrased in a way that Jared will actually listen to, because they are very similar. (Sometimes so similar it makes Gabe vaguely uneasy, but mostly it means he's very fond of Jared. Also kind of protective of him.)
“I didn’t—“ Jared says.
“You did,” Stephen says. “And just from experience? It’s the most aggravating thing in the world. Other than the itching. Now go get him out of my bathroom.”
“I thought he didn’t need help,” Jared says.
“I’m sure he can manage the door knob,” Stephen says. “But that boy has a flair for the dramatic, and we will need our bathroom back eventually.”
“You have another bathroom,” Jared says.
“I don’t like the soap in that one,” Stephen says. “Stop stalling.”
Don’t think you can fool Stephen with your ‘stalling via argumentation’ tactics. He’s used that tactic far too many times for it to work on him.
“Guys,” Stephen says. “I really do hate the soap upstairs.”
Bryce snorts wetly into Jared’s shoulder. Jared kisses the top of his head.
“And fucking in our bathroom is a good way to completely destroy your recovery timeline,” Stephen says. “For the record. I’m not rushing them, Gabe, they’ve been in there for an hour. It’s our bathroom.”
It’s thick. Why is the upstairs soap THICK. That is not the right kind of texture for soap.
There wasn’t any fucking, but there was a lot of hugging and a few tears. Mostly from Bryce, but not solely.
“Ready to go out?” Jared asks.
“Only if Stephen doesn’t make fun of me,” Bryce says.
“Good luck with that,” Jared says, and when Bryce tilts his head up, he kisses his forehead, his nose, the corner of his mouth, tipped into a smile for what feels like the first time in forever.
*
Stephen doesn’t make fun of Bryce once. It’s a genuine miracle.
Stephen has a LOT of sympathy for Bryce right now. (And a fair amount for Jared too. He knows he was hard to be around during his recovery, for all Gabe would argue if he said as much.)
“Sixteen weeks is the best case scenario,” Elaine says when Jared calls, like she’s psychic. Or more likely she’s well aware what mood Bryce is in right now, since she was at the appointment with him, knew Bryce wasn’t in shape to be telling Jared shit.
“From the surgery date or—“ Jared says, then winces when Elaine makes a negative noise. He knew it was a long road from shoulder surgery, one of the longest there is, knew there was a reason players put it off if it wasn’t the only feasible course of action, but he’d thought Bryce would be on the lower end of it like the overachiever he is, had this dumb thought that the docs would be like, ‘wow, what a great job healing so far, Bryce, let’s cut the normal recovery estimate in half.’
Shoulder surgery falls behind hip surgery and like, broken femur, but not much else, as far as recovery timelines go in hockey.
You can’t rush back from that one. Can’t take faceoffs, can’t shoot a puck, can’t really properly carry your stick, let alone cross-check, slash or hook someone (I know those are penalties, but, you know ~also not, depending on how the refs are feeling/how many penalties each team has taken/the score.)
Also Jared unconsciously thinking Bryce is so great he’ll heal like Wolverine is very sweet.
“That’s the best case scenario,” Elaine says. “Most likely he won’t be in the roster until early March. Worst case scenario, he’ll miss the season. They say he should be ready for the postseason, but—”
Early March is almost dead on when Bryce got activated off LTIR.
Bryce’s shoulders shake, and Jared wonders, absurdly, if crying’s like, allowed in the rehabilitation plan.
But seriously though.
“You really thought I could like, push through surgery timetables?” Bryce says.
“I mean,” Jared says. It sounds stupid when Bryce says it like that, like a ridiculous hope. Which Jared guesses it was. “You’re very determined.”
Seriously. Very sweet.
“I know,” Jared says. “Is there — I know you don’t need help, but is there anything — can I do anything?”
“Just stay here?” Bryce says.
“Yeah,” Jared says, lacing their fingers. “I can do that.”
“Thanks,” Bryce says, and they have a good sulk in the sulking room together.
Their first co-sulk, but not their last.
Also look at you following Stephen’s advice!
148. Ventilation
Things slowly work themselves out. Jared didn’t realise he was expecting that, but he must have been, because it feels more like ‘of course things work out’, instead of ‘thank fuck things work out’, though he is grateful.
This is an Upper Case series, after all.
There’s another Canuck there, and Jared doesn’t know Brayden very well — he’s very much a Brayden — but it’s some familiarity, at least.
Jared continuing with his unreasonable anti-Braden/Brayden/Braeden (etc) sentiment.
Maybe he just missed getting out of the apartment, and anything would be a relief after sitting around listening to Bryce complain. He certainly never liked traffic before now. Well, he still doesn’t, but even the commute doesn’t really bother him, gives him a chance to sort through his head, shit that’s gotten tangled with the stress and constant Bryce exposure. Jared missed — himself, he guesses.
Jared is very much an introvert, and Bryce is one of the very few people who doesn’t actively drain his energy, but he still needs solitude to recharge. Which was a pretty easy thing to do when they were long-distance, and even living and playing together, but not so much when Bryce barely leaves the house except to see his doctors or his physiotherapist.
that’s way better than when they were limited to, like, ‘hey what did you think of the movie we just zoned out in front of’ or ‘what do you feel like for dinner? nothing, huh? don’t know why I bothered asking’ or ‘were you sulking again, or just napping?’.
The important questions.
Dmitry’s finally bugged Bryce into visiting. Jared’s been assured the Kurmazov children have been told to keep their hands to themselves. He’s sure they don’t, but Bryce somehow survives the affection of small children anyway. This time, at least.
They absolutely do not keep their hands to themselves, but they are actually touchingly gentle with him. Dmitry and Oksana are raising two good kids.
And if discussions with the docs went in one ear and out the other with Bryce, basically the opposite seems to happen with his physiotherapist. Jared would genuinely not be surprised if he found out Bryce’s new monologues are recited verbatim from his sessions. Jared's learning more about anatomy than he did in bio.
Hyperfocus is an incredible thing.
"No," Jared says. Not on purpose. But yes. "Um. Trapezius? Right? You were talking about—"
"You just named the first muscle you could think of," Bryce accuses him.
It was supraspinatus, which sounds NOTHING LIKE TRAPEZIUS, JARED.
it's great seeing Bryce happy about anything. He gets all enthusiastic about it, face lit up, so Jared finds himself getting distracted, missing the what Bryce is saying because he's busy watching Bryce's face, so animated by the subject, probably wearing a soppy as fuck expression as he does.
It is so fucking soppy.
I think I've become Bryce. Jared texts Julius while Bryce is on the phone with his mom, giving her the physio play-by-play. Anyone else Jared could text would just 'aww' and not appreciate the very mixed feelings Jared has right now. Or would say ‘eww’ but is a Matheson and therefore not an option.
Why must you make Julius listen to this. He does not want to know.
Does Bryce do that? Like, all the time? Does he just look at Jared's face and think thoughts that fond and mushy on a regular basis? Is that Bryce’s life?
Yes.
How dare he look at Jared like that. Has he met Jared? Jared isn’t endearing.
You have your moments.
I found myself staring at him like he was like idk the moon while he told me about his physio. Like the fucking heart eyes emoji. Some soppy shit.
gross Julius says.
I know. Jared replies. It's disgusting.
I'm not talking to you any more Julius says.
Jared does not blame him.
At least Julius can be honest about how little he wants to know about this without Jared taking any offence whatsoever (he too kind of wishes he didn’t know)
Jared’s car should probably stop chilling in his parents’ driveway eventually. Not that they need two cars right now, since Bryce isn’t allowed to drive, but mom’s threatening to invoke ‘finders keepers’, and Jared’s only 90% sure she’s kidding.
She would never, as that’s theft. She might get it towed, though. Her and Don have been swapping who has to deal with street parking, and it’s gotten old.
Erin’s up in Edmonton staying with a university friend
lol
dad uses Erin’s absence as an excuse to make absolutely everything she doesn’t like eating — AKA vegetables — most of which he pulls off with aplomb.
They only eat seafood when Jared’s absent, as well as recipes Don knows aren’t in Jared’s nutrition plan. Don’s biggest thing with cooking is other people enjoying the food, and planning ahead so he’s preparing a meal that everyone at the table can enjoy is honestly one of his favourite aspects of cooking. All Mathesons like planning. Even when they sometimes forget their plans due to hot headedness.
Everything has to be done exactly so, or it’s all going to fail, according to dad. And Jared’s with him when it comes to taking stuff out of the oven in time and shit, but weighing butter to make sure each stick was the same weight? Jared thinks that was maybe a step too far. Presumably they do all that at the butter factory.
You know Jared repeatedly said that last bit while Don scowled at him.
Dad gives him a plate of snacks to take out, tells him not to ruin his appetite — Jared is getting mixed signals here — and then Jared’s freed from the kitchen.
Share your snacks with your mom, Jared, that’s what it means.
“He’s a tyrant,” Jared says.
“I’ve stopped making anything but coffee and toast,” his mom says, nudging the plate of snacks closer to her. If she thinks she’s being subtle about it, she’s not.
She knows Don intended half those snacks for her, why should she be sneaky about it? Also Susan’s not going to lie: she doesn’t miss cooking whatsoever. Living the high life now.
“I can walk out of the room,” she says, like she’d leave the snacks.
Well, Jared guesses she could take the snacks with her. Or get more snacks. Dad would oblige, he’s sure, especially if she told him it was to mess with Jared.
They are a team. Especially when teamwork involves annoying their children.
Jared chews on ‘seeing him happy after he hasn’t been is like being repeatedly punched in the throat, but like, in a mostly good way, but also bad, you know?’. It’s too embarrassing to say.
You two are so gross. I love you.
Jared goes up to his old room, flips through a few pages of the old Flames calendar so he can grin at Bryce’s goofy game face.
GROSS. (ilu)
Bryce’s recitation of physio probably takes as long as physio did. Jared doesn’t mind, though when he comes downstairs his parents seem unimpressed, probably because dinner was supposed to be at least half an hour ago.
Probably. Also because, well…
did you seriously ghost your parents for two hours to talk to Bryce? Chaz has said in the group chat when Jared takes a break. shaaaame.
That.
Stop talking to Erin immediately. Jared replies.
lol Chaz replies.
lmao Ashley adds.
we’re not bj you can’t boss us around Chaz replies.
I don’t boss him around, Jared replies, and in response four people send four varieties of laughter at him. Raf keeps it simple with the crying laughing. Everyone else’s a little more elaborate. Jared would like to note that Bryce doesn’t laugh, because Jared does not boss him around.
Okay, he absolutely bosses him around, but people aren’t supposed to know that.
If you didn’t want them to know, you probably shouldn’t have repeatedly bossed Bryce around in FRONT of them, Jared.
“Are you in the group chat?” Jared asks. “Is everyone in the group chat but me? Do they just need a designated Matheson, and one is as good as the other?”
“Babe,” Bryce mumbles. “I’m trying to sleep.”
“I’m not stopping you,” Jared says.
Jared drove most of the way to Vancouver the previous day. Slept in a hotel. Woke up at the crack of dawn, drove the rest of the way. Got home. Stomped around. Huffed when it didn't wake Bryce. Sat on the end of the bed and stared until Bryce woke up. Loudly asked him if he was in the group chat. Then unironically said he wasn’t stopping Bryce from sleeping.
Jared looks away. “Whatever, it’s late. I’ve been up for hours. And I’ve been away for days, I thought you might be happy to see me. No ‘welcome home, babe’?”
It’s eight in the morning. Bryce went to bed past two after accidentally binging a show Jared would complain about incessantly about if forced to watch with him. Why are you doing this to him.
“The groupchat they’re in with Erin is for making fun of us,” Bryce says. “That’s what Ash said. So yeah, no.”
“What,” Jared says.
“Like, if we’re being mushy or something,” Bryce says. “They complain to each other.”
It’s less complaining and more commiserating. The group came together at Bryce and Jared’s wedding, when after the parents went to bed, and Bryce and Jared left (to fuck, which everyone decided to collectively ignore except Chaz ‘wolf whistle’ Rossi), they swapped ‘my poor eyes had to witness _____’ in which every example was mushy as fuck.
They made the group chat so they could keep each other updated with stuff like ‘Bryce has been gazing at Jared for five minutes straight, I don’t think he’s blinked once’ and, you know, ‘My mom just texted me to say Jared’s been on the phone with Bryce for two hours. They were supposed to eat half an hour ago’.
“Rude,” Jared says. “We’re not mushy.”
“J,” Bryce says.
Bryce will not let Jared live a lie.
“You don’t have a group chat with Erin, right?” Jared says.
“Um,” Bryce says. “Is two people a group chat?”
“No, that’s just texting,” Jared says.
Oh good because no fucking way is Bryce going to stop talking to Erin. That’s his sister.
“Then no,” Bryce says. “This is like Chaz and Raf knowing each other outside of you all over again, isn’t it.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jared says.
“Okay,” Bryce says, then wanders to the bathroom, stopping to kiss the top of Jared’s head on the way.
Wearing a soppy look the whole time.
“But seriously,” Jared says.
“I can’t hear you over the water,” Bryce yells. He doesn’t need to yell: they’ve got some fancy gentle rain shower shit, it’s not exactly loud.
Jared. Let the poor sleepy man shower.
“Nothing,” Jared says, and thumbs open a reply from his mom.
No I will not tell Erin to get her own friends.
You are absolutely ridiculous.
Man tattled to MOM.
“Useless,” Jared mutters.
“What?” Bryce yells.
“Nothing!” Jared says.
Bryce opens the shower door. “Are you muttering mean shit?”
“No,” Jared says, then, when Bryce looks doubtful, “Not about you.”
You were using your muttering mean shit voice, you think he doesn’t recognise that at this point? Even over the water?
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2023: I used to be with it, but then they changed what it was. Now what I’m with isn’t it anymore and what’s it seems weird and scary. It’ll happen to you!
I always interpreted the word “scary” in this quote in the sense that old people fear change. Not that an actively racist, sexist, homophobic, transphobic, authoritarian segment of our society would loudly gain power in all areas, including popular music. But here we are, it’s 2023!
**This is my ongoing series of trying to understand popular music by listening to the Billboard year end music chart for every year, so far 1996-2023.**
Also before I go too far in clutching my pearls, this is the Billboard music chart, not exactly an unimpeachable and incorruptible measure of the public will. But it’s annoying when an artist dominates the chart simply because some people think it’s a good thing, actually, that he used a racial slur.
This year was so tough to deal with that I ended up using the process of elimination. After removing five old Christmas standards and 17 songs that offended my every sensibility, I was left with 78 songs. Then I took out the songs that were simply silly. I already talked about “Bad Habit” and “Unholy” in the 2022 chart, so I removed those too. I don’t care for the sentiments being expressed in “Kill Bill” or “bad idea right?” so they’ll go next. I don’t like how they’re pronouncing “liar” in “Boy’s a liar Pt. 2.”
Also, why are we as a society still fucking with Drake?
Album of the Year: notwithstanding what I mentioned earlier, it’s SOS by SZA. Solid jams T to B. She also gets…
Song of the Year: “Snooze” by SZA. A shallow field this year, but try listening to this a few dozen times and I think you’ll agree it’s a jam.
“Anti-Hero” by Taylor Swift. Half of this is a really good song. I first heard it while shopping in a going-out-of-business Bed Bath and Beyond while trying to get used to being alone. It seemed appropriate, other than the part about anyone still being around to care.
“Fast Car” covered by Luke Combs. Someone whose opinion (especially in matters of music) I consider sacrosanct told me that they don’t care for any version of this song. I was floored. This is an ok cover; I don’t hate it. And if you’re worried that he destroys the queer reading, he refers to himself as working “in the market as a checkout girl.”
“Creepin’” by Metro Boomin, The Weeknd, and 21 Savage. Do I get points for instantly placing the generous sample of “Boadicea” by Enya? Something about the sample doesn’t seem to fit quite right rhythmically, but I’m no musician, so what do I know?
“golden hour” by JVKE. My sister played it for me on the piano and asked if I was familiar with it, so then I had to take it off my makeout playlist.
“Tennessee Orange” by Megan Moroney. “I met somebody. He’s got blue eyes.” Wink wink. I said WINK! WHAT I MEAN WHEN I SAY THAT IS THAT HE IS WHITE. BUT I’M BEING SUBTLE ABOUT IT. GET IT?!?! This wasn’t even one of the songs I thought was offensive. This is just run-of-the-mill for modern country music.
“Wait in the Truck” by HARDY with Lainey Wilson. What a nasty, empty-souled fantasy of vigilantism.
Country music barometer: 29%
Songs partially or completely in Spanish: 9%
Songs performed in English by South Korean artists: 2%
A music video from 2023 to include: Here’s “As it Was” by Harry Styles. I really like the spinning platform. I give the same grace to Harry Styles that I give to all the pop girlies. It’s fine. They’re fine. Frankly, it’s kind of nice when compared to our other options this year.
https://youtu.be/H5v3kku4y6Q?si=yH00pTg6KVPtDVGf
youtube
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Save me (Kageyama Version)
Premise: Friendship is a fragile thing. Keeping you safe was his priority for the longest time, but overcoming hardships along someone you hold dear form irreplaceable, indestructible bonds, and a childhood friend can easily become the love of your life; or so that was for Kageyama Tobio.
Word count: 3286
Note: Welcome to the final route for this series! If you’re new to the series, in order to understand what’s going on chapter 0 (link here) is very important, also Semi’s chapter 1 is the original set up for the current timeline so I would advise you to read that one first as well (link here), if you haven't yet. With that out of the way, let’s all scream together because Kags is finally here~ 🙊
Chapter 1: First Love
Kageyama Tobio had always been alone, ever since he was a child, his only friends were members of his own family. His overwhelming talent made his personality take a sudden turn for the worse when facing rejection by his fellow volleyball teammates.
He always knew he had talent and had been groomed since a young age by his even more talented grandfather to be at the top of the volleyball industry. He came to this world to be a setter and the people around him knew this, building an impenetrable barrier around him.
When he arrived at Kitagawa Daiichi that barrier just kept growing steeper. He knew he was at fault, he didn’t know how to make friends, how to be gentler, all he’s ever got from other people has been rejection, mistreatment, spiteful words, so that was all he knew how to give back.
Kitagawa Daiichi came with many downsides, but also brought an unexpected light to his life which he thought was completely out of his reach for the longest time.
His captain was the worse type of human being to ever exist. He felt threatened ever since his arrival to the team as they shared the same position, and he was clearly better at it, making his life miserable on purpose. Oikawa’s personality was the complete opposite to what he was, as annoying as one can be, but everybody seemed to love him regardless and he had something he could never aspire to get, you.
Being deep into volleyball since he was very young, this was the first time he developed some sort of interest for the opposite sex. You were the only person in the entire school who wasn’t mean to him, you weren’t scared of being a target for his hateful words, never annoyed by it either. Always worried about his well being, constantly nagging at the others for their comments and taking offense in his behalf. It felt weird having someone worry over him and at first it was nothing but a nuisance to him, he would always ignore you, wave away your smiles with disinterest. You shinned too bright for his taste and he didn’t know how to handle it.
He would say you were as annoying as your boyfriend was, but in reality, he was just lying to himself like he usually did when he wanted to run away from his problems. He didn’t want to see you in a better light because you fraternized with the enemy, someone willing to date Oikawa was definitely not worthy of his time.
But you kept on insisting, would just sit beside him without making any noise, all you wanted was to be there for him, if he wanted silence, that’s what he’d get. Companionship didn’t feel as bad as he thought it would and he started to look forward to the short moments he would share with you during practice. There was something about the way you looked at him so openly, there were no lies, no bad intentions, your presence was soothing and so, he stopped avoiding you all together.
Friendships aren’t easy to build, but you were the one putting in all the hard work, the least he could do was reply back to you when you felt like talking to him, stop pushing you away, and that did the trick.
When he saw Oikawa’s true colors for the first time a hole grew in his stomach. He couldn’t fathom someone could treat you the way he did. You had nothing but good intentions in life, your heart was full of love, you were a rare type of human, he’d never seen someone like you before, definitely didn’t deserve such a treatment especially not from someone who was supposed to love you.
He didn’t know there was a side to himself willing to protect someone, all he cared about was himself and volleyball, but somehow, wanting to protect you came out of him naturally and feeling your warmth against his chest the day everything blew up was a game changer for him. He could feel you tremble in fear, but he could also feel the way your body relaxed against his when you noticed he was there. The skin of your wrist was red and swollen, your face devoid of all color, making him realize Oikawa was indeed a piece of shit with everyone, not just to him, he sees that now and made him question your decisions, he wouldn’t even respect the only person around who truly deserved that respect, and suddenly he wished Oikawa would just go away for good without leaving a trace.
Days after that became dull. Oikawa stole his everyday happiness, the peaceful moments he shared with you in a secluded bench in the gym, the light banter that always led to your soft giggles. He lost it all just because your boyfriend saw you and him sharing some milk. It was his doing, he caused this, that’s why he wanted to leave in the first place and let you sulk without your lactose dose of the day, but he didn’t, he couldn’t resist the look of despair in your eyes, even if that meant cutting down his own intake of goodness. It was a silly simple action but ended up drifting you two apart, souring his mood for the entire rest of the year.
But when Oikawa finally left for high school, air came back into his lungs.
The very first day of your last year in Kitagawa Daiichi, the first thing you did was wait for him by the school gate. The smile you gave him once you finally saw him coming was like no other thing he’s seen before. Your eyes were twinkling in the morning light, your cheeks rosy with excitement, your hair had grown a bit over the winter break and you changed your hairstyle, somehow you looked more relaxed, it showed on your face. “Kageyama-kun! How have you been? I went to visit some friends in Tokyo over the weekend and they had this limited-edition milk, it made me think of you, so I got us two! Let’s try it in the lunch break, ok?” that’s right, he was gone, he could actually talk to you again.
“You really know how to get someone’s attention, don’t you?” chuckling, you laced your arm around his while you went inside the school building. It felt so freeing to the both of you not having to watch over your backs every single minute, not having to watch your words anymore. “See you at lunch then, T.O.B.I.O-kun~” you left him behind, running over to your classroom in a fit of crazy giggles, like if he was going to chase you around just for calling him by his first name, which of course he didn’t, though, it made him smile.
Lunch was fun, even if you stole one of his sausages. The weird milk you brought from Tokyo tasted like cough syrup, but it was so horrible that it just made everything better. He’s always eaten lunch by himself somewhere hidden from the rest, searching for a peaceful quiet moment, but you made lunch period fun, it was a good kind of different.
He thought about walking you home, you both lived in the same direction anyways, and your bashful smile when he suggested it made his chest feel a bit tight. Though, the giddiness in the air didn’t last long, as soon as you both came out of the school together a large angry hand stopped you from walking any further. “You seriously need to stay the fuck away from my girlfriend, Tobio-chan. Is it that difficult to understand that she’s already taken? That you aren’t welcomed here? Did mommy not teach you not to touch what’s not yours?” he thought he was gone for good and you never expected him to actually come and pick you up, his high school was pretty out of the way, it was absolutely not necessary for him to do so, but he didn’t trust you, didn’t trust the look in Kageyama’s eyes when you were around. “Don’t be like this, Toru. We were just headed in the same direction that’s all. Come on let’s go. We’ll get going now, Tobio-kun. See you around.” the sad smile on your face made him want to punch this man and his smug annoying face out of this world, you looked clearly bothered and uncomfortable, your wrist once again red and swollen. He thinks of how bright and how full of life your face was this morning and saw nothing left. This relationship was clearly taking a toll on you and he just didn’t know what to do to help or if it help was even welcomed.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Kageyama thought you’d be scared of Oikawa’s recurring behavior, he thought you’d stop talking to him once again, but you proved him wrong when he saw you waiting for him by the school gates like the previous day.
He’d never had a true friend before, so he was unsure if that’s how friendships worked, all he knew was that he wanted to continue with whatever that was for as long as it lasted, he wanted to continue being the source of your giggles, being the one to make you feel at ease and comfortable, the one you look for, not hide from. And so, it all began its natural course.
With you, not every day was a happy day, and he was well aware of that before even getting this close.
For some reason you couldn’t hide from him your sadness, your fear. He always knew when something was off. As the year went on, the off days were more than the good ones and all he could do was to be there for you. He wanted to do more, to kidnap you and take you away from this pain that hunted you. He wanted to make you understand what you were doing for Oikawa out of compassion was ruining your own life. He wanted to see you laugh more, to be carefree again. But you continued pushing your fears away and focused on your time together, you loved helping him practice during breaks, the exercise and his company almost made you forget the unpleasant life you were having.
That day you took a punch for him was more than a revelation for Kageyama. He wanted to officially have the roll to protect you, not only from this man, but from harm in general. The pained look on your face, the lack of strength on your legs that could barely support your own weight, you were such a kind loving person, seeing you so broken made him so angry he could barely contain himself.
Knowing you would finally leave Oikawa for good and attend Shiratorizawa brought excitement to his heart, finally, you would be free. You would be able to smile, he would be able to take you home, go out together on the weekends, share some ice cream, who knows maybe even hold hands, or so he thought, since he didn’t see you again in school after that and your phone number had been cancelled before he got the courage to give you a call.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
He did his best to get admitted in Shiratorizawa, even asked his sister to help him study. Originally he wanted to make his grandfather proud, but now most of all, he wanted to see you again.
Sisters are a pain. His study sessions turned into questioning, his sister was very much intrigued by this friend of his and used her help as bargain chip to squeeze information out of the poor boy. That day he learned friends don’t have this many feelings for each other and she ran around the house professing his undying love, earning her a ball to the face.
But she wasn’t entirely wrong.
He missed you. That wasn’t normal for him, but he thought it was because you were a very important friend and that was it, until he just couldn’t sleep at night thinking about the silliest of things, like that one time milk came out of your nose and he had to clean your face while you couldn’t stop laughing, how you would bury your face on his arm when you didn’t want him to see you cry, how short your skirt was in summer and how he was able to see that cute lil mole you had on one of your legs that you claimed didn’t even know of its existence, how you would always wait for him with a smile on your face even when you had an awful fight with his nemesis.
His sister was definitely not wrong.
The way his chest felt tight whenever you were sad, whenever you would get too close to his face, whenever you would cover his scraps with band-aids, whenever you smiled just for him to see.
At first, he thought it was annoyance, he thought he hated all these things, girls had always been overly attentive with him for some reason, and he’s hated their guts since the very beginning. But he caught himself smiling back one day and realized he didn’t hate it as much if it was you. He even kept one of your carebears band-aids in his desk’s drawer, always saying he would throw it away another day. Truth is, every time he sees it his chest feels full and that was a nice feeling, so it will probably live in his drawer for the rest of his days.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Going to Karasuno wasn’t a choice but a last resort option. He didn’t want to go to Seijoh that was a fact, so the closest second school to his house happened to be Karasuno and seemed like they had a volleyball club too. Anything was better than fighting Oikawa again for his position in the team.
It wasn’t his first choice, he hated himself for not being able to get in Shiratorizawa, but he found out quickly that Karasuno wasn’t as bad as he thought it would be.
It took some time, but he finally felt like part of a team and that was something he’s been searching for, for years.
The first time he faced Oikawa again he noticed the lack of you in the audience. He knew you said it was over, that you wouldn’t be with him again. But you had said that before many times, and he always ended up breaking you into accepting him back. He wanted to believe this time was true, but he had his doubts. Not seeing you there cheering for him was a good sign, making something resembling hope to bloom in his chest.
Time went by and he thought of ways to approach Shiratorizawa without being pegged as a creep, it wasn’t easy. He went a couple of times as far as he could get without being noticed and there was just no sign of you. Waiting at the gates would be just weird and would draw too much attention, sadly he didn’t know anybody at the school so getting someone to call you over was also not ideal for him, causing all his attempts to fail. The only option left was to win his way over to Shiratorizawa in the tournament, maybe he would get to see you there or at least could ask around.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
Semi was going through some of the videos the coach had sent for them to analyze Karasuno and create some tactics, when you plopped down beside him, handing him his lunch. You made a sandwich for yourself, but you ended up buying too much bread, the most viable option being sharing it with your friend as usual. “So, what you doing?” you leaned over so he could share his screen with you, while chewing on some lettuce. “If you may know, rabbit girl, we are playing against these guys next, so we gotta watch them play and learn all their tricks.”
“So that’s how you always win then, you cheat.” laughing at Semi’s unimpressed face, you choked on your lettuce at a single shot of very shinny looking black hair. “EITA! Go back, go back!!”
“Go back where?” you snatched his phone away, doing it yourself, “OH my GOD, I knew it! I would recognize that hair anywhere. You’re playing against my Tobio? You doomed, babeh.” getting his phone back, he stares at the guy in question. He was indeed pretty good, was the only known threat in the list, but was always seen yelling at others and with a permanent scowl on his face, not what he was expecting him to be from the way you talk about him like he was some sort of soft angel. But you liked prickly guys, you were his best friend after all and he was definitely a sourpuss.
“Meh, he looks ok. Not as scary as the Miya twins, which we might have to face if we win against Karasuno. Nothing Ushijima can’t take down.” Hearts were coming out of your eyes while staring at his screen, it’s been so long since you’ve seen him. He looks way taller now, his face slimmer, he’s starting to look like a man, you’ve always thought he was cute, but cute didn’t quite make the cut anymore, he was hot.
“You are looking at him like he was a piece of meat on a grill, (Y/N). Have some self-respect will you, disgusting.” that made you laugh, but you wanted to watch the rest of the game, you could at least live vicariously through it and pretend you actually knew something about his current life. His teammates all looked like good people, they seemed to get along, it made you feel fuzzy inside, if that was true then you were happy for him, of course Shiratorizawa would have been a better fit for him, but Karasuno wasn’t half bad, they made him shine like the star he is.
“Can you send me the video?” grabby hands and puppy eyes were not enough to sway Semi, you knew this but at least you had to try, “You disgust me, but whatever, I’ll send it to you. BUT with one condition. You gotta promise you will go watch the match. That way you can practice going out on your own and you also get to see your eye candy boy again. Deal?” even after practicing with Semi, going out on your own was a terrifying thought, but you wanted to see Tobio and also cheer for your friends, you even promised Ushijima you would go watch one of their matches soon. “Deal.”
It would be scary, but it was a step in the right direction. You would be lying if you said your heart didn’t just skip a beat at the thought of seeing Tobio again, it was worth it.
•───────•°•❀•°•───────•
“Oh my GOD. Is that a girl?????” Hinata stole Kageyama’s phone running around the entire gym trying not to get caught. “Give me back my phone you imbecile.”
“What’s going on here? Stop acting like kindergarten kids.” Daichi took Kageyama’s phone away from Hinata and handed it over to its rightful owner, not before taking a peek first. His Lock Screen had in fact a picture of a girl laying her head on Kageyama’s shoulder with a dopey smile and dreamy eyes, he was right.
Kageyama had changed his phone background for the only picture he had of the two of you together, seemingly preparing for the match. He wanted to have it in hand so he could ask around Shiratorizawa, all he was thinking about was on ways to get to you, didn’t think his team would see it and make fun of him.
“She’s really pretty, though. Do you know her? She looks older.”
“Can’t say I do. Stop stealing Kageyama’s belongings, I won’t be able to stop him for long if you keep on acting like that.” Kageyama kept on mumbling to himself while hiding his phone in his pocket, a slight tinge of red peeking through his shirt to the back of his neck.
“Maybe he stole the picture from the internet and edited himself into it. He would never be able to get such a cute girl.” Tsukishima could be heard snickering on the background, setting his nerves ablaze, “Shup up, moron. Like you could even get another human to breathe the same air as you.”
Once again Daichi had to go in between them, dragging the smallest load out of the gym with him. If there was one thing he didn’t expect from Kageyama was girl problems, he thought he would be able to graduate in peace before the younglings entered that problematic phase.
But he was wrong.
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Tagged babes: @dazaisfavgf @lauraagrace @san-emi
Masterlist
#haikyuu!!#haikyu imagines#haikyuu fanfiction#haikyuu fluff#haikyuu x y/n#slow burn#haikyuu x reader#angst#fluff#haikyuu x you#haikyuu x f!reader#haikyu x reader#kageyama tobio#kageyama x reader#kageyama x y/n#kageyama x you#karasuno
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Brain Curd #81
Brain Curds are lightly edited flash fiction - practically first drafts - posted daily and sometimes written with the express intention of being terrible… but, you know, in an endearing way. Please enjoy.
Read the rest of The Frank Program here on Tumblr!
“Ladies and gentlemen, this is The Frank Program! According to these here anal-lickits, most of y’all out there are more the gentlemen type than the lady type, so to attract more of the feminine persuasion, I’m happy to announce today’s guest: ‘heart-throb’ comedian, James Siegfried! Welcome to the show, sir.”
Siegfried smirked and leaned into the microphone. “Thank you so much for having me. I just flew in from Florida, and boy are my arms tired!”
A laugh track emanated from the corner of the room. Daryl held a box with several buttons on it, the first of which he had just pressed.
“Daryl,” Frank growled, “What the hell are you doing over there?”
“It’s okay, Frank, it’s okay. I asked him to do that. Laughter makes me more comfortable.”
“Ah, I get it,” Frank said. “From your time in that sitcom way back when.”
“Exactly. It helps me get into the flow. The sad thing is, nowadays I need that little machine even when I do stand-up.”
“People aren’t laughing?”
“People aren’t laughing. They’re afraid to laugh because nowadays, you can’t joke about anything without being called awful, vile, things by people with no social lives who spend all their time on the internet.”
“And that stops you from making jokes?”
“Of course not! I’m not afraid of them. But I am afraid of what it’s doing to my art form. Other comedians cave in and crack jokes that make people laugh. I refuse to stoop so low.”
Frank gave Sigfried a military salute. “You’re doin’ God’s work, son.”
“I’m telling you, my joke about the Queen being a transvestite would have killed in the nineties. In fact, that’s when I wrote it.”
The laugh track played.
Siegfried looked at Daryl, annoyed. “That wasn’t a joke.”
“Now, I’ve got a quick question for you…” Frank picked up one of about a dozen boxes of Toaster Turnovers from the table. “What’s with all the frozen breakfast food? Marketing deal?”
“No, not at all, they’re not paying me a dime.”
“So you paid for all these?”
He shrugged. “I like them.”
Daryl interjected. “We have a freezer in the back room, if you don’t want ‘em going bad.”
Frank frowned. “Shut the hell up, Daryl.”
Prerecorded booing played from Daryl’s corner.
“Anyway,” Siegfried continued. “My new comedy movie, which is in theaters now, is about the invention of these little treats! It touches on other snacks too. Plus a lot of breakfast cereal, which I’ve always been a big fan of.”
“With all due respect, Mr. Siegfried, that sounds like a commercial.”
“No, no, no, we didn’t get permission from the company to make the film. It’s not a commercial. It’s satire.”
“Fascinatin’. So you make fun of their products?”
“Not really. Everyone likes their products. More of the humor comes from ‘what-ifs’ - like, if they made bran cereal without the raisins, or unfrosted flakes - or if the slogan for orange juice was some kind of sexual innuendo.”
“They do make those things,” Daryl said.
“Those are just examples. There’s a subtlety to the humor, and an intelligence to it, and I think that’s why a lot of people don’t get the joke.”
“It sure doesn’t sound offensive to me,” Frank said. “Are people these days really so sensitive?
“Don’t worry, Frank, we didn’t forget to push boundaries. There are at least three jokes about fruit.”
“Fruit?”
“You know, the queers. The gays. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, but they need to learn to laugh at themselves.”
The laugh track played.
Siegfried turned to look at Daryl. “Can you really not tell when I’m making a joke? That was not a joke.”
“You say everything like it’s a joke. I thought maybe that was why people laughed at you?”
Siegfried sighed and took a box of Toaster Turnovers from the table. “I’m taking a break.”
Daryl played the ‘awww’ sound as the door slammed.
Frank huffed. “Well, that’s just great. He went out the door to the parking lot. Thanks a lot, Daryl.”
He played the applause sound.
“I’m gonna smash that thing. Anyway, folks, since it doesn’t look like our guest is coming back, this has been The Frank Program. Thank you for letting me be Frank with you.” He took off his headphones and threw them to the ground. “Get over here Daryl! Goddamn it! Every fucking day with you! I swear to the God you don’t believe in, I brought you into this world and I can take you -”
#NSC Original#brain curd#brain curds#writing#creative writing#writeblr#flash fiction#author#writer things#writers#writers on tumblr#writers of tumblr#writerscommunity#women writers#female writers#queer writers#The Frank Program#Frank#Daryl#James Siegfried#standup comedy#standup comic#you know exactly who we're making fun of in this one#The Frank Program Ep 4
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For this WIP Wednesday, I decided to send some more love to Wei Wuxian because. He deserves all the love. And in another news, I now have an actual title \o/
Presenting a snippet of my time travel Wen!Wei Wuxian:
We'll Build a Dynasty the Heavens Can't Shake
(we'll build a dynasty for short)
--
When he comes back with the new pot of tea, Wen Qing and Wei Wuxian have stopped debating and are instead back to writing down notes in silence. Rather, near silence, as Wen Ning discovers when he comes closer. Wei Wuxian is humming a slow and soft tune under his breaths.
“What a pretty song…” Wen Ning says and Wei Wuxian beams at him.
“It really is, isn’t it? I wish I could remember where I heard it… It sounds so good—”
“It’s the song Lan Wangji sang to you when you were both stuck in that cave and you were delirious with fever.” Wen Qing interrupts. Wei Wuxian gapes at her.
“Wait really? Lan Zhan sang me a song? Wait, I think I do remember asking him to but… To think he actually did… Aiyah, I feel bad now, to think I forgot about it all!”
“You were barely conscious. It’s a wonder you remember it well enough to sing it correctly." Wen Qing retorts with a raised brow, “do remember that for all your cultivation prowess you are only human.”
“It’s only a song, it isn’t that hard! And people always complain I have a terrible memory!” Wei Wuxian slaps his thighs as he laughs. Wen Qing rolls her eyes.
“You don’t, you simply choose to remember what’s important which is something more people should do. Forgiving silly grievances would go a long way if people would stop remembering every little offenses against them.”
“Are you saying Jin Zixuan’s bully of a cousin wasn’t important?” Wei Wuxian says, laughing even harder before he stops with a dramatic gasp. “Wait, what was his name again?”
“He wishes he were and I wish I had your talent to forget pompous idiots like him.” She rolls her eyes again, annoyed once more, “honestly, what a little vermin. Once we’re done with my uncle, please tell me we’ll put him in his place.”
“We’re trying to avoid a w-war, aren’t we,” Wen Ning intervenes before his sister decides being like Wen Ruohan isn’t actually that bad and starts planning to take over the entire cultivation world. “And you just said we needed to forgive and forget…”
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Mandomera Week 2022: Day#5 - Possessive
A day late with this one, but it’s extra long! Delving again in the NSFW prompts while not making it NSFW at all (sorry about that again). Hope you’re still having fun with this Mandomera week!
You can read below or on ao3.
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“There’s someone new at the village,” Winta told him brightly just after they’d arrived with Grogu. She’d been the first to greet them, as was her custom, and his little boy immediately jumped into her arms with a happy coo.
“Everybody seems to like him, he’s Stoke’s cousin or something, but I think he’s a bit strange,” the girl carried on as they made their way to the village.
“Strange how?” Din asked, already on his guard. He hadn’t visited for a few months and he’d never liked surprises. It would be just his luck for a dangerous stranger to show up in the peaceful village, though he had to remind himself he’d been that person once, too.
But this was different.
“I don’t know, he’s always extra cheerful,” she said, and Din wondered how cheerful that person had to be for Winta of all people to take offense. That sounded pretty harmless. “And he’s always trying to talk to mom and I think she finds it a bit annoying.”
No, this wasn’t harmless at all, and Din resisted the urge to use the jetpack to get to the village faster.
“What’s his name?” he wondered through gritted teeth.
“Jeff.”
Din quickly realized that this Jeff was a nightmare. He was handsome, he was chatty, and everybody wanted his attention. But the one person whose attention he wanted the most, Omera, was proving to be not too receptive to his winning attitude.
“Is he bothering you?” Din felt bound to ask her that very evening, after he’d observed him following her around all afternoon as she was working.
“I can handle him, he’s inoffensive,” she replied, unbothered.
It was in those moments that he wished he’d found the courage to remove his helmet in public. This was still strictly limited to Omera’s hut, and only her and Winta had seen his face. He was getting there, though. And he hoped it would make things easier for Omera, too, since they’d both decided they didn’t need to advertise their relationship either since it was no one’s business – Omera had told him repeatedly that everybody already knew anyway.
“Come to bed,” she urged him later still, aware that he’d been unable to shift this Jeff from his thoughts but with a clear goal in her mind to remedy the situation – and she proved absolutely right.
Up until the next morning.
“So, you’re the Mandalorian?”
Din looked up from his task, feeding Grogu his breakfast on Omera’s porch, because the boy had woken up absurdly early and he didn’t want to bother the other occupants who were still sleeping inside.
“Yes,” he replied simply, and wondered why he had even bothered to answer – wasn’t that obvious enough?
“People here have a lot to say about you,” Jeff carried on, and this time Din stayed silent. Maybe the man would realize he was hoping for a quiet moment with his son. And also the opportunity to drink his caf in peace.
“They all really love you,” he said, in a tone he couldn’t decipher. Was he imagining the jealousy he detected there? Probably. Omera had almost managed to convince him that he shouldn’t pay attention to him or feel threatened.
“So you’re staying at Omera’s while you’re here? Do you visit often?”
Almost.
“Yes,” he said again, just about preventing a long suffering sigh from escaping him.
“Bwah bah da!” Grogu added, which was indeed a great point, and Din handed him some more bread.
“It’s too bad you can’t take off that helmet, it’s going to be a beautiful day, I can tell. A scorcher really!” Jeff pointed out, looking at the already bright blue sky. Din felt tempted to remark that he certainly hadn’t been wearing his helmet earlier when he’d left Omera’s bed, but he didn’t want to resort to such crass tactics.
No, the silent treatment was better.
“So what do you usually do when you come here, do you just visit?”
“Mmh,” Din replied noncommitally. Could he just leave him alone already?
“I used to come here as a child, but I’m thinking of settling down permanently, it’s just so peaceful, don’t you think?”
Din handed Grogu some more bread with dried fruits – that child was having a very big breakfast.
“I haven’t decided yet, but it certainly has a lot to offer, and the people are just so nice. It’s a wonderful place to raise a family.”
Had he remembered to replace the fuel in his flame-thrower before he left the ship yesterday? He usually didn’t need it here, but there could be exceptions.
“So how well do you know Omera? Some people here seem to be implying that you’re…” but he didn’t finish.
“That we’re what?” Din pressed.
“Well, that’s none of my business, really.”
It really wasn’t.
“Boo, patu!” interrupted Grogu.
“He wants to go play, I’ll leave you to it,” Din said, standing up. Who knew what the child had meant, but this was too good an opportunity to miss. Jeff nodded, even if he clearly hadn’t been done with their conversation, and Din breathed a sigh of relief once he was back inside Omera’s hut.
Maybe he should try to talk to Stoke, and convince him Sorgan was not such a great place for his cousin to settle down. Or maybe he should just leave it alone, it wasn’t his business either. Who was he to dictate anyone’s actions? Especially when he was just a visitor, here. A regular one, yes, but even in Omera’s case, maybe she wouldn’t mind more stability, maybe someone like Jeff was exactly –
“Don’t tell me you’re still brooding over Stoke’s cousin,” Omera sighed when she arrived in the kitchen to pour herself a cup of caf. Din had been sitting very still at the table, observing Grogu as he studiously stacked wooden blocks in front of him. Was he really that transparent?
“Why do you think he wants to settle down in Sorgan?” he asked.
“I don’t know, it’s a nice place, isn’t it? What’s not to like?” she shrugged, sitting down in front of him and obviously not completely awake yet.
“Don’t you think he has any ulterior motive?”
“Like what?”
“Like…” but very much like Jeff earlier, he couldn’t finish his sentence.
“Din,” Omera replied patiently, “he’s been chatting up all the single women in the village, not just me. He’s really not that hard to figure out.”
“Do you consider yourself single then?”
“No, who said I was?”
“You just said – ”
“Good morning!” Winta beamed, and Grogu immediately perked up at the sound of the girl’s voice, discarding his game.
Omera and Din stared at each other and silently agreed that they should pick up that conversation again later.
Din was distracted for the rest of the day, and kept wondering what he should do. Maybe Omera wanted something else. Maybe he should do the right thing and let her get on with her life. But he did want to commit to her. It was her or no one else. Would she be okay with that kind of life, though? Sure, he hoped that one day he could offer her more, but would that ever be enough?
He mechanically went through the motions and helped out the krill farmers, loading heavy baskets under the hot sun. Jeff had been right – it was a scorcher, but he was used to work in uncomfortable conditions with his armor. Still, that didn’t mean he wished he could –
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” murmured Omera as she handed him yet another basket.
Exclamations had risen around them and Din quickly realized what had prompted them – Jeff had decided that since it was such a hot day, it meant it was okay to take his top off while he worked. His smooth, unblemished skin and lean figure had already earned him a few keen looks from women and men alike. Din rolled his eyes behind his visor and gritted his teeth – this was silly behavior, he wouldn’t rise to the challenge or even make any remark. Ignore him, that was the best strategy. And possibly have a glass of spotchka or five that evening. He grumbled and went back to work.
“Please don’t tell me you’re contemplating parading half naked just to prove a point,” Omera whispered a few minutes later, standing close to him.
“I’m not,” he replied, piling baskets with a little more force than necessary.
“Good, I don’t feel like sharing,” she said with a teasing smile, before moving to the next pond. Din squared his shoulders and immediately felt better about his scarred skin and beefy arms.
Sadly, his confidence didn’t last, and when he returned late that afternoon from taking Grogu and Winta for a well-deserved soak at the lake to give Omera an equally well-deserved break, she greeted him with the words he’d dreaded to hear since he arrived.
“Jeff invited me to have dinner with him this evening.”
“And you said…”
“No, of course!” she quickly replied, surprised. “Why would I accept such a proposal?”
Din shrugged, unable to come up with a valid answer, and Omera frowned some more. Soon, the children grabbed their attention, and they forgot about the very serious conversation they needed to have for a while. If it had been up to Din only, he would have gladly ignored it, but since Omera was far more pragmatic and comfortable with speaking her mind, this time she said the words he’d dreaded to hear ever since he returned to Sorgan.
“We need to talk.”
The kids were in bed, and he had no other distraction at the ready – he couldn’t very well refuse.
“Sure,” he agreed, schooling his features to appear unconcerned. It was such a struggle sometimes to not have his helmet to hide behind. But in this case, it actually proved helpful, since it allowed Omera to see how nervous he was, which was a rare occurrence.
“What’s really been bothering you?” she wondered, sitting next to him on the cushions. Din took his time pouring her a glass of spotchka, which she gladly accepted. But he still hadn’t managed to put his answer into words she would understand. Instead, he resorted to bluntness, which had always been the way he dealt with stressful situations in the past.
“Do you want to get married?”
“Right now?”
“Soon?”
“I don’t know,” she replied, thinking over her answer calmly, which amazed Din. “I’ve already been married once, I’m not sure I want to do it again, at least not for a while.”
“So what would you want instead?”
“From what?”
“From…me? Us?” he replied over the lump in his throat as his stomach also turned into knots.
Omera sipped her spotchka and looked around the room. She seemed utterly confident and untroubled by the very serious turn of their conversation. A conversation she had asked for, after all.
“Do you think I should get married? Do you think having a husband would make my life and Winta’s life better or easier?”
“You seem to be coping just fine,” he acknowledged, wondering where she was taking this.
“I think so too,” she agreed. “Would you want that for me, then? A husband? Living here with me and Winta all day, every day?”
“Well, it would mean I probably couldn’t visit anymore,” he smiled.
“That would make things a bit awkward, yes,” Omera nodded, smiling as well. She put her empty glass on the table and took his hands in hers.
“I don’t need a husband, Din,” she told him pointedly, looking straight into his eyes. “But if I ever want one, it would be you, and no one else.”
“So you don’t consider yourself single,” he made sure.
“Absolutely not, my heart is very much taken.”
Din closed his eyes briefly – her words filled him with joy and longing.
“And you don’t mind that I only visit every once in a while?”
“Like I said, I don’t need a husband. But I’d love it if you visited more.”
“I can do that,” he agreed. Yes, he could definitely do that. And he knew Grogu would also be in favor of more trips to Sorgan.
“So can we please not mention Jeff again tonight and have another glass of spotchka instead? Then go to bed?”
“Yes,” Din said.
The next day, he made an important decision, one he’d wanted to make for a long time – he’d only been missing a little push, one Omera had unwittingly provided when she’d confided her heart belonged to him. Which meant he also belonged there, even if he didn’t live on Sorgan all the time. He was home, so he’d better start behaving like he did.
“I told you he would be extremely handsome,” he heard someone whisper as he walked past to reach the next pond. “Omera is one very luck woman.”
Din paid no attention to all the other whispers after that – and there were many. But that was okay, the novelty would wear off after a couple of days, and it was decidedly more comfortable to harvest krill without his helmet or armor. He didn’t even have to resort to removing his shirt, which was definitely a plus. No, that hadn’t been necessary to captivate everybody’s attention for a while. That and making sure no one was caring about Jeff anymore.
#the mandalorian#din djarin#omera#mandomera#mandomeraweek2022#sorgan#winta#grogu#jeff#star wars#writing prompt#my fics
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unprompted ask / always accepting
@distopea said: Lost in her thoughts for a second, she eventually looked back at him, caught off guard for a second. Sybille offered a rather quiet smile, for once, before she eventually sat by his side and gripped her glass. Tonight, she wouldn't attempt touching him at all. "Pretend? Why do you think that?" She asked, even if she knew what he was perhaps referring to. She felt vulnerable sometimes, but that wasn't something she liked to expose either.
"We do. But..." She was tired of Sybille, she wanted to say. She wasn't protecting her the way she should; at least that was what the blond thought. It was hard to tell if there still was this barrier between her language and the cultural codes she didn't understand. She knew that she was relying more on her own capacities to get away from danger - which was a failure, but she didn't wish to say it either. "I think it's complicated sometimes. I still need to learn more Japanese." She just shrugged and leaned against the backrest of the booth.
"I honestly don't know what the reputation is." She admitted and glanced at the people around. "We have a lot of clients, but is it classy? I guess so." She felt sad tonight, but she eventually pushed those negative emotions aside. "I mean... I think it's very classy. We have people like you, after all. Good clients and generous, always polite and respectful." She could forget he didn't like it when she was slurring. She preferred not to annoy him right now.
did he seriously need to answer that, or did she take him for a fool who wouldn’t notice? his stare would go back to her, before it focused on her drink which remained untouched. with the way that she was holding onto it, ryo had a feeling that she didn’t intend to drink it, but use it as a distraction to whatever was going on through her hair. when she failed to take a sip from it, his hand intruded—taking it away from her grip & placing it next to his own. he didn’t need her to join him each time, especially knowing it wasn’t for everyone. it wasn’t for him tonight either.
“if your japanese was the issue, i doubt they would’ve kept you around, or they’d have you serve instead to other foreigns.” after all, those kinds of clubs had become more of a thing as of late, spotting a few here & there. they stood out because of the girls’ appearance, & while some men criticised them for their looks, there were plenty ( including those that dissed them ) that went to such places hoping for a more straight-forward approach. cultural differences would remain—there was no doubt in that, but even then, he hadn’t found her to be that offensive ( when she didn’t drag other girls ), to warrant such comments like the ones made by those men.
ryo was far from the talkative type, but he was insightful. this... display of self-pity didn’t go unnoticed, even if she was attempting to play it off as every other night. he could tell that she was acting different. not as obnoxious as when she tried too hard to get his attention. “it’s as classy as a brothel.” he added, which wasn’t much in his opinion, but still nothing worth criticising. he was here, after all. willingly or not, & his brothers sure favoured these kinds of places over brothels, even if the outcome could be the same. it was no secret that the hostesses of this establishment did more than just hosting, but that wasn’t neither here nor there. he’d have thought that anyone doing this for a living would have a tougher skin.
“having clients like myself or my brothers doesn’t take away from the rotten ones.” referring to those men who remained here, after all. men who would still probably sleep with her despite their comments. those men had no honour. “it takes one bad egg to ruin an omelette. i would call attention to that to your mama, if i were you.”
#distopea#.ic / way too many people tryna take the crown#.ask / never have any regrets after the game#verse 01. theory of beauty / main
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Normal type, dark type and psychic type for Portia ? :)
Thanks for asking about Portia, I love her and she’s severely underappreciated. Now get ready, because I have a bad habit of writing a lot.
🖤Normal Type🖤 : What do you and your F/O do on an average day?
Well, there are many versions of what an average day could be, depending on a timeline. Let’s take a completely average day in the palace, after the epilogue, when Portia and Katerina are not somewhere on another adventure.
Considering that Portia got promoted to Vesuvia’s emissary, it means that she will probably no longer have to be responsible for assisting the countess or managing the staff. She will probably spend her time studying diplomacy, writing letters and researching countries that have connections with Vesuvia. Though I think she will still spend a great portion of time with Nadia, as her most trusted confidant.
As a court magician, Katerina has more flexible schedule and more free time, which she usually spends either in the library occupied by her studies, maybe working on certain projects, or helping maintain magic systems around the castle. Of course, sometimes she can be caught just slacking off and being insufferable with the rest of the court.
Her and Portia have enough possibilities to meet and talk during the official working hours, and they always make sure to have lunch together if they can help it, so that they could really take their time to discuss important matter at hand or gossip, and just be close to each other.
They usually spend evenings (and nights) in Portia’s cottage, and Pepi is also here, obviously.
Portia and Katerina can often be found spending time cuddling in a comfortable silence while each does her own thing, maybe they are reading, Portia might be knitting or writing something that one day might become a novel, Katerina is most likely busy sketching out plans for some ritual or just sketching in an artbook.
Katerina is touch-starved, so the moment they are alone, and she drops the pretence of being so tough and cold, she is constantly pressed into Portia’s side or just outright drapes herself over her. Portia finds it adorable and overall doesn’t mind, she jokes that she could even carry her all the time, Katerina only needs to say a word.
It’s almost a tradition at this point to cook dinner together, even though it’s mostly Portia who cooks and Katerina assists her. At first Katerina didn’t really help, because she wasn’t good at cooking, so she was mostly sitting on the counter and observing everything Portia did. However, now she knows all Portia’s recipes by heart.
🕶️Dark Type🕶️: Who’s the bigger prankster between the two of you? What’s the best prank either of you have pulled?
Portia is mischievous by nature, and she loves pranks, I have no doubt about it. She’s not the type to do something actually mean and harmful, she’s only here for chaos and maybe lightly poking fun at someone. Her usual targets are people in the palace (both staff and nobles) and Julian, though on some occasion she might play a small prank on Katerina. In fact, Portia is the only person who is allowed to play pranks on Katerina and get away unharmed.
She might not seem like it, but Katerina herself is fond of pranks as well, and if she didn’t do it often before, meeting Portia helped bring out that side of hers. Though I’m pretty sure that what she herself used to call “pranks” was just her committing criminal offenses for fun…
The fact that in Arcana world magic is kind of a common thing means that there are endless possibilities.
I’m not sure about the best, but the biggest prank they played together was trapping a certain annoying noble who was visiting the palace in a seemingly endless labyrinth. Portia was a mastermind and Katerina played the role of an executive, since to accomplish the entire thing they used illusions to trick their target into walking around the same set of corridors for almost an hour. Our duo was following them around under the invisibility spell all this time, trying their best not to laugh. At some point they began stealthily repositioning furniture and decorations, sometimes creating completely absurd compositions, just to fuck with their victim’s head even further. (Maybe Katerina is a bad influence to Portia…)
Before you ask, the entire idea was approved by Nadia in advance, who was the first to express her exasperation with the person in question.
🔮Psychic Type🔮: Look into your crystal ball and tell us what you think your future with your F/O looks like? Do you want to live together? Get married? Have the two of you ever talked about it?
By the end of her story Portia finally got what she dreamed of – she has a higher status, her efforts and talents are acknowledged, and she gets to travel the world on her own ship as a part of her job. Obviously, Katerina is by her side all the while and she herself got back to her previous position as a court magician.
They become prominent figures in Vesuvia’s government, both as politicians and friends of the countess Nadia. Well, even if they didn’t get their positions, they literally saved the city along with possibly an entire world once, so they still would have made names for themselves in history.
In any case, Portia and Katerina travel a lot and spend a great portion of time sailing seas and oceans. Fun fact: they have their own special map which they use to make plans and mark already explored territories.
They definitely get into a lot of misadventures, considering Portia’s courage, Katerina’s ideas, and their shared curiosity with a sheer desire to see “what would happen if we do this?”.
At some point were taken hostage by pirates and saved themselves by organizing a coup against the captain, later taking over the ship and living as sea robbers for several years until they got found by Tasya’s search team. It was awkward. One time they even went ahead and impersonated another married couple of merchants whose ship they stole, making a lot of money in another far-away country.
They kind of remind me of Tulio and Miguel from "Road to El Dorado", and they are likely to pull the same stunts those guys did.
It will take a while for them to retire. I don’t think they will stop even after reaching old age, I mean, look at Mazelinka. Portia is definitely going to follow her footsteps. While current Katerina, being a Major Arcana, should technically be immortal… But this whole issue is a different story.
It’s also canon that they got married in the epilogue, even though it was just an official registration of marriage, so the wedding itself is still ahead. I didn’t plan to get married, but since it’s happened, might as well celebrate it properly.
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Sheep’s Clothing [Inuyasha]
Naraku & Kagewaki Hitomi x Reader [cis-female]
Note: Can you imagine how fucked up it’d be if you were married to Kagewaki Hitomi?
C|TW: 18+ not for minors, noncon
♦︎ Kagewaki Hitomi. A young feudal lord who cherished his wife and did everything in his power to make her happy. You were his everything so it’d only made sense that he spoiled you with his riches and love. Though he was a feudal lord that title never came up in your relationship. He was only ever Kagewaki to you, even at his worst.
While gossip within the castle walls is inevitable, Kagewaki was more than willing to punish or remove anyone who had something negative to say about you, his beloved wife. You weren’t noble by any means and most likely came from a humble life. Yet, he expected everyone to treat you with respect or he’d take it as a personal offense.
♦︎ Kagewaki loved to whisk you away and take a scenic walk around the castle just to have a moment of peace with you. The little things mattered most to him, even if they seemed mundane. He appreciated all his time with you and didn’t take a single second for granted.
Though he was a man of high status, his touch was never rough or demanding! During this time there were plenty of men who viewed sex as a means to an end, not once considering a woman’s feelings about the act. But it was more than just an act to Kagewaki, who always wanted your eager consent when he craved you. He didn’t just use you for his own pleasure or personal gain.
♦︎ I imagine that you were away visiting another village during your husband’s encounter with the spider demon. Maybe to see a friend or catch up with your family that you were more than welcome to visit if you wished. Either way, you weren’t around when Naraku slaughtered most of the people within the castle. One of them is your precious Kagewaki Hitomi, who loved you dearly.
♦︎ How could you have known that something was off when you returned home? Naraku is a hell of a demon, his acting and manipulation skills aren’t to be taken lightly. He could take on the role of a weak, lovesick, noble if that’s what it takes to get the shikon jewel shards. It’s child’s play!
“Kagewaki’s” eyes remained soft when looking at you, his voice didn’t raise when he spoke to you, and his touches were still the sweetest. It’s no wonder you’re oblivious to it all. You don’t start to see the truth until Naraku becomes annoyed at another failed attempt to collect a jewel shard.
♦︎ In his anger, Naraku slaps the fuck out of you when you enter your shared room. You are too stunned to move from your place on the ground. When you look up at who you believe to be Kagewaki, he says that you did nothing wrong, that he only needed quick relief and already feels better.
Not sorry, forgive me, or it was an accident. This man said he did it to feel better! After seeing Kagewaki at his lowest point along with his highest, you never believed he’d raise a hand to you. Definitely didn’t think he’d do it to make himself feel good. You’re stuck! What could you possibly do now that he’s hurt you after years of being his wife? You could leave but then he’d stop supporting your family. He could send for you and have you murdered for “betraying” the castle.
♦︎ As if that wasn’t bad enough, the four children you’ve had with Kagewaki aren’t faring any better. It’s like he hates them all of a sudden. Their cries annoy him, he can’t be bothered to read to his daughter anymore. You had to take a hit to the chest when you caught him trying to strike your son. It was clear that Kagewaki had changed! You don’t know why or care to hear the story, all you wanted was for this to end.
His mood had changed drastically when you decided to take the kids to your parents. Almost like a burden had been lifted from his shoulders, it was sickening! If you had any doubts before they were erased after watching him glow now that the kids were gone. It was a good thing you gave your parents enough money to find a new place to stay. Anywhere far away from you and the village since you couldn’t trust Kagewaki not to come after them.
♦︎ That Onigumo may have cursed him with “affections” for that damned Kikyo but your husband wasn’t able to leave a single print on his soul. Therefore Naraku doesn’t hold an ounce of love or weakness for you. He could cut you up and feed you to his demons without a second thought. He could drag you to your previous village and make you watch as he has them slaughtered. It would be nothing!
He won’t do it though. At least not so soon since he loves toying with this new hole of his. Not a human, not a person, but an object he uses to relieve stress. That’s all you are to Naraku. You’re in danger like the rest of humanity.
♦︎ Rough! He’s so rough! You have bruises and scars from his rough treatment. He pulls you around without regard for your body’s limitations. Your arm had popped out of its socket once when he suddenly snatched you from your seat. His nails are sharp as blades yet he doesn’t care to rip your garments to shreds, pleased to see the blood escaping your new wounds.
You’ve been limping around the castle doing your best to stay out of his presence since he gets off on your pain. Due to his selfish nature, you’re never quite ready to take him, and he doesn’t prep you before sheathing himself to the hilt. While you’re writhing in pain from the sudden stretch and burn, Naraku only seems to get more excited and lustful.
Kagewaki would have never done something so heinous, so painful to you his beloved wife.
♦︎ You’ve realized long ago that the Kagewaki you fell in love with was no longer around and that he was never coming back. But what could you do now that a powerful demon has taken his form and refused to let you go? You tried to run away from Naraku, you’ve learned was his name, the day you witnessed him remove his head.
He was livid when he dragged you back inside the castle before you could get far. Mad enough to crush your left rib cage and threatened to devour you if you pulled a stunt like that again. While the offer was tempting since you didn’t want to live another day with the demon, your fear of dying was still strong.
♦︎ What could you possibly do now that your precious Kagewaki Hitomi was never coming back?
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PHONING... 𓂃 ࣪˖ carnival.
Essentially becoming a shut-in due to your extreme fear of crowds, your friends are determined to take you out and show you how much fun things can be.
selected: [ taehyun's song.] replay? ✧
જ⁀➴♡ wc 1k ✧ fluff , humor , comfort
As you inch closer to the front of the line, the rhythmic clinking of the cars ascending and descending fills your ears.
Standing before the entrance, the worker looked at you expectantly before glancing at the boys behind you. You turned to face them and they all gave you an encouraging smile, each one as sweet as the one before.
“So, who’s it gonna be?”
Looking at each of them, it felt almost impossible to pick just one. The feeling that everyone was waiting on you made you even more anxious, the idea of annoying the people around you getting your nerves up even more.
“Hey, Y/N it’s fine. Take your time.” Taehyun commented.
The small smile he gave you was enough to have you letting out a sigh of relief. “Do you want to come with me?” You asked, voice hopeful.
His eyes widened for a moment before nodding.
“Man… no fair.” Beomgyu whined.
“Can it, motor mouth. You’d probably throw up your cotton candy on Y/N anyways.” Yeonjun said, motioning for the two of you to go ahead with a smile.
Taehyun steps next to you, stepping into the open-air gondola as the attendant began to secure the safety bar.
“Are you excited?” He asked.
“Excited? Yes! Nervous..? Also yes. Somehow? Yes.”
The attendant gave you a friendly nod and tight smile before stepping off.
With a lurch, the Ferris wheel began its slow ascent, the ground falling away beneath you as the world took on a new perspective.
Taehyun seemed so calm and collected, a stark contrast to your sudden jittery nerves.
It wasn’t necessarily the fear of heights weighing on you now but the intense awkwardness of being so close, alone, with Taehyun.
A million thoughts of embarrassing yourself in front of him ran through your mind and none of them seemed appealing in the slightest.
You couldn't help but fidget with the hem of your shirt. Taehyun seemed to notice your continued unease and gently placed a hand on yours.
"Hey, don't worry. I'm right here with you," he said, his voice soft and soothing as always.
You felt a rush of warmth at his touch and his words, nerves beginning to subside again. Nodding, you gave him a grateful smile in return.
“I’m actually kind of surprised you picked me,” he started.
“I’m really glad, though.”
“Yeah… I mean, I’m glad too! I kind of realized we haven’t been able to get a second alone, so…”
“You wanted a second alone with me?” His voice was playful as he gently nudged your shoulder and you puffed out your cheeks with a huff.
“You know I hate when you guys tease me. That’s not what I meant…” your voice trailed off though, unwilling to defend yourself.
Especially when you had wanted a moment alone with him.
As the ferris wheel continued to ascend, you couldn't help but steal glances at Taehyun, his profile illuminated by the twinkling lights below.
His eyes were widened the slightest bit, the lights of down below reflecting in them like stars. The smile on his face was wide, almost child-like but as always infectious.
He seemed so at ease, gaze fixed on the horizon as you rose higher and higher.
"You know," he said, breaking the comfortable silence between the two of you, "I used to be pretty bad with crowds too when I was younger. The smallest bit, so I won’t pretend to completely understand your anxieties but I can sympathize.”
You chuckled nervously, feeling suddenly embarrassed by your own fear. "I guess I have a lot to learn from you," you admitted.
He shook his head, turning toward you. “You’re already fine. Truthfully, I was a bit worried but you did really well today. I’d even say you had fun for once in your life.”
You scoffed in fake offense, “I have fun in my life.”
“I’m sure you and those headphones have lots of fun almost walking into ongoing traffic. What I meant was, I’m glad we got to experience this with you.”
As the ferris wheel reached its peak, he turned to face you as much as he could, eyes sparkling with warmth.
“And there’s something I've been wanting to tell you," he said steadily as if he could scare you away somehow. Suddenly his voice was tinged with emotion.
It almost felt like there was an anvil hanging over your head ready to drop at any moment.
As cartoonishly ridiculous as that comparison was, in the moment all you hoped for was that he would say what you had been thinking.
Heart skipping a beat, your stomach began to flutter as you cursed yourself for snacking earlier.
“You can tell me anything, Taehyun.” The use of his name had him looking away, almost looking embarrassed for a moment.
He took a deep breath, returning his gaze to you. It was rare to ever see him nervous like this. "I really like you, Y/N. As more than just a friend. Well, more than like.”
All Taehyun could focus on was the feeling of your hand in his and how right it felt to him.
The weight that had finally been lifted off of his shoulders as he uttered the words, “I love you.”
And to him, it was true, every word. For Taehyun, loving you had come as natural as breathing.
Maybe you hadn’t noticed it because of how overwhelming everything had been in the world around you, but he was always there watching out for you.
Because to love you was about multitudes, the exact thing that you despised. Even if you disliked it, everyone was drawn to you without you knowing.
A love that is inordinate.
"You do?" You asked, voice squeaking a bit at the end.
The nervous look on his face quickly washed away as he laughed at that reaction and you audibly groaned, swatting at him.
“Don’t laugh! You can’t just drop that on me up here!!”
“Is there a better place?”
“Then the top of a ferris wheel?! Uh, yeah! What if I like— jumped off?”
“So you’d kill yourself to reject me? That’s a bit dramatic.”
“What?! No—! I’m not rejecting you— and I’m not killing myself either. Or, I wouldn’t. I am very happy with my life, actually!”
Taehyun nodded, that playful glint in his eyes.
“I believe it.”
“You’re kind of a jerk for this…”
“You invited me.” He shrugged.
“You’ve been plotting on my downfall this whole night, huh?”
"Yep. But I have to admit, seeing you so nervous up here is kind of adorable."
A wave of relief washed over you with the moment of silence, heart beating out of your chest.
“…You love me.” You said to yourself, repeating it in your head almost like a mantra to convince yourself.
Taehyun laughed, “undoubtedly so.”
“How much?” Your voice was hopeful, somehow finding it in yourself to squeeze his hand.
When the others had asked him, he couldn't find the words to answer back then.
But in front of your hopeful gaze, the words had finally found their way to him.
“If you asked me to, I would drain all the seas around the world and count every grain of sand that clings to the ocean floor.”
“Wow.”
The carnival below was a colorful tapestry, lights twinkling like stars against the night sky.
The sounds of laughter and music drift up to meet the two of you, mingling with the gentle creaking of the wheel as it turns.
“That’s all you’ve got?”
“Shut up, I’m overwhelmed! That’s like really romantic and this is way better than I ever dreamed of so I’m just… speechless. But thank you.”
He hummed in response, “don’t thank me.”
Looking at him in awe at the sheer magnitude of his admission, you let out a sigh of contentment.
“…I love you too, Taehyun.”
As the ferris wheel began its descent, you leaned in closer to him, placing your head on his shoulder.
“So you dreamed about me confessing to you?” he asked, a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Please don’t ruin my coming of age romance scene right now.”
Secretly you had hoped that the ride would never end and you could stay there, breathing him in as you watched the lights together.
“Y/N?”
“Yeah?”
“I’ve counted every beat of my heart that has echoed since I met you.”
જ⁀➴♡ phone in ᝰ.ᐟ
#. ˚◞♡ carnival.#. ˚◞♡ kang taehyun#⭒ extras [🪞]#txt x reader#txt scenarios#kang taehyun x reader#kpop x reader#kpop imagines#kpop scenarios#tomorrow x together#tomorrow by together
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i may,,,or may Not…,,,have written a fic of kaveh realizing that alhaitham does in fact have bitches (it is me im bitches) (it is under the cut)
There's very few things that Alhaitham and Kaveh think similarly about. One of them is that neither of them could ever imagine Alhaitham with a partner.
Oh how they were both proven wrong. However, they were proven wrong at very different times. For Alhaitham, it was when he first came to terms with his feelings of affection towards his now partner. Kaveh, on the other hand…Well, that time is right now.
“They’re what!?” If Alhaitham didn’t know him any better he’d assume Kaveh was on the verge of fainting. Though considering how new this situation is to both of them, maybe he is. “It was a miracle the one time you brought friends over, but this? Do you seriously believe I’m going to believe that you, out of all people, found someone that tolerates- no, likes you enough to be in a relationship with!?”
“You’re making some bold claims there buddy.” The person that’s the cause of the blonde’s disbelief cut in before the scribe could even open his mouth, causing him to sigh. “Will you please hold off on the sarcasm for a bit so that he doesn’t think I’m holding you hostage.”
”You’re not?” “He’s WHAT!?”
“I’m not.” Alhaitham let out another sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose as he closed the book he was reading before his roommate barged in, coming home earlier than he expected. “I’ll admit, I’m just as surprised as you are, seeing as I didn’t expect you to not find out for nearly five months.”
“Nearly HOW LONG?!” If Kaveh wasn’t about to faint earlier he certainly is now, the disbelief of the situation causing him to sit down. “Just how long were you planning on keeping this from me?!”
The Scribe raised a brow, “I wasn’t planning on keeping this from you, you just never saw us together, let alone put the pieces together.”
The disbelief on Kaveh’s face turned into annoyance, “Even so, you didn’t think about telling me, your roommate, that you’re with someone!? Just how have you been spending time with them without me finding out anyway?”
“It’s simple, really. You were never home when they came over and we never ran into you when we went out. Now, as for me not telling you…Well, you never asked.”
If Alhaitham wasn’t annoyed at his alone time (well, he wasn’t exactly alone) being interrupted, he would’ve laughed to himself at the look of shock and offense on his roommate’s face. “Why on earth would I ever ask YOU if you’re in a relationship!?”
”I assumed you possessed basic thinking skills and would connect the dots overtime, but it appears that I was wrong.”
“YOU ARE SO-“ The architect let out a breath of frustration and turned to the person that’s, apparently, his roommate’s partner, “Just what do you see in him?”
They were sat next to Alhaitham and considerably shorter than both men, hair messily tied up and glasses so thick Kaveh wondered if their vision was so bad that it miraculously prevented them from seeing the Scribe’s arrogance. They sat in silence for a bit, pondering their answer, “…Do you want the actual reason or the answer I’m willing to give?”
The blonde’s brows furrowed in confusion as he sat down across from them, not expecting that as their response, “willing…to give..?”
”I refuse to say anything nice about this man to his face.”
“So you’re…aware of what he’s like?” They nodded in response. “And yet…you’re willingly in a relationship with him?” The look on Kaveh’s face made him seem like he was handed a math problem that was entirely unsolvable as they gave him another nod in response. “W..why?”
”You essentially just asked the same question.” “I take it back, it’s starting to make sense.” Kaveh’s gaze made its way back to Alhaitham. “But still, I’m surprised that you, of all people, are in a relationship. Personality problems aside, you just never seemed like the type.”
Alhaitham shrugged before taking his partner’s hand in his own, “I also never thought I would be in a relationship, especially since I prefer being alone, but being around Riven is…easy, I suppose.”
“Riven…? Oh!” Kaveh flushed in embarrassment, so caught up in his own shock that he forgot to even introduce himself, “My apologies, I completely forgot to ask for your name. I’m Kaveh.”
“Oh I know.” “…Just what did you tell them about me?”
Alhaitham leaned back further against the couch as a smirk plastered his face, “All good things, no need to worry.” “They were in fact not good things.”
“YOU-“ Kaveh let out a sigh in defeat as he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, “You know what, forget it. I’m heading back out, you two love birds go back to enjoying your time together or whatever it was you were doing.”
Alhaitham called out to his roommate as he walked out the door, “Take your time, no need to hurry back.”
An unnecessarily loud slam was met with silence before Alhaitham let out a breath in relief, “I was hoping he would leave again.” He turned to his lover next to him, a hint of concern showing on his face, “Are you alright? His shouting wasn’t too much for you, was it?”
They gave him a reassuring grin, “I’m fine, he’s funny.”
”…You need a better sense of humor.” They scoffed, “Yeah, because yours is so great.”
Alhaitham let out a slight laugh before comfortable silence filled the room, until-
“We need to get married soon so that I can kick him out.”
”What?” “What.”
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“Assholes…!” – oh, why was he so quick to judge others? – “Well, I think quite opposite.” – she said with her voice between offense and poorly hidden amusement – “Then you’re taking such an asshole…oh, no! You’re being taken by her for a date. And I will be as sassy as I can to prove you…right!” – she was almost suffocating with her laughter. She couldn’t blame him for thinking badly about rich people – (she often thought the same) – although she did expect there was also some jealousy in these opinions of his.
His weak protests that they were not going for a date made her finally burst into cheerful and playful giggles – “Then tell me Duncan, if that’s not a date, then what is it?” – she took his arm as if that was the most natural thing to do – “Tell me, would I be that bad choice for a date? Wouldn’t your friends, or co-workers, or whoever else, wouldn’t they be impressed if you show there with me?” – she could not be the most experienced in these issues, but she knew what she was "worth" to the external world. She was pretty (maybe even beautiful), rich, she could definitely make an impression. She doubted he could date easily a girl like her. Though, Nunnally - of course - knew that wasn’t going to be a date. They were just teasing themselves.
“Oh, stop belittling yourself so much.” – Duncan – again – managed to annoy her – “Yes, you may not be a prince charming, but I was never looking for one. They’re boring. And need a princess. And I am not a one. I am a sassy brat. With no survival instinct. Remember?” – she reminded him almost using his own words against him – “But I am smart. Remember that, too.” – she was adamant about the last one; perhaps he was right, but she was not to admit it. Her good mood dropped when she heard his next comment (it was bitter-sweet with him; that comparison came to her mind): --
“Not sure if my father would accept anyone of my choice. He might accept a boy if…if he were to choose him alone.” – it was hard to say if she was serious or if she was joking. Probably both. Well, Nunnally didn’t feel like bringing anyone home, so it was not an issue for her at all. Rather a mental exercise – “Would your family like me?” – she was truly curious; probably not; she replied herself in her thoughts. They would probably find me a spoiled little princess.
And then they, somehow, managed to become serious again. No words were being said between them; only the silence and the nice sound of rain. And then Duncan’s words this time sounded different than before. More real? More honest? As if there was no more tease between them. Or was Nunnally only thinking so?
“I believe you.” – her words serious and solemn; and even though they seemed unfitting for the purpose Nunnally didn’t feel like dismissing them with laughter – “But it seems you are trying to change. Or perhaps you already did…”
But then he just needed to snap at her. Truth to be told, she actually enjoyed it (and perhaps appreciated it as well). It allowed her to become again a cheerful and sassy Nunnally that didn’t need to think too much.
“If that was the purpose of your confession, then… Then you failed!” – she announced completely happy again – “And you know what I think…you don’t really want me to disappear. You complain and grumble, but you’ll miss me the moment I am there no more. If you truly want some peace...” – she paused for a better effect – “…you’d leave. It almost stopped raining.” – but if he were to leave in that very moment, she’d run after him.
“And I didn’t steal candies.” – she frowned and pouted (for a better effect; he’d expect her to do so, right?) – “I am rich, remember? I could buy the whole shop if that need be.” – that was what she had thought when she was younger. Now, when she knew who (or "what") her father was, Nunnally knew things would be handled differently. She sighed; Duncan didn’t know “what” she was. But she didn’t want him to know. She was happy with things as they were now (but wasn’t she lying to him then?). ( “You’ve just met him Nunnally”); she replied to herself. Yes, she didn’t have to tell him the story of her life.
“So, am I now forbidden to be hungry in your company?” – she asked, though obviously she was n o t angry at him – “And yes, we eat finger sandwiches. Scones, crumpets and buns. And finally, cakes, biscuits and pastries.” – she recited it like a lesson she learnt long time ago – “But of course I didn’t mean that. Or actually, I did. But first things first. Let’s have some proper food, and then you’ll have some proper tea. With all these pretty tiny snacks.”
A short pause.
“But if you mention money one more time, I’ll scream. It’s on me. I have invited you for a date, haven’t I?”
“Or are you this kind of man who is offended when a woman pays?”
@starzfield
#duncan#nunnally#verse: mafia#starzfield#nun's vc: we are having a date#a date#i have been missing them#i promised i'd shorten it#but i failed obviously#sorry-not-sorry#[ queue. ]
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Final Girl (Part 5)
A/n she’s here and she’s big enough to probably have been two parts lol, so feel free to carve out some you time to absorb all of this, also there are scene breaks in this one like in chapter 4, but no smut warnings!!
also feedback is always super appreciated :))
Final Girl Series Masterlist (updated parts 1 - 9 and extras)
Series Summary: Y/n can’t believe that she has to leave the only home she’s ever known just because her mom’s latest boyfriend has a house in some town in California. Just as she’s starting to think that Woodsboro might not be that bad, something life altering happens after she agrees to sleep over at Becker’s house. Now her name is practically synonymous with Ghostface’s.
Chapter Summary: Billy and Stu are throwing a party that's basically couple's only. Good thing a guy in Y/n's english class is always trying to ask her out...and a good thing that Gloria isn't around to stop Y/n from raiding her closet.
----
What. The. Fuck.
Like actually.
The first thing I registered when I woke up was the sunlight that slipped in past my curtains. The second thing I registered was how comfortable I was. I don't think I've been this comfortable sleeping since what happened to Casey. The third thing I registered was the hand on my back and arm.
I'm half curled into Billy, and Stu's asleep on his back, my arm pulled to his chest. Okay--this isn't the most shocking thing ever. There was alcohol yesterday, and drunk me is touchy. The fact that we all passed out in bed isn't shocking. What’s shocking is the fact that it’s...weirdly nice.
This is the first time since Casey’s that I slept through the night without a nightmare. Was that because of the presence of other people or alcohol, I’m not sure, but either way the feeling of a full night of rest is refreshing.
I start to sit up slowly, doing my best not to shift enough to disturb either of them. Before my spine can straighten, a firm touch on my back has me moving back down. I slump against Billy, throwing a more confused than truly annoyed glare in his direction. “Billy.”
“What?” The question is mumbled, Billy doesn’t even bother looking at me. “I’m comfortable.”
Rolling my eyes, I briefly consider pushing away from him, but he does have a point. It is comfortable, and he’s warm. “That makes one of us.”
At that, he opens his eyes just enough to squint. I take a deep breath, a little too aware of the way he’s looking at me. Even jokingly lying to Billy feels exposing. I always feel like he can instantly tell.
He doesn’t call me out on it. At least, not directly, “You seemed comfortable last night.” The comment is just a tiny bit more suggestive than it needs to be. I sit up just enough to softly smack his chest. “You’re the one that fell asleep on me,” he defends, “So asleep that you snored.”
My jaw drops in offense. “I do not snore.”
The indignation in my whisper makes him grin. “Why are you whispering?” I tilt my head in Stu’s direction. As far as I can tell, he’s dead asleep and not loosening his hold on my arm any time soon. Billy’s gaze briefly flits over to Stu’s sleeping form. “He sleeps through everything.” When I don’t ease, Billy continues, “He slept through all that snoring.”
If looks could kill, I’d be a murderer. “You’re getting kicked out.”
“You’re mean in the mornings.”
“It’s not the morning, it’s...” I sit up a little more, looking at the digital alarm clock on my nightstand. “It’s 12:09. Wow, I really passed out.”
My mind begins to work in overdrive as I try to remember as many details about last night as possible. The gist of it is pretty clear, but what if I’m missing something?
“Don’t worry,” Billy says, reading my face easily, “You were fine. A little touchy, but you fell asleep right after The Shining.”
If I’m remembering correctly, I wasn’t the only one being a little too touchy. “Right.”
“What’s wrong?”
Eyes focusing on nothing in particular, I mull over my options. It’s not like there’s anything particular for me to complain about. I don’t remember being beyond uncomfortable or anything, just a little bit unsure. And I really don’t want to ruin everything by overreacting when I’m not even sure what my problem is.
“Nothing.” My fingers move, nervously tracing the floral pattern of my sheets. “The morning after drinking feels weird.”
“I thought it wasn’t the morning.” He barely pays any attention to the way I roll my eyes. “What are you thinking about?”
“Nothing, really.” I sit up, tugging my arm away from Stu as gently as I can. The space makes it easier to organize my thoughts. “Just thinking about yesterday feels a little weird. I don’t think I was the touchiest person last night.” My eyes awkwardly flit towards the one person that’s still asleep.
Billy shifts, watching me carefully. “He had been drinking since before I got to his place. He was moody, something about his sister and his parents.”
At that, I freeze, my breath catching itself in my throat. Mentions of their families, of what their dynamics are like beneath public perception, are rare...and always a little heartbreaking. “Oh.”
“I wouldn’t bring it up.” His warning isn’t needed. Early on, I learned that this is the one topic I can’t get away with talking about. Still, I nod. “And you know how he is, a ‘knock it off’ is a joke until he’s beyond sure you’re serious. Especially with you.”
My eyes snap away from the even rise and fall of Stu’s chest. “Especially with me?”
Billy’s hesitant, thinking over his words. “Your attention means a lot to him.”
I can’t bring myself to look at Billy. I can’t bring myself to do anything but stare at Stu. “Still,” I mumble after a second, “Boundaries.”
“I’ll bring it up to him when he’s more receptive.” Probably a good idea. The last thing I want is to push Stu when he’s going through something that he’s sensitive about. Maybe my silence comes off as hesitance because Billy continues, “You know he’d never do anything to hurt you on purpose.”
“Yeah.” I do know that, but I’m starting to feel like that doesn’t excuse everything. There are things that matter more than intentions. It’s hard to be mad at Stu when he’s asleep. When he’s this relaxed, he looks smaller, almost more vulnerable.
From what I’ve pieced together through bits and pieces, Stu’s parents are rarely around physically, and when they do come home, they don’t exactly express a lot of interest in their son. I’ve heard even less about Stu’s sister. I only know she exists because of the one time I went to Stu’s house. There was a framed photo of a girl, and when Stu mumbled something about a sister, my surprise was clear.
Growing up, I had always wanted a sibling, so I got a little excited. Stu’s reaction let me know that my enthusiasm wasn’t taken the right way. I didn’t get it until Billy mentioned that Leslie isn’t Stu’s favorite topic. He told me enough to let me know that it has to do with parental approval and attention.
Even though the way Stu acted yesterday was confusing and out of bounds, knowing where his head was at makes it harder to be upset at him.
Deciding that I don’t want to think about this anymore, I fold my hands on my lap.“How long do you think it’ll take him to wake up?”
“There’s no telling with Stu.” Billy moves so that he’s sitting up fully.
Frowning, I let out a too dramatic sigh. “I wanted pancakes.”
The corner of Billy’s lips turn upwards. “You wanted pancakes the last time you were hung over.”
I lean back, my arm supporting my weight. “Not hungover,” I defend, “Just want pancakes. They’re the perfect after-drinking food.”
“We can wake him up.”
“Don’t.” Billy’s arm is already half extended, I grab his wrist, my words a whispered hiss, “He said he hasn’t been sleeping great. Let him get some rest.”
Billy’s regarding me in a way that leaves me still. I think he might have found something about that amusing. “Protective.”
I roll my eyes. “He needs his sleep.” Stu isn’t the best at taking care of himself. What teenage boy is? And it’s not like his parents are checking in on him.
Okay, staring at Stu while he sleeps is weird of me. I turn my head to look at Billy. The bags under his eyes are made more prominent by the light coming in through my window. And is it just me looking for an excuse to worry or does he seem thin? Now that I’m thinking about it, I can’t think of anyone that’d be really looking out for Billy either.
The few things he’s mentioned about his dad don’t make him seem like a caretaker, especially considering that up until kinda recently, Billy’s mom was around. “Are you getting enough sleep?”
Oh my god, did I just ask that out loud? Billy turns his head, eyes softening just a little. “Worried about me?” Ugh, this is what I get for being nice. I cross my legs, eyeing him cautiously. “I sleep okay.” Before I can respond, Billy tacts on, “You?”
“Fine,” I reply too quickly, “Better before the whole thing with Casey.” Scratching the inside of my wrist, I try to force away the images that come to mind. It’s strange, how quiet the killer and the case as a whole have been. “But I guess that’s normal.”
Billy reaches forward, long fingers wrapping around my wrist before I can pick at the skin too much. “If you can’t sleep and you need something to do, you can call me.”
The offer is comforting. “Thanks, you’re a good friend.” His touch is warm, anchoring. “You both are. Not to make things weird, but you guys have been really helpful through all of this.”
“That doesn’t make things weird.” His response is delayed.
I look up, hoping to get a little more out of his expression, but his head is angled downwards. He’s staring at my sheets. “Let’s go make pancakes.”
Billy sits up even more before standing. I follow him, careful to not bother Stu as I move off of the bed. “You’re going to leave him here unsupervised?”
It’s clearly a joke, but I still shrug as I consider my response. “If he wakes up and decides to be nosy and look through my drawers, all he’ll find is proof of my sticky note addiction.”
----
This is nothing like what happened that night. I repeat that in my head again and again as I watch the stove. This isn’t like Casey’s and there are too many differences for me to feel like this.
It’s daytime. What happened at Casey’s was late at night. And I-I wasn’t really using a pan, it was just Jiffy Pop. There have been no weird phone calls. There’s been nothing. I’m fine.
I repeat the differences between now and then in my head like a mantra as I pour the pancake batter. It sizzles as it expands into the form of a lopsided circle. Forcing my focus to remain on what’s in front of me, I grab the spatula, lifting the pancake’s side to check how cooked the bottom side is.
“Almost done?”
“Patience is a virtue.”
Billy lets out a breath, supporting his weight with his arms as he leans against the kitchen counter. “You okay?”
I nod, tilting the pan slightly. “When it happened,” my knuckles lighten as I tighten my grip on the pan’s handle, “When Casey got that first call, I was standing in front of her stove.” Shaking my head to dismiss the potential downward spiral, I lift the edge of the pancake. “I can’t freak out every time I’m behind a stove for the rest of my life.”
“It hasn’t been that long,” Billy says patiently.
I flip the pancake. The loud hiss that follows leads me down a different road of memories. “I have good stove memories, too.” A weird thing to say, but it’s better than what I was thinking of. “When I was little, my mom didn’t have anyone to watch me and I was a terror unless I had something to do. So she used to sit me down on the counter next to the hot stove and had me mix the batter. It became such a thing she’d even put me on the counter when she was just baking. My mom went through a real baking phase from the time she was pregnant until around the time I started school.”
Lifting the pancake from the pan and onto the plate, I look up at Billy before pouring some more batter onto the pan. There’s a pensive quality to his expression that’s vaguely familiar. It reminds me of that brief second in the hospital after my mom came in. What had I called that look then? Wistful. “I used to trail my mom around the kitchen. She’d pretend to let me help her.” Focusing on the spatula in my hand, I try to keep my expression casual. “That was awhile ago.”
I abandon the utensil on the counter. Not being able to help myself, I turn and let myself look at him. What happened to his mother? She always comes up fleetingly, in ways that make it clear it’s a sensitive topic. I don’t think she’s passed away, the energy he reserves for her is too touchy. Maybe a messy divorce? I still remember that one summer my dad petitioned the court for custody and how much that sucked.
He’s closer than I realized. My hand reaches for his. He lets me intertwine our fingers. “Billy...” Thee’s something I should say. Something comforting and not pushy. Nothing good comes to mind. My thoughts are clouded by Billy’s eyes. My lips part, because he’s waiting for me to say something.
The smell of burning snaps me out of it. Snapping my head towards the stove, I release Billy’s hand. I yank the pan off of the stove and quickly drop it into the sink. Turning on the water, I begin fanning out the smoke. “Great, the one thing my mom told me not to do was trigger the fire alarm again.”
“Again?”
Turning away from the sink, I halfheartedly glare at Billy. “Long story and I’m not as responsible for it as that made me sound.”
He eyes me skeptically, taking a step forward. “Really?”
Before I can think of a response or get too lost in thought, an unexpected, tired voice interrupts us. “What are you guys up to?”
“Stu!” I grin, leaning against the counter. “We’re making pancakes.”
At that, Stu blinks, glancing at Billy, then at the still smoking pan, and finally, at me. “Really?”
“Trying to, at least,” I correct, “I’m way better at making them than it looks right now.”
Stu walks towards us with lazy steps. “I’m sure.” He ignores my pointed look, walking further into the room until he’s practically within reach. Stu extends an arm, vaguely reaching for me. I give in, closing the distance between us. He’s quick to wrap his arms around me gently. “Morning, angel.”
“Morning? It’s like 12:30.”
He runs his hand up and down my back for a second before I slip out of his grasp gently. “You’re the one making pancakes.”
I return to the sink, scraping the burnt pancake batter off of the pan. “Fair.” I turn off the sink after everything’s clean enough for me to start working again.
----
Reaching forward, I grab a few pieces of popcorn from the bowl that Stu stole from me. He turns his head, jokingly narrowing his eyes. “Hey, I made that.”
I pop a piece into my mouth. “Because I asked you to.”
“First, you make us watch this movie and now you’re stealing my popcorn.”
“First off, I didn’t make you watch this. You made a hospital bed promise to watch Clueless with me. You can’t back out of hospital bed promises, that’s like, karmic bad luck.” I pull my legs beneath me, sitting up a little more. “Second, it’s my popcorn, all you did was pop it. And I made you pancakes earlier!”
He shifts, pulling the plastic bowl towards him a little more. “Popping is the popcorn, without that it’s just kernels.” He ignores my glare. “Sorry, babe, but it’s mine.”
My last two pieces of popcorn go into my mouth. “Fine--if I say its yours, will you share?”
Stu sinks further into my couch, weighing his options. After a second, he shifts the bowl, leaning it in my direction. “Only for you.”
“We’re watching a movie.” Billy’s whisper is a little bit sharper than usual, irritated.
Billy being the kind of person to shush people for the smallest things during a movie makes sense. Even last night when I was basically wasted, he gave me a dirty look for mumbling something a little too loudly during The Shining. But that was the kind of movie he cares about.
I watch him as he stares at the TV. “Did you just shush me during Clueless?” He doesn’t react, just continues watching. I dramatically gasp, eyes widening. “Oh my god,” I don’t bother hiding the grin in my voice, “Are you, Billy Loomis, liking Clueless?”
“If you’re going to make me watch something, you should at least let me pay attention.” I press my hand against my mouth in an attempt to suppress a laugh. He is so busted. “If you don’t stop looking at me like that, I’m leaving.”
Holding my hands up in defense, I force myself to turn. “There’s nothing wrong with--”
“I’m leaving.”
“No!” My hand stretches forward, grabbing Billy’s arm. “It was a joke. I’ll stop. Promise.”
Billy looks at me skeptically for a long second. Cher says something to Dionne, and his eyes flit towards the screen, betraying him. “Fine,” he mumbles dismissively, attention already leaving me.
The second this movie is over, he’s never hearing the end of it. Oh, maybe if I play my cards right I’ll be able to get him to watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s. Unlikely, but I can dream.
I don’t know how the late morning turned into us watching a movie, but the company’s nice. I’m not used to an empty house and Billy and Stu are the kind of people that are hard to get tired of. Stu’s sense of humor becomes a little much after awhile, but telling him off is half the fun.
Billy relaxes against the couch, his arm eases as he turns over his palm. He intertwines our fingers before I can pull my arm back.
With the exception of a few comments Stu mumbled under his breath, the rest of the movie is watched with no interruptions. By the end of it, Stu’s head is on my shoulder and Billy’s still loosely holding my hand.
“I really promised you I’d watch that.” Rolling my eyes, I softly elbow Stu’s side. “Mean.” Before I can scold him for starting it, he moves on, “When is your mom getting back?”
Weird question, but I guess not too weird for Stu. “Um, Tuesday after school, right after the long weekend.” A part of me wishes we had school on Monday, at least it’d be something to do while I wait for my mom to come home. The more time I spend with people, the safer I feel. “Why? Do you have plans that’d get me in trouble or something?”
He moves away enough to look at me before throwing an arm around my shoulders. “I’ll get you in trouble whenever, angel.” Stu squeezes my arm, looking me over with a suggestive glint behind his eyes. “Except for tonight. Billy boy and I have places we need to be. Big, empty house plans.”
Oh. It’s not like I expected them to spend all weekend with me, but the vagueness of the statement makes me feel a little awkward. “‘Big empty house plans’ sounds like a code for an orgy.”
“Someone’s jealous.”
I half-scoff-half-laugh, “Of your orgy?”
Stu’s fingers press into the skin of my arm again. This time, the touch is a little firmer and less easy going. He raises his eyebrows up and down teasingly.
“Not an orgy,” Billy corrects, throwing a look at Stu that comes and goes so quickly, I can’t even start to interpret it, “Just a hangout with some guys and their girlfriends.”
I might not have the most experience with having friends that are (semi-)popular, and being left out of secret plans is a sore spot for me, but that sounds a little too much like: ‘Stu’s throwing a party that we don’t want to tell you about.’ But that’s a lot to assume from one sentence. “Still sounds like an orgy.”
“I’d invite you to my orgy,” Stu hums almost sweetly, his hand moving up and down my arm.
I shrug out of his grasp. “Really?”
“Eh.” Stu tries holding onto me as I continue to scoot away from him. “But only because an orgy’s a rough way to lose your virginity.”
Wow. Heat rushes to my face and the only thing that I’m thinking about is that I can’t just sit here silently. “What makes you think I’m a virgin?” Bad idea. Bad idea. Bad, bad idea. I shouldn’t humor him because now I’m going to have to have a conversation about virginity. “I was hot shit in Texas.”
There’s some odd quality to Stu’s grin. If I didn’t know better, I’d feel like he was baring his teeth. “You’re still hot shit, babe, that has nothing to do with it.” He answers my unspoken question before I can think to change the subject, “With the way your mom is about guys and how you listen to h--”
“I don’t always listen to my mom.” God, I’ve never felt like more of a little kid. “I-I drink and I don’t tell her about it.”
“But you’re mom’s okay with drinking.” My head turns towards Billy. “The first time I came over she was trying to convince you to get wine drunk with her so that you could watch some movies together.”
Do my mom and I enjoy the occasional tipsy movie night? Yes. Did Billy come over to work on a project with me while my mom was in the middle of trying to convince me to do just that? Yes. Did I need that thrown into my face right now?
Absolutely not. “What’s your point?”
“You always listen to your mom, it’s just not a problem because she basically lets you do whatever.”
Damn. Billy’s completely right, and so is Stu. I’ve never had sex or a boyfriend. I’ve never even had a first kiss because the one time I almost did at Chloe Woods’s 13th birthday party I freaked out and didn’t. They can never know that.
“Okay, I’m done talking to you guys about whether I have or haven’t had sex.” Scratching the back of my wrist, I try to keep my face just slightly annoyed. “And it’s weird that you’re connecting it so much to my mom.” I need a change of topic, and I need one fast. I think through all of the potential topics and how to throw this back at them. “Is that thing you’re doing at your house tonight the couples only thing a bunch of football players are going to?”
Stu’s smug grin turns, taking on an undertone that feels mean. “Pieced that together. You gonna put amateur detective on your journalism school application?”
I shrug, not loving this energy. “A few guys in my English class were talking about it on Tuesday.” The more time I spend with Stu and Billy, the more I notice their pension for staring when they want you to say more. “I forgot about it until Noel Thompson brought it up.”
“When did you talk to Noel Thompson?” Billy’s question comes out in a way that almost seems like an accusation.
“Uh, Friday, I’m pretty sure.” I scratch softly at my knee. “He came by to give me the homework I missed, which was nice because Mrs. Tegan assigned us another essay.” After a second, I meet Billy’s gaze, “He asked me if I wanted to go, I said I wasn’t really up for anything big, but he left his number in case I changed my mind.”
Oh! I have his number, maybe I could still go. Noel’s nice, and it’s not like I’ve ever been asked out before. Plus, he’s like the only guy in my English class that doesn’t have super sexist takes on our readings. “Oh, now that I know it’s at your place, maybe I should call him. That could be fun since you guys and Sid and Tate are gonna be there.”
“Noel Thompson yells a lot,” Billy says, voice weirdly low, “You’re too sensitive to go out with him.”
He doesn’t seem like the yelling type, but Billy’s demeanor keeps me from correcting him. “I wouldn’t be dating him, it’s just one party.”
“We never said it was a party.”
“Noel did.” I bite my tongue a second too late. The reaction came out too quickly. It makes me look defensive.
Stu’s touch on my forearm nearly makes me jump. “So you want to believe Noel because he came over to your house to flirt with you?” Not what happened, and before I can even open my mouth to defend myself, Stu continues, “I wasn’t going to say anything, but since you’re being naive, I feel like I have to tell you. Noel broke up with his last three girlfriends like a week after fucking them for the first time.”
Nails digging into the skin of my palm, I find it nearly impossible to meet Stu’s stare. “If you don’t want me there or don’t want me going with you, that’s fine, but don’t lie to me like I’m stupid.” What’s with them? One minute, they’re the sweetest, and then the next, they’re trying to parent me. “I get that it’s probably not fun to know that your friend’s a disaster when she drinks because then you feel like you need to babysit her, but I won’t be your problem tonight.”
“You’re always our problem.”
I try pulling my arm away from Stu, but he’s holding on too tight. “Excuse me?”
“Like you’re not going to come crying to us the second he tries something you don’t like.”
Didn’t realize my friendship was so annoying considering that they literally snuck into my house last night. “If you don’t want me telling you about things anymore, congratulations, because I won’t.” I try yanking my arm away again, this time being more firm about it. Stu’s grip is too much, and for the first time ever, that sends a pinprick of nerves through me. “Stu, let go.”
Billy places a hand over Stu’s. At that, Stu loosens his hold on me. “Stu’s just saying we don’t like seeing you upset.” There’s something about Billy’s calmness that bugs me. It’s feels as forced as the voice I used when I worked at the mall and a woman I couldn’t yell at kept snapping at me. “Noel’s an asshole, ask Sid if you want. He creeps her out.”
That’s likely true. Sid gave me a bit of a ‘be careful’ look when she saw me talking to him after class once. “I appreciate the concern, but it’s not a big deal. It’s not even an actual date.”
“It’s not a good idea,” Billy continues, “He’s going to hurt you.”
“I get that you’re worried, and that’s nice of you, but I can handle myself.”
Stu releases my arm completely, sinking into himself, “We just want a night where it’s just us and our girlfriends. You’re around all the time.”
My lips part, but no words come out. Nothing angry or considerate, just silence. I’m 14 again and finding out that while I called all my friend’s houses asking if they wanted to hang out, they were out together. I’m 12 again and fighting with my mom, defending my dad for standing me up on my birthday just to find out that she lied for him. He wasn’t working. He was at my stepsister’s cello recital.
Every moment in which I’ve been too much. Too attached, too needy, too dependent on others hits me at full force. And it hurts. And it’s unfair...it’s not like I ask them to be around all the time. I didn’t ask them to come over last night.
But I do involve myself in a lot of the things they do with Sid and Tatum. Mall trips, coffee runs, movie nights. Sometimes Randy’s there as well, but there have been times where I just kinda involved myself.
I thought we were all friends and that no one minded. This wouldn’t be the first time I made that mistake. Is this just a Stu and Billy thing or do Tatum and Sidney feel the same way?
“We can do something tomorrow.” Billy’s voice is still patient, but it doesn’t feel fake anymore. I can’t tell if that makes me feel better or worse. “I’ll drive you to the big bookstore on the other side of town.”
That’s something I’d normally jump at. It’s one of the worst parts of having no license. No one ever wants to take me to the big bookstore because it’s far and I take forever. There’s nothing more time consuming than me in a bookstore with a cafe inside of it.
I nod. “Yeah, that’d be nice.” Billy’s eyes are heavy on me. I don’t like it. “Maybe--I um, I have a lot of homework I want to get done before my mom gets back. She takes up a lot of time after trips, no matter how small. She has a thing about taking pictures.”
“Don’t be mad at me, Stu’s the one that said it.”
“Like you’ve never said it.”
Great, now I have to think of them talking about how annoying and clingy I am. “I’m not mad.”
“Stu’s an idiot, he only said that so that you’d be mad at both of us.” Billy’s words are too carefully picked. He didn’t deny thinking that. “You can do your school stuff tonight, that way we can go tomorrow.”
“Yeah, that’s a good idea.” I need to act more okay about all of this before they accuse me of making a big deal about this. It’s bad enough that they already think I’m clingy. “You know I should probably start soon and I’m feeling kinda tired.”
Billy turns to face forward. “You’re kicking us out.”
His voice sounds so small I’d backtrack if it wasn’t for my thoughts. “I’m feeling weird, I’m not sure you’re supposed to drink with a concussion, which could explain why I got drunk so fast yesterday. I think I need a nap before I start working on anything.” I stare at my lap. “That way I’ll have time to finish it all before tomorrow. Besides, you guys have that thing to get ready for.”
At that, Billy seems to unfreeze. He nods. “Yeah, you’re right.” He moves to stand. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, sounds good.”
Stu gets up without looking at me. Whatever his problem is. Who is he to call me clingy when he literally got drunk and demanded to stay at my house last night? I say one last goodbye and the two of them leave.
Never have I wanted to talk to my mom and dissect an interaction more, but I can’t without getting into the whole thing. I could edit out the details so that she doesn’t kill me, but I don’t want to get into all of that. Lying and keeping things from her isn’t my strong suit, and I don’t have the energy.
Maybe I should just do homework.
----
“Oh my god, you know what you have to do, right?” Hallie’s voice rings so loudly throughout the phone’s receiver that I have to push it away. “And if you say homework, I’m hanging up and never talking to you again. Please tell me you’re not doing homework.”
I frown at the essay in front of me. “You’ve been friends with me long enough to know that that’s my go to panic move.”
Hallie and I have been each other’s go to’s since we met in the first grade. I had been having a terrible day, and then when Samantha Colts made fun of me for reading during recess, Hallie pushed her off the swings. The teacher asked me if I saw what happened and I said I didn’t see anything. It was my first lie to an authority figure and Hallie’s first time hurting someone for me.
“Okay, but this is different. You can’t let guys walk all over you like that. if you let them get away with it once, they will do it a thousand times.” Not only did I call Hallie because of how close we are, I also called her because she’s always so opinionated when it comes to guys. Not that this is really a ‘guy’ situation, because it’s not like I’m dating them. But still, they’re boys, and I’ve never cared about a guy’s opinion so much before. “You need to hang up on me, call that football player, and show up, looking super hot. Don’t acknowledge Billy or Stu unless they walk up to you and then be like ‘oh, haven’t noticed you, I’ve been busy.’”
Do I want to do that? I mean, it’d be fun to get in a jab about that whole clingy thing, but it’s conflictive, and arguing with them is exhausting. “I don’t know.”
“Well, I do,” she continues, “Go to that party in the outfit Gloria wore to chaperon our middle school dance. The one that almost got her called into the principal’s office.”
Ugh...my mom was about to turn 30 when I was in middle school, and the crisis of leaving her 20s showed. “It’s late, Noel probably already has a date.”
“So? Tell him that your schedule just cleared up and that you’re a better time than whoever he’s replaced you with.” I love Hallie, but she’s not like me. When she wants someone, she has them wrapped around her finger in an instant. “You’re just using that as an excuse. Go out, have fun, make them eat their hearts out.”
I roll my eyes. “They’re not going to care that much. They have girlfriends, remember? It’s not like that.”
“Guys are weird about seeing you with other guys, even if you’re just friends. It’s like a psychological thing, like they want you around as an option or think that you’re gonna get stollen or something. I don’t know. People have studied it.”
While I doubt that, she’s never given me bad boy advice before. “I just don’t want this one thing to ruin our friendship. Maybe I should give them the space they want.” I groan, going from sad to angry. “You know what, screw them. If they don’t want to be friends with me anymore than who needs them?”
“No, those are your daddy issues talking. Just because you’re mad at a guy doesn’t mean you’re never going to talk again.” After a second of silence, Hallie asks, “Are Billy and Stu hot? I’m imagining them really hot.”
This is the exact kind of question Hallie would ask, but I can’t help feeling embarrassed. “Hallie, they have girlfriends, remember?”
“Doesn’t answer my question.”
Sighing dramatically, I cautiously eye my room as I pull the receiver even closer to my face. “Yes, they’re hot.”
She squeals. “I knew it. I cannot wait until I visit.”
The thought of Hallie meeting either Billy or Stu makes my stomach feel unsettled. She earned the nickname Hurricane Hallie when we were kids for a reason. She likes to flit in, let others get wrapped up in the storm when they should be bunkering down, and then she disappears, leaving you alone with the aftermath. I love her, but I don’t want her interfering with my life here just yet.
“Yeah, hot guys with girlfriends, your speciality.”
I can practically feel her eye roll. “Yep, that’s me,” she plays along sarcastically, “Now quit stalling and call him. I’m hanging up before you can change your mind. And wear something hot for me, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’ll dress up all pretty just for you.”
She giggles, “Alright, love ya. Call me tomorrow with the details.”
“Okay, wi--” Before I can finish my good byes, Hallie hangs up. She’s smart, she knew I was like two seconds away from talking myself out of this.
With a sigh, I flip over the English packet Noel dropped off on Friday. He scribbled his number on the back. I dial it before I can panic. After two rings, he answers. “Hello?”
“Uh, hi, Noel, it’s me, Y/n, from English.” Ugh--I can feel Hallie facepalming from states away. “I know it’s kinda last minute, but I was wondering if you still wanted to go to that thing?”
----
Those freaking liars.
This is a damn party, and honestly, I’m offended that they thought they could get away with lying to me about this. It’s not like I’m social classes below them. At least, not all the time. At the very least, they should have considered that Sidney and Tatum could have brought it up to me.
Honestly, this whole thing is starting to feel weird. Who throws a party that’s couples only? It feels like the kind of thing old married couples would say to get a group of swingers over to their house. Now I’m starting to feel weird.
“You look really pretty, by the way.” Noel’s voice snaps me out of my train of thought. “I don’t think I told you that earlier.”
I smile warmly, feeling the slightest bit easier. I went full in with Hallie’s advice and dug through my mom’s closet until I found her go to chaperoning outfit. Pink, low cut halter top paired with a pink mini skirt. Nothing flashy, just mildly suggestive. “Thank you.”
He gestures towards Stu’s house with a nod of his head. “You wanna go in?”
Bracing myself for what I hope won’t be a too drastically eventful night, I nod and let him lead me into the house. The second we step inside, the fact that this is most definitely, undeniably a party hits me at full force. From Noel’s truck, I could hear music coming from the house, but this is something else all together. The energy is absolutely magnetic. So magnetic that when Noel comes back from the kitchen and hands me a beer, I don’t think twice before drinking some.
I’m about halfway done with my third (maybe?) drink when a high pitched, “Y/n!” steals my attention.
I turn, searching for the source of the sound. Oh, it’s Tatum. Am I mad at her? What Stu said kind of made it seem like everyone was getting tired of me. I guess the only thing I can do is act normal until I figure it out. “Tate!”
She runs up to me in a tipsy-enthusiastic way. I let her pull me into a hug. “I was starting to miss you. I even wanted to call you to come over but Stu hasn’t given me a minute.”
The mention of Stu’s name leaves me feeling awkward. I almost didn’t notice him lingering around Tatum until she mentioned it. He places an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her even tighter as she giggles and pretends to push him away. “I’ve missed you, Tay.”
She rolls her eyes, pulling on Stu’s shirt slightly. “Boys are overrated. We should have a girls day soon.”
That sounds nice, especially since I don’t think I’ll be spending as much time around Billy and Stu. “Yeah, we should go get our nails done or something soon.”
“Yes,” she grins, “Oh my god, are you here with Noel Thompson? We saw you walk in with him earlier, I wanted to say ‘hi’ then, but I lost you.”
Okay, maybe Tatum’s a little more than just tipsy. “That’s okay,” I giggle, “And yeah, I’m here with Noel, he’s just grabbing another drink. He came to my place to bring me some homework from English and then asked me if I wanted to come with him.”
“Oh, that’s cute,” she hums, “Just be careful, though. I’ve heard enough girls crying over him in the school bathroom.”
Stu’s lack of attention is starting to feel pointed as he continues to be all over Tate. I guess that’s what he wants tonight, but he could come up for air long enough to say hi. Whatever, if he doesn’t want to talk to me, I don’t want to talk to him.
“I know, I know. It’s casual.”
“Good,” she agrees, “I’m gonna go get another drink, but you should find Sidney when you get the chance, she missed you, too.”
Oh. Both Sid and Tate wanted me here. So Stu and Billy are the ones that have problems with me. Tate circles her way out of Stu’s grasp, laughing and throwing a look over her shoulder once she finally escapes. After she disappears into the crowd, I’m left alone with Stu.
Just when I’m about to break and say something to him, Noel returns, swinging an arm over my shoulder and pulling me towards him. “Hey, you wandered off.”
“Hi,” I grin, “Sorry, I saw someone I knew.”
“Oh, you’re friends with Macher?” Noel turns to look at Stu, who seems to snap out of a level of aloofness. “How you doing, man? I meant to check in after the whole Casey thing. I know you guys broke up awhile ago, but still, it’s gotta hurt.”
Wait--did Noel just say Stu used to date Casey?
How has that not come up? He was literally in the hospital with me after--? I guess that explains why he wasn’t thrilled when he saw me talking to her after homeroom. No one likes it when their friends talk to their exes, but not mentioning it at all? That’s weird.
“Hey, you okay?” Noel squeezes my arm. “You look a little uneasy.”
“She’s the girl that was at Casey’s the night it happened.” Stu explains, his tone a lot softer than anything he’s used around me since our argument. “She’s still sensitive about it. Aren’t you, angel?”
I blink twice, taking a long sip of room temperature beer. “I um--”
“Shit, that was you?” Noel takes an awkward semi-step away from me. “I must’ve forgot it was you. I didn’t mean to bring up any bad memories.”
“It’s fine.” I internally cringe at how fast the answer comes out. “I’m gonna, I need to use the bathroom.”
Waiting for nothing else, I turn on my heels. The sound of my name is faint in my ears as I rush away from the crowds. I just need a second away from this noise so that I can think.
“Hey, Y/n.” I nearly jump out of my skin as a hand grabs my arm. I turn too quickly, nearly stumbling into the wall behind me. Noel’s watching me with eyes that ooze sympathy. “I am so sorry about bringing up Casey. I didn’t know you knew her, let alone--”
“It’s fine,” I breathe through gritted teeth, “I just-I need a second.” Why am I melting down? Because he mentioned her name so casually? Because of the fact that Stu dated her?
“I didn’t um-I didn’t expect to hear her name. The things that have been making me spaz lately have been so random.”
Noel nods once, “That makes sense, I can’t even imagine it.” When I don’t ease, Noel drops his arm. “Wanna go into the kitchen? It’s quiet there and I can get you some water. You just-you kinda look like you want to throw up.”
I nod gently, letting Noel lead me out of the hallway and towards the kitchen. My stomach is in literal tangles, Noel nailed the ‘wanting to throw up’ thing.
He’s right. Stu’s kitchen is empty and well lit, making it a lot easier to breathe as Noel pulls a water bottle out of a cooler. “Are you feeling okay? You look really freaked out.”
I twist the lid off of the water bottle before bringing it to my mouth. I take small sips until nearly half the water’s gone. “Do you think it’s weird that Stu never mentioned they used to date?” The second the question is out, I regret it. Noel doesn’t know the situation. I don’t even really know the situation. I can’t start rumors like that based on a bad feeling after an emotional day. Especially not when talking to a guy I barely know. Maybe I could get away with bringing this up to Randy, but not Noel. “Oh my god, I’m a terrible person for asking that.”
“I don’t think you’re terrible,” Noel starts gently, “It’s natural to question everything after something like this happens.” I nod, fingers twisting the plastic cap between my fingers. “And I honestly don’t think it’s that weird that he didn’t bring it up.”
My eyebrows draw together at that. I press the cap into the counter with my thumb. “What?”
“It makes him look super suspicious. I don’t think I’d want to take that kind of heat over a girl I dated sophomore year of high school.” That’s a decent point, I guess. If most people have forgotten you dated someone, why bring it up when it could potentially ruin your life? “Plus, if we’re going to make everyone Casey Becker dated a murder suspect, the police will have their fair share of guys to look through.”
My thumb digs so deeply into the plastic that I can feel the ridges of the cap dig into my skin. “Are you seriously slut shaming her right now?” God, what is it with men? “My friend’s--she’s gone and you feel the need to make a joke about her dating life?”
“No!” He blurts out, moving like the implication scalded him. “No, I’m not saying that at all, I’m just saying that I know Stu. He’s a lot and he makes jokes, but he’s not a killer.” Noel shifts when he realizes that I’m not easing, “He’s not like his friend.”
What? “His friend?”
Noel leans against the counter. “Him and Billy are pretty close, and Billy seems impulsive and too attached to how people see him. I’ve known them since we were kids, but Billy’s the only one that gives me that vibe, y’know?” When I don’t say anything, he continues, “I’m not saying Billy did it, there’s no proof as far as I know. I’m just saying that’d surprise me less.” Noel’s gaze moves towards the cap I’m still fiddling with. “He’s just a little too...I don’t know--protective?”
The choice of wording cuts through me. While Stu’s up front about everything, Billy’s the one that’s quiet, hard to read, and cares so much about the people he’s close with in an invisible way. The way he reacted to me saying I might come here with Noel tonight demonstrates the distinction between them clearly. Stu was openly bothered, but Billy...he was nice. Maybe too nice?
Okay, that’s ridiculous. I can’t suspect Billy, the same Billy that was making pancakes with me this morning and grabbed the syrup off of the top shelf when I couldn’t, of murder. Especially not because he seems like less of a wild card than Stu.
But then again, most killers aren’t the larger than life personalities. The charismatic white guy is the bad guy so often I’m surprised they’re still never the first suspect.
Ugh. I hate thinking about this. I’ve had too much too drink and my head’s starting to hurt.
“I don’t think it’s Billy, for the record,” Noel says after I refuse to end our long stretch of silence, “I was just using him as a reference point.”
It can’t be Billy. It can’t be. I’m drunk and creating conspiracy theories out of panic. I’ve done it before. Two seconds ago I thought it could be Stu just because he didn’t feel like advertising the fact that he used to go out with a murder victim. I can’t just switch up based on whoever’s name I hear while I’m freaking out.
“Yeah.” My voice sounds hollow, unsure. “Sorry, this is a party, and that was bleak.”
“You’re fine,” Noel seems genuine, “You’ve been through so much I don’t even know how you’re out of the house. I’d be too scared to ever do anything again.”
I smile at his effort. “Guess I’m tougher than I look.” Letting go of my water bottle, I reach for the beer I abandoned. “No more talk about all of that, let’s just have fun.”
Noel picks up his own beer bottle, tapping the neck of it against mine. “I’ll drink to that.”
----
The alcohol, small talk, and forcing myself back into the party was supposed to help my anxiety. It hasn’t. No matter what I do, I can’t stop thinking through every interaction I’ve ever had with Billy. Even the nice things feel weird now. I couldn’t even bring myself to meet his gaze when he nodded in acknowledgement towards me earlier. And when Sid called me over, I pretended not to notice.
Ugh, I hate myself for letting these ideas get into my head.
There’s no proof. There’s nothing. And because of that, even if I could form an opinion, no one would believe me. Whenever I mention anything about that night, people look at me like a child that needs to be coddled. Their eyes get all sympathetic as they dismiss me with kind phrases like, anything’s possible and yeah, I think the police should look into that.
if I put this in the perspective of something I know well, all mysteries have evidence. They all go back to the crime scene. If Randy gets to pretend that this is a scary movie, I can pretend it’s a mystery novel.
And following that logic, I need to go back to Casey’s house.
After I pee. God, I don’t feel drunk, but it’s possible considering how many times I’ve abandoned Noel in the last hour to use the bathroom. I don’t hate the excuse to leave, everyone’s getting couple-y and making out and maybe Stu did have a tiny bit of a good reason for telling me not to come tonight.
Whoever’s in there is taking way too long. I lift my hand to knock again, but before I do, the door opens. The lack of physical object in the way throws me off. My fist flatly lands against a chest.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry!” I immediately take my hand back, looking up at the person who I accidentally hit. “I am--” The rest of my apology is lost as I realize that it’s Billy. I take two steps back as my heart thrums in my chest.
“Oh, Billy, it’s you.” Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. A nervous giggle leaves me. “I um-I didn’t see you there.” Shaking my head dramatically, I start over, “I saw you, I just-I didn’t see--before, you know?”
He regards me cautiously. “How much have you had to drink?”
“Not much,” I mumble, digging my nails into my palms to avoid bouncing on the balls of my feel, “I um--I’m not your problem, anyways, remember?” It’s supposed to be a joke, or maybe an excuse for my aloofness, but it comes out too bitter. “Sorry, um, we can talk more tomorrow. Bookstore, right?” When Billy doesn’t move or say anything, I tilt my chin up, “Bathroom. I need to use the bathroom.”
Billy tilts his head, his expression unreadable as he takes a step forward. ���You jumped when you saw me.”
My eyes widen. “No.” The denial is too quick, too offended. “I jumped because I didn’t expect to see you, or anyone.” I cross my arms in front of my chest, tying to seem steady. “I’ve been drinking.” I whisper the last word like it’s some kind of secret.
“I noticed,” Billy says flatly. His hands almost leave his sides like he’s considering trying to help stabilize me. Or do something more cynical. “Maybe you should get your boyfriend to take you home.”
Swallowing back my dread, I watch him for a long second, “Boyfriend? Oh, Noel, he’s not--I mean he’s nice.” He thinks you could be a murderer. “I don’t think he’s in the going home mood, and I need some air. I’m walking home after this.”
Billy presses his lips into a thin line. “Let me take you home, make sure you get to bed okay.”
“No.” The word is basically a pout, and the way I sway slightly doesn’t make things any better. “Not your problem anymore, remember?”
He pushes himself away from the doorway of the bathroom. Billy stalks towards me slowly. I hold my ground until Billy’s basically leaning over me. At that, I step back, but Billy keeps going until I’m backed into the wall.
The hallway is empty, but the party is still alive and well around the corner. It feels like a world away with Billy standing this close. “I never said you were a problem and I never said you weren’t mine.”
His words only half make sense, but the intensity of his tone edges me towards panic. “Billy,” I begin slowly, “I just want to go to the bathroom, splash some water on my face, and then go home.”
He places a hand next to my head and I feel air claw its way back down my throat at the implication. He’s trapping me. “You’ve been avoiding me all night. Didn’t even say anything to Sid when she tried waving you over.”
I shake my head the little bit I can in this position, silently praying that I don’t look like a deer caught in headlights. “No...I was just giving you guys the space you asked for.”
Billy leans impossibly closer, his hand sliding off the wall. I hold my breath until his thumb brushes against my cheek. Despite the tension in the air that I’d need a knife to cut through and my own nerves, my body relaxes instantly at the contact. “Do you remember when we first met?”
It was during lunch. Tatum was the one that first pulled me towards their group and Stu was the one that kept calling me over. It was my first day and I was super nervous about lunch. Stu called me over before I could freak out and then a few seconds later began a joke that turned some kid into a punchline. I remember not being super comfortable, but not wanting to say anything because I couldn’t risk it. Billy had jumped in and saved me from needing to make a comment about it.
“Yeah,” my voice is too soft, too flighty, “During lunch on my first day.”
He nods once, eyes taking on a kinder hue. “You know what the first thing I noticed about you was?” Billy doesn’t wait for me to respond, “That you can’t keep a single thought or opinion off of your face.”
Every drop of blood rushes down my body. The corner of Billy’s mouth turns upwards at my expression. “That’s how I know that you’re lying. You don’t want to go home. Where were you going?”
Staring at him is becoming too difficult. “The bathroom,” I mumble, “And then...Casey’s.”
And just like that, any cracks in Billy’s demeanor disappear. “Stu’s right when he says you’re one impulse away from playing Nancy Drew.” I don’t say anything, but Billy doesn’t seem to mind my silence. “You’re drunk, you should go home.”
“I’ll get there.” I try to sound serious as I say, “Go spend some time with your girlfriend, I’m fine.”
Billy looks at me for a long second, the fingers cupping my face pressing slightly into the skin of my neck. Something I don’t recognize flashes across his expression. All at once, it disappears and Billy steps away from me. “Sid would kill me if I let you wander the streets this drunk.”
“Don’t do me any favors, I’m not trying to be anyone’s responsibility.”
With a sigh, Billy looks me over again, “I’d worry too.” He studies my reaction, “Friends worry about their friends.” When I don’t protest, Billy continues, “Go to the bathroom, I’ll walk you home after.”
----
I’m being ridiculous. If I don’t start acting normal, Billy’s going to realize that I’m freaking out. If he hasn’t already.
Shaking the thought out of my system, I keep my eyes on the ground. People saw us leave together. Sid gave me a quick hug and told Billy to take his time keeping an eye on me, considering the fact that no one’s waiting for me at home and I’ve been kinda jumpy. Two girls from two of my different classes waved goodbye to me. I wanted to say goodbye to Noel, but I couldn’t find him.
The October air bites against my skin. My mom could get away with wearing this in Texas no matter the time of year because it’s actually hot there. I keep my arms tucked into myself for warmth.
“Here.” Billy’s stopped walking, and now he’s holding his arm out to me.
I blink, realizing after a second too long that he’s offering me his jacket. He’s looking just past me like he can’t bring himself to meet my eyes. It’s weirdly cute in an awkward way. The endearment that I feel quickly melts into guilt.
I take the jacket, shrugging it on. “Thanks.”
“Are you okay?” Billy takes a step towards me, nearly making me trip off the sidewalk. “Be honest.” When I still can’t bring myself to say anything, Billy’s expression seems to cloud, “We’re not at a party, we’re not at school. It’s just you and me.”
It’s ironic that the only anchor I feel is the warmth of Billy’s jacket. The patience that he’s looking at me makes the dam break. “I--I feel like I’m going crazy, all the time.” My answer is so honest, my throat feels raw. “And I feel like that because I lived I’m like indebted to the universe or something. Like--like I’m supposed to do something for Casey, but I can’t do anything because I don’t even feel like I can trust my own thoughts.” A small scoff leaves me. I’ve never been this pathetic. “What if I’m never normal again? I-I tried watching the movie that we were gonna watch before it happened the other day and I couldn’t even get through the first five minutes. And I--I loved that movie.”
By the time I’m done with my rant, Billy is close enough to me to pull me into a hug. I let him, slowly moving my arms back around him. “It’s been a week,” he whispers, “You just need time.” I nod into his chest. “And in the mean time, we can find a better movie than A Nightmare on Elm Street.”
I move away far enough to wipe at my face with the back of my hands. “Yeah,” I smile stiffly through a sniffle, “I just want to go home and not drink again for a really long time.”
Billy lets go of me. I turn slowly, already starting to walk again. Billy stays behind me. Shit, he picked up on it. I break out into a run, ignoring the confusion in my body. Billy’s footsteps are deceptively quiet behind me.
We’re only blocks away from my house. I can--I can get there.
He grabs my forearm, forcing me to face him. “Wh-what’s gotte--”
“How’d you know what movie was playing?!” Billy pauses, his grip on my arm tightening. “I didn’t tell you. I only told one person, and it-it was the guy on the phone.” His lips part, but before he can speak I stomp on his foot with all of my strength. It doesn’t affect him until I throw all of my weight back, forcing him to loosen his hold just enough for me to squirm away from him.
I start running again, taking off my wedged heels and throwing them blindly behind me, hoping that they somehow slow him down. Those shoes are more of a hazard than running barefoot.
Now it’s just me and a race against Billy as I try to think of every horror movie mistake I could possibly make. My instinct is to run through the woods in order to potentially lose him, but that’s literally the opening scene mistake. So I just run fast and straight, staying on the illuminated sidewalk path and never looking behind me to see if he’s still following.
The house is only steps away from me. “Y/n!” Shit. I pick up the pace, ignoring the ache in my side and chest. “Let me explain!” I scramble to unlock the door. Billy’s close.
Just as I throw open the door, Billy’s fingers brush against my shoulder. A scream that I can’t even recognize as my own bleeds from me as I slam the door behind me. Billy pushes against the wood, but I was expecting him to do that. I use all of my force to shove against the door. After slamming it hard a few times, the door shuts just enough for me to be able to twist the lock into place.
This isn’t my first time trying to keep an angry man locked out of the house so I know better than to move away from the door while he’s still pounding on it. “You can’t believe that I’d do that.”
My eyes squeeze shut, tears blurring my vision. “Just go away! Please.”
“Not if you think I killed them.” He continues to knock and try the door handle. “You think I’d hurt you?”
I’m still struggling to breathe and the adrenaline is starting to wear off. My head is starting to pound.
A familiar ringing cuts through my emotional haze. The phone. The living room extension is only a few steps away from me. It could be my mom calling because she can’t sleep, or my dad, or maybe even Hallie. All I know is that it’s a lifeline, and Billy’s no longer shaking the front door.
I keep one hand on the door for as long as I can before picking up the receiver. “Mom?”
A dark laugh that’s played almost every night in my head since I first heard it absorbs all the hope from my body. “I’ll give you one more guess, doll face, just cause I like you so much.”
My bones are glass, the phone slips from my grasp. It clatters onto the ground, not loud enough to be heard over my heartbeat. The last time I ignored him, he didn’t take it well. That’s the only reason I find the strength to sit down and pick up the phone. I push myself back so that my back is pressed into the front door.
“You back yet? You’re cute, but I don’t like being ignored.” My breath comes out just shaky enough for it to be audible. “Oh, I hear you. What’s wrong, doll face? Not happy to hear from me?” My lips part, but my voice has completely left me. “Aw, keep the silent treatment up and you’ll hurt my feelings. And I play a lot less nice when my feelings are hurt. Might even have to take it on your buddy Billy Loomis, since you left him locked out like that.”
Billy? “I-I’m still not sure that this isn’t Billy, but if it’s not leave him alone.”
“Maybe you’ll believe it’s not him when he turns up gutted like your little friend.”
The reference to Casey forces my stomach to lurch. I swallow back bile. “Why’d you do that?” I force my hand over my mouth as I almost let out a cry. Did I just kill Billy? “Why-why do that to Casey and just let me live?” Wiping my face with my palm harshly, I try to keep my voice steady, “Why call me now?”
There’s the slightest bit of motion audible over the receiver. “What can I say, baby doll? I missed your voice.” If I felt any strength left in my body, I would have rolled my eyes at that. “You should already know why I let you live. You said it yourself the first time I called you.”
“What?”
He lets out a cruel laugh at such blatant confusion. “I’m not doing all of this to make a bad scary movie. And all the greats have a final girl, you said it yourself.” As his words sink in, a sob threatens to escape the confines of my chest. If he means what he’s saying, then a lot more people are going to die. “And, sweet cheeks, you’re mine.”
The possessive sort of growl that makes up the last word sends a chill straight through me. This game of cat and mouse is starting to make me sick. A floorboard from upstairs creeks and instinct takes over. “But you have to earn it, doll face, no fun if it’s guaranteed.”
I force myself to stand on shaky legs. He could be in the house. Billy and Stu had no trouble getting in last night, but Billy already knew about my window. My breaths are too shallow as I reach the kitchen, stealing a knife from the block on the counter.
“You know,” I start, trying to sound braver than I feel, “A lot of times final girls kill the slasher.”
Another sharp chuckle. “I’m glad I picked you.”
Footsteps are coming from the stairwell. I grip the knife’s handle, trying to force myself to walk towards the stairs. “You won’t feel that way forever.”
“Feisty,” the voice either growls or groans, I can’t tell.
My skin crawls as the steps from the stairs sound closer than ever. I hold the knife out in front of me with shaking hands.
“Y/n, I--” Billy stops in front of me, holding his hands out in front of him. “I just wanted to tell you that I knew the movie because they printed it in the newspaper. It was in the VCR when the police found you and they listed it in that article where they listed everything that was in Casey’s living room.”
There was that one article that over analyzed everything about what was in Casey’s house. They even listed the lipglosses Casey was showing me and a bottle of opened nail polish we left out. The explanation paired with the fact that the person on the other line is still there leave my head spiraling.
“Billy?” He’s probably so mad at me and I-I just--how did we end up here? I drop the knife, letting it hit the ground.
“I leave your friend alone and you thank me by ignoring me?” The voice on the other end of the line snaps me out of it.
After stuttering for a moment, I finally blurt out, “Leave him alone.”
“Protective,” the voice muses, “Careful, baby doll, I might get jealous.” Before I can get myself to speak again, the line goes dead.
Billy’s the one that knocks me out if my panicked trance. He delicately places a hand on my shoulder. I can’t breathe. I don’t think I’m crying until my vision turns blurry. He tugs me towards him, placing a hand on my back. He rubs my back soothingly. “You’re okay.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, my voice hoarse, “I’m so sorry, I--”
“It’s okay,” he whispers, letting me hug him tightly, “It’s okay.” Billy pulls me away just enough so that I can look him in the eye. “We’ll call the police and figure it out, okay?” I nod, but make no move to let go of him.
----
Taglist: @cole22ann @womenarecannibals @fand0mskullfa1ry @princessleah129 @i-amnotokaywiththis @fvcking-gxddess @suckmyass-things
----
A/n things were getting a little too nice and i had to remind y’all hehe
#scream#scream x reader#screa 1996#billy loomis#billy loomis x reader#stu macher#stu macher x reader#ghostface#ghostface x reader#poly!ghostface#poly! ghostface x reader
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