#what tommy felt was more envy honestly Tumblr posts

[god-i-hope-so]

I'll take Tommy voicing his "jealousy"* 100 times and being good at communicating his personal frustrations instead of a guy who'd say nothing.

Tommy is showing a healthy way to communicate how he feels about Buck and what's in his life. So far it's never been in a fight but in a casual conversation, safe and respectful. We know what men not talking about their feelings does. It's catastrophic, for them and for people around them. The violence it creates is insane, and we all know that.

Haters will use that against him, of course they will. But Tommy probably learned the hard way that keeping your feelings unsaid is one of the worst things you can do to yourself and people you love. Showing this on TV in this kind of show is so important.

Once again Tommy's character is used to portray an adult man who wants to do good. He's open but has his own boundaries, he's respectful and follow cues when the other person seems hesitant, and he doesn't hide what he feels because not only he knows it's good to talk about it, but it creates a relatable moment. Now Buck knows he can talk about his family's situation with Tommy, he knows he can safely open up to him. He'll understand and will listen.

[lolasimms]

Hi, love your writing! I saw that ur requests are open, could you do one that reader and Ellie meet for the first time at a wedding, Ellie just being really interested and flirty and reader being initially shy but warms up to her, just them having laughs and just cutesy 😭

when you know, you know

Inspired by ‘Margaret’ by Lana Del Rey

Ellie wasn’t the type who enjoyed large scale social events, so weddings were out of the question for her. She was lucky enough to have Joel as a parent growing up, as he felt the exact same when it came to such events.

This however couldn’t be avoided, Maria’s younger sister was getting married, meaning the two of them had no way of rain-checking. Seeing as she’d made them RSVP and save the date months prior to the wedding.

Ellie honestly couldn’t fathom the thought of sitting through an entire wedding reception. She’d contemplated on lying to Maria, telling her she had a big exam coming up, was swamped with assignments, had a surprise test, but no. Joel refused to attend without her. If he had to suffer through it, she had to as well.

So here she was, dressed in an old tux she’d found in her friend Vic’s closet, a navy tie she’d nicked from Joel and a glass of water in hand. Because she knew if Maria spotted her drinking she’d be dead, Joel honestly didn’t care that much, as long as she paced herself.

Sober and Alone, she was at a table watching as guests danced obnoxiously on the main floor, the bride and groom waltzing away while looking disgustingly in love and Joel and Tommy standing by the bar, whiskeys in hand. She envied them, if she could at-least have a glass she’s sure this event would be somewhat tolerable.

Too bad for her, because she knew how Maria got about these things, she’d get her “first drink” in a year and a half. Having had enough of the overly sweet displays of affection on the dance floor Ellie made her way to the bathroom to kill time.

She made her way out of the bathroom, washing her hands with the lavender and honey soap from the dispenser when a girl a few inches shorter then her came up to the sink besides her. Ellie didn’t want to get caught staring so she took a peek through the mirror. Immediately her cheeks warmed up.

She wore a baby pink dress with floral details, glowy makeup and gave Ellie the sweetest fucking smile she’d ever seen. Immediately Ellie felt the swarm of butterflies twirl throughout her stomach. Who were you to make her feel so flustered? She knew she needed to take a shot with you, the worst you could say was no.

“Groom or Bride’s side?” She asked, as you took a tube of lipgloss out of your clutch and applied some to your lips, suddenly turning at her question.

-

You knew your god-brother was getting married this year but you weren’t entirely sure when. So when your parents had called you two weeks prior to the wedding you had scrambled to find an outfit and get your assignments done before the date.

You didn’t exactly enjoy being social but seeing your god-brother so in love with his bride, the two family’s coming together and the general bliss flowing through the room you knew it was worth it. What you didn’t expect to see was the girl from your media studies class.

You’d caught sight of her sitting with who you’d assumed was her father, she was glaring at nothing the entire time, making you laugh a little. She wore a black tux, filling it out nicely and to be honest you couldn’t stop staring at her.

Honestly you’d been crushing on her for a while now. You doubt she’d noticed you in class, seeing as she was almost always late and if not she was interrupting the professor with an odd or borderline mean comment.

Here you were in the stall of the bathroom, relieving yourself when you heard someone enter the stall next to yours. As you made your way out you were pleased to see just the person you had on your mind washing her hands at the sink by yours. You were even more pleased when she’d asked you a question.

-

“Uh, groom’s side. He’s my god-brother.” She placed the lipgloss back into her clutch and smiled at Ellie.

“Good, that’s good.”

“I just mean it’s good that you aren’t actually related to the groom, would make it weird for when we get married.” Ellie smirked as soon as she saw the shocked expression on your face, she found it so fucking cute.

“You’re funny Ellie.” You said shyly, and she was taken aback that you knew her name.

“Have you been stalking me or what?” She jokes, crossing her arms and tilting her head, though she’s genuinely curious as to how you knew her name.

“Um we’re in the same media studies class.” You shake your head, looking at your feet. She immediately stills, embarrassed that she hadn’t remembered you, let alone your name.

“I feel like an absolute douchebag right now, can I make it up to you?”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

-

“Where have you been?” Joel asks as Ellie approached the table, you trailing behind her.

“That’s my business dude.” She motions for you to sit and you take the seat next to hers.

“Joel this is Y/n, Y/n this is Joel.” Ellie waves her hands, introducing the two of you.

“Nice to meet you Joel.” You give an awkward smile and he nods in acknowledgment.

“Nice ta meet ya Y/n.” His accent is southern, and his hair salt and pepper. From the way he looked and Ellie calling him by his first name you started to think maybe she was adopted.

“So, how do you two know each other?” He shifts looking over to you and then Ellie.

“We don’t, but we’re in the same media studies class.” Ellie says.

“She as much of a handful at school as she is at home?” Joel smirks, tilting his head, Ellie simply huffs and rolls her eyes at him.

“She’s okay, she asks a lot of questions.” Ellie leans over whispers into your ear and immediately you tense up at her words. You turn to look at her and for a second the both of you are stuck in time.

Looking into each others eyes, though it had only been an hour you already felt a connection. Joel cleared his throat, uncomfortable by the display of affection and made his way across the room to his brother.

“You wanna get drunk?” Ellie asks as she strokes your cheek.

“I’d love to but we can’t.” You smile, knowing there was no way the bartenders would serve alcohol to you without ID.

“Just wait here and smile.” She pats your shoulder and shuffles to the bar.

-

“How did you manage to score these?” You quietly giggle, the two of you still sitting at her family’s table as you sipped on vodka raspberry’s.

“Told them my wife and I would like two vodka raspberry’s and they fell for it.” She smirks as she leans in closer to you and you immediately take another sip, afraid you’d embarrass yourself if she looked at you that way any longer.

“You’re using that marriage thing to your advantage, huh?” You smile, looking up at her with those cute siren eyes, making her blush.

“I sure am, just means I’ll have to make it happen one day in the future right?”

“Let’s make it past the first date before we start talking about marriage Williams.”

[thesolferino]

Power(less)

⤷ smp!dream x gn!reader.

⤷ genre: angst, soulmate au

⤷ word count: 3.7k

⤷ requested: yes, by this lovely anon!

— summary: you pay a visit to the man you hate most when he exiles your brother/best friend, tommy

If there’s one thing you were sure of in this pathetic, despicable life of yours, it was that you hated Dream.

Honestly, how couldn’t you? He ruined everything you stood for, stomped over all of your plans for a hopeful future before you even started, never let you and your brothers build your life the way you wanted, because he had always been, and always will be, a selfish, narcissistic bastard. No matter how much you tried to negotiate, how many times you cried behind those walls because you knew you’d never be left alone, how many times you begged and pleaded Wilbur to let it go, let it all go, let Dream win because he’ll win every single time, no matter how many times the three of you try to stop him, he never gave up on making your life a living hell.

Despite the fact that you’d spent countless nights up, tossing and turning in your bed, wondering if life like this was really worth it if you’ll forever live in fear, if you can’t leave your window open at night without fear crawling up your spine that maybe, just maybe, he’d throw a bomb inside and kill you in your sleep - despite the fact that you always wondered if maybe you should flee, and never look back - you were one of L’Manburg’s proudest and strongest soldiers, at least for the time when the country was exactly what you built it to be. 

You waved your country’s flag and sung the anthem with equal pride, and you always stood right by Wilbur and Tommy’s side, chin high in the air, stance unwavering in the presence of Dream and those who stood by his side, always ready to show him what L’Manburg citizens were really made of. You shot best with your special crossbow - Wilbur had always complimented you on your eagle’s eye, and while you were built for a battle like the one Dream and Tommy fought for the prize of L’Manburg’s independence, Tommy was far too loud, confident, and forever blinded by his own vanity to have you fight it instead. 

Of course you’d let Tommy have it, despite being aware that he’s far too cocky, beyond his abilities, and that you’d handle it much more swiftly, because he felt the obligation to; because he wouldn’t give in and let you do it. Two sides of you chewed you away to insanity, because Tommy was your favorite - both you, and Wilbur’s - and while you wanted to let him have it, wanted to let him have the title of #1 soldier and have it his way, you also didn’t want him to get beaten by Dream, because you were sure it was going to happen. As much as you despised the man and everything he stood for, you had to admit that he was one hell of a warrior, and quite good with a crossbow.

That’s why, when Tommy got impaled by the arrow, you were the first to run up to him amidst all of Dream Team’s cheers, nursing supplies already out, (Dream had asked if you were so insecure in Tommy’s skills that you brought those along in preparation or if you were so confident that you had brought them to nurse him, instead; Wilbur had to physically hold you back from pouncing on him with the sword strapped to your back) slowly plunging the arrow out of his stomach and assuring him he’d be fine, that his well being meant more than a thousand L’Manburgs did. Dream missed none of your soothing murmurs and the worrying glances you shot to a boy no less than your brother, whether by blood or not, and he chose to turn his back, celebrating another victory. 

He couldn’t look away, though. No matter how hard he tried, his gaze always flew to the two of you.

What did it feel like - to be cared for? He’d have to ask Tommy, or Wilbur - what does it feel like, to have a chunk of your heart? What does it feel like to have you stare at him with flames in your eyes, but flames lit by adoration, and not by resentment? What does it feel like, to have you on his side?

Truth be told - he tried. He tried, he really did. When you first walked into his land, a traveller, somebody from beyond his sight, a fresh pair of eyes with a fresh perspective, he tried to befriend you, because even if he didn’t want to, it seemed like everything in this world brought the two of you together. He always ended up close to you, next to you, observing how you laughed, how your eyes crinkled, how your brows furrowed, how you tapped your fingers when you were bored and swung your legs back and forth when you sat on a wall too high for you. 

One thing you didn’t seem to care for, however, was Dream’s best attribute, and that was power. You didn’t care that he held all land on the palm of his hand, you didn’t care that he appointed and laid off whoever and whenever he pleased, you didn’t care that all looked up to him - you didn’t care that he was most powerful. 

He wasn’t the only one with the power, though. Power comes in different shapes and sizes, and a bold man is a powerful man. A man who stands out holds power, and the two who always stuck out like a sore thumb were Wilbur and Tommy. Because physical strength or resources aren’t always what make a man powerful - an entertainer is a powerful man, an intelligent man is a powerful man, a witty man is a powerful man, but above all, a courageous man is a powerful man. And Wilbur and Tommy were all of the above.

He envied Tommy, because Tommy knew how to get the attention on himself without the use of power. He envied Wilbur, because he had somebody to fight, he had something to stand for, he had a purpose, something in which he could put equal part bravery and intelligence in, both of which he had plenty. He envied the two, because they could be heroes, because he was there to witness their story getting built, while Dream was there from the beginning, and the only witness he had was himself. 

You grew close to the two of them before he even had the chance to try - his chance got wasted before he could even try, because the more Wilbur whispered into your ear and crafted plans, and the more Tommy encouraged you to go with the two of them, the less he saw of you and your shiny smiles. At first, it bothered him to no end, because he saw so much potential in you, both as a friend and as a warrior, and Wilbur just kept on stealing you away from him, over and over again. But then, when he saw you helping build those giant walls, and heard Tommy proudly announce that: “We’ve got Tubbo, Eret and Y/N on our side, too!” shiny smiles became dull, menacing even, to the point he didn’t want to look at them anymore.

And when the war had started and you proudly defended Tommy, no matter what, with an insane glint in your eye that he only recognised from reflections, he realised that the chance had fully, entirely slipped out of his fingers, and you’re nothing more than an enemy anymore. The opportunity to get you on his side was long gone, if it ever existed in the first place.

You were with them through everything, thick and thin - you were there when Tommy turned over the discs, cheering on Wilbur during the election, even retaliating against Schlatt once he revoked the citizenship of your two best friends, nothing short of brothers, and leaving with them, spitting on his shoes before running amongst a sea of arrows that were being thrown your way, escaping out of the country you built of your own blood, sweat and tears like a criminal, like a foreigner, like an outsider and not the very founder of the land they stood on.

You were always by their side, but that doesn’t necessarily mean you always agreed - you had gotten into way too many passive aggressive fights with Technoblade, told Tommy and Wilbur far too many times that he was nothing but trouble, told them that there is no more dangerous man than a man with power, and you thought they’d learned that lesson with Dream, long, long ago. But nonetheless, you stayed through it all - you stayed through the makings of Pogtopia, Henry’s unfortunate death, and the festival, at which you didn���t fail to shout “I TOLD YOU SO”s at Wilbur and Tommy despite being in a near-death situation. Technoblade suffered a kick in the groin, because you just couldn’t help yourself, which led you into a sword fight that was way more than you bargained for, and was ultimately stopped by Tommy who forgave Techno just to stop the two of you fighting, not looking forward to having your head cut off in front of him. 

You were there to see Wilbur spiral, breaking apart in the prison of his own mind, you were there to see the glint of heroism in his eye get bent into one of a villain, you saw him become the man he had once swore to you he’d never become. And perhaps, when you fought for L’Manburg again, deep down, you knew what would happen; but you still fought tooth and nail, desperate to get back what you once had. You fought next to Technoblade, even though both of you knew you hadn’t forgiven him, and you never will - you fought next to Wilbur, even though you knew he’s not the same Wilbur you once knew, even though you knew L’Manburg would never truly be L’Manburg again, because its founders aren’t the same as they once were, when their heart was full of foolish hope and love. 

You were there to see Wilbur mouth an apology to you, and even though you didn’t know what he would do, you knew that the apology wasn’t an apology, but a goodbye; at least a late goodbye to the Wilbur you once knew. You were there to see the betrayal in Tommy’s eyes when Technoblade turned against you, summoning monsters with his own hands, forcing the rest of you to kill them while he watched. You were close, so close, too close to putting an arrow through his heart, ready to get rid of him, tired of the tears and the blood you shed over getting back what was always rightfully yours; but you didn’t, because Tommy’s hand laid on top of yours, telling you not to do it. So you didn’t, and instead you aimed for the porcelain mask that haunted you in your dreams, the cause of all destruction. Unfortunately, you missed, with his foot jumping back right before the arrow was supposed to plunge straight through his chest, and you fell to the floor, defeated.

You were there when L’Manburg’s government formed again - you were there when Tommy burnt down George’s house on accident, and, unfortunately for you, you were there when your younger brother got exiled. You were there, watching him get escorted. You watched him leave. You watched that monster of a man escort him out, kick him out, away from you, from everyone he loved. You watched him, and gripped your crossbow with tears in your eyes, swearing to yourself that you’d never let him get away with this. 

That’s why you stomped into the Community House the next day, knife strapped to the inside of your thigh, sword fastened on your back, crossbow slinged over your shoulder, fire in your eyes, demanding to see him. And sure enough, as soon as you spoke his name, he was in front of you, cracked mask covering his face, dirty blonde hair combed, as if nothing had happened in the first place, as if he hadn’t made life a living hell for all of you.

“Hel-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” you cut him off, speaking through gritted teeth as you took a step towards him, heavy boots creating even heavier footsteps on the wooden floor. The mask remained expressionless as always, and his body language gave away nothing. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Dream? Is this funny to you? Are we some kind of sick joke to you? Is that what this is? Are you having fun, Dream?” you continued, almost spitting at him. “Take off that mask, talk to me like a fucking man.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he said, hand shooting to grip the porcelain at the mention of his mask, although he simply adjusted it slightly, still leaving it on.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. How could you kick him out?! He’s a fucking child, Dream! A child!” you yelled, hand clenching into a fist.

“Is this about Tommy? I’m sorry, Y/N, but it was not my decision. The people, and Tubbo, decided that he should be exiled- I just did my job.” he claimed, still stiff, expressionless, and you fired back almost before he even finished the sentence, rage lighting your whole body ablaze.

“Right, because you only have power over other people when it fucking fits you! You only have power when you want to! You’re only the most powerful person in this whole fucking land when you want to terrorise other people! What are you, Technoblade? Poor baby got succumbed by peer pressure? Miss me with that bullshit, Dream. You and I both know that if you stood up for Tommy, and refused to exile him, nobody would’ve done shit! But no, you chose to exile him, and you know that. So at least admit to your actions and don’t shift blame, asshole.” you spat, fury getting the best of you, and apparently him, too, because he pulled his mask off so quickly that the strings almost broke, menacing green eyes boring into yours.

“He shouldn’t have burned down George’s house, he shouldn’t have tried robbing George, he shouldn’t have been a criminal when he’s vice president of a country! All actions have consequences, and he has to suffer those consequences to learn!” he borderline shouted, defending himself.

“He’s supposed to learn by being exiled and ripped away from everyone he loves? That’s how he’s supposed to learn not to fucking rob people? He’s sixteen, Dream! Sixteen! He’s a fucking kid- yes, he makes mistakes, but so do we! And we’re adults! Full, grown, fucking adults. What has he done to you to deserve this, you fucking psycho?!” you yelled, and you briefly saw him grit his teeth, jaw clenching.

“I’m not a psycho and you won’t be calling me that. He can’t go unpunished for the crimes he committed. Tommy is not as innocent as you make him out to be. And, once again, this was not my decision, it was made by Tubbo. If you have any issues, take it up with him, not me.” his eyes go darker than they were before, mirroring a brewing storm with no glints of the sun anymore.

“Right, because you’re so innocent. You never committed any crimes! You’ve never done anything bad! Our favorite good guy, Dream. Never tried to kill any minors. Bless his heart.” you mocked.

“I don’t fight anybody unless they provoke me first. Every time I fought Tommy, I wished I didn’t have to.” 

“I really expected more from you, Dream, I really did. I expected you to at least fucking admit to your actions, at least give me a proper excuse as to why you haven’t left me and my brothers alone from the start even though we wanted nothing but to live in peace and independence, why you do so much of the fucked up shit you do, but I guess I expected too much from you. You’re nothing - even Technoblade is more of a man than you, you know that?” you asked, leaning on one foot lazily. You see his hand clench - someone’s getting mad. “Technoblade admits to his fucking actions. Technoblade has had his goals set from the start, he’s always made them clear, and even though he’s a dirty traitor, at the end of the day, it’s still your fault for siding with him. But you - you’re a liar. You’re a liar, and a manipulator, and you never play fair - you always play dirty and play with people’s emotions and that’s how you win.”

You continue: “That’s because you can’t win fairly. That’s because you lose when you play fair. You think you have power, but you don’t. You just play by a different set of rules than everybody else, and we let you. Power will turn a man evil, Dream, but you’ve been evil from the start. People will always fear you because you trick everyone into believing you’re far more powerful than you really are - but you know what people will do with me, Wilbur, and Tommy, that they’ll never do with you?”

Silence.

“They’ll respect us. And you are a man worthy of no respect.”

You unleash your sword, pressing the blade to his throat in a matter of seconds, ready to push it through with no preparation but he grips your hand before you can do it, and he’s about to speak, when your eyes dart to his, and suddenly, your vision blurs, a movie playing behind your eyelids without you closing your eyes at all. 

It’s almost like you see the events play out in the depths of his gaze - you see him, the real him, who stands before you, and you see his face mirrored in the scenes that play out, you see him staring right at you through some kind of screen, a smile plastered on his face. His features look softer, and his eyes don’t glint the same way they do now, but it’s not a bad thing; they look warm, homely. Something bursts in your chest the more you look at him, and it all goes by so fast, but you manage to somehow catch all of it. 

You manage to catch his warm smile just as the days pass in flying colors right before your eyes, you manage to feel heat spread through your chest when you look at the man before you, you manage to see him cooking, and laughing, and running, and driving, and crying, and sleeping, and kissing you and it all feels so odd but so perfect at the same time. You’re looking at Dream, but it’s not him - you call him a different name. You can make out the silhouette of the actual Dream, who still grips your wrist, behind the scenes of you and the man with a striking resemblance to him, and you wonder if this is happening to him, too.

You see him on one knee, at a beach, and you feel yourself crying even though you don’t know what’s going on. You see him in a field, and you can make out a man who looks awfully like Sapnap sitting on a plastic chair in the front row among many, wiping tears before your gaze turns back to Dream, who grins at you, dressed in a tuxedo. You see a young boy with blonde hair running around the house, laughing, while you try to catch him, and then Dream appears in front of you, picking the boy up before you could. You see his face wrinkle as the days pass, and you finally see him close his eyes one last time while tears run down your face uncontrollably, and the whole thing stops. The scenes disappear and you’re snapped back into reality, Dream’s teary eyes boring into yours. 

And that’s when you realise.

You harshly pull away from his grip, eyes wide in shock, putting your sword back in place as you shake your head in disbelief. The tears don’t stop flowing, and you can’t tell if it’s shock, horror, disappointment or betrayal - betrayal in who? Fate, you suppose. 

“N-No way. No way. No.” You keep shaking your head, voice trembling as you back away from him. He can barely collect himself, too, staring at you as if you’re not real, as if he’s seeing a ghost.

“We’re- no. Fuck no. Fuck this shit, dude.” You laugh dryly, no humor in it whatsoever, a mix of disbelief and fear still weighing down on your voice as he tries to step towards you, wiping the tears off his face.

“We’re- we’re soulmates.” He stutters, but manages to ground himself way before you do, gripping your wrist again, and you feel almost electrocuted when a spark shoots through your whole body at his touch. You pull away, again, stepping backwards, praying there’s no wall behind you.

“No.” you repeat like a broken record, not even bothering to wipe the tears. “No- I- there must be a m-mistake, this can’t be-”

“There’s no mistake, Y/N. You’re my soulmate.” He takes both of your hands into his, holding your fingers gently, and it takes all the power in your body not to burst out crying again. 

“Y-You’re no soulmate of mine.” you gulp, pulling your hands away once again, finally managing to somehow collect your thoughts. “Fuck you. I don’t care what- what we fucking are. I’ll never love you.” 

You see him visibly stiffen at your words, mouth parting, and you almost feel bad. Almost.

“You can’t- you can’t go against fate like that. We’re soulmates, Y/N.” He sounds hurt. You manage to convince yourself that you don’t care.

“Watch me do it.” You spit, anger recollecting in your gut once again. “Fucking watch me. Find yourself somebody else. I’ll never forgive you.” 

“Listen, I’ll bring Tommy back, just listen-”

“So now you can suddenly go against Tubbo’s orders? When it fits you? Fuck you. You don’t need to bring Tommy back, because I’m leaving with him. Him and Wilbur were more soulmates to me than you ever, ever will be.” 

And with one last glare in his direction, you turn on your heel, stomping out of the Community House, rage burning your whole body as he watches you leave. 

A powerful man needs those who will give him power. Watching you walk away, Dream realised that one day, he’ll have no one.

[jjkyaoi]

ASSUMPTIONS ABT YOUR FAVORTIE DSMP!CHARACTER

(yes, the majority of this is projecting, what about it)

C!WILBUR: lmaoooo i can smell the mental illness from a mile away, luv. you half were rooting for villbur because you thought it was hot, but also just ‘cause you wanted to see the explosions, and honestly, valid. you’re probably unintentionally the parent of your friends, and you’re also probably high strung and tense all the fucking time, calm down. you want to protect ghostbur w/ your life, but you severely miss the old wilbur as well— not a day goes by where you don’t think abt the pogtopia arc. “independence or death” is constantly playing in your head. the end of the finale arc— wilbur’s death scarred you more than anything else in this fucking smp, but to cope you make shitposts about it through your tears. please  get therapy 

C!TOMMY: you have ADHD.  half the time you’re just crying abt how tommy deserves better, and you want to thrown down w/ c!dream more than you’ve wanted to throw down w/ any character, ever. valid. you stan c!tommy ‘cause you relate to him and his experiences, but also because he acts a lot  like you and you don’t even fucking realize it. you’re probably the loudest in your friend group and constantly try to bring up the groups spirit, but also you’re extremely insecure and sensitive, and it takea a lot to bring your self esteem up— same, but jesus christ. you’re probably obsessed w/ wilbur and tommy’s relationship more than you should be, and you’d do anything for them to just interact again.

C!TUBBO: you’ve definitely went through a bad friendship breakup in the past, or just generally half trust issues. did i mention that you’re the most nervous person to ever walk the earth? you’re the type of person who pushes people away whenever you’re too busy w/ something / gets overstressed w/ something you think you need  to do that you just end up unintentionally ruining friendships. also, you’re shit at texting, i can just smell it. you lowkey felt annoyed at how c!tubbo wass treated in the beginning of l’manberg, and you’re a dadschlatt stan— daddy issues who? you’re ignoring the festival. but, you’re also torn between wanting captainsparkles to be his dad-- infinite dads.

C!NIKI: half the time you’re the sweetest person in the world, but also holy shit  im afraid of you. you’re the friend that’s either protected by your entire friend group, or you’re the big sibling who’s protecting everyone. you’re quiet most of the time, preferring to be on your own, but you’re surprisingly really fucking good in an argument? you’re constantly upset that niki isn’t getting more time to development as a character, and schlatt’s character frustrated you as much as it did niki— you’d do anything to fucking thrown down w/ him.  i feel like people go to you for advice and you’re the therapist friend, but you do not  know how to handle your own emotions. mood

C!FUNDY: lmaoooo, alright kinnie. honestly, beforehand you probably thought that wilbur and fundy’s relationship was cute before you realized how awful it was, and mood. you want nothing more than good things for this boy, but he constantly gets slapped around and you’re constantly in tears. you’re in denial of what happened at the wedding— fundywastaken is canon in your mind. ,,,,are y’all,,, are y’all okay? i feel like y’all are lowkey intimidating to talk to, but in reality you’re just a socially awkward nerd who thrives  off info dumping on your interests but you’re so used to being overlooked that you’re hesitant. though, you’re definitely petty and are always ready to prove your point in an argument— stubborn as fucking hell, alright. how’s those daddy issues?

C!SCHLATT: i’m torn between laughing at you, and genuinely being concerned for your mental health. you’re definitely the fucking cryptid of the friend group; the one that’s mostly silent but whenever you do speak it’s some wack fucking shit, what do you mean. you’re a lesbian. you’re just—you’re a fucking lesbian. you cover up how you feel w/ a tough bravado but you’re really not, and the slightest things— even if they’re jokes, hurt you deeply and you keep them inside you for years. a lot of repressed rage. you have essays in your drafts about how schlatt wasn’t that bad of a person, and i want them right fucking now. you also miss wilbur and schlatt’s dynamic

C!QUACKITY: hello simp. you’re torn between simping for him, or feeling extreme gender envy. you’re definitely fucking funny— you’re the comedian friend of the group, but you don’t even have to try. did i mention a raging bisexual? you’re a blue gay, through and through. you’re extremely stubborn and set in your opinions, and you’re always willing to go on an hour long debate w/ someone. i feel like you’re extremely protective of your friends as well. you’re in love w/ quackity’s arc rn and you’re frustrated that nobody’s really paying attention to it, because snapping after everything he’s been through is what he deserves in your mind. you have abandonment issues and are unheathily attached to his dynamic w/ karl

[footballxposts]

Sleeping With The Enemy - Jack Grealish Series❤️‍🔥 (Chapter Two) Curiosity

Warnings: just some more sexual tension for now hehe but y’all better be ready for the next few chapters cause god damn 🥵

Recommended listening: Dangerous Woman by Ariana Grande (Slowed).

Quick A/N: if you can’t understand Scottish slang a will translate for you in the comments

Taglist: @storyofavengers @hotyeehawman

——————————————————————————

The rest of my first day working in Aston went much better than I had initially expected. We only had a few minor injuries so I spent most of my time just going through all the players files, mainly looking over their medical history and current rehabilitation plans. That being said, I found it so hard to concentrate as the only thing I could think about throughout the entirety of it was Jack’s words. They were etched on my mind like the winner of a tournaments name being engraved on a trophy. I was extremely thankful Alan had came back into the room when he did, because I really had no idea how to respond to Jack’s comment and to be quite honest, I wasn’t really sure I wanted to.

Now arriving back at Bodymoor Heath training grounds for what was going to be my second day, I tried my best to find a parking space. Spotting one, I positioned my car and took the keys out of the ignition. Just as I was grabbing my things so as that I could make my way into work, I noticed a familiar face walking across the car park and quickly ducked my head so that he wouldn’t see me. But he did. And instead of walking towards the building’s entrance, Jack Grealish was now headed towards my car.

He lightly tapped the window as I pretended to look for something. Giving me space to open the door he quickly stepped away. My heart was nearly beating out of my chest. What did he want? I’ll tell you what I wanted. I wanted to avoid him as much as possible so I wasn’t put in another awkward situation with him, but he really wasn’t making it at all easy. Stepping out and closing the door behind me, he began walking beside me.

“So how’s my girl Ella this fine morning?” he asked, his eyes watching me every step I took.

“Your girl?” I questioned back in a slightly nervy manner, trying to speed up.

“Come on, you know what I mean.” he teased, a smirk now spreading across his face.

“Uh no actually I don’t, because we’re not friends Jack.” I sighed, attempting to pull the door of the premises open but he had got there before me and was now holding it out wide for me.

“Oh really?” he raised his eyebrows in response. “What are we then?”. I hated to admit it, but his accent was honestly so damn attractive too, though I wanted to believe I only thought so because I had watched too much peaky blinders and he reminded me of Tommy Shelby. Standing in front of me and stopping me in my tracks to prevent me from moving any further, I gave him one of those ‘seriously?’ glares.

“Nothing.” I stated. “We’re just work colleagues. That’s it. Just two professionals getting on with their morning, or at least I’m trying to but someone is in the way.” His reaction was comical. Lightly scoffing with a small chuckle, he took a step closer to me, almost closing the distance between us. I was shaking like a leaf internally. He honestly made me so nervous, as if my anxiety didn’t already do a good enough job of that. I gulped as he parted his lips and got the final word in.

“Maybe.” he began. “But I’m hoping to change that sometime soon.” Giving me a smug wink, he moved out of the way and began walking down the corridor the opposite way. I stood there for a few seconds, which felt more like minutes, trying to process what he had just said. He was a very attractive man, and there was no denying it. But was he actually being serious? Only my second day here, and he’s already hitting on me like I’m a piece of fresh meat. Was this what he done with every new girl that started working here? And how many other females in the vicinity was he currently doing this with? Did he just think every girl would fall at his knees and give him what he wanted? And what made him assume I would? Or that I even wanted to? Feeling slightly nauseous at all thoughts and questions now racing through my mind, I shook my head and made my way to my section of the workplace.

A few hours had gone by of assessing more injuries and whatnot, and before I knew it, it was now lunchtime. Making my way to the canteen, a friendly face appeared beside me, this time being one I was more than happy to see. It was midfielder John McGinn, who I had had in the clinic earlier on that morning. He and I maintained a good conversation about various different things, mainly about Ireland and Scotland’s relationship. Now holding the door open for me, he perked up.

“Hello.” he smiled softly.

“Oh John, hi, everything alright?” I beamed back at him.

“Aye yeah no a wis just wondering if you wanted tae come have lunch with me since your friend isn’t in today and you probably don’t want to sit with Alan and stuff?” he asked with a strong Scottish accent and a hopeful look on his face. He was referring to Samantha, the girl I had met yesterday who worked as a nutritionalist. She had told me how happy she was to have a female the same age as her working at the grounds to and offered for me to come sit with her at lunch, to which I accepted but she had took a sick day today meaning I would probably have to sit and have lunch by myself.

“Oh okay, yeah.” I replied, “Thank you, that would be nice.”

The little grin that spread across his face as he opened the canteen door for me was the cutest. “Great, no problem.” he responded as I began to enter the large dining hall. We made our way over to the food court to get something to eat. Joking and laughing, I was caught in my tracks by a very serious looking Jack, who was now staring at us from where he was seated at one of the tables. Ignoring him, I diverted my attention back to the lunch lady who was placing my vegetarian lasagne back on my tray.

“Oh, sorry thank you.” I said, expressing my gratitude and moving on to get a drink at the end of the counter.

“Vegetarian huh?,” John raised his eyebrows at me.

“Umm yeah aha, I kinda have been for the past seven years or so.” I chuckled.

“Kinda? Whit ya mean by kinda?” He questioned.

“Well.” I began. “I eat chicken, but I don’t eat any other meat or poultry.” Giving me the biggest look of judgement he could muster up, he began to crack up. “No way! Are you serious?”

“Yeah, I know I know. It’s a bit of a weird one to be honest but it is what it is.” I muttered shyly.

“Naw naw, each to their own am no saying anything. But isn’t there a name for that itself?” he queried.

“Yeah pollotarian, but everytime I say that everyone tells me it’s not at real thing and I’m a nutcase and stuff. Besides, a pollotarian is supposed to eat all poultry and I don’t.” I answered, as we sat down at a free table.

“Aye well a canny say a dinnae agree with them.” he teased as the two of us broke out laughing. John was so sweet and wasn’t unattractive either, but even when it came to him I wanted to remain strictly professional. Jack’s eyes were still fixated on us with what I could only assume was jealousy and envy growing in them. Having enough, I watched as he forcefully stood up out of his chair and walked away out of sight.

“What’s his deal?” I asked John who now had a forkful of spaghetti in his mouth. “Who? Grealish?” he replied as soon as he had swallowed it. Nodding anxiously, he rolled his eyes and giggled again. “Ah, Jacky-boy, whit can a say? Serious baller, great hair, great legs. But a flirt and a wee heartbreaker anaw.”

“Oh really, how so?..” I lamented.

“Ah, it’s no really for me to say sorry darlin, but am sure one of his previous conquests could fill you in if your paths cross. He’s no a bad guy, just done some silly things if you get me? How come you’re asking anyways?” he interrogated, nudging me with his elbow.

“Oh I was just wondering..” I trailed off.

“Naw, no way. Has he already tried tae make a move on you?”, an amused look now appearing on his face.

“Not exactly, but I think he’s planning to try to.”

“Aye right a see. Well, word to they wise, as much as a love Jack, if you’re looking for something serious, he’s no the way to go about getting it. A wid focus on your work if a were you.”

To indicate that I understood, I nodded slowly. But why did part of me also feel slightly disheartened and disappointed? I kept trying to remind myself that Jack Grealish was the ultimate no go; not only because I had only started working here and I wanted to keep everything strictly professional, but also because I don’t think I could every forgive myself, let alone my country or the world if they knew. He was supposed to be the enemy. Well, not so much the enemy, but the traitor and rival. However, there was just something about him that made me want to do so many things that I know shouldn’t.

After finishing lunch, I said goodbye to John and set about returning to the clinic. As I exited the canteen door, I felt an arm grab me and pull me into an empty office. Struggling to make out who it was initially, the smell of cologne mixed with sweat that was becoming overly-familiar helped me to quickly register.

[weaselbeaselpants]

Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism;  the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would  unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day,  but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with.  Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa.   It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton.  Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

[bubbleweirdo]

Alegría

Chapter: 5/?

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Summary: A wild night for Joy.

Words: 2.917

Main relationship: Javier Escuella/OC

Other relationships: Charles Smith/OC, Arthur Morgan/OC

Characters: Van der Linde gang

Author's note: Hi, I'm back... For now, at least lmao

While trying to write chapter 6 I realized I never posted chapter 5 and that... maybe... it was time to do it................. Anyways, hope y'all find it enjoyable!

The same day she and Javier returned from the stage robbery, Dutch arrived at night with a boy riding behind him. Joy was on duty when The Count appeared with the two men on top of him. After greeting her, Dutch took him to the entrance of the camp, where they both dismounted. She followed them with her eyes curiously, but immediately focused back on her task. However she could hear from where she was how Dutch presented him to the others: Leonard Summers -“But you can call me Lenny!”-.

The next day after lunch, Dutch called her to his tent, where the newcomer was too.

“Miss Joy, would you be so kind as to take Mr. Summers into town? And by the way help him choose a good mount, I know you have an eye for it.” He asked with a charismatic smile.

“Sure, why not?” She replied looking at the guy. “Let’s go?”

“Uh, sure, let’s go.” He said with a kind smile.

Joy walked over to where the horses were grazing looking for Berry, who was rubbing her head against the body of Old Belle, Karen's mare. Before guiding her to the beginning of the road, she walked over to the Nokota and patted her on the neck. Once there she mounted and held out her hand to Lenny, which helped him up.

They trotted through the grove that led to the main road and headed for the town.

“And what has Dutch seen in you, Mr. Summers?”

“He saw me running away from bounty hunters and helped me avoid them. After that we talked, and well, here I am I guess.”

“Sounds like Dutch.” She chuckled.

“I’m very grateful. Since I was fifteen I’ve been alone, running from one place to another.”

“How old are you now?”

“Eighteen.”

Joy turned her head and looked at him, incredulous. It had seemed to her that he was at least twenty, like Sean or Mary-Beth.

“What?! That young?! I thought you were older.”

Lenny laughed out loud.

“That flatters me.”

“Now I feel like I'm babysitting.” She said playfully.

“That’s rude Miss Joy!” She burst out laughing and kept teasing him along the way. He was complaining but seemed to be having fun too. They arrived at the town stable and asked the stable keeper to show them his horses for sale. After taking a look at each one, Joy selected two: a grey Kentucky Saddler and a palomino Mustang.

“These babies are in great shape and look pretty sweet.” She said, stroking the face of the first. “I think you could use a horse like that, affable.”

He watched them both thoughtfully.

“I think I will keep this one.” He decided, pointing to the Mustang. The man nodded and while he went to look for the mare's documents his assistant began to prepare her to saddle and bridle her. When he returned, she was ready and Joy paid the corresponding amount while Lenny kept the papers.

“What are you gonna call her?” She asked once they were out.

“Maggie, I think.”

“Suits her. As sweet as her.” She smiled.

“Will you accompany me to the general store? I want to buy chewing tobacco. Then we can have a drink. He said walking towards the establishment.

“Okay!” The two of them entered the store and while Lenny picked up the box, Joy peered through the products. A fishing rod caught her attention. It looked consistent and was definitely in a better condition than the one Tommy used. He didn't complain about it but many times when she accompanied him to fish she could see how the reel wasn’t working exactly as it should. She remembered that it would be his birthday soon, maybe she could give him one. She had enough money to afford some of the more expensive ones but she didn't have much idea of which one would fit her brother better so she decided that she would ask Javier to accompany her when she went to buy it, he had more idea about that.

Lenny paid and they both headed for the saloon. There were quite a few people and a man played a happy tune on the piano. They ordered their drinks and sat at a table to talk.

“So you like horses?” He asked her, drinking from his glass.

“Yeah. My family used to have quite a few, we would sell them at Valentine's and Strawberry's stables, but when my parents passed away I couldn't deal with so many anymore so we just kept Berry. What do you like?”

“Reading, I guess. A lot of things can be learned.” Joy rested her chin on her hand.

“I envy you. I know how to read but it’s so boring…”

“That's because you haven't found one that you like.”

“Maybe. My mother started buying me romance novels when I was twelve and let me tell you, they were tedious. At first they were fine but when I grew up I realized that they were just absurd fantasies.”

“I heard they’re quite corny.” He commented.

“They are.” She huffed. “I suppose I am resentful because they put an idea in your head about what love is that in the end doesn’t match reality...” She took a drink from her whiskey.

“Hadn’t thought of that. Not that I have read any.” Lenny said with a shrug.

They continued talking for another couple of hours, they had gotten along well. Then Joy realized that a girl who was leaning against the wall behind Lenny kept looking at him. She was young, perhaps of his age, and had her brown hair half tied. It was clear from her gaze that she wasn’t exclusively interested in the money she could get out of him. She probably hadn't tried anything because Joy was there. She leaned across the table to whisper to him.

“Pssst. Pretty girl interested in you behind you.” He looked at her confused.

“What?”

“Good luck.” She rose from her seat and raised her voice enough that the girl could hear her well. “Sorry boy, I'm not interested in you, you're too young for me.” She sighed theatrically and walked away to the bar under the stunned gaze of her new friend. Out of the corner of her eye she could see how the girl sat in the seat that she had just left and began to talk to Lenny. He was nervous but she seemed to like that. After a while they both got up and went upstairs. Joy smiled to herself.

A man stood beside her at the bar. He was tall, because of how his clothes adapted to his body, he didn't seem very muscular, but neither was he untrained. His short black hair was slicked back but some strands fell on his forehead.

“Hello Miss.” He greeted her, fixing his green eyes on hers. Joy raised an eyebrow, amused. He was handsome.

“Hello Mister.”

“Can I invite you to a drink?”

“Sure. A whiskey for both of us.” She asked the waiter.

“I see that you have good taste.”

“So it seems.” She said raising the glass to her mouth without breaking eye contact.

“What would you say if after this you and I go somewhere else?” He asked doing the same. Joy almost choked on the question. Trying not to laugh, she replied.

“You are very direct, aren’t you?”

“I don't have time for games.” He said winking at her and shortening the space between them.

Normally going so fast would have been a reason to reject him, but it had been a long time since she had relationships and honestly? That man was very attractive. She drained the glass in one gulp and set it on the bar.

“Alright.” She agreed, walking out the back door of the saloon. There was nobody there. She turned to look at the man but he put her against the wall and kissed her passionately. She gasped when their tongues began to play with each other. He continued to kiss her neck, as he unbuttoned the buttons of her shirt and lifted the chemise, revealing her freckled breasts. He grabbed one eagerly and twisted her nipple, causing a moan in her. He pulled down her pants and bloomers and brought his mouth to her crotch. Joy sighed, anticipating the contact, but what she felt was... discomfort. The stranger used his tongue at full speed at her entrance, causing more discomfort than pleasure. She cursed in her mind, she had to stop him but she didn't want the meeting to end.

“Didn't you say you didn't have time for games? Fuck me!” She said between mock gasps.

“How rude. What do you say?” he replied, continuing whatever he was doing down there.

“Please! Please…!” -Please stop.-

“Well then…” He got up, quickly pulled down his pants, lifted Joy by the legs, and inserted his member into her. She welcomed him willingly, clutching at his shoulders as he rammed her faster and faster. The man, between grunts, pulled out to come. When he caught his breath, he lowered her to the ground and began putting on his clothes.

Joy followed suit, somewhat disappointed but not entirely dissatisfied. She wished she had an orgasm, but she had missed the feeling of being full of someone and had enjoyed it.

“It was good.” He commented.

“Yeah. Lucky that no one was here.” He smiled.

“Well, I’m leaving. Miss…” He said goodbye with two fingers to his forehead. She replied the same, amused and went back inside the establishment.

After an hour chatting with the bartender, she checked that Lenny was still with the girl -she asked her coworkers and also put her ear to the door of the room they were in to make sure- and decided that she wasn’t going to wait any longer for him, who knew when they would finish. Before riding Berry and heading back to camp, she stroked Maggie's neck. She couldn't help it, if she had a horse nearby she needed to pet them.

When she arrived Javier was on duty.

“Who’s there?”

“The joy of the house.” She answered dismounting.

“How come you are so late? And hadn't you go out with the newbie?”

“Oh, don’t worry, we went drinking and then we parted to have our own fun. And it seems he was having a greeeeeeat time.” She giggled and winked at him. Javier cleared his throat, uncomfortable. Weird. Normally he would joke back. Maybe he didn't like Lenny? “Anyway I was wondering if these days you could come with me to choose a fishing rod for Tommy, his birthday will be soon.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Thank you!”

Once at camp Joy changed her clothes, putting on her nightgown and loosening her two braids to collect her hair back into one only. Going to her bedroll, she noticed that her brother was still awake.

“How come you're not asleep yet?” She asked lying down facing him.

“I was worried you weren't coming back.” Joy smiled bitterly.

“I'm sorry I worried you.”

“I know you can defend yourself but... I'm afraid something like what happened at home will happen again.” Tommy confessed, his eyes watered.

“Oh, Tommy, my boy…” She kissed his face and when she pulled away she started stroking his hair. “I love you, you know that, right?” He nodded.

“Me too.” Joy smiled.

“How about I sing you a lullaby to sleep?” He nodded again. She cleared her throat and started:

“Hush, little baby, don't say a word,

Mama's gonna buy you a mockingbird.

And if that mockingbird don't sing,

Mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring.

And if that diamond ring turns brass,

Mama's gonna buy you a looking glass.

And if that looking glass gets broke,

Mama's gonna buy you a billy goat,

And if that billy goat get cross,

Mama's gonna buy you a rocking horse.

And if that rocking horse turns over,

Mama's gonna buy you a dog named Rover.

And if that dog named Rover won't bark,

Mama's gonna buy you a horse and a cart.

And if that horse and cart fall down,

You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town…”

And they both fell asleep.

Four days had passed and on the last one it had rained. Far from being uncomfortable, Joy had appreciated it. It was a hot summer and as soon as the first drops hit the ground they were very well received. The next day had stopped raining, but the smell of damp earth was still there, the ground covered in puddles. That's where the game started for her. After finishing all her tasks Joy looked for Tommy. He was behind the camp with Jack, drawing strokes on the ground with a stick.

She sneaked up from behind making a silent gesture to Strauss, who was sitting on a log doing the math and could see Joy's intentions perfectly. He only looked at her for a moment with a polite smile and turned his attention back to his work, ignoring her.

When she was close enough she flexed her knees and jumped into a puddle without any regard, splashing at Tommy and Jack.

“Hey!” the older boy yelled, falling forward in shock. Jack started to laugh and plunged into the puddle, jumping over and over. Tommy pounced on her and they started a fight, splashing and pushing each other.

“Stop! What are you doing?” Abigail exclaimed, hurrying over to them. Tommy stopped dead in his tracks and jumped up, straightening up.

“I’m sorry Miss Roberts.” He apologized, embarrassed. Beside him Jack had stopped jumping.

“Oh, come on Abby, we’re just having fun.” Joy said pouting.

“Y’all are getting dirty and that’s just more work for later!”

“Come on Abby!”

Abigail looked at her impassively. She sighed.

“Okay, help me up.”

As soon as she held out her hand Joy pulled her and dragged her along, staining her with mud.

“Joy Collins, you are…!” She screeched before splashing her. Joy laughed and Abigail followed suit, never stopping her attacks. Realizing that his mother had joined the party, Jack allowed himself to keep jumping and Tommy joined him.

They had made quite a fuss, and an authoritative hawk took them out of the game.

“Miss Collins, Miss Roberts, set an example for your children and clean yourselves immediately! We are a gang of outlaws, not one of savages.”

They both nodded and Grimshaw walked away to speak to Pearson. Abigail tapped Joy on the shoulder in a friendly way and stood up.

“Come on, we have to clean us up.”

They took spare clothes and soap and approached the river, moving away from the camp a little to have privacy. They cleaned themselves thoroughly and helped the children to do it as well. When they were done, the boys ran out to grab a plate of stew.

"Be careful!" Abigail warned them. She turned to Joy. "I must admit that I had a good time."

She smiled.

"That was the plan! We all need a moment of fun sooner or later."

"You’re right. Being a mother is difficult and even more so if there isn't..." She stopped and sighed.

“I understand.” She put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed gently. “If you need anything you know I’m here.” Abigail nodded and put her hand over hers before leaving.

“So mud fights, how mature.” Daniela said sarcastically.

“Yes, you should try, it's fun.” Joy replied with a smile, rolling her eyes.

“I pass. I prefer to see them. I liked how you fooled Abigail.”

Joy laughed. She picked up a plate of stew and sat next to her. Laughter drew her attention from the main fire. Javier was telling one of his adventures to Jenny. Since that conversation they had in the cabin, the two of them spent more time together. They had always been close but now they were almost inseparable. Joy supposed that he had decided to turn the page on his love from Mexico and start something with her. She was envious of how well they got along. She also wanted a relationship like that and she had long since given up hope with Mary-Beth, you could tell she only had eyes for men.

She sighed and Daniela giggled.

“What?”

“No, nothing…” She replied with a certain sarcasm. Joy eyed her suspiciously, but decided to let it go.

They continued talking quietly until Javier's voice caught their attention. He was still sitting by the main fire, Jenny was gone and he was singing in spanish.

“What do the lyrics say? Sounds sad.” Joy asked Daniela curiously.

“Oh, it is. He sings it once in a while. Talks about a man who feels betrayed by the woman he loves because she’s in love with another man.”

It wasn't difficult for Joy to understand why he sang that song. It wasn't so easy to get rid of those feelings even though he was now with someone else, she supposed.

“Sometimes I would like to know what his songs say.”

Daniela giggled again.

“Seriously, what's wrong with you?”

“Nothing, nothing... If you want to know what they say, I can teach you spanish.”

“Would you really do that?”

“Uhuh, why not?”

“Because right now you’re the most suspicious person I've ever seen.”

Daniela laughed out loud.

“Calm down bonita, I'm serious.” she held out her hand.

“Mm…” She looked into her eyes before shaking her hand. “Alright…”

“It’s settled then.”

[r3inventedd]

Scarlet (A Billy Hargrove Story)

Chapter 1

He had never been a big fan of red heads, especially since the shithead monkey came along, but he thought that color was hers and hers alone. It drove him crazy.

A huge thanks to @stevesscoops and @pedropoop for editing and offering some awesome advice!!!!! This is the first time I’ve posted anything I’ve written in years so please let me know what you think! More to come soon...

Man. It really pissed him off. Like it really pissed him off.

It was just so fucking annoying. How could she sit there like that for hours? Sit there and read in that dumb shithole that no one ever went into.

Better yet, how did she get paid to sit there for hours on end, barely moving other than to turn her page and take a sip out of the same mug she used every day? What a fucking loser, Billy thought to himself as he took a drag of his cigarette. It infuriated him, the way she sat there staring at books and listening to music through her Walkman. It’s probably that classical shit the nerds listen to, he mused with an acid laugh. It’s goddamn pathetic.

Billy’s pink lips pursed around a cigarette as he took a long drag. A look of complete distaste etched onto his slightly tanned face as he watched the oblivious girl from his bright blue Camaro. It had become an almost masochistic ritual for him as he sat, parked outside the town arcade waiting for the pet monkey he never wanted.

Max, the aforementioned monkey, had practically become obsessed with the arcade since moving to the shithole town of Hawkins, Indiana. So, every day after they were done with their respective school days, Billy was stuck taking her to and from the cesspool of middle school nerds. And since Max always found a way to be late, Billy had to wait in his Camaro with nothing better to do than watch the inhabitants of Hawkins.

The first few days consisted of him flicking his Zippo lighter open and closed as he openly ogled what the women of the town had to offer. With his curly blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, and a bad attitude, the women of the town happily let him look at whatever he wanted. Most guys would have gotten told off for such behavior, but Billy knew from the moment he laid eyes on Buttfuck, Indiana he would have it wrapped around his finger.

Eventually though, he grew tired of the “scenery” Hawkins had to offer. His cerulean blue eyes darted between the few other stores that lined the street until they settled on a girl with red hair, so dark it almost seemed purple.

She was sitting behind a counter on a stool that was clearly not made for comfort. One arm was supporting the weight of her head on the counter, while her other hand rested of the page of whatever book she was reading, poised to turn to the next. Billy couldn’t see what the book was, but he could tell by the thickness it had to be an exceptionally long book.

Licking his lips, his blue eyes combed over all that he could see. Her deep red hair was tossed to the side of her body that was resting on the counter, so he could see her face. It wasn’t anything particularly special, Billy decided. She was pretty pale, but so was everyone in November in the Midwest.

He could not make out much else since he was across the street and then some.

Billy strained his eyes that were covered by a pair of dark sunglasses so that he could see more details. He could tell that she was pretty small in height. The way the oversized turquoise sweater she wore engulfed her body proved that.

He craned his neck to make out some of her lower body but when he couldn’t, a sharp pang of annoyance shot through him. He pushed his sunglasses down his nose slightly to see if it would help his view. It didn’t.

Just as he was about to get out of his car to get a closer look, the passenger door of his prized Camaro opened and shut quickly, making him jump and his sunglasses fall into his lap.

“Fucking shit, Max!” He barked out with a sharp glare in her direction.

She muttered a low apology, gripping her skateboard tightly. “Lost track of time. I won’t do it again.”

Billy looked over at her the redhead in his passenger seat, taking a better look at her than he probably ever had. He never realized how different red hair could be, comparing his fake sister to the girl across the street.

Max looked at Billy’s contemplative face. It was a face she had never seen him make and that left her extremely unsettled. “I know you said 5 o-clock sharp, but I couldn’t see the clock,” coming up with any excuse to try to avoid whatever punishment she assumed he was planning.

Billy’s eyes shot to the clock on his dashboard that clearly read 5:50pm. Had he really been staring at that girl in the store for that long? He chanced another glance in her direction to find that she was still in the same position she had been in when he first noticed her.

She must have been completely focused on the book she was reading, completely unaware of the world around her. Billy immediately felt jealousy bubble up inside him towards her for being able to escape reality. Even her ability to sit still for that long of a time made him practically itch for another cigarette.

His hands were constantly on the go. If they weren’t holding a cigarette, they were playing with his lighter, combing through his hair, or tapping to the rhythm of a song, or finding their way onto the curvier parts of a woman’s body.

With a cough to clear his throat, he pushed down any feelings of envy and turned the key in the ignition.

Billy concluded that the girl in the storefront must have been a pretty big fucking loser to like books so much as he drove past the almost empty store.

But there he sat, months later, staring at the book worm with an oddly strong amount of contempt even for Billy. It had never taken much to get him to dislike a person, but this girl had never even looked his way. He had gotten closer over the past months, parking further and further away from the arcade and closer to the store.

He could now see that she had freckles dusted across her nose and on the top of her cheeks, a few others dusted over her forehead and chin.

Her eyebrows were a dark brown, making it clear that her purple, red hair was not natural. Green eyes contrasted brightly with her pale skin and artificially colored hair. Billy couldn’t decide how he felt about that. He tried to imagine the girl with a hair color other than that particular shade, but he couldn’t. He had never been a big fan of red heads, especially since the shithead monkey came along, but he thought that color was hers and hers alone. It drove him crazy.

For months he watched this girl read book after book in a store that he still did not know the function of. The name Whitman’s written above the glass windows gave away no hints either.

Billy still didn’t know her name either. At first, he just referred to her in his head as ‘the girl.’ Then ‘the loser.’ Then ‘the book loser.’ Finally, while he was watching hair shine in the strip of sunlight that penetrated the glass that shielded her from himself and the rest of the world, he decided that her name had to be Scarlet. Just like one of the characters in the X-Men comics he used to obsess over as a kid. A fact he would vehemently deny. Only geeky little shits like his stepsister’s new friends read comic books, and he certainly was not one of those. But Scarlet had to be, so the name stuck.

Billy knew that she had to be a complete social outcast. He never saw her outside of the small shop once. Something he found nearly impossible to be true in such a small town. Not to mention she did not look old enough to be out of high school, but he had never seen her in Hawkins High with the rest of the miserable teenagers in the town.

For a short time, he honestly thought Scarlet was a figment of his imagination. However, the theory was disproved when Max’s curiosity got the better of her and asked her stepbrother why he was always staring at the girl in the store. Naturally, Billy responded by shouting something along the lines of, “Stay out of my fucking business” and vague threat of what could happen if she didn’t.

That was the only time Scarlet had even been mentioned outside of his thoughts, but it was enough to assure him he wasn’tschizophrenic.

Billy thought about asking Tommy or Carol about her, but every time he thought about, something stopped him. He didn’t want anyone to think he noticed chicks like her. It really wasn’t his fault for noticing her anyways. With her hair like that, he told himself, she had to be looking for attention.

Though, it seemed that she never got it.

The familiar sound of Max climbing into the passenger seat signaled it was time to go. Without even acknowledging the young girl, he shifted the Camaro harshly into drive and sped towards his father’s house. Thoughts of Scarlet were discarded until the next day.

As Billy Idol blared from his speakers and the engine purred, he thought about what he would wear on his date that night with Michelle B… or was it Michelle R? Either way did not really matter to Billy. As long as he was satisfied by the end of the night and away from his father, he did not give a shit what the girl’s name was.

Unfortunately for him, later on that night Michelle A-Z gave quite a big shit when he moaned the wrong name.

They had been in the back seat of his car, parked on the edge of a field outside of town. She eagerly hopped onto his lap, doing her best to show him that she was better than every other girl in Hawkins. As she ground her hips against his, he moaned in pleasure, only thinking of putting his dick in something wet.

The next thing he knew, he was driving Michelle A-Z home as she went back and forth from screaming and crying about how her name was Michelle….. shit he still couldn’t remember. All he recollected was her saying through sobs that her name was definitely, unmistakably, irrefutably not Scarlet.

[insideoutstory]

Inside Out → Chapter Two

summary: Christine gets an unexpected visitor at work, and an even more unexpected invitation. word count: 5.9k warnings: second hand embarrassment, probably [ masterlist ]   [ FF.net ]

Saturdays at The Hawk were brutal. 

Christine just wanted to be able to enjoy her weekends, to kick back and relax like most of her classmates. But no. She’d decided to be responsible. She’d wanted to have pocket money. She’d wanted to continue her summer job and work weekends at the movie theater. What a dumbass idea that had been. 

She knew she shouldn’t complain. She had the opening shift today, which was a lot easier than closing late at night. But her body was still aching from sleeping on the floor, and she felt a bit queasy after gorging on pizza and soda. So she wasn’t in the most spectacular mood. 

A handful of people piled out into the lobby, laughing and chatting as they fled into the afternoon sun. Christine watched them go with envy. Then she grabbed her broom and headed into the musty darkness of the empty theater. 

She flicked the lights back on and began her cursory sweep of the aisles. There wasn’t too much damage. One forgotten sweatshirt shoved down in the seats, some inevitable popcorn collateral on the floor. Matinee shows were light on customers and light on damage. At least she wouldn’t have to break out the mop. 

For a moment she glared at the screen, where the credits of All the Right Moves were rolling for the third time that day. 

“Hey, Joey!” she called up to the projectionist booth. “Could you turn it down, please? Movie’s over, bud!” 

But it was no use. Joey was either asleep, or skiving off on his break until the next showing started in an hour. “Blue Skies Forever” continued to blare from the speakers, only adding to her current headache. Once or twice it sounded fine, but in a tiny theater that only ever showed one or two movies a month? She was starting to really hate that song. 

Christine had no choice but to tune it out and slip into her normal routine. After cleaning the theater, she took the garbage out to the dumpster in the side alley. After that, she did a bathroom check, cleaning the pools of soap and water off the counter and picking stray toilet paper off the floor. Another trip to the dumpster. And after she thoroughly sanitized herself and swept the lobby, it was back behind the counter to pop a new batch of popcorn for the next showing. 

She plopped back into her folding chair, cracking her neck and pulling her physics textbook from her backpack. They were just wrapping up a new unit in class, which meant there was another lab report due on Monday. She was almost done, but there were still a few things she needed to crosscheck before wrapping up her final confusion. 

She’d meant what she said to the girls the night before. She did like physics; she liked all science, really. It had always been her best subject, even before she’d moved to Hawkins. And she’d moved a lot as a kid. In her other schools, she’d been placed in special programs, advanced track classes that taught outside of the normal curriculum. But Hawkins was a small town, and a very small school. That’s how she’d ended up in “upper placement”—which was just a fancy way of saying she’d skipped a year in science. It had been tough at first, taking one class at the high school when she spent the rest of her day at the middle school, but they’d made it work. And honestly, it was her favorite part of the day. 

Christine was so wrapped up in her assignment that the first few times the door opened, she barely looked up. Joey was back from break, handling ticket sales at the door. No one was going to bother her unless they needed snacks, which most people snuck in anyway. She sold a few bags of popcorn, a few sodas, and went right back to her homework. Until the door opened again, and an all too familiar voice floated to her ears. 

A siren went off in the back of her brain, and Christine’s head snapped up faster than a rocket. 

There was Tommy H and Carol, arms slung around each other and leading the way into the lobby. It should have been Carol she heard first—with her loud voice and louder laugh. Carol demanded attention, demanded to be heard, even before she had anything to say. 

Tommy was just as bad, if not worse. He wasn’t as loud, be he always had his two cents to put in. Usually something aggressive or pervy. It was fascinating to watch him with Carol, though. They’d been going out for years, as long as Christine could remember anyway. They were so in sync it was almost unnerving, moving together like some sort of conjoined boss monster in a video game. 

Nicole followed behind them, a skewed reflection of Carol. She had the same bright red hair, the same sharp eyes, but she was stretched a little taller with curls that wouldn’t lie just right. She was quiet, even by normal standards, but it was the unsettling kind where you could tell she knew too much. Nicole knew how to tap into the best gossip in town, and she was observant to boot. That was part of the reason everyone wanted to be on her good side. The other part was her parents’ fancy lake house near Chicago. 

And right at the back, last through the door, was Steve Harrington. He pulled her attention like a magnet, chuckling lowly at something Tommy had said. Somehow his laugh carried all the way across the lobby. Or maybe she was just so familiar with the sound that her brain was filling in the gaps. He grinned at Joey as he bought his ticket, offering some small high five. God, he was just so pretty… 

And then they were moving toward her counter. 

Christine panicked, slamming her textbook shut before she realized that would have been the best excuse to pretend she hadn’t been staring at them. She hurriedly packed her things away, trying to make herself look busy and yet also available. It was rude to ignore them, but for some reason she couldn’t bring herself to acknowledge them before it was absolutely necessary. It felt like it shouldn’t be allowed. 

“Hey,” said Tommy, rapping his knuckles on the counter. Even though she’d known he was there, the sound still made Christine jump. “Four popcorns and four Cokes. And some Bottlecaps.” 

Carol snorted, and elbowed him in the ribs. “Please,” she added with a smile. But the expression was so predatory, Christine wasn’t sure if it made her feel any better. 

“Uh, yeah. Sure, just uh…” 

When the rest of the sentence wouldn’t come, she quickly turned her back on them. It took some self-control not to bury her head in the popcorn machine and wait for them to leave, but she did her best. She didn’t even spill any of the popcorn before it made it to the counter. She got all four Cokes, and even unlocked the candy compartment without a problem, all before Steve walked up to the counter. 

“Oh, hey Christine,” he said, peering down at her over the glass. “Shit, I always forget that you work here.” 

Christine looked up, dazzled by the very real smile Steve was sending her way. Words suddenly seemed very distant, so she stuck to nodding and smiling. She grabbed a box of candy and stepped up to the register, only for Tommy to snicker across from her. 

“Actually, I said I wanted Bottlecaps.” 

“Hm?” She stopped, looking down at the box of Gobstoppers in her hand. She was very lucky all the curse words she knew stayed inside her head. “Right. Sorry. Um…” 

Tommy, Nicole and Carol all giggled as she swapped out the candy, but Steve just kept on smiling. He even had the nerve to lean his elbows on the counter, running a hand through his hair, as if her job wasn’t already impossible to complete. 

Christine typed everything into the register and cleared her throat, but Tommy was already sliding her the bills. 

“Yeah, just keep the change.” 

“Uh, sure. Thanks, Tommy.” 

He winked at her, which was followed by another indelicate snort from Carol, and a half-hearted smile from Nicole. “See ya, Christine.” 

Tommy clapped Steve on the back as they grabbed their bags and headed for the door, but Steve waved him off. 

“No, go ahead. I’ll meet you in there. Go on.” 

And as if the situation couldn’t have gotten worse, Tommy grumbled as he and the girls proceeded into the theater—leaving Christine alone with Steve. She was painfully aware of how hot her face was, sure it was bright red under her blonde hair. Hair which was currently pulled back into a haphazard ponytail so it didn’t get into the popcorn, or stuck in the stupid clip-on bowtie she wore with her uniform. 

She took her sweet time arranging the bills in the cash register, if only to avoid Steve’s eyes. She hardly noticed that Tommy had shorted her on the bill. Not that there was anything she could do about it now, anyway. 

“Tough day?” Steve asked with a small laugh. 

It was amazing how much softer his voice was when he was alone—when it was just the two of them. It almost made it easier to look at him. He smiled encouragingly, his eyes earnest under that head of perfectly tousled chestnut hair. And Christine managed a shrug. 

“Not too bad.” 

“Cool, cool.” He nodded, and she watched as his hair bounced along. “I imagine it’s gotta be pretty sick working here. Free popcorn, free candy, watching new movies whenever you want.” 

“One movie,” she corrected with a tight smile. “On repeat. All day.” 

“What?” He gasped, his jaw dropping comically. “You mean you—you don’t want to watch All the Right Moves ten times a day? You—Oh. Oh shit. I think I better ask for my money back.” 

She did her best not to giggle. She failed instantly and horribly, and had to duck her head in case it made her look stupid. A hand covered half of her face, but when she looked up, Steve was smiling proudly. 

“Come on,” he said conspiratorially, and leaned further of the counter. “What is the absolute worst part about working here?” 

Christine bit her lip, willing herself not to look away. Casually as she could, she leaned forward on the counter, mimicking his posture. 

“Honestly? The cleaning. People are slobs, and they will find a way to spill anything you give them.” 

“Well that can’t be too bad, right?” he asked innocently. “It’s just some popcorn.” 

“Ha, no. It’s popcorn soaking in warm soda that’s been on the floor for two and a half hours.” 

Steve’s face wrinkled comically in disgust, and Christine had to hide her face again as she laughed. 

“Ugh, gross. Well, let me apologize on behalf of everyone in Hawkins, Indiana, for the…disgusting swamp you have to clean up every weekend.” 

“Very noble,” said Christine, shooting him a side glance. 

He puffed out his chest, raising a non-too-humble hand with a proud smirk that made Christine feel like combusting into flames. She tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and turned away to find a distraction. Without much hope, she grabbed a stray rag and began picking at stains on the counter. 

Still, Steve stayed planted where he was. He ran a hand over his hair again, and ducked determinedly into her line of vision. “So, how long are you stuck here for?” 

“Oh, I—uh…” She glanced at the wall and struggled to juggle some very simple numbers in her head. “Only another hour.” 

“Aw,” he said with the most adorable pout. “Guess you won’t be here when the movie gets out.” 

“Uh, yeah. They uh…they schedule us that way on purpose, you know. So that we’re not switching during customer rushes. It’s easier to leave when…yeah…” 

She was going to punch herself as soon as she got home. Why was she telling him this? Why was she still talking? 

“Smart move,” Steve said in amusement. “Well, I just wanted to thank you for all your help with physics. I mean, with basketball practice starting up and my parents on my case—I feel like I haven’t had time to breathe, you know?” 

“No, yeah I—I totally get it,” she assured him, nodding frantically. “It’s cool.” 

Somewhere in the back of her mind, Barb’s voice groaned in frustration. It was a weak excuse. He couldn’t find the time to write one paragraph for class? But then Steve turned his head, and his smile was so sweet that Christine forgot how to be angry at all. 

“God, I’m so lucky to have you as a lab partner,” he said, crossing his arms on the counter. “You’re like my saving grace in that class.” 

Her brain was stalling. She couldn’t think of anything to say, not while he was watching her so carefully. Instead she grimaced, awkwardly waving off his praise with the rag. He chuckled, and still stood there, grinning away. 

Christine wasn’t sure what made her do it. Maybe the voices of her friends in her head had gotten to loud, or the lack of sleep was catching up to her brain. But one minute she was twisting the rag in her hands, and the next the words were tumbling out of her mouth. 

“You know, if—if you think that you really need help in physics, I could always like…like, I don’t know, help you study or something. If you wanted. I mean, I know you have to keep your grades up cause of basketball, and your parents or whatever—or just in general, I guess, um…so if you ever wanted to meet at the library or something and…just go over some notes or reports or something, that…it could be…we could always do that…” 

It was a train wreck. She wasn’t sure she could have done worse if she was trying to bomb out. And there was absolutely nowhere for her to go. She was trapped behind the counter, completely at Steve’s mercy as he looked up at her with a Cheshire grin. He looked endlessly amused by her discomfort. 

“Sorry,” she said, taking a few steps back. “That came out wrong. I just meant that…” 

“No, no, no! It’s fine,” he laughed, waving his hands. “No, you’re…probably right, actually. I know I need to study more. My grades are pretty…yikes…” 

Christine bit her lip. She took the chance to peek up at him from under her lashes. “So…?” 

Steve considered her for a moment, running a thumb over his bottom lip. The fingers of his other hand drummed against the glass. It didn’t make her any less anxious. 

“Christine,” he drawled, narrowing his eyes at her. “When was the last time you took a break?” 

“A…A break?” 

“Yeah. It’s when you stop working and have a little fun for a change. You know? Fun?” 

He threw some jazz hands at her, and Christine rolled her eyes. “Yeah, thanks, Steve. I know what fun is.” 

“You sure?” he asked. “I mean, you’re a straight-A student, you’re in an advanced science class, weekends you spend all your time herding cattle here. As far as I can tell, all you do is work and study.” 

Christine crossed her arms over her chest. “I know how to have fun.” 

Steve raised his eyebrows. He was smirking again, challenging her, and it was enough to make her stomach twist into a pretzel. But she held her ground. She met his gaze evenly, and mirrored his defiant expression. It just made his smirk widen. 

“There’s a party tonight,” he said, breaking the standoff. “Jenny Fischer’s house, eight o’clock. Her parents are in New York visiting her brother, so it’s gonna be rad. You should come. Let loose for a change, bring some friends.” 

“I should…?” 

She could hardly believe what she was hearing. The words must not be processing. He wasn’t actually inviting her to a party. This wasn’t real. Steve Harrington was not inviting her to a party. It wasn’t happening. But there he was, grinning up at her like anything, looking as serious as she’d ever imagined. 

“So…So what?” she scoffed, shaking her head. “I just show up to someone else’s house with all of my friends?” 

“Well, not all your friends,” Steve conceded. “I mean, it’s not my house. But consider this your invitation plus one. What about that girl you’re always hanging out with in the hall? Uh, Nancy? She could come.” 

Christine chewed her bottom lip. She wanted to go. Of course she did. But there was something about it all that still seemed too good to be true. Was Jenny Fischer really having a party? Would they really be allowed to join in? Or would they be turned away at the door while Tommy and Carol snickered like a pair of gargoyles? Or worse, would they show up to find there was no party at all, and the whole thing had just been a huge prank? 

“Come on,” Steve said cajolingly. “It’s one party. And I, for one, would really like to see you there.” 

Well. That had done it. 

Christine released her bottom lip, her face splitting into a smile so wide it was almost painful. 

“Okay. Sure. I mean—Fine. I’ll think about it. Yes.” 

“Alright! That’s my girl!” He grinned, and glanced up at the clock on the wall. “Well, now it’s only fifty-five minutes until you’re out of here, so I guess I’ll see you later.” 

“Maybe,” Christine corrected. 

Steve pushed off the counter, taking a few steps backward. “Exactly. So I’ll see you later, Chrissy.” 

He grabbed his snacks, heading into the theater with his perfect head held high. She called him back at the last moment. 

“Hey, Steve?” 

“Yup?” 

“Just…um…try not to spill your popcorn.” 

Steve winked, clicked his tongue, and then disappeared into the theater. 

The fog in her brain didn’t clear for another few seconds. She’d been so hyped up on adrenaline trying to survive the conversation, she hadn’t fully considered the ramifications. But now there was clear air to breathe, it was coming back to her. She’d tried, and failed, to ask out Steve Harrington. And then, instead of cackling or hollering or rolling on the floor, he’d asked her out to a party instead. Steve Harrington had just asked her out. 

It was as if all the dopamine that had just drained out of her system started filling her from the bottom up all over again. 

Christine bit down on her knuckle, holding in the girly squeal that was desperate to burst from her chest. There were still people in the lobby. They were giving her strange looks. She still had fifty-five minutes on the clock. Fifty-four, fifty-three… 

For once, the rest of her shift seemed to fly by. She busied herself scrubbing the countertop, rearranging the candy boxes until they were all straight as a pin, and restocking everything that could possibly be restocked from the back closet. 

The moment the second hand finished its final lap around the clock, Christine was sprinting out the door into the alley. She threw on her backpack and catapulted herself onto her bike, zooming into traffic as fast as her frantic legs could carry her. It didn’t matter that she was still in her work clothes, or that cars were honking at her for veering too far into the road. Time was of the essence. 

She zoomed down the residential streets, and took a hard turn into a driveway that nearly sent her toppling off the bike. She hopped off gracelessly, and tripped over her own sneakers as she ran up to the front door. Forgetting her patience, she jabbed at the doorbell, then knocked rapidly against the door. Then she pressed the doorbell again for good measure. 

A few moments later, the door swung open to reveal a very worried Karen Wheeler. 

“Who—Oh! Chrissy, sweetheart. I didn’t know you were coming over today.” 

“Hi, Mrs. Wheeler,” Christine panted, still beaming. “Is Nancy in her room?” 

“Well, yes, but…” 

Not waiting for an invitation, Christine darted into the house, making a beeline for the stairs and taking them two at a time. 

“Well, hold on!” Mrs. Wheeler called after her. “Where’s the fire?” 

“No fire! Just chemistry! Lots of chemistry! Thanks, Mrs. Wheeler!” 

Christine careened onto the second landing, nearly colliding with Nancy’s younger brother as he poked his head out of his room to investigate the commotion. 

“Hey, watch it!” he snapped, jumping back against the wall. 

“Hey, Mike! Sorry! You’re great! Bye!” 

She barely registered his baffled expression as she darted past him, wrenching Nancy’s bedroom door open and then slamming it shut behind her. 

Nancy, as she could have guessed, was settled on the end of her bed, surrounded by her schoolwork. Textbooks were laid open, unit packets flipped to various pages, and highlighters littered the sheets. She jumped as the door slammed, clutching her chest and knocking a stack of index cards onto the floor. 

“Jesus! Christine! What the hell?” 

Nancy was glowering, but Christine couldn’t bring herself to care. 

“Oh my God! You are not going to believe! You’re just not gonna believe! Oh my God!” 

She held her face in her hands, pacing back and forth at the end of Nancy’s bed. She wanted to scream, she wanted to jump, she wanted to cheer—but she knew that would alert Nancy’s parents, and the Wheelers would definitely not be cool with the truth. 

“Christine, slow down,” said Nancy as she clambered off the bed. She grabbed Christine by the shoulders, forcing her to stand still. “Breathe, okay? You’re not making any sense.” 

Christine nodded, taking a deep breath. “Okay, okay. Guess who came to The Hawk today?” 

Nancy stared at her. In an instant, the concern was gone and the annoyance was back. 

“Seriously, Chrissy? I am about to bomb this test. This is important. I have to…” 

“No, no, no, no, no, no, no!” This time Christine grabbed Nancy, locking her in place before she could bury herself in schoolwork again. “Guess who came to The Hawk and had a full, complete conversation with me?” 

“That’s great,” said Nancy, rolling her eyes. “Can we talk about Steve later? You know, after you help me study?” 

She freed herself of Christine’s grip, picking up her index cards and settling back onto her bed. There were already about thirty cards written out, and she was still finding more to jot down. If nothing else, you had to admire her dedication. 

Christine sighed dramatically, leaning back against the unoccupied desk. She dropped her backpack on the floor and started shedding her work uniform. 

“Fine. I guess that means you don’t want to know who invited me to Jenny Fischer’s party tonight either.” 

The silence that followed was sweeter than she’d imagined. 

“What?” Nancy demanded in a low voice. 

“No, it’s fine,” said Christine. She shrugged as she fished a fresh T-shirt out of her bag. “It can wait. I mean, we kinda have somewhere to be at eight o’clock, but it’s totally cool. Let’s talk about molecular structures.” 

“Oh my God!” Nancy put the cards aside, pushing herself onto her knees. “Christine, if you are joking right now, I swear to God I will kill you.” 

“Nance, I am not that funny. Steve and everyone came to the movies, I—God, I made an absolute idiot of myself. Can you believe I tried to ask him out?” 

“What?” Nancy squealed. “And he said yes?” 

“No! I completely bombed out. Told him we should study together at the library. But instead of making fun of me, he told me I should come to Jenny’s party later to loosen up.” 

“Loosen up?” she repeated with a smirk. 

Christine threw her button-down in Nancy’s face. 

“Not like that,” she laughed. “Apparently all I do is work, and I don’t know how to have any fun.” 

She tugged on her tee and finally pulled her hair out of its stupid ponytail. Then she flopped down onto the end of Nancy’s bed, finding the narrow strip of blanket that was not covered in papers. 

Nancy was smiling sweetly. “Christine, that’s amazing. You’re gonna have so much fun.” 

“Well, you’re coming with me, right?” Christine asked, propping head up on her elbow. 

“Oh, no. No, I’m seriously worried about this test, and…” 

“Nance…” 

She sighed, and Christine noticed how sad her smile looked. “He asked you out, Chrissy. Not me.” 

“He invited me to someone else’s house party, where there’s gonna be like forty people. It’s not exactly a marriage proposal.” 

“Still, this—this could be huge for you. I don’t want to mess that up.” 

Christine stared at her friend, watching as Nancy shuffled through her completed flash cards. She was touched, of course, but also a little disappointed. This wasn’t how she’d imagined the conversation going at all. 

She poked Nancy on the knee. Then she did it again, and again, until she finally looked up. 

“What?” 

“He asked about you, you know.” 

“No, he did not.” 

“Yes, he did. He told me that I should bring a friend, and immediately suggested you. He’s expecting to see both of us there.” 

“Still…” she sighed. 

“No.” Christine pushed herself up, crossing her legs and sitting knee-to-knee with Nancy. She pushed the index cards aside, and grabbed Nancy’s wrists. “Look, you cannot leave me alone with these people. I’ve never been to a party before, and I’ve never been drunk, and I know that at some point Tommy’s gonna bring up something embarrassing I did like two years ago, and everyone’s gonna laugh, and I’m not gonna know what to say even though I’ve been worrying about it all day. I need you there, Nancy. I need you.” 

Nancy pursed her lips, but did not respond. Apparently, the sentimental best friend card was not going to be enough. So Christine started waving Nancy’s hands around, swinging them back and forth wildly until the other girl finally broke out laughing. 

“Okay, even if I did want to go,” she conceded, “my parents aren’t going to let me out of the house. I slept over last night. I can’t do two nights in a row, especially when they know your dad’s not home.” 

“Alright, so you don’t stay over,” said Christine. “We say we’re going back to my place so you can look at my notes from last year, we’ll get ready, and then we can walk to Jenny’s. It’s only a couple of blocks. We can figure out the rest later.” 

“Yeah, easy for you to say. You dad isn’t waiting at home with the light on.” 

“Fine, fine. You want a battle plan? Just tell your parents you got caught up studying and it’s already past Barb’s curfew. They can pick you up, or let you stay at my house.” 

“I’m still going to be in trouble.” 

“I thought you said Steve Harrington would be worth it?” 

There was a stare-off. Nancy narrowed her eyes, floundering between her desire to be right and her desire to live out her dream. Christine did not budge. Nancy was stubborn as hell, but somewhere under that cardigan there was a rebel. All Christine had to do was wait her out. 

Finally, Nancy dropped her gaze. Her smile was hidden under a curtain of hair. She closed her textbook with satisfying finality, and Christine beamed. 

“God, I don’t have anything to wear.” 

“Bullshit,” Christine laughed. “A, you look great in everything, and B, I know you went shopping with Barb this morning.” 

“God,” Nancy sighed, “have you told her yet?” 

“Nope. I got off work and came straight here.” 

Nancy leaned over, grabbing the phone from her bedside table. She handed the receiver to Christine, and was halfway through dialing the Hollands’ phone number when the door swung open. Mrs. Wheeler popped her head into the room. 

“Mom!” Nancy complained. “Knocking?” 

“Sorry,” said Mrs. Wheeler, more amused than apologetic. “Christine, are you joining us for dinner?” 

“Oh, um… Thanks, Mrs. Wheeler, but…” 

“Actually, we were going to go to Chrissy’s house to study,” said Nancy. “We’ll just eat there.” 

“Uh, I don’t think so,” said her mother, a hand on her hip. “You stayed over last night, Nancy. I’d like you to stay home for once.” 

“Mom! I really have to study for this test! And Christine has all of her chemistry notes from last year. She promised she’d quiz me.” 

“And she can quiz you. Right here.” 

“I totally get it, Mrs. Wheeler,” Christine placated. “I just wanted to go over what my test was like last year, so Nancy could get a better idea of what Kaminsky’s looking for. I save all my old tests in a folder at my house.” 

“Exactly,” Nancy agreed. “Please, Mom? This test is super important.” 

Mrs. Wheeler sighed. “Fine. But after dinner. I don’t want you having pizza two nights in a row. And that’s final.” 

She raised a finger when Nancy opened her mouth, cutting off any complaints. Then she smiled, and closed the door once more. 

“We’re so going to be late,” Nancy groaned. 

“It’s fine,” said Christine. “No one shows up to a party on time anyway. At least, that’s what I’ve heard.” 

Nancy laughed, and turned her attention back to the telephone. 

To say Barb was excited about the news would have been an understatement. Christine and Nancy had to hold the receiver between them to talk, but they easily could have heard Barb’s squeal from the other side of the room. She’d offered to drive them to the party, even if she didn’t go herself, but Christine refused. They were going to waste Barb’s gas by having her chauffer them around the neighborhood. Jenny’s house wasn’t too far from Christine’s, so it wouldn’t be a problem. 

They couldn’t stay on the line long, just in case one of Nancy’s parents picked up the phone and overheard them. But Barb wished them both good luck and told them to call her the moment they got home. After that, Nancy went through her entire wardrobe for the perfect outfit, while Christine quizzed her with the flash cards. She didn’t get a single question wrong. 

An hour later, Mrs. Wheeler called them down for dinner. Nancy often complained about eating dinner with her family, but Christine always thought it seemed kind of nice—everyone around the table together talking about their day. She and her father rarely bothered using the dining room table, even when they were both home. They mostly ate take out anyway. 

“So Christine,” Mrs. Wheeler said once they were all seated, serving out the beef stew she’d made. “How’s your father?” 

“He’s good,” she answered politely. “He left for Atlanta last night, so he’ll be at a work conference for the week.” 

“Must be nice,” said Mr. Wheeler, somewhat wistfully, “being able to travel. Farthest the office will pay for me to go is Indianapolis. Huh.” 

“Still,” said Mrs. Wheeler, shaking her head. “I can’t believe he leaves you alone for so long. I can’t imagine leaving the kids to fend for themselves for a week.” 

“We’d be fine,” said Mike through a mouthful of stew. 

His mother shot him a sour look. “Thank you, Michael. Glad to know you’re so appreciative.” 

Mike simply shrugged. 

“Hey, Mike,” said Christine. “How’s Mr. Clarke doing? You still have him for science?” 

“Yeah, he’s fine,” Mike answered. “We’ve got a test next week on cell division. Pretty easy stuff.” 

“Which you’ve studied for?” Mrs. Wheeler asked, glancing over from where she was feeding her youngest daughter, Holly. 

Mike rolled his eyes. “Yes, Mom.” 

“How’s AV club?” asked Christine. 

That made him light up. “AV club’s great. Mr. Clarke ordered a new Heathkit model that just came out this year. Solid state, hundred watt, WARC bands—we just need to get a DSP.” 

“Oh my God, I heard about that,” Christine gushed. “The HW-5400, right? I’m super jealous.” 

“Can we speak English at the table?” Mr. Wheeler complained. 

“We’re getting a new radio,” said Mike, carefully enunciating each word. “And it’s way cooler than Chrissy’s was.” 

“Michael, don’t talk back to your father.” 

“Whatever.” 

“Am I allowed to come see it?” asked Christine. “One AV club president to another?” 

“We’ll discuss it,” he said haughtily. “I’ll let you know when the party decides. We get first dibs, though.” 

“Obviously.” 

“Weren’t you like, the only person in AV club?” Nancy asked, smirking. 

“No! There was Charlie Chester, Felicity Bex…” 

“Will’s brother used to be in it,” Mike offered. “Jonathan?” 

“I guess, yeah.” Christine barely managed to contain her scoff. “He didn’t show up a lot, though. Only when we had new equipment to play with. I don’t think he liked hanging with us too much. Then he ditched us for the art department.” 

“Will says Jonathan is pretty cool,” said Mike. 

“Yeah, well, he’s Jonathan’s little brother. He has to say that.” 

“I don’t tell anyone that Nancy’s cool.” 

“Shut up!” 

“Hey, that’s enough you two!” 

Mrs. Wheeler glared, brandishing her fork at her children in turn. Both of them pouted, but reluctantly held their tongues. 

“Now,” she continued, ruffling her shoulders, “if it wasn’t Jonathan Byers, Christine, may I ask what boy had you ready to break down my front door this afternoon?” 

“Mom!” 

“I am allowed to ask,” Mrs. Wheeler said innocently. “You can make all the excuses you want, but I have never seen a teenage girl move that fast in the name of science. There’s only one thing that can make a girl that happy.” 

“You do not have to answer that,” said Nancy, rolling her eyes at Christine. 

“No, it’s—it’s fine,” she said quietly. She shifted under the weight of Mrs. Wheeler’s intense gaze. It was a little unnerving. “Um, a guy came to the theater to visit me today. Just someone from my physics class.” 

Mike made an obnoxious gagging sound across from her, while his mother gasped in delight. “Ooh, a junior? That’s exciting.” 

“Not really,” Christine insisted with a shrug. “He just wanted to borrow some notes. Nothing important.” 

Mrs. Wheeler pouted, and looked about to comment when her husband set down his silverware in annoyance. 

“Are we done with the teenage gossip? I’d like to eat my dinner in peace, thank you very much.” 

“Hmph.” Mrs. Wheeler glared at him, but plastered on a compliant smile. “Of course, Ted. I’m sorry.”

The table lapsed into silence. It was a bit awkward, but Christine was glad the questioning was over. That was one benefit of life with her dad; there wasn’t such an audience. 

Nancy nudged her under the table, and they quickly shared a smile. The worst part was over. Soon they’d be home free, getting ready for a house party with all the most popular kids in school. 

Nothing important at all.

[peakyxshelby]

I do.

Finn Shelby x reader

The reader's parents are setting her up in an arranged marriage

“Please don’t leave me,” Finn was grabbing both sides of your face tears in both of your eyes. You stared at him even looking at him was breaking your heart, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You started sobbing into his chest. Neither of you could believe this was really happening. Your parents were marrying you off. Finn Shelby wasn’t good enough for an Anderson girl, that’s what everyone would say anyway. Your Grandfather owned almost all of the land in and around Birmingham. Your family was the richest family around. Your father, Robert Anderson, brought you up in some type of mansion, you were sent to private school and treated like what he thought was royalty. Your family had money and a reputation to uphold, but you weren’t interested in the money. You were interested in Finn. It was two days, two days until you would be married to Samuel Williams, a respectable man with a very respectable family. You begged and pleaded your parents not to make you do this for months but you were ignored, the wedding was planned, the house was bought and the invitations were out.

“I can’t be what other people want me to be Finn, I’m just not that girl.” He tightened his grip around you, you never wanted to leave his embrace. You felt safest in his arms.

“You’re my girl,” he said choking over his tears. “I know you have to do this but is there nothing you can do to get out of it?” You looked up at him shaking your head.

“What am I meant  to do?”  You were leaving tonight to go up to your grandparents in the country to get prepared for the big day, then after the wedding, you would be moving down to Brighton with your new husband, this could be the last time you ever saw Finn. You both knew this but neither of you could bare to think about it.

”I don’t know who I am without you (Y/N)” These words broke you, You couldn’t let him go.

“I need to leave,” you say as you hear the beeping of your brother's car outside. He told our parents he was taking me out for one last meal when in reality he was taking me down to see the blinder. “And if this is the last time I see you, know that I love you more than anything.” You were both full on crying now.

“I love you (Y/N), always.”

“Please figure this out, You always do.” Finn didn’t know what you meant by that but before he could ask you had given him one last kiss and ran away. Looking back one last time he memorised every detail of her face, he broke down as she drove away.

Finn walked into Polly’s house where his whole family was gathered celebrating little Karls 4th birthday. As soon as he walked in everyone knew what had happened.

“She’s gone isn’t she.” John came over embracing Finn in a hug before they both sat down on the couch Polly rubbing his back to soothe him.

“What the fuck am I gonna do?”

“You will find away,” Polly said to him with a stern voice surprising everyone as this contrasted with her soothing gesture before. “I envy you. You and (Y/N). I envy the love you have, you’ll make it work.”

“When’s the wedding?” Arthur asked he looked like he was plotting something.

“Two days.”

“We’ll need men,” Tommy said going along with Arthur as if they were having some sort of private conversation over Finn’s head.

“We are stopping that wedding Finn.”

“You look beautiful,” your sister said tears in her eyes as she admired you. “I know you don’t want to do this, You’re so strong you know.” You said nothing. You hadn’t spoken all day, there was no chance in hell you would pretend in you were enjoying this. And as your father came to collect you to walk you down the aisle you began to bawl.

“I can’t do this! I love Finn!”

“Keep your voice down (Y/N)!” Your father hissed at you as you sunk into the ground crying. For a moment he saw his little girl again as a vulnerable young child. He got down on his knees beside you.

“I’m sorry, but it’s the only way.” You looked into your father’s eyes as he gave you a tight hug. He was apologising sincerely, he truly believed this was the only way and this scared you. You didn’t want the moment to end you wanted to stay hugging your dad forever not married to a man you didn’t even know. But it was time to go time to leave any hope of a life with Finn Shelby behind you. You didn’t think anything could pull you two apart but as the church doors opened and the hundreds of people that had turned up stood up to admire the bride to walk down the aisle you knew any hope was gone. Samuel stood at the top of the church and honestly he looked as unpleased as you were. You looked up and prayed that this wasn’t how it would turn out. Please god, don’t let this be how my life turns out.

As you made it to the top of the aisle you faced Samuel as the priest began to speak.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here in the sight of God, and in the presence of family and friends to join together this man and this woman in Holy Matrimony, which is commended of St. Paul to be an honorable estate, instituted of God and therefore is not to be entered into unadvisedly or carelessly, but reverently, joyfully and in the love of God. Into this holy estate, these two persons present come now to be joined. Let us pray.

Please join hands. I ask you know to repeat the marriage vows”

“Get the fuck down! Oi! Get down!” Arthur, what the hell is Arthur doing walking into the middle of my wedding. That’s when gunshots started going off. Banging off the roof of the church as Tommy and his boys walked into the church. Some sort of smoke bomb was thrown in and the whole place went up in hysterics. Everyone running for the exit. That’s when you felt someone grab you.

“Finn,” you jump into his arms wrapping yourself around him.

“My god you are beautiful,” he stared you up and down and twirled you round under his arm to see you in all your glory. “Come on we need to get out now.” It was all a bit of a blur but you were dragged into a car and then five minutes down the road let off at a big house when you got in there was already a couple of blinders kicking about the place was set up, music was playing and there was booze everywhere, little by little all the men started to come back. You didn’t know what the hell they had done or what Finn was planning but you were glad you were out of there. As Tommy, Arthur and John walked through the door you ran over to them.

“No one's hurt right? My family is ok??”

“Everyones fine, the church damage is paid for already, you’re free (Y/N)” Tommy said spinning your round and pointing at a table Finn was standing on Beckoning you up. “Looks like you’re needed.”

“Oi Arthur!” Finn shouted, “I think i need your help here.” Finn helped pull you up onto the table and face you looking at you with the biggest smile.

“What’s going on here?” You laughed.

“Sssh, you’ll see.” He winked at you as Arthur joined you two on top of the table.

“Attention please!” he started as everyone in the room went silent and turned to stare at you. “We are gathered here today to officially invite (Y/N) Anderson to join our Finn Shelby here on his life adventures and officially become a blinder.” The whole place roared and started shouting and cheering before Arthur shut them up again.

“Finn i believe you have vows to say.”

“Do you (Y/N) Anderson accept to run away with me, Finn Shelby?”

“Yes, I do!”

[avalonbayblog]

Blush - Billy/Avalon

It started with a blush.

Billy had just finished a test with enough confidence that he hadn’t needed to look over his answers. He stood up, the screeching of his chair drawing the ire of his classmates around him. Skull let out a long snore, draped over his desk, while Bulk crumpled his own test and threw it at Billy’s head. It bounced off and dropped harmlessly to the floor. Billy ignored it, used to the taunts.

It took him a long time to get used to the envy and outright jealousy of his classmates to his smarts. The misunderstanding that made him so alone. They thought he thought he was better than them. When all he truly wanted was to fit in. But fitting in wasn’t something Billy was made to do, he was made to stand out and if that was his smarts that did so, then so be it. He’d never downplay his smarts just for a shot at the ‘cool crowd’. Besides, some of the coolest people in school; Tommy, Jason, Kimberly, Trini, and Zack were some of his best friends.

Billy smiled at Ms. Appleby as he dropped off his test at her desk. She lifted her gaze from her book, smiled at him, scolded Bulk and Skull, then bid him an enjoyable rest of the day, a sentiment Billy gave back to her. Then he hitched his bag up his shoulder and moved to leave the room, risking a glance at his friends. They’d all studied together the night before; one last cram session that’d at least increase their confidence. If they didn’t know the material then, they’d never know it, he surmised. But confidence went a long way.

It was a stark change, honestly. Kimberly, who typically chewed on the erasers of her pencils with her front teeth had her head bent over the desk, scribbling away. Zack, who could never sit still, wiggling around to a beat only he could her was stock still, poised over his test, carefully reading the answers. Jason wasn’t looking around the room, Tommy wasn’t twirling his ponytail around his finger, and Avalon wasn’t staring into space, finding it all a waste of time.

Trini got up from her seat, always the second one to finish, and passed by her friends, flashing them encouraging smiles as she walked by, them looking up at her movement. Avalon smiled back at her then turned her gaze to the front, looking at Billy.

She looked at him then just as quickly looked away. Eyes downcast, her lips tilted into a smile which was, not simply rare for her, but something she didn’t quite do when taking tests. She was intelligent, that was for sure, being able to survive on the streets with only her sister as company was no easy feat. Nevertheless, she still smiled at him. Her smile made her usually tough face brighten in exuberance, showing off her true age of seventeen, youthful beauty radiating from inside.

Suddenly, Billy felt more uncomfortable than he’d ever had before. He’d had experience talking to other girls, had a girlfriend in Marge and Melissa where he didn’t know what to do. Despite the encouragement from Zack, Trini, and Kimberly, he couldn’t bring himself to do much about his interest in them. Somehow, by the grace of God, they’d been interested enough in him to break him from his shell. He couldn’t even gather the courage to ask Marge to the dance that night, he remembered. His own nerves got in the way and she ended up asking him.

This was different. Billy suddenly felt hot under the collar, blinked rapidly, shuffled from foot to foot. He hadn’t done that in a while, a habit he’d left behind since working on his self-confidence and self-worth. The heat crept form his neck to his cheeks, up to his ears. Who knew it was possible to get so worked up. It must’ve been what Jason, Tommy, and Zack meant when the guys were alone and discussed everything from girls to what they did with girls. Not that Billy didn’t understand their conversations, but it was one thing to understand it in terms of scientific specifics than to exhibit it in person.

Ducking his head, Billy left the classroom with Trini hot on his heels. They walked to their lockers, conversing about the test answers they got right and wrong while waiting for their friends to finish. Billy sat in front of his locker, pulling out the notes he’d written down the night before of a new weapon he wanted to create for the rangers. A signal inhibitor lest they were to be brain washed or hypnotized once more.

One by one their friends trickled out of the classroom with different exclamations about the test. Tommy’s bringing a round of laughter when he said, “I was so nervous I almost forgot to write my name.”

“That’s no surprise,” Zack interrupted. “Sometimes I wonder if you recognize your own reflection in a mirror.”

“Well, I’m sure you can easily recognize yours, because your head’s so big,” Trini said, swatting at his arm. She looked up when Avalon finally joined the group, tossing her backpack aside. She settled to the floor next to Billy, her arm brushing his. “How’d it go?”

Again, there was a shot of heat that crept through his neck. It was official, something was wrong with him.

“Pretty good, I reckon,” Avalon said. She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “There were a few I missed but I at least answered everything this time.” She poked Billy on the arm with her index finger. “And it’s all thanks to you, Smurf. I couldn’t have done it without you, mate. Thank you.”

Billy lifted his fingers from his arm in a gentle motion. “Don’t mention it. I’m glad to have helped all of you.” He made sure to look at all his friends when he spoke, not wanting to blush again. It was starting to get on his nerves. It didn’t work, for Avalon made a face and leaned towards him.

“You alright, mate? You’re looking kind of red.”

“I’m fine,” Billy replied. He looked at his watch. “Actually, I’m going to be late for the science club if I don’t get going.” He didn’t have a meeting for the science club in another twenty minutes. But something was happening to him and he needed to figure out what it was. “I’ll see you all later.”

He scrambled from the floor, practically tripping over his bag, before he managed to stay steady on his feet, walking away. As he went, Billy clenched his hands into fists.

He’d gotten over his nerdy self, over the anxiety, the nervous swaying, the rapid blinking, the insecurity. Only to find himself unable to stay normal when the orange ranger was around him. Intuitively, he knew exactly what was going on.

It was times like these he wouldn’t mind a monster being dropped from the sky and crushing everything in sight. Somehow, working as a ranger was becoming easier than being a regular teen.

Billy risked a glance over his shoulder and found—as usual---Avalon’s gaze move his way. She smiled and gave him a parting wave. Billy felt himself smiling back until she turned to address something Kimberly was saying to her. Billy sighed, moving to face forward once more.

A lot easier.

[laurabelle2930]

Summer House~Chapter 5 Questions and Answers

Again seriously blown away by how wonderful this fandom is! 

Read it here or on AO3

Chapter 5: Questions and Answers

They were still on opposite ends of the room. His palms were lying over his face, her eyes were tired and drawn, her slim form was hunched over as the small of her back rested against the window sill. “You realize after that declaration I now have even more questions right?” she asked quietly while the room around them grew dark.

His throaty voice made her skin prickle, “Yes and I’ll do what I can to answer them.” 

She swallowed thickly for about the tenth time in the past five minutes. Oliver fidgeted before her but remained seated; giving her the space she needed to compose herself. “So Tommy’s apart of the plan?” she finally breathed sadly.

Oliver nodded just as somberly, “He’s been apart of the plan since college based on the files from the investors.”

“And Laurel how does she play into this?”

Felicity saw Oliver’s eyes twitch with disgust. She buried the part of her that felt joy at that silent emotion and, remained fixated on the task at hand. “She’s…” his voice petered out briefly while he tried to gauge how he wanted to answer the question. She let him fumble through his mind until the right words fell across his tongue. “Laurel as you probably know only went after me because of my family money,” he grumbled almost unhappily.

Felicity recalling the memory she’d just relieved that morning nodded timidly, “Umm yeah I do believe that was made clear to me at some point.”

Oliver’s electric smile still made her stomach jump and wildly churn. He sighed tiredly then continued to weave his tale. “Anyways after what happened or didn’t happen between us in highschool I swiftly ended things and tried to move on.” Again Felicity nodded as he continued to speak. “That’s when she sunk her hooks into Tommy…” Felicity’s brows rose at that one. He caught the facial shift and, asked her almost gently, “Did you really think that she chose him out of love alone?”

Felicity frowned when she realized that she and Laurel had something in common; they both settled for Tommy when they couldn’t have the man they wanted; at least that’s what she was beginning to think. Oliver watched her face carefully and, quickly corrected her wayward thought. “Lissy you genuinely loved Tommy when I fell for you.”

She couldn’t help the words that passed through her troubled lips, “Yeah I did love him but, I was never in love with him like I should have been.”

“Either way,” he jumped in almost instantly, “they began dating and, by the time I graduated and, came home they had entered into some twisted partnership with my father.”

She licked her dry lips while he let her contemplate her next words. “But that doesn’t answer my original question,” she finally breathed. “How much does she know and, can she really be that cold?”

“That’s the problem I honestly don’t know. I don’t know what she does or doesn’t know or even how far into this she really is…” he uttered before his eyes fell to the floor with regret. “That’s one aspect where I could really use your help,” he admitted almost shyly.

Felicity swallowed her rising bile, “Okay...but, I mean do you have access to anything like the QC server’s?” she managed to spit out once her stomach contents were safely below her larynx.

Oliver winced at his own words, “Yes but, it’s sporadic…”

“Okay,” she seemed to weeze with annoyance. “So you have some access to the servers which is helpful but….” she let the sentence hang between them like a dead weight hoping he’d give her a bit more to work with then just endless words.

Again something inside her spiked violently when he caught her verbal double meanings and, jumped back with, “I have two years worth of information back at my home in China.”

Felicity’s jaw simply dropped, “China?” she croaked in complete shock.

“Yeah Lissy if you agree to help me we’ll be spending some time in China.”

Her chin fell to her chest, “Okay so that explains how Robert can check this place every few weeks…” she breathed in an odd sense of relief.

“I’m not usually here when I’m in the states. Usually I’m with John but, he’s not in town so I decided to say here since my father’s….”

Now it was Felicity’s turn to jump, “Since he’s in China…”

Oliver’s eyes twinkled almost sweetly at how she managed to connect the dots so seamlessly. “Yeah LIssy if he’s there then I’m here and so on and, so forth.”

She saw his smile when she dared to sneak a quick peek at his handsome face but something in those twinkling damn eyes told her his story was far from over. She poked at him a bit more hoping the time spent away from humanity as a whole hadn’t destroyed the boy who once made her feel at ease. “Oliver what else aren’t you telling me?”

His eyes shifted, his chest seemed to empty and his body seemed to flutter into a state complete exhaustion. She watched with envy at the release that he seemed to find even during a stressful situation. “What the home in China didn’t give you enough information?” he tried to mildly joke. 

Felicity just gave him a resigned sigh, “Oliver come on just tell me the story so I can decide if I should help you or not.”

He nodded carefully before his own resigned voice filled the air. “I’ll tell you my story Felicity but, first I want something very small in return,” he poised carefully with tight lips and a mournful sigh.

“And that would be?” Felicity almost squeaked in a tenor of fear.

His smile was one of kindness when his eyes sparkled in genuine empathy, “Be open?” he finally asked while she simply gave him a tight nod. He watched her moving head carefully and ginned sadly as he parted his lips and took one more almost hollow sounding breath….

2 Years Ago…

The windows were fogged, the sun was long gone and, his head felt heavy with mournful thoughts of regret and despair. He held the manila file with quivering fingers and, a lump in his throat. His red rimmed eyes flitted over the confusing figures once more, the numbers seemed to swim like a trout does as it journeys downstream. He let the file fall as his fingers flew to his suddenly constricted throat. He mumbled beneath his shocked breaths, “This can’t be right…”

The wind blew through the towering buildings with anger, the sound rattled the windowpanes and, even seemed to travel through the floors until the vibrations reached his feet. His fingers fell to the phone, his mind seemed to be dialing while his body simply followed along blindly. He pressed the speakerphone icon and, waited with bated breath for the sound of a reassuring voice. The minutes passed slowly, the wind continued to howl, his heart continued to thud as it rushed toward the rattled floor. A loud beep followed by a soft melodic voice pushed his mind forward as his lips slowly began to move. “Hi...ummm wow I can’t believe I’m actually calling you…” He took a staggered breath, “Look ummm this is Oliver Queen and I just found some odd equations that shouldn’t be where they are.” He nearly mumbled his last thought, “I need your help to decipher them and, I suspect I’ll need your help to expose the meaning behind them as well. Please, please call me back at the office as soon as you get this message….”

The machine beeped before he remembered to leave his private office number.  He nearly choked out, “Well that should end well…” before his other regrets could reach the surface. 

The windows rattled once more, his teeth chattered and, his body ached as he pushed the file into his briefcase. He heard the ping of the elevator just beyond his closed office door, he scurried to the back door in hopes of avoiding the owner of the size 12 loafers that he heard padding down the narrow halls. His shoes skidded over the cold tiles as he managed to slip through the double doors and down toward the stairs near the service elevator.

Ten minutes later he was pulling out onto the busy city streets and gliding through the late evening traffic. His seemingly designer car slipped through the throngs of moving vehicles with practiced ease. His stomach felt empty, his body felt cold and, his head seemed to throb as he moved towards the freeway and, he hoped into two pairs of helping hands.

The drive to the summer house was always short but, tonight for some reason the 20 minute trek felt like a four hour journey. The dirt roads seemed bumpier, the night even seemed darker as he pulled up to the massive home’s grand, wrap around porch. He frowned then noted to himself, “I see their cars but, why don’t I see any signs of life?”

He grabbed his briefcase and, lumbered to the front door yelling their names as he took the front steps two by two. “Tommy! Laurel! I really need to show you both what I discovered at work today!”

He expected to be greeted with simple shouts of innocent greetings but, all he met when he pushed through the unlocked door was darkness and, loud screams of unbridled passion. He froze in the empty foyer, his heart thudding loudly while his blood scream through his ears. He muttered, “It can’t be…” as his legs carried him towards the shadow laden stairs. He growled when a female screamed, “YES BABY! YES!”

He glowered when a very gruff voice hollered  back, “COME ON BABY, COME FOR ME!” His feet seemed to stumble over a loose floor board when he finally reached the landing, his fingers slipped along the banister as he slowly stepped toward his cracked bedroom door. He gulped and, continued his trek toward the screams of someone he loved and someone he felt trapped by.

Candlelight flooded the the floors as he gingerly pushed his fingertips along the already cracked door. The soft wood seemed to burn his tender flesh as he slowly stepped forward. Their voices floated through him like water running down a creek, “How much time do we have before he gets here?” she asked as Oliver saw Tommy’s upper back floating over her caged in shoulders.

Oliver heard his mumbled words through the soft kisses he kept pressing to her smiling lips, “I’d wager another hour if Robert was successful…”

Oliver froze when Laurel replied, “So he’s going to clue him in?”

Tommy pressed his lazy lips to her nose, “Of course not. We’ll need a scapegoat and the golden boy will bring in the most press…”

Oliver’s heart froze then shattered with anger not pain when Laurel breathed, “How much longer do I have to pretend he’s the person I want?”

Oliver couldn’t see his grin but he certainly could hear it, “Just until the first wave...after that we’ll be together…” he mumbled as Oliver’s phone buzzed dangerously in his coat pocket. He didn’t bother to check the ID he simply ran... had he’d been moving slower he would have heard Tommy’s body lumbering off Laurel’s as he called out for his adoptive brother.

Oliver shot down the stairs quickly. He ran through the swinging doors and into the humid summer night. The full branches tore at his skin and clothing, his eyes fluttered each time another leaf clouded his obscured vision. He was nearly to the secondary structure when Tommy’s shrill scream shattered the humid night air… “Dammit Oliver! Let me explain!”

Just as his fingers fell over the aged doorknob a set of car lights illuminated the path before him. He froze along the dirt path and held his trapped breath. He heard Tommy’s foot falls thrashing about the nature laden ground. Robert’s voice came crashing through the trees as the lights from his car died. “Did you stop him?” came his father’s panicked voice.

“What do you think? Look at me?” Tommy argued sarcastically with most of himself still exposed.  

Oliver tried to push himself behind two nearby trees while the two men argued in the clearing before him. “I told you screwing that whore was a mistake and now he’s seen you!”

Oliver heard Tommy’s audible gulp in annoyance, “She’s not a whore…”

“She is if she’s sleeping with you and him at the same time son,” Robert lamented coldly.

Oliver’s throat thickened as the sweat from his brow began to trickle down face. “It's no different then what he does and, she doesn’t screw him. He can barely touch her without cringing,” Tommy countered.

“Meaning?” Robert asserted oddly.

“He’s been in love with another woman for almost eight years!” Tommy fumed as the time continued to trickle past their screaming voices.

Oliver blanched but, remained hidden as the two continued to argue. “Regardless he’s seen the files and, regardless of his test scores he’s not stupid. He’ll figure out what we’re planning to do and, we both know he’ll reach out to the woman he loves at some point….”

“What so I’ll kill him and try to trick my ex-girlfriend into betraying the man she loves?” Tommy breathed thickly as the fog around them began to grow.

Robert mused, “She loves him does she?”

Oliver didn’t miss the hitch in Tommy’s voice when he stammered, “She denied it but, yeah she fell for him during our senior year.”

Oliver’s blood was beginning to boil. Coming after him was one thing but hurting her was out of the question. He reacted perhaps foolishly but, reacted he did. He cried out in anger, “YOU FUCKING TOUCH HER AND, I’LL BE THE ONE HOLDING A GUN TO YOUR FUCKING HEART!”

Both men’s fingers flew to their sides. Oliver watched their shadows move slowly through the overgrown weeds along the edge of the property line as he creeped towards the path that led to the nearby village. Robert veered to the pathway of the secondary home, Tommy headed toward the village. Oliver crept along the edges of the path slowly, both men kept to the man made pathways and whispered eagerly, “I can hear him…”

Oliver dodged behind numerous trees to hide his growing shadow but, alas it was to no avail. Tommy’s labored breathing grew harsher when he snarled, “I can hear you brother… hell I can smell your damn sweat…”

Oliver mumbled when the safety of his handgun was slipped off, “You’re really a heartless bastard aren’t you?”

Tommy snickered, “Takes one to know one…”

Oliver agreed silently before ducking behind a nearby shrub. Tommy’s shadow loomed so he shrunk down until his knees were hidden in almost an inch of mud. Tommy baited him again, “I’ll kill her Oliver, I’ll seduce her and then snap her pretty little neck…”

Oliver’s heart raced but, he knew tact his brother had chosen. He kept quiet as he slowly slid down along the line of the bushes. He kept a watchful eye on his brother’s gun while continuing to make his silent escape. Tommy’s feet crept over the dirt ground, Robert’s voice echoed through the night, “She’ll die son...she’ll die and you’ll be the only one to blame when her blood is dripping down her pale skin…” as Oliver finally managed to crawl his way to safety…

Present Day… Felicity gawked, “I’m going to kill him…”

Oliver seemed amused by her words so she begged to know why. “You find me funny do you?”

He shrugged, “You don’t seem shocked that they thought we were in love.”

She averted her gaze toward the floor. “I’m avoiding that part in favor of the tools that tried to kill you over a damn file!” she snarled.

He smiled quietly, “So you’re not disagreeing then?”

She frowned then stammered, “To disagree would be to lie.”

“Still not a fan of lies I see?”

She glared but replied honestly, “No and given how many I feel like I’ve told lately I’m beginning to feel like a hypocrite.”

Oliver’s lips curved, “Felicity I think I’m affecting you…”

She glared darkly and, kept continuing with her original train of often sporadic thoughts. “again I’m avoiding that part because while I might be confused I know that I still have very strong feelings for you.”

He gave her a vexed look, “Which event do those feelings stem from?”

She rolled her perfectly blue eyes and shrugged, “Take your pick.”

“So that night we spent together three years ago…”

“Meant something…” she interrupted coldly.  “It meant something and while it wasn’t supposed to it did,” she sighed as his body fell backwards onto the broken down mattress.

“You’re not ready to discuss that yet are you?” he ventured slowly with a bit of happiness anchored to his tone.

“No and I won’t be until you tell me how you’ve spent the last two years,” she scolded with annoyance anchored to hers.

He rolled his eyes like her then cleared his throat and once again caved to Felicity’s request.

2 Years Ago…

He swore he felt the ice of the cold gun’s loaded barrel along his skin for what seemed like hours. He moved down the side of the steep, jagged cliff with great care and some amount of difficulty as his shoes weren’t designed to withstand the rocks along the mountains unclaimed face. He grunted when he felt the edge of a larger boulder slash along the leather of his shoe until the tip of the stone was tearing along his tender flesh. He swore silently but, lumbered forward knowing once he stopped his body wouldn’t move for another few days.

The lights of the town were small, quiet and quaint just like the residents who filled the air with idle conversation each morning when the sun had begun to rise upward towards the sky. The nearest building was a rustic if not somewhat charming bed and breakfast that had once served as a hiding place for him and a particular blonde whose life was now just as threatened as his own. His palm slipped down the rock cliff making him wince as the skin split and began to bleed. He tried to bandage the wound by untucking his shirt and ripping along the hemmed edge. He instead ripped the shirt apart leaving his abdomen exposed and his hand raw as he managed to limp his way towards the buildings side door.

The streets were empty, the street lamps were lit and the door as always remained unlocked and, he hoped unattended as he draped his bloody palm over the knob. The hinges creaked just like they’d done another night almost a year before. He sighed but continued to push the squeaking door forward in hopes that the owner was a very sound sleeper. His hopes were sadly dashed once his muddy, now nearly destroyed shoes landed over the unchanged hardwood floors…

“You know I have this funny thing it’s called a front door…” the annoyed owner sputtered tiredly from the landing of his shadow laden staircase.

Oliver glanced towards the man’s kind, deep, brown eyes then held up his wounded hand, “I didn’t think blood on your front door would be appreciated…”

Oliver waited for what felt like days. The owner slid his unmarred, large hands down the aging railing as his similar aged form lumbered softly over the exposed wooden planks of the stairs. “Did you just climb down the damn mountain?” he asked with a yawn and perhaps even a grin.

Oliver pointed gingerly to the line of stools near the kitchen bar. The slightly older man nodded in grim approval while he ventured into another dark room only to return with a stack of bandages and, even a few clean towels. Oliver smiled when he placed the stack of supplies before him. “Aren’t you even a bit curious?” he muttered as his aching fingers began reaching for the freshly cleaned linens.

HIs savior in a pair of flannel pj bottoms and a white shirt frowned, “Oh you’ve been breaking in here for years but, usually it was with another person in tow…”

Oliver grumbled, “Water and, let’s not bring her into this okay?”

He sighed, “Fine but, when should I expect the crusading duo of arrogance are us? as he leaned forward to turn on the kitchen sink.

Oliver watched him him wet the towels before he gingerly began to clean his wound. “Diggle, it’s not like that this time…” he grumbled while the clean water slowly coated the gashes along his palms. 

He froze, Oliver’s eyes danced down to his feet when he muttered, “Oliver what the hell is going on?”

“I found something and, now they’re trying to kill me…” Oliver admitted as the older man’s face went pale.

“Did they threaten the girl?” he jumped almost immediately.

Oliver sighed, “Turns out I didn’t hide my affections nearly well enough. They know I’m in love her…”

He pressed the towel deeper into the cut, “But you haven’t seen her in almost a year? How  could they think you’re still in love with her? Hell she doesn’t even know does she?” he sputtered quickly while helping to remove any remaining blood or debris.

“Look John, after we spent the night here she made a confession and I like an idiot got scared as you recall and, ran out to clear my head. By the time I came back she was gone and Laurel was waiting with news from my father…” Oliver saw John’s eyes twitch in anger he proceeded to speak knowing how even saying the words would taste over his tongue. “My father would have killed her had I not agreed to the engagement with Laurel.”

“So you went along with the plan to save the woman you loved yet; you on some level believed that Laurel was what you truly deserved?”

Oliver rolled his blue eyes until his head ached. “Yes Diggle, I thought Laurel was what I deserved. I thought she was my only option until Felicity showed me the truth. When Laurel suggested marriage I knew in the pit of my stomach something was wrong. I broke off any relationship we had that day but….”

“She was already working with Robert and Tommy hence the threat on Felicity’s life if you didn’t agree,” John surmised while Oliver simply nodded slowly.

“They made the press announcement. They convinced me that regardless of the threat on her life I’d be wasting my time because she ran from me. I didn’t have the guts to see the truth until after the press was abuzz with our engagement rumors. I didn’t see the plan unfolding before me because, I was too focused on what I’d lost.” 

John sighed, “Did you try to contact her? You know to say I’m a fool and, the stories are nothing more than lies?”

Oliver groaned as he spoke quietly. “I tried to contact Felicity yes but, she wouldn’t return my calls because like an idiot I realized I’d made a mistake by running out on her that morning. Now I’ve found files that shouldn’t exist and, she’s the only one who can help me find the truth...but sadly because of Laurel’s lies and, my actions she’s not exactly speaking to me. Also to add insult to injury she’s in danger again because of me and, now I don’t know what to do. So honestly what’s my next move? Do I run or do I find a way to end their plans before someone innocent dies?” he begged desperately.

John dumped the bloodied towel into the sink and turned the faucet back on. He filled the sink with ice water until the towel was submerged. Oliver felt his stomach churn when the water began to turn pink. John mused almost to himself, “I can’t believe you ran from love.....”

Oliver grumbled but said nothing intelligible. John glanced at him briefly with a slight twinkle in his knowings eyes. Oliver’s body seemed to curl inward when his sometime friend gave him a not so friendly warning. “Either way Oliver she’s the one who they’ll use to find you and break you. She’s in danger because of you and now they know it so tomorrow when they come to search the town you better have an idea of what you’re going to do to save the woman you love.”  

Oliver grumbled, “Oh goodie,” while John’s swift fingers pressed the edges of the bandage down.

“Hey I’m not the one who used to bring her up here when you and the other one were on a break…” John argued a bit too lightly for it to be taken seriously.

Oliver sighed, “Yeah well you let me and, what else could I do she refused to set foot in the house and, I’m in love with her.”

“Yeah and, yet you won’t tell her…” John mused as he shut the faucet off.

Oliver’s forehead thumped along the counter, “It’s complicated,” he breathed. “I tried to tell her back in highschool and, it nearly destroyed us because she didn’t believe me.” He let out a frustrated groan moments later, “I don’t know if it was me or Laurel but when Felicity and Tommy ended my heart surged with hope. I then ended things with Laurel thinking after we had an interesting discussion and she moved on to Tommy.” He couldn’t believe he was saying it but the flood gates surrounding his soul were cracked and the waters were slowly beginning to seep through. “When I came back from college with a renewed purpose I found that while I was still thinking about Felicity my heart no longer broke everytime I even heard her name. Tommy was a mess and Laurel was surprisingly changed. She started doing what she’d done to entice me in highschool. I shrugged it off at first because despite everything I was….”

“Still in love with Felicity,” John breathed.

Oliver shrugged but continued his purge. “Yeah but I knew going after her would create other issues so I began to settle into the idea that maybe Laurel was my one. I was tricked by the idea that perhaps she’d changed. I was fooled because, I wanted love…

“Yeah,” Diggle breathed deeply, “but she wasn’t the love you wanted.”

Oliver game him the ghost of a full smile, “As I told Felicity back in highschool Laurel, is what I deserved.

John chose that moment to interject, “Then why did you seek Felicity out when she came back to town if Laurel was what you deserved?”

“Because just hearing her name did something to my soul that never happened in all my years of being with Laurel…” he groaned.

John hesitated but, still he asked his question anyways. “So you spent six months meeting with Felicity in secret to what decide if you were suddenly worthy of her affections?”

Oliver kept his face hidden but his affected tone said more than his words ever could, “No…” he quaked, “I spent six months meeting with her because I realized I needed to be with her and, that was the only way she’d let me see her.”

John pushed harder, “Yeah but, then you slept together?”

“I swore I wouldn’t lose her friendship but, then Laurel and I got into another pointless fight over our by that point non-relationship and…” he finally sighed as his friend’s hand fell over his battered shoulder.

“And you forgot your promise and, finally gave into your feelings,” John surmised as Oliver lamely shrugged.

“She said it John. She said she loved me but, dammit I wasn’t sure she meant it….” he croaked. “I didn’t know what to do once I finally had the woman I so desperately wanted.”

Oliver felt his hand leaving his shoulder when he quietly reminded him of one very important fact. “If she didn’t feel the same she would’ve found a way out of all those secret meetings…”

“I’m not ready to talk about this yet,” Oliver grumbled in order to silence the coming lecture.

John’s mumbled words made him smile all be it briefly when he began moving back towards the stairs. “Yeah well soon enough you won’t have a choice.”

Oliver moaned but, remained seated along the kitchen counter, “Same room as usual then?”

Diggle’s light laugh was heard once he’d reached the stairs landing, “I’ll see you in the morning and Oliver?”

“Yeah Digg?” he groaned without ever moving one sore muscle.

“She deserved to know…”he whispered before his footsteps went silent.

Oliver held back a tight, “I know…” as the darkness around him finally took it’s toll.

Present Day....

While blushing isn’t a crime it also isn’t a great way to hide one’s true feelings. Felicity surveyed his relaxed form and, sadly let out a rather wistful sigh, “So John was your ally then?”

She saw his abdomen flex once he bothered to move his tight, chiseled upper body upward. Her throat ran dry when his shirt crinkled over the hard, sculpted aspects of his very well built body. She cleared her dry throat when he smirked in pure enjoyment, “You’re really going to avoid this aren’t you?”

She tilted her tight neck and sighed in relief when her neck cracked seamlessly, “I’m not addressing it no,” she finally sputtered when his perfect blue eyes danced over her curled up form.

His light laugh made her toes curl, “I’m going to make you admit it sooner or later Lissy…”

She glared, “It’s Felicity and, we met here a handful of times so let’s not open up any more old wounds okay?”

His dopey grin made her feel weak knee’d even while sitting over the cold floor. “True but the last time our relationship definitely changed,” he implored with more cock than ease in his tight tone.

She sulked. Oliver was pushing her to talk and she wasn’t ready nor willing to let him see the hole in her heart that had never truly healed. She knew she was once again lying but, she just couldn’t admit how she truly felt. “It was sex Oliver, pure and simple. I wanted you, you wanted me, I was drunk and lonely, you were confused and, well let’s just say some booze was involved,” she noted with ease. “Now I know I said it meant something but, as I said I’m not rady to go there so please just drop it.” Oliver’s brows raised in silent surrender while she veered toward her other verbal quandary, “ Now how has Diggle the inn keeper aided your undercover movements for the past two years.”

He still smiled brightly, “It wasn’t just sex and, John simply lends me a place to stay from time to time. He listens to my theories and provides encouragement but, he rarely gets more involved than that.” He stretched a bit when he added perhaps just for sport, “I’m only here because John’s gone to visit his brother as I already told you.”

Felicity’s curious nature made her lips move before her brain could stop her, “Why does he help you at all?”

Oliver’s chest heaved in sadness, “Do you remember the accident at my father’s main office about six years ago?”

Felicity nodded and mumbled contritely, “Yeah I was actually tempted to call you when I heard about the blast why?”

She saw his eyes brighten but he kept his hopeful delusions to himself, “Well that blast was merely a test for his greater overall plan,” Oliver started as Felicity’s mind raced. “That “test” killed John’s wife and young daughter. He’s helping me to avenge them,” he finally admitted as Felicity’s heart when cold.  

Felicity was about to ambush him with even more questions when her phone buzzed with anger along her hip. She growled knowing just how bad this exchange was about to be. She slipped her fingers along the side of the buzzing device and swallowed a small gulp before whimpering, “Don’t be you…”

Oliver mouthed, “Me?” while gesturing towards his perfect chest.

She shook her head while mouthing, “No…” Her fingers shook with trepidation when she finally whispered, “So are you to elfcon one yet?”

“REALLY!” she seethed as Felicity held the phone away from her ear. “A SANTA CLAUSE REFERENCE! I HAVEN’T HEARD FROM YOU IN HOURS AND YOU’RE TRYING TO BE CUTE? I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD LISSY! I THOUGHT YOU’D BEEN CRUSHED BY AN AGING HOUSE AND YOU’RE TRYING TO BE FUNNY!”

Felicity tried to intercede, “Sara honey, I’m okay I just lost track of time while I was doing my visual inspection.”

Sadly her best friend wasn’t yet done, “OH DON’T YOU HONEY ME! I WAS SCARED AND, NO THAT’S NOT SOMETHING I ENJOY FEELING!”

Felicity pressed the receiver to her lips and, growled, “Well I get to feel this way about once a damn week so welcome to my world.

Oliver’s lips twitched when she finally pressed the phone back to her ear. Sara must have calmed down since she was now mumbling, “Why can’t you for once not use my nature against me…”

Felicity’s small smile returned. Oliver’s eyes danced as her lips curved. Her blue eyes met his forcing her to mouth, “Don’t….”

He held up his hands in mock surrender as he mouthed back, “What?”

She wagged her index finger suggestively while Sara rambled, “Well anyways are you still at the haunted manor?”

Felicity had to swallow a giggle when Oliver’s brows twitched, “Yeah, it’s dusty but, not haunted so I’ll just camp out in a spare room to finish my observations and then I’ll do the outside tomorrow.”

“Ewww you’re going to sleep there?”

Felicity did her patented eye roll, “Yes because I’m tired and the bed and breakfast isn’t open until tomorrow,” she answered quickly which made her silent, smirking partner gasp in fake shock.

“Okay but, seriously if you don’t check in at 8am I’m going to send a chopper with about ten thousand police officers up there to that damn mountain to find you,” she sweetly teased while also being deadly serious.

“Yeah, yeah,” Felicity chirped before ending the call and stashing the phone back into her pocket. She saw Oliver’s eyebrows curve, “What?” she asserted plainly towards his shocked if not bemused face.

“I see you and Sara are still thick as thieves,” he commented in vague understanding of their sisterly bond.

Felicity shrugged, “Yeah well she’s also my roommate so…”

“So….does she know about our lost night?” Oliver pressed with interest.

“Nope, she’s unaware of my foolish choice that night,” Felicity lied as he placed his elbows along his knees.

She tilted her head as he grinned, “Why won’t you admit that you’re still in love with me?”

She smiled then bit at her lower lip, “I’d admit it if it were the least bit true…”

He chuckled but sighed in amused defeat, “Well since you’re staying you can take the bed and, I’ll sleep on the floor if that works for you?” he offered in order to end the conversation on a flirtatious note.

Felicity shook her head in dismay, “You know apparently you’ve forgotten that while I won’t admit to having any positive feelings for you I’m not cold hearted.”

Oliver rose to his own defense, “I was trying to be considerate…”

Felicity just let her chin fall to her chest, “I get the left side and, if you even think about touching my I’ll knee you in the crotch got it?”

She didn’t have to see him to know her query was met with a mixture of fear and, happiness. “I sleep without a shirt…” he mentioned just to goad her.

She shrugged, “I’m usually nude…”

“I wouldn’t want you to change your routine for me…” he gasped in complete shock. She giggled at her small joke while he continued to croak nervously, “You’re teasing me aren’t you?”

She felt her body heave forward in amusement, “Yes but, someone’s arrogance called for it…”

“I hate it when you do that,” he snarled as the mattress beneath him creaked.

She inched forward and, up as he shifted to make room for her on the bed. She mumbled, “I usually at least brush my teeth…”

He gestured with his chin while mumbling, “Bathroom’s all yours my friend.

She cracked her back by leaning from side to side slowly. “But my bag’s outside…” she realized almost sadly.

“Then use my shirt and toothbrush,” he yawned before adding with another yawn, “problem solved.

She was almost through the open doorway when she whispered a amused, “My hero.”

He managed to let out a sluggish, “Only because I love you,” as she slowly closed the door.

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