#why would u actively work towards having DID this shit sucks
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just learned abt transDIDâŚâŚ..
#yâallâŚ. im Tired#i had to read the word cisDID with my own 2 eyes đ#why would u actively work towards having DID this shit sucks#like#⌠idk#at least theyre saying the quiet part out loud#unlike most endos lol#anti endo#anti transid#syscourse#transids are all fucked#saying shit like transtrauma & transramcoa Fuck Off#transramcoa is even fucking worse than transdid#its all bad it all sucks pls just go get a hobby i promise u dont need to make urself miserable doing this shit#while simultaneously making the rest of us look fucking stupid!!!
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đśâ¨ when u get this u have to put 5 songs u actually listen to. then send this ask or tag 10 of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool)â¨đś
i'll kill you for cursing me @unclekow
the best way to describe what im listening to at any given moment is that im either playing the soundtrack to an anime that only exists in my head or attempting to block out all psychic attacks inflicted upon me from the world with the power of jazz and 90's/00's japanese alt rock and hip hop.
Get Down to Business, aka the Order Sol Theme by Daisuke Ishiwatari
It's the Sol Badguy music. It's the ultimate cool old guy who sucks music. I have a cool old guy who sucks that I've been thinking about. It's important for my delusions.
Lay Back by Lotus Juice
I am a *very* big fan of acoustic hip-hop, and I also really like japanese rap. I haven't actually listened to Lotus Juice that much (my teenage years were still defined squarely by Nujabes and his contemporaries!) but I've found this introduction to his work to be interesting! I'm looking forward to listening to more of it.
P.H.D. - Portable Headphone Dancefloor by 2mello
You, a buffoon, might say its cheating to list a whole album. I, a genius, would claim that its sacrilege to not treat a house mix as one whole song. If I were to take a single pick from it, dreamin on its own is probably my favorite track out of it all, so much so that I have spliced it out and extended it for my own listening. I've been a fan of 2mello for awhile now and I can safely say that every album he makes is my favorite of his until he makes the next.
Ka Bohaleng / On the Sharp Side by Abel Selaocoe
I don't talk about it much, but I was actually raised in a family that practiced and professionally performed Traditional West African Drum and Dance. As a result, I've always been partial to traditional/ethnic music worldwide, especially African music, and Abel Selaocoe is like the holy grail of such. His work can be described as "classically trained baroque that is distinctly African in nature," and I regularly stream his live performances and studio album. If there is anything in this list I would beg you hear, it is this song, and to a further extent, his performance at Cologne Jazzweek.
Akaneiro ga Moeru Toki/čč˛ăçăăă¨ă by Scoobie Do
This thing snuck up on me towards the start of the summer and blew my tits clean off. I'm a person very much trapped in the pre-2010's, especially the late 90's-late aughts. As I get older, I lean less and less towards new media and instead indulge in rediscovering older stuff. I have never watched a Gungrave. I have never played a Gungrave. But I have managed to get my hands on the majority of Scoobie Do's discography and play it regularly. The band is still active, but like all things, I am obsessed with their mini-album Kaze no Koibito, which has this song on it. Please listen to this song and please listen to Scoobie Do. The band is called Scoobie Do man, just do it.
HONORABLE MENTION:
Sleepy Head by the pillows
Earlier this spring, I finally watched Fooly Cooly for the first time ever, after maybe 6 years of people twice my age asking why I had never seen it when it seemed to be so completely grafted to my tastes. Well I did, and then I immediately drew my catgirl holding a guitar because of it. I'm not normal after that show. "Why did they keep asking you why you'd never seen it" I hear you asking. *ahem*
Because I've been listening to its soundtrack and the rest of the pillows discography since I was like. Twelve.
Don't ask me how I found it because I do not know. But between Ride on Shooting Star and this, I've returned to the FLCL soundtrack maybe once every 2 months for about a decade. This isn't propaganda to watch the anime, but it is propaganda to listen to the soundtrack.
@teffiniwynn, @kdinjenzen, @puyopuyo, @shukitanuki, @qwk, @lamphoera, @yuleloggu, @alien-tidays, @girlballs, @ockitten
im gonna go daydream about cringe shit goodnight
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longwinded kink talk including discussion of specific kinks/my experiences and also discussion of CSA + grooming
genuinely a bit embarrassing being as bothered as i am by like. fuck. i hate "kink shaming" as a term partly cuz i think "shaming" as a descriptor of stigmatization is silly but also because i associate the phrase with people being incredibly annoying about the concept in Many Different Ways ranging from "earnestly treating kink like an axis of oppression" to the opposite end of treating kink as inherently negative and a punchline in and of itself and discomfort with "kink shaming" as the funniest thing ever
it's just like. on one hand i think that many online kink spaces especially more isolated ones feature deeply eroded boundaries and encourage boundary crossing in ways that are quantifiably harmful. but also there is a lot of "kink critical" talk that at best stems from personal discomfort and deep misunderstanding of how kinks work resulting in negative assumptions, and at worst is actively reactionary and itself veering into fash territory about policing "abnormality"
i havent poked that deeply into discussions of fantasies and where they come from and how they affect people internally because the topic gets triggering for me easily but i think a lot about the degree to which fantasy and arousal is just. so personal. and what someone Thinks is the erotic appeal of a specific topic/act to people who are into it, may actually be entirely different that the appeal some people actually find
like not to extremely show my ass but being a lifelong Vore Guy has given me some perspective around it cuz vore is sooooo widely joked about/misunderstood and theres not one singular Vore Fandom bc there are so many microfetishes and preferences and what different people like about it is so different from others who also like it
but also insofar as "kink shaming" or whatever u want to call it does material harm... i do think it is something that can isolate and harm people, especially young people, who are made to feel so strange and disgusting that we would tolerate any treatment from people who show acceptance towards it <- thing that happened to me as a real life teenager
i remember ages ago seeing people getting up in arms about a post along the lines of "protect kinky kids" and like yeah that phrasing sucks and i get why people were grossed out by it but like.... unironically we need to lol and by that i very straightforwardly mean "we need to include age-appropriate discussion of kink as part of sex education specifically so that kids are not made to feel so abnormal and isolated that they seek out friendship from literal predators" <- thing that happened to me as a real life teenager
ive been thinking about this for a while but especially since that callout post circulating abt that person running a mastodon instance specifically for connecting kids/teens to predatory adults and that included posts and profiles of teens being targeted like... how do you think that kind of public humiliation and exposure is going to affect teens who are already in danger. do you think blasting them for identifying as "adult attracted minors" is making them safer
i get that the idea of kink as something that develops with "normal" sexuality is upsetting to some people but literally it is... my first experiences of my own sexuality (in a safe context but. thats an entire other vent) were vore fantasies and even before i had a sense of sexuality at all i was 1) fascinated by eating/digestion/etc 2) aware that that fascination was not normal 3) extremely embarrassed and ashamed of that fascination; the fascination goes back basically my whole life - i have art from when i first was physically able to draw that makes that clear - while the shame came later, when i was around 7-8. and its like. damn. i did not need to develop so many neuroses because of this shit
rarrrgh this got long and a lot of this ive vented about on twitter before but it feels kind of nice to get it out without dealing with character limits.
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What about our precious Bennett with anyone of your choosing
Oh shit Bennett- that precious boy I- Imma kill that adventurer who said he sucks I swear-
Also stan Razor x Bennett- U-U
While you're mostly someone of good character; always lending friends a helping hand and giving them the best of your support, your luck mechanism sort of ruins the help, and might end up turning the tables on them in a bad way.
Despite all, you're a very optimistic individual, and you look towards the light up ahead of the tunnel. Despite all odds, you push on. And that's what makes you strong.
TWST The unlucky but optimistic s/o (Bennett)
Trey Clover
Never in his life has he ever made a mess in the kitchen,
until he met you.
For some reason, no one did anything, but everything went haywire. Let's just say, you two found some trouble with Riddle, something he didn't expect.
"What on earth happened in here?! Trey!"
"No, no! Riddle, it wasn't Trey's fault..! It's... my fault.. I.. probably started the mechanism again.."
Mechanism? Trey and Riddle would soon realize that whenever you tag along with someone, bad luck would always be on your side with them, and bring the people you're with down.
Trey feels.. sorry. Like, really sorry. It must be hard whenever you try your best to help, only to end up in miserable outcomes.
But you've never gave up. You've never gave up in trying your best to do anything, especially when it comes to being a supportive friend and lover.
And he just can't leave you. Sure, you may bring about taboo for him but, you've never had any ill intentions, he know you can't control your bad luck, and you're just the sweetest cinnamon roll he's ever met, how could he just leave you?
Sometimes, you might be in doubt. Even the brightest of people can't always bring about sunshine to themselves. "Hey, Trey? Why would you still want to be with me.. I've never really brought about anything good, and we've only manage to get out of trouble by our skins.. I'm just really sorry someone as nice as you would have to go through all this because of me..."
Trey simply takes your hand, and uses his thumb to rub it in soothing circles.
"You've always been my charm, s/o. I wouldn't trade the world for you." <3
Jade Leech
He can't understand.
He's messed up so badly.
Ever since you worked in Monstro Lounge, and he was instructing you, everything drowned into chaos. And this time, it was somehow you and him that seemed to start it. Not Floyd.
The drink glasses were scattered every where, plates were broken and there quite a handful of unhappy customers.
"Jade?! You don't usually mess up your duties like this! What in sevens happened???"
"Ah! Wait, Azul! I.. well- um- it's hard to explain but- none of this was Jade's fault. It's mine! I.. probably started all this because of my whole bad luck seeping through the situation.... sorry.."
What bad luck? Apparently, it's happened to you since young. All the time when you're with someone, luck would never be on your side, and would potentially bring about hefty troubles to many.
How unfortunate, aiyah~
While Azul doesn't really know how to help you, making a potion to ease the bad luck might be something very advanced-
Jade would look out for you.
As much as you're always bringing about bad luck, you can't control it, he knows. And you have always been the sweetest little angelfish who tries your best to help him, like a true lover. Oh, such a sweet little thing you are, he can just eat you up~ Not literally, don't worry, darling-
But he would always be by your side, no matter how bad of the situation you make. He doesn't mind. It can be rather entertaining as each problem that arises is very unexpected; the way he likes. All sorts of drama can take place, and it can somehow be all resolved in the most peculiar ways by you. How fascinating~
" Jade? I was wondering... why won't you leave me? Not to say I don't like being with you! Trust me..! I really do! But.. well... am I not a problem for you to deal with?? I feel bad you're in all the troubles I stir up because of my mechanism..."
He only chuckles softly, gliding his finger on your locks as he traces and pushes it to the back of your ear. "My sweet angelfish. How could I ever leave someone who has brought me so much color in my life now, hmm?~ I could never leave someone as sweet as you~" <3
Malleus Draconia
Malleus.. doesn't quite know how to feel. But he was very much surprised.
He... well... his magic had somehow went out of hand, and now burnt paper were spiraling around the two of you, as some burnt parts of the paper became ash littered on the cobblestone floor of his room.
Lilia seemed to have stepped in with a surprised look on him as well, slightly amused by what has happened.
"Oh my~ What seemed to have happened in here?"
"Ah! Lilia-senpai! Oh no... I'm so sorry! Malleus and Lilia! None of this is anybody's fault except my own! I... I guessed I've activated the mechanism without caution again..."
What is this mechanism you speak of? Your mechanism apparently brings about bad luck to those around you, and might cause some havoc if you aren't cautious to your surroundings... though, sometimes you the mechanism can activate at any given time..
Malleus could help reduce such of the situation considering his vast knowledge of magic can help in anything.
But then again, that bad luck is natural, the best he can do is reduce it and make sure you aren't harmed.
To Malleus, there's nothing wrong with you.
You have always been supportive and kind towards him, and you've been the sweetest friend and lover for him that he could throw that bad luck of yours out of the window. You have always been the optimistic sunshine in his life who have always seen the best and worse in him and still stay by his side to care for him the best you can. It's the thought that counts
He can reduce such, but solely for the purpose of keeping you safe, and prevent such hazards that can harm you.
"Malleus, someone like you... shouldn't.. well- your the greatest wizard of them all! And I'm... just someone with extremely bad luck.. hehe... I'm not sure what I can even do for you.."
Malleus only places a hand to cover both of yours, he looks at you with a gentle gaze before softly replying, "You have given me all the love and happiness in the world. I should be the one wondering why I have someone as great as you. But.. perhaps, I've seen the both of us being a perfect fit for one another. Nothing can take over your place of being first to come to my mind" <3
#twst#twisted wonderland#trey clover x reader#jade leech x reader#malleus draconia x reader#twst x reader#twisted wonderland x reader#trey clover#jade leech#malleus draconia#twst headcanon#twst x reader headcanon#twisted wonderland x reader headcanon#twisted wonderland headcanon#twst x reader fluff#twst fluff#twst trey#twst jade#twst malleus#twst trey x reader#twst jade x reader#twst malleus x reader
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tension headache
Ground Zero x Publicist!Reader
wc: 2.2k
âBeing Ground Zeroâs publicist comes with its own set of challenges, luckily there are quite a few benefits to sweeten the deal.â warnings: anal play, dirty talk, light degradation, light spanking, d/s undertones (or overtones w/e), bakugo being the king of bullies
authorâs note: iâve been writing this since august and itâs finally done. special thanks to @lady-bakuhoeâ, @some-kindofgnomeâ, and @nightly-talesâ for betaing!Â
Your head is throbbing. The sort of building tension headache you became most familiar with in high school; the kind that starts in the morning and gets stronger with every little irritant. Youâre sure it's a tension headache from having your shoulders hunched up to your ears most of the day, a seemingly ever-constant by-product of trying to keep Pro Hero Ground Zero from biting a journalism student's head off. The obscenely large TV hanging above the receptionistâs desk plays Ground Zeroâs greatest hits on mute as your heels click-clack towards the steel and glass elevators.Â
Itâs almost the end of his patrol and you know heâll be up soon, sidekicks and assistants (two this month, because the first had the good sense to resign soon, lucky bastard) in tow. Four consecutive texts rattle your phone in your pocket to confirm this. Each one an iteration of âon our way up!.â Waving at his secretary, you let yourself into his office setting your purse on the floor. Further behind you can already hear the clamor of voices and activity that announces Ground Zeroâs arrival, people no doubt scurrying out of his warpath lest they incur his wrath. He pushes open the heavy door and says nothing to acknowledge your presence.Â
Your forehead throbs with irritation at the snub. You know itâs only a matter of time before either of you begin to push the otherâs buttons but your employer seems to have a secondary quirk he uses only for you.
You like to call it Extreme Irritation.
âWould it kill you to be nicer to the press?â You give first, sitting on the overstuffed leather couch pushed against the easternmost wall underneath a frankly, unnecessarily large, framed photo of U-Aâs graduating class. âWhy do you insist on making my job so hard?â
âCanât pay you for fucking nothing,â he scoffs, leaning against the desk in the center of his office. Carefully he divests himself of his gauntlets, handing one to his senior assistant, and placing its twin onto the desk next to his big gaudy nameplate, muttering; âTake this to Yumikawa, I think I broke the fucking thing.â When heâs halfway past the threshold, Ground Zero adds, âAnd tell her to do better with her shitty paint jobs!â His gaze snaps to the newest recruit, a tiny shivering thing who looks like a stiff wind could blow her over, âWhat the fuck are you standing there for? Go with him! Do I have to fucking tell you everything?â
She practically leaves a dust cloud in her wake. You roll your eyes and begin reading through news updates on your tablet, nails clicking lightly against the screen. Tweet after tweet and article after article summarize Ground Zeroâs latest exploit, every title and byline more sensational than the last.
âGround Zero Overshadows Daring Rescue with Another Tirade!â
âIs Ground Zero the Meanest Pro-Hero Ever?!â
âimagine ground zero calling you stupid 𼴠#imaholeâ
You could almost laugh if it werenât for the startlingly large amount of retweets on that last one. Finally, the pro hero deigns to address you; âI did as you asked, I smiled, I laughed, I didn't blow anyone up.â He actually sounds proud. You blubber in shock. âYou called the reporter a fuck wit! They can't even air that!â For good measure you hold up the tablet to replay a heavily edited fancam of Ground Zero sneering at some poor junior reporter. âIsn't that what you wanted? Less of my insults on TV?â He is so smug, it drives you crazy. âNot like that!â You toss the tablet onto the couch beside you and stand, stomping towards Bakugo, whoâs leaning against his desk, clenching his jaw, arms crossed, as if he didnât spend the entire morning making you wish youâd never laid eyes on him. The two of you are growing more and more irritated with each other and itâs evident in the rapidly rising volume of your conversation.
"I'm serious, if you want to be âNumber Oneâ,â you stress through your teeth, âpeople have to like you, at least a little bit. That. Includes. The. Press.â Every word is punctuated with a strong poke to his sternum, and you try to ignore the pain of jabbing your finger into his brick wall of a chest. It feels as though the pristine white collar of your button-up shirt is digging into your throat while you try to restrain yourself from biting his stupid, perfect nose off.
Now itâs Bakugoâs turn to roll his eyes, âPeople like me.â He looks to his sidekicks for confirmation and you pointedly ignore them bobbing their heads in unison.
âWho?! Who are these people that like you?â
Bakugo gestures wildy at his sidekicks, âThey like me!â
âTheyâre afraid of you! They respect you but they donât like you!â You shake your head in disbelief.
âYou like me!â He barks at you.
You almost choke on your surprised laughter. He really was absolutely ridiculous.
âI have to like you, you pay me!â Â
âThatâs right. I sign your cheques, you deal with all the media bullshit and make me look good.â
âYou make it impossible for me!â If it werenât for the intense tunnel vision your arguing was giving you, you would have seen Ground Zeroâs sidekicks inching slowly towards the door.
âWell maybe youâre just shit at your job!â He turns away from you to push papers to the side of his desk, the gesture a clear dismissal that only serves to rile you further.
âOh fucking bite me, Katsuki!â As soon as itâs out you slap your hands over your mouth, eyes wide as dinner plates.
You were exhausted and tense and so mad but itâs not what you agreed on, never at work and never in front of subordinates. In an instant itâs like all the airâs been sucked out of the room. Bakugoâs expression is furious when he whirls on you. You chance a look over at his assistants and all colour has left their faces, âImpressive,â you think idly, âConsidering Haruto is literally purple.âÂ
âOut. Now.â He growls, and his teeth are clenched together so hard you think they might shatter, his throat is rapidly turning red and his hands are clenching and unclenching around nothing. The sidekicks hesitate and youâre a little grateful for their loyalty.Â
âFucking out. NOW!â He yells, and they nearly fall over each other trying to get out the door.Â
âAnd there goes the loyalty,â you murmur while you watch their hasty retreat. âIâm sorry,â you say, turning to face him head-on, apology punctuated with the slamming shut of his office door. You focus on the wall of windows behind him, the city skyline slowly lighting up in the nighttime, preparing for an infamous Ground Zero meltdown. âThat was inappropriate, especially in front of subordinates.â Idly, you wonder what the theme this time will be; Disrespect? Insubordination? Or just a good old-fashioned dress down? Heâd become quite wordy over the years, you were almost beginning to enjoy them.
While you muse Bakugou inches closer to you, cheeks a mottled red. His shoulders rise and fall repeatedly, like heâs bringing himself down from the peak of his anger. For a moment you think heâll just outright scream in your face, but when he pulls you, first towards him and then past him until your stomach presses against his desk, you realize quickly what heâs planning.Â
His forearm presses against your back until youâre bent over his desk, your hands palm down between the wood and your chest to prevent your face meeting the cool oak. Itâs bordering on humiliating how easy he can manipulate you. But they donât teach hand to hand combat in the business sector, and although youâd toyed with the idea - being in a high-risk industry and all - you never put stock in seriously learning.Â
The blondâs hand snakes over your shoulder, slightly damp palm advancing until itâs pressed against the smooth flesh of your throat. Katsuki pulls you towards him this way, and for a short moment breathing is a laboured task. The other hand makes quick work of divesting you of your skirt and underwear, coming down in an instant to make contact with your bare ass. He rubs at it covetously, a shallow attempt at soothing your stinging skin.Â
Thereâs no formality when he thrusts into you, only a few seconds between feeling the head of his cock parting your embarrassingly slick folds and him being fully seated within you. You grit your teeth against a whine, fingers scrambling for purchase when he withdraws and fucks into you again, and then again, pace slowly gaining momentum until you can swear the heavy oak desk (and seriously that thing weighs a fucking ton) is shifting with the force. Your stomach presses painfully into the gilded metal decorating its edge but itâs good. Katsuki is so fucking good at taking you apart with every inch he drives into you. Above you he mutters lowly about how fucking wet you are, how eager you mustâve been all day, waiting for him to fill you. It goes on like this for a while, you bouncing between his hips and the desk, him whispering filthy, untrue shit in your ears that makes your nipples hard and your breathing shallow.Â
He places his free hand on your back, first up under your shirt, then slowly slides it down, until itâs resting on the roundness of your ass again. You donât know what heâs planned till his thumbâs parted you, sliding softly over the clenched furl of muscle above your stretched open cunt.Â
âBakugou, no!â you whisper hoarsely, your voice just edging on hysterical as you struggle against his hold.Â
âExcuse me?â He hisses between his teeth, thrusts not slowing for a second. The hand around your throat tightens and when he pulls you closer so his sneering mouth is brushing the shell of your ear, you unwillingly tighten around his dick in response.Â
â(Y/N),â his voice is almost pleasant, and had you not been split open on his cock in his office, youâd ask him who taught him an âinterview voiceâ.Â
âCan you tell me who's name is on the building?â While he teases you, you can feel yourself getting wetter around him, thighs tensing and relaxing with the sensation of being spread open beneath him.
âYours.â You wish you could fall through the fucking floor.
âIâm sorry?â His thumb presses a little more insistently against your pucker. The pressure is foreign, but not at all bad. Dear God, youâre really about to let him do this to you.
âYours, sir.â You pant, the burning sensation in your cheeks and neck a mix of exertion and shame.
âFucking say it,â Katsuki tightens his hold on your throat and your whimpers are barely audible over the sound of his hips brutally meeting your ass.
âG-Ground Zero.â you choke out through your clenched teeth.Â
âOh good, so you can read!â Katsuki releases you from his hold and you fall forward. With every thrust, your feet lift off the floor, and you lurch forward like a ragdoll. Katsuki pushes his thumb further inside you, belly-laughing when you cry out in pleasure.
âWhereâd all that resistance go, sweetheart?â His digit fucks in and out of you in tandem with his cock, keeping you full constantly. âYou know what? Next time, Iâm gonna take my time stretching you, keep you wide open, maybe you can wear a plug for me, huh? And then after youâve been soft and needy all day, Iâll slide right into you, fuck you till you gape for me.âÂ
Youâre incapable of firing back, mouth occupied with moaning incoherently while you drool against the desk. Katsuki chokes off his own moan, using his unoccupied hand to hike up your leg so he can have easier access to your clit. The calloused pad of his fingertips press hard against you. He goes so slow, pushing and nudging at you until your entire body feels feverish and your climax takes you by surprise, forcing a yelp from your lips when your legs begin to shake.Â
âThatâs it. Come for me. Come on my dick.â Once heâs sure you're done, he pulls his finger from your ass and releases your leg, blanketing your back with his chest. His hips are quick to lose their rhythm as he fills you, ropes of his spend coating your insides. Katsuki shudders against you, hands running a course along your hips. He pulls away, the evidence of your time together sliding down the inside of your thigh without Katsukiâs cock to hold it in.
âIâm going back to working for Hawks.â Your voice is hoarse when you can finally speak again and levering your chest up off the desk onto shaky knees only serves to make your head spin more. You glare at your boss your boyfriend as he dresses.
Katsukiâs grin is derisive while he tucks his softening dick away, âLike fuck, you love working for me way too much to work for that fuckinâ pretty boy.â He leans down in front of you and slides your underwear up from your ankles back into place, followed by your skirt before pressing soft lips to your forehead, smoothing his hands over your cheeks.Â
At least your headache is gone.
taglist: @enjifuckersupreme @pleasantanathema
#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugo x you#bnha x reader#bnha bakugo#bnha x you#ground zero#ground zero x reader#bnha ground zero#katsuki x reader#kechiwrites
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Request from @iwannagotospaceforeverâ: Could u do a Fred Weasley x reader maybe with prompt 12 and 13???
12: âIâm Fine!â âY/n, there's blood coming out of your head!â
13: âYouâre cute when you want to stab meâ
A/N: I love this!!! I hope you guys enjoy, feel free to leave me any feedback or requests you might have <3
Prompt: You and Fred have been friends for a while, youâll hang out together on school grounds, pull pranks with Fred, and just seem to get along well, unless its on the quidditch pitch, where your competitive natures can get a bit out of hand.
Warnings: Reader is not in the same house as Fred (Gryffindor), Swearing, mentions of blood, Frenemies type shit, Fluff, terrible quidditch writing
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
You walked onto the quidditch pitch, resting your broom against your shoulder as you swung your other arm, excited for game day. You were determined to win this round, Gryffindor having won the last couple games, and you were not going to let your house fall into the same fate. You had been getting up early the past two weeks, trying out new flying techniques, working on your stamina, and practicing chaser moves with Fred.Â
You and Fred have been friends since fourth year, having met in Snape's potions class when your concoction may have blown up in Snapeâs face. After that you were constantly hanging out. Fred joined in of course, pulling pranks and just talking about random things in general, but for some reason, you and the older twin just had a connection. It might have had something to do with your competitive natures constantly keeping each other on your toes.
You spotted him on the other side of the field with George, each carrying their beaters gear and walking to the Gryffindor rest area. His eyes met yours and a smile spread across his face as he waved.Â
âYouâre going downâ He mouthed, his hand that was once waving now having a thumb pointing downwards. You smiled back.
âFuck offâ You mouthed back, going to give him the bird before you suddenly remembered Dumbledore was watching, and he probably wouldnât appreciate the gesture.
Fred made a fake sad face, making you laugh a bit before returning the gesture. Suddenly Lee Jordan's voice rang through the bleachers.
âGood afternoon everyone and welcome to the third game of the season, today we have Gryffindor against (Y/H). Lets have a good game, and may the best team win.
This signaled for you and the rest of your team to get on your brooms and fly up to the starting point, forming a circle with the other chasers on your team as well as the chasers on Gryffindor.
There was a bit of silence, before madam Hooch opened the trunk, releasing the bludgers and the golden snitch, before finally throwing the Quaffle into the air, officially starting the game.
After a few minutes you had finally gotten your hand on the quaffle, headed to the goal, and towards Fred and George. You saw George moving to block your left, and moved right, now having to face Fred. You had been practicing with him for the past few weeks, so you knew his weak spots, but he also knew yours. You faked going for the far right goal before quickly turning and going through the middle, scoring your team a point.
âThat's ten points to (Y/H)!â Leeâs voice rang out, causing cheers and boos to ring through the crowd. You flew up beside Fred, having a moment before the next play started.
âYou need to up your game Weasleyâ You said jokingly
âPlease I saw you from a mile awayâ He joked back, suddenly making you think that he might have let you score.
âI swear to God Weasley, if you are going easy on me im going to kill youâ You said, giving him a look, before starting to fly off, but not before Fred got in the last word.
âYou look so cute when you want to stab me!â He said, causing you to look back at him and giving him a pose, causing the both of you to laugh, but secretly you had butterflies going insane in your stomach.
Did Fred Weasley just call you cute? You werenât blind, you thought the twin were quite attractive, but every once in a while, you couldnât help but think about Fred specifically, about how the sun caught his hair, or how his eyes crinkled when he smiled, or how he was able to laugh every day, but also made sure that you felt heard.Â
You were quickly snapped out of your thoughts however when you made it back to the starting circle, putting your focus back into the game.
A few rounds later and you were 20-20 with Gryffindor. You had just gotten the ball again and was headed towards the goal, Fred facing you, a smirk on his face which only motivated you more. You were only a few seconds to scoring the goal, when Fred's face changed from irritating smugness, to worry. You didnât have time to make out what he was saying before the right side of your head suddenly erupted with a sharp pain, and you were spiraling towards the ground.
The fact that you were still on your broom didnât make the fall to bad, but before you knew what had happened, you were laying on your back looking at the sky.
âLooks like one of (Y/H) chasers got a good knock by one of the bludgers, that gotta hurtâ Lee Jordan said
Madam Hooch was knelt beside you, asking you about the pain when Fred suddenly landed next you, running over and kneeling by your side.
âI know you said to not go easy on you but I swear it wasnât meâ He said, quickly, causing you to laugh a little.
âFucking cowardâ You mumbled suddenly realizing that the game was still going on.
âFred what are you doing go play Iâm fine!â you said, finally sitting all the way up, your head spinning a bit.
âY/n, there is blood coming out of your head!â Fred said, making you lift your hand to poke the side of your head, only to pull it back to see blood. Before you could say anything else to get Fred back to the game, Lee Jordan's voice rang through the crowd.
âHarry Potter has captured the Golden snitch! Gryffindor wins!â Lee said, causing the crowd to cheer.
âWell that sucksâ You groaned. All the practice, only for the golden boy to catch the snitch AGAIN. You reached out your hand to Fred, motioning for him to help you up, which he took. However as soon as you were on your feet your head started to spin, but Fred saw you sway and caught you.
âI want you to go straight to the medical wing to make sure you don't have a concussion, Weasley can you take them?â Madam hooch said, making you roll your eyes.
âI donât need to-â You started, not thinking your injury was such a big deal
âI would be happy toâ Fred said before smiling at you, you glaring at him in return.
A few minutes later and you were sitting cross legged on on of the bed in the hospital wing, Fred making it his job to annoy you while Madam Pomfry to checked on you.
âBe honest doc, how long do they haveâ Fred said, causing you to roll your eyes and swat his arm, which caused him to laugh.
âY/N will be living for a long while, but you do have a very mild concussion, so I donât want you to do anything labor intensive for the next week.
âWhat? But quidditch!â you practically yelled, horrified at the news.
âI donât want to hear it, now at the end of the week, I want you to come back in so we can see how youâre healing, as for the rest of the day I want you to relaxâ Madam Pomfry said, giving you a sympathetic look before leaving to check up on someone who had a bad encounter with the wrong Polyjuice potion.
âIt could be worseâ Fred said, trying to lighten the mood, causing you to glare at him.
âHow could it be worse?â You asked
âWell you could not have me to keep you company!â Fred said, causing you to groan.
âDeath would have been a kinder fateâ You said, before quickly laughing at Fredâs shocked expression. âIâm kidding, Iâm kiddingâ You said, moving to get up, which Fred helped you do without fully realizing it.
âAre you sure you want to stick around? I canât do any strenuous activities so Iâm basically the most boring person in the world right nowâ You said, causing Fred to shake his head.
âImpossible, you could never be boring, but I have an idea if youâre up to it?â Fred asked, quirking a brow which made you suspicious, but you agreed non the less, nodding your head.
âExcellent, adventure awaits!â He said, before walking off while still having his arm around you.
A while later and you were sitting outside by the black lake, underneath a tree. You had been spending the last few minutes throwing rocks in the water, just watching the ripples.
âYou think the squid is mad that we keep throwing rocks in his house?â You asked, causing Fred to laugh a bit.
âWhy do you think I brought you along? If he suddenly wants to kill us I know you're going to be way slower than me.â Fred laughed, laughing even louder when you shoved his shoulder.
âTypical, you only bring me places to benefit your secret agendaâ You joked, leaning your back against the tree.
âNah, you're to pretty to sacrificeâ He said, suddenly tensing up realizing he just said that.
You were feeling something similar, your face heating up as you shook your head, trying to dismiss the comment as something platonic. He just felt bad because you got hit.
âFred, I am in dirty quidditch clothes, with crazy hair and a bruise on the side of my head, I wouldnât describe myself as pretty right nowâ You said, thinking he would make a joke and that would be the end of it.
âWell I disagreeâ He said, the sincerity in his voice surprising you, you turned to look at him to see he was already looking at you, before looking down at his hands.
âYou really scared me todayâ He started âWhen I saw you get hit, and saw you falling, I was so scared. I kept thinking of how it happened, how I could have stopped it, how you were probably out cold, but then I got down there, and you were the same you always were, calling me lame for not intentionally trying to kill my friend at quidditchâ He finished, his joking tone returning a bit.
âI think the term I used was cowardâ You said, smiling a bit.
âYeah, that I am, not because of quidditch thoughâ Fred said, smiling a bit, but you werenât, stuck trying to think about what he could be talking about.
âFred, you pull pranks on professors for fun. You stole your parents car, for fun. I donât need to say all the crazy things youâve done to know youâre not a coward. Why do you think that?â You asked.
âBecause I never told you about how I really feltâ Fred said. Suddenly the butterflies in your stomach returned, causing your face to heat up.
âWhat?â You asked, not quite believing what you were hearing.
âI like you Y/n, I have for a while, but I haven't said anything because I was afraid you wouldnât feel the same way, and I didnât want to ruin our friendshipâ He said, still not looking in your eye and instead looking out on the lake.
âWell then I guess where both cowardsâ You said, causing Fredâs head to suddenly snap to look at you, which made you laugh a bit.
âWhat?â It was now Fredâs turn to look shocked. Instead of answering, you just shake your head and put a hand on his cheek, closing the space between you two and connecting your lips. Fred took no time to respond, moving his hand to gently cup the side of your face that wasnât bruised. We stayed like that for a moment, before finally pulling away for air.
âWell, that was unexpectedâ Fred said, making you laugh.
âWhat that I like you back or that Iâm such an amazing kisser even with a head injuryâ You said, making him laugh in return.
âSpeaking of which, maybe we should stop, Pomfry said no strenuous activity and I wouldnât want to-â Fred started but you knew he was joking.
âJust shut it and kiss me dumb assâ You said, smiling as he reconnected your lips again, this time the kiss going a bit further, his tongue sweeping your bottom lip. You opened your mouth, your hands moving to his hair and-
âOi no snogging with a concussion!â George suddenly yelled from a bit a ways, Oliver and some of your team mates following.
âMind your own businessâ Fred said, making you laugh.
âAnd here we are, trying to be good friends and make sure you haven't died or somethingâ George said, shaking his head in feign disappointment. âThis couldnât have waited a week?â
âNo!â You and Fred said in unison, causing the group to laugh before making their way back to the school, wanting to give you two some privacy, but not before George gave Fred a quick thumbs up, glad that he finally made his move.
âWell Iâm glad you didnât wait to tell meâ You said once everyone was out of earshot.
âMe neither, except we still have to wait a week to-â Fred started, a suggestive smirk on his face.
âFred Weasley I swear to God!â You yelled swatting his chest, causing him to fall into a fit of laughter which you quickly followed. Maybe getting hit by a bludger isnât the worst thing that could happen.
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Ah, to be hit in the head by a giant ball and be comforted by Fred Weasley. The Dream. TBH I know this ending is trash! But still I hope you enjoyed it, let me know if you have any recommendations or feedback! Also @iwannagotospaceforeverâ I hope you liked it!
#fred weasley#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley fanfic#fred weasley headcannon#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley x reader#fred weasley x y/n#george weasley#Harry Potter
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Hmm could do one where one one of boys has rough day, that leads to emotional overeating, and bellyache that they try to hide until they can't. Please and thank.
aaaaaa, lovely!
I went with Totty because it feels like I haven't written him in a while
and there's a tiny bit of Allmatsu, buuuut really it's mostly Cybermatsu :D
hope you like it, I had a lot of fun with it!
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Most of the time, Totty thinks he does a pretty good job being composed at work.
However, thatâs easy to do when the majority of the days are okay. Sometimes thereâs a bad moment or two that he can recover from by the time he gets home; never before has it been an entire day full of nothing but bad moments.
Until today, of course.
Itâs just been one awful thing after another. One of his brothers accidentally turned off the alarm clock, probably by hitting it or steadying themself against it while going to the bathroom⌠so he was late to work. When he finally got behind the register, there was already a decent-sized line and the early morning customers were irritable before their coffee. Nearly every single customer during his shift snapped at him in some way even when he was trying to be helpful.
His coworkers were less than pleasant, especially after a couple hours when one of them had to take over for him because he had to go pee. To make things worse, toward the end of the day he managed to smash his fingers in the cash drawer while closing it.
The highlight of the day was when he was on his way out and a customer wanted help. Company policy being that he wasnât allowed to work in any way while he was off the clock, he told them he was actually heading home and pointed to one of his coworkers. Which apparently wasnât good enough, as he was accused of being lazy and not wanting to do his job and told that the customer was going to talk to his manager and have him fired.
Is it any wonder heâs spent almost the whole train ride home in tears? It hasnât been a great day to be Matsuno Todomatsu.
He feels a little better by the time he gets home, but heâs exhausted and overwhelmed by everything that went wrong. Part of him wants to find one of his brothers and bitch his heart out. The other part just wants to shove food into his mouth and pretend none of it ever happened.
Sutabaa allows employees to eat some of the cheap things for free during their break, which Totty doesnât often take advantage of. Heâd rather have a snack at home so he doesnât have to scarf it down in ten minutes. Today, though, he managed to put away a chocolate croissant plus a couple of cookies, so he shouldnât be hungry at all when he gets home.
And heâs not⌠really hungry. He just wants to eat something for the sake of it, so that maybe eating something tasty will make it seem like nothing went wrong today. The food during his break made things seem better for a minute while he ate it. All he wants is more of that feeling, to make believe it wasnât such a bad day.
He doesnât know where any of his brothers are, and he doesnât particularly care. He doesnât think heâd give half a shit if one of them walked in on him raiding the fridge and pantry as if heâs preparing to hibernate through the winter. They all stuff their faces at any available opportunity, so why would it be surprising to find him doing it, especially after a long day at work which none of the rest of them do?
It doesnât even really matter to him what heâs eating, either. Just things that donât require too much time between being in his hand and sliding down his throat.
Thereâs about a portionâs worth of takoyaki left in the fridge from dinner last night, so he finishes that off. Some daifukumochi that was in the cabinet, along with a packet of konpeitĹ. A bag of arare disappears pretty quickly, too. He doesnât really know if the imagawayaki that was sitting on the counter was left for him or if it was a single treat that nobody had fought over yet â regardless, he eats it anyway.
Each bite is a violent attempt to deny the shittiness of this whole day. It all tastes delicious, so he can lose himself inside it for a moment. What never really occurs to him is that every moment doesnât last too long, and even though his stomach isnât built for this kind of eating, heâs reaching for another snack as soon as the last one has dissolved on his tongue.
He throws packaging away as he goes, just to keep things neat. Heâs just biting into his latest snack when someone else walks into the kitchen, and looking up, it turns out to be Choromatsu.
âO-oh, hey, Totty, youâre home. How was work?â He starts ducking into the refrigerator, then suddenly straightens up and gives his youngest brother a curious look. â⌠Uh. Thatâs my Big Katsu. Why are you eating it??â
Given that his teeth are currently sunk into it, Totty feels a little guilty. So at least he doesnât have to fake the expression on his face. âOh⌠sorry, Choro-nii-san! Iâm just really hungry⌠Iâll buy you another one tomorrow.â
After a moment, Choromatsu sighs, evidently deciding to let Totty off the hook rather than fight with him about it. âYeah, thatâs fine. I was saving it, but if I havenât craved it this long, I can wait. Thereâs other stuff I can have for a snack.â He opens the refrigerator door and pulls out a single mini carton of milk, then frowns. âHey, wasnât there some leftover takoyaki in here?â
He huffs as he closes the fridge. âDammit. Osomatsu probably ate the rest of it while I wasnât paying attention, the douche.â
He shakes his head and gets in the pantry for a bag of potato chips instead. âGuess theseâll do till dinner. Hey, Totty, youâre probably still hungry, right? Why donât you share with me? Iâm not starving or anything⌠half a bag would do it for me, I think.â
Tottyâs stomach twinges suddenly, alerting him that he may have eaten too much. Heâs not used to shoveling down this much at one time, though the realization that heâs uncomfortably full doesnât stop him from hurriedly cramming the rest of the Big Katsu into his mouth.
And, honestly, itâs not like he can say no to the offer. He just told his big brother he was hungry and heâs been gulping down food at an insatiable pace. Thinking about the taste of potato chips sort of makes him want some.
Plus⌠Choromatsu is being nice by sharing, despite the fact that Totty already took one of his snacks without even asking. It would be mean to turn that down when heâs just trying to make sure Totty gets fed properly.
So he plasters a smile on and tosses the wrapper before stepping toward his older brother. Everythingâs fine. âAh, yeah⌠sounds good.â
-
Everything is not fine.
Dinner is beginning to be a struggle to get through. Totty hates wasting the food, but his thought is to put it away for later when his stomach isnât actively trying to kill him. The pain is different to anything heâs ever experienced, a feeling like heâs full all the way up to his chest and so canât get a decent breath in. He feels cold and clammy even though he knows heâs sweating. In short, it sucks.
The one thing he counted on was his brothers not noticing that he wasnât eating anything. After sharing the chips with Choromatsu, he started to feel like he was going to burst. Even though the sensation quieted down a little bit, it never quite went away.
Now that heâs been faced with a table full of food, itâs even worse. His stomach is gurgling and swirling and nothing helps. Not taking deep breaths through his nose, not taking tiny sips of his tea, not focusing on any other thoughts. Nothing. Itâs all useless. He thinks that as soon as dinner is over, heâs gonna have to go throw up. No ifs, ands, or buts; one way or another, heâs gonna be sick.
His only hope now is that he can ride it out long enough for everyone to head their separate ways so he doesnât have to face the humiliation of admitting that he ate too much and hurt his stomach.
âU-uh, Totty,â Choromatsu speaks up suddenly, âarenât you gonna eat anything? You were hungry enough to eat my Big Katsu earlier, Iâd have thought you were really looking forward to dinner.â
Ugh. Did he have to???
Totty forces a smile onto his face. âOh, yeah, I⌠I guess Iâm just not in the mood for this stuff tonight, you know?â
The look on Osomatsuâs face could be mistaken for someone whoâd just swallowed a lemon. âWhat?! But Totty, this is your favorite! Youâre not gonna eat any of it? You canât just skip meals like that, dude.â
âYeah,â Ichimatsu hums thoughtfully. âYouâre not gonna be any more healthy or attractive if youâre starving, you know.â
Geez. His brothers are so fucking embarrassing. Choromatsu is giving him some backhanded concern, Osomatsu is overzealous as usual, and Ichimatsu sounds like a Goddamn after-school special.
Karamatsu, meanwhile, is scrutinizing him just the same. âYes, Totty, my brother⌠you look rather pale. You really should eat something!â
âYeah, yeah!â Jyushimatsu practically launches himself over the table, holding a bite of food from his own plate between chopsticks toward his little brotherâs mouth. âHere! Winding up for the pitch⌠batter uuuuuup!â
âUghhhhh!â Totty leans back, even though any movement unsettles his stomach further. âYou guys are ridiculous! Iâm fine! W-what, am I not allowed to have just lost my appetite without every single one of my big brothers making a federal case of it?!â
All the others share a silent look, then there comes a unanimous, âNope.â
He groans and leans his arm against the table. Shit, itâs getting worse. All he wants to do is run to the bathroom and puke, so that maybe heâll actually feel better. If he does that, though, everyone will be on his case about how much he ate instead of how little heâs eating right now. He doesnât need nor want a lecture.
Actually, what he wants more than anything is to just be taken care of and told that itâs okay, he screwed up a bit, itâs not the end of the world. That would require confessing to this stupid mistake, though⌠and he really doesnât want to do that. Heâs so sure that if he does, heâs just going to get scolded instead of comforted.
When he looks around the table again, he notices that Choromatsu in particular looks worried. âCâmon, Totty. You know we care about you. Osomatsu and Ichimatsu are right; itâs not healthy to skip meals.â
âDammit, I know that, Fappymatsu! Just because Iâm pretty doesnât mean Iâm stupid.â Totty scowls down at the food before lifting his eyes back up. âIf I take one bite, will you all get off my back?â
He hates that those words just came out of his mouth. Even if itâs just a single bite, he doesnât think his stomach will be happy with him. The idea of eating anything isnât sitting well with him.
What else can he do, though? Just like with literally everything else, his brothers wonât stop bugging him until he caves in and does whatever they want.
The others exchange a look and Osomatsu shrugs. âYeah, that should do it! Maybe after you take a bite youâll realize how good it is and how hungry you are.â
Shit. Well, now he doesnât really have a way out.
He takes as deep a breath as he feels he can, and collects a bite of food with his chopsticks. Although he isnât sure how noticeable it is, it feels like his hand is shaking as he raises it to his lips.
Maybe itâs better to do it fast and get it over with. So, thatâs what he does. The food in his chopsticks disappears in rapid time, and even though it feels like swallowing a spoonful of glue, he manages to get it down.
âTh-there,â he announces as he slams his chopsticks down. A hiccup squeaks out of him, followed by a fist pressed to his mouth, then he glares around the table at his brothers. âHa⌠happy now? God, you guys are⌠youâre such⌠suchâŚâ
His stomach roils aggressively, almost like heâs just been punched in the gut. He cuts himself off with a loud, painful belch⌠and whines softly, because he knows whatâs coming next. Thereâs no possible way he can stop it, nor can he get up fast enough to make it to the bathroom.
He tries to clap his other hand over his mouth in some childish belief that if he just blocks the exit, so to speak, he wonât be sick. Predictably, it doesnât work.
Only a second and a couple of retches later, Totty has vomited through his hands into his lap. Itâs perhaps more than a little ironic that his attempt to avoid lectures and feeling shameful has led to something incredibly humiliating.
The tears well up almost immediately, and it doesnât take long for him to be sitting here coughing, not quite knowing what to do except cry.
âA-ah, Totty!!â Someoneâs up from their seat, grabbing him gently by the shoulders. It sounds like Choromatsu, he thinks. âHey⌠hey, itâs okay. O-oh, no, no, guys, itâs okay â yeah, Mom, Dad, itâs fine, I-Iâve got him. Totty, hey, câmon. Iâm gonna help you to the bathroom and weâll get you cleaned up. Okay?â
All he can do is nod, and it seems like even the fact that he leans against Choromatsu, all streaked with puke, doesnât bother his brother.
Itâs a short walk to the bathroom. He thinks he hears one of the others getting up to clean whatever mess heâs left behind. He just concerns himself with getting into the bathroom, then with lifting his arms when told so Choromatsu can help peel the soiled clothes off.
âItâs okay, Totty. E-everythingâs alright.â His voice is low and gentle as he manages to also get Tottyâs pants off, hanging everything over the side of the bathtub. If heâs lucky, one of the others will come rinse them off so they can go right in the wash while he tries to take care of getting Totty situated on the couch or something. âIâm gonna take care of you. You just cry as much as you need to, as long as you cooperate with me, okay?â
Totty sniffles, doing his best to stop crying. This is so embarrassing. âO-okayâŚâ
Eventually the crying tapers off a bit, to the point that he can breathe normally again. His mouth has a bad taste and his throat hurts; at least his stomach feels a lot better, though. Heâs just so mortified that he threw up on himself in front of his entire family after trying to save himself from this fate.
What did you think was gonna happen when you ate something else after already being stuffed and nauseous, dummy?? His mind is exactly no help at all, unfortunately.
Choromatsu is careful as he tries to get his little brother cleaned. As soon as all his dirty clothes are off, he wipes a wet cloth over Tottyâs mouth to wash off any remnants of vomit and helps Totty wash his hands in the sink. He holds a couple pieces of toilet paper over Tottyâs nose so he can blow, which makes him feel slightly less gross.
Once thereâs no more danger of new clothes having leftover puke dripped on them, he darts out to the closet in the other room and comes back with a pair of Tottyâs pajamas. It feels somuch better to be in fresh clothes after Choromatsu gingerly tugs them on.
With all of that done, Choromatsu sets a hand against Tottyâs forehead and gives a contemplative hum. âWell, you donât feel warm⌠you might still be coming down with something, though. I think maybe you should just go right to bed. Weâll get you settled on the couch in the other room so that hopefully the rest of us donât catch it, and Iâll get you some ginger ale or something, okay?â
The idea of all that sounds nice, sure. He feels a little guilty for not being honest, however, so⌠âUm, Choromatsu-nii-san⌠I-Iâm not⌠Iâm not sick. I⌠I think I ate too much today, and⌠that bite I took out there was just kind of⌠th-the last straw, you know?â
Choromatsu frowns. âYou ate too much? You said you were really hungry when you got home. And all I remember seeing you eat was my Big Katsu and some of the chips.â
âI ate a lot more than that,â he confesses, rubbing at his teary eyes. âThere was some stuff I had while I was at work, a-and⌠and I was the one who ate the last of the takoyaki. I was just going through the fridge and the cupboards for a while before you walked in.â
âOh⌠okay, I get that. Why didnât you just tell us you overate today instead of forcing yourself to eat?â
More tears bubble up and start rolling down his cheeks. âB-because⌠because I thought if I did, youâd all just lecture me and tell me, âOh, you shouldnât do that, Totty!â The day was so bad alreadyâŚâ
The more he talks, the more tears fall. âIt was just one thing a-after another! Work was shitty, everything that could go wrong did,and I didnât want you guys harping on me! I-I know I fucked up eating a lot, but doing it just⌠made me feel better for a minute⌠like the day wasnât so crappy, like I could pretend everything was okay because I was eating something good. So I just⌠d-didnât wanna tell you guys⌠I-I know youâd say itâs bad for meâŚâ
Quietly, Choromatsu pulls Totty up off the toilet and into a hug. His hand rubs calmingly between his little brotherâs shoulder blades, shortly after switching to a series of pats. âHey, you learned your lesson. I know you think weâd give you some big speech⌠and maybe youâre not wrong. But Iâm sorry it felt like you had to hide it and suffer on your own. Thatâs not what we want! We just wanna take care of you. If we lecture like that, itâs just because we love you.â
âI-I know,â Totty mumbles into Choromatsuâs shoulder. âAre you⌠are you mad at me? For doing it in the first place and for not telling you?â
âMad? No! No, no, no way. Iâm not mad!â Choromatsu presses a brief kiss to the top of Tottyâs head. âYouâre my baby brother. How could I be mad at you for this? Just⌠you know⌠next time, come talk to us instead of going to the food. Iâd rather listen to you complain for hours than have you eat yourself sick.â
He gives a cautious squeeze, somewhat reassured when Totty squeezes back. They stay like this for a few minutes, with Totty burying his face against Choromatsuâs shoulder and Choromatsu rubbing Tottyâs back.
Finally Choromatsu lets out a sigh. âJust so you know⌠even if we lecture you a little, weâll still try to take care of you if thereâs anything we can do. But weâll⌠also do our best not to lecture as much when you come to us. Do you feel any better?â
âYeah⌠it doesnât hurt that much anymore.â He mirrors the sigh and just sinks into his big brotherâs embrace. âCan I still go lie down, though? In the futon?â
Choromatsu nods and pulls Totty up when he gets to his feet. âYeah, of course. Thatâs probably a good idea even though youâre not really sick.â
âAnd⌠can I still have some ginger ale?â
âYeah, Iâll get that for you after we get you settled.â
Totty is silent for a few seconds while they walk down the hall, then he speaks up again. â⌠Will you maybe stay and cuddle with me for a minute, too? Even though Iâm not sick?â
Choromatsu glances down before chuckling. Does he really think he has to tack on that condition, as if Choromatsu wonât cuddle just because Totty isnât actually sick? âI⌠o-of course, Totty. All you have to do is ask, even if youâre not sick.â
âOkayâŚâ By this time theyâve reached the bedroom, so he stands aside while Choromatsu unrolls the futon. Before too long heâs lying down, and Choromatsu has both arms around him, gently stroking his hair.
He closes his eyes and nuzzles against his brother. âThank you⌠youâre the best nii-chan ever.â
He can feel Choromatsu grinning. âAm I even better than leftover takoyaki?â
Totty pouts at the jab, but snuggles closer regardless. âWay better.â
#Osomatsu san#whump#Totty#Cybermatsu#vomiting#stomachache#caretaking#ughhhh TOTTY BABY WHY YOU GOTTA ALWAYS BE HIDING SHIT FROM UR BIG BROTHERS#silly boo just fess up and they'll fuss over you after a mini lecture#sweet babies <3#Choro is such a good big brother SOBS
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the 1
hi!
so because i havenât been able to listen to anything but folklore ever since it came out hereâs a one shot inspired by one of the songs, the 1.
iâm really proud of how this turned out and iâm thinking of maybe doing more one shots inspired by songs from that album!
hope u like it and happy reading âĄ
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You were doing good.
So good in fact, that when someone asked you how you were, it wasnât a mundane, somewhat conditioned response of âgoodâ - even if you werenât. It was a genuine, wholehearted âIâm so goodâ kind of response youâd hear in some finding the light moment by a protagonist in a movie. You deserved it too, you had been actively trying to find this frame of mind and finally here you were.
You first noticed the change in yourself when you started some new habits in your life. The moment came when you were caught in a drunk-minded deep conversation with one of your best friends.
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âYâknow what I need?â
âWhat?â
âGet on some new shit.â
âYou wanâ drugs right now?â
âNah, nah, nah, not like that. I mean like, in life in general, yâknow?â
âYeah, dude. Same, like... letâs day drink on weekdays too.â
-
You laughed at her reply, but you remember not saying no. That was something else you were trying to do. Saying yes instead of no.
Itâs not that you were necessarily a no person. In fact, you liked to think you were more of a yes person. You were always the friend who was up for anything once upon a time. No matter if it was going to sushi train, spending an afternoon following a Bob Ross tutorial, going axe-throwing, having a Sunday sesh of drinking bottomless margaritas or simply laying in bed and bitching about the people you didnât like from high school and how boring their lives seemed compared to yours. You were always very friend orientated and you had amazing friends who you always had the most fun with and when that part of your life halted, it effected you more then you realised.
It had stopped by your own choice. You happened to fall in love with one of the most known and beloved male singers of this generation. Harry Styles. At first you kept living normally, but it was only a matter of time before you would get recognised more and more due to being his girlfriend. You didnât sign up for being a celebrity, it was never your plan and you didnât consider yourself to be one. But you couldnât deny that you were known in the Harry Styles fandom for sure. Because of this, you started saying no to a lot more things. It was a sacrifice, but one you were willing to make at the time for the boy who you were so sure was the one.
It was impossible to ignore his status when you two were together and even now when you were not. There was a day when it had been two months and six days since you broke up where you were driving home from work and you were thinking of him. On your lunch break, your co worker who was named Henry was drinking from a mug with a âHâ on it. It was the same mug you had bought for Harry when you two were together. And on your way home there was a split second where you thought you saw him at the bus stop. You didnât though. Of course not, it was just your mind playing a sick trick after youâd been thinking of him so much. Someone of Harryâs fame wouldnât be able to catch a public bus, especially at peak hour without causing a ruckus. It was easy to miss the good parts and that moment was a slap in the face of reality at how the two of you struggling to be a ânormalâ couple was a big reason why you broke up.
Two days after that, you spent a week where you swore to hit the ground running each night that week to feel better. The first night was out to dinner, the second was a board game night, the third was visiting your parents, the fourth was an escape room, the fifth was a rooftop bar, and finally came Sunday where you hit the matinee.
That week was exactly what you needed. It was busy as hell, but you wanted it to be. By the end of the week you were exhausted, but in the best possible way. Almost in a way of when you exercise and the release of good endorphins follow. You really felt like the main character in your life again, and when you were reminiscing back on the packed week, it was like a montage in a movie and your favourite songs wouldâve been playing as the soundtrack. But then you had a wave of him. One single moment alone, and of course heâd crept into your mind. A simple memory of when you couldnât decide what movie to watch. You had very different tastes when it came to watching something and Harry in an effort to soothe this over before it became frustrating asked in a dramatised voice,
âDonât you know that the greatest films of all time were never made?â
At the time you had rolled your eyes and laughed at him. But maybe he was right after all. You missed him again in that moment, you never thought you would have to miss him in that way. When you were together and you missed him because he was away for a work commitment, you could call him up. Now you couldnât. The the last phone youâd had with him flew to the front of your mind and sadly it was a bitter memory.
-
âHi, baby.â
âHey, H.â
âYou okay?â
You sighed.
âThatâs a no.â
âMhm.â
âWhatâs wrong?â
âWell Iâm home again.â
âGo out then, (Y/N). You donât need to have fomo.â He tried to lighten the mood by saying it like that, you were an extreme fomo sufferer and it was a personal joke within your life and at first he had found it cute and joined in. But it wasnât simply fomo anymore. You were beginning to become depressed with the downfall of your social life that was once, such a defining aspect of who you are, and one of the reasons you had caught Harryâs attnetion in the first place, he loved your extroverted attitude.
âIf I go, Iâm gonnaâ feel like groups of girls are looking at me and talking about me.â
âI know how that feels.â
âHarry, itâs not the same for me.â
âI know.â
You gave him silence, some sort of this conversation had became pretty repetitive for you two towards the end of your relationship.
âI am sorry youâre feeling like this (Y/N), but Iâm not sorry for having my life.â He was getting frustrated, you could hear it in his voice. You were too, but you understood his frustration now, you didnât then.
âWell, how I was to know that dating you meant this? You never know... never know that dating someone is going to fuck your life up.â
âI fucked your life up?â
âKinda, yeah.â
-
He hung up then. It wasnât pretty due to things only getting rockier. You broke up the day after that call. And fuck, were you devastated. You didnât have your old life because going out meant feeling like people were looking at you for being Harry Stylesâ girlfriend and that would hurt too much knowing you werenât. Another thing that kept you inside for the most part, was the knowledge that it would only be a matter of time before rumours spread on social media that the two of you had split. And you didnât even want to think about how it would make you feel to hear people you didnât know at all whisper about you being his ex. So there you were, without your old life and also without Harry and the new life you had with him.
It fucking sucked.
You waited for him to call, or to show up at your door to display some proclamation of love to get back together. In the first two months you wouldâve said yes of course. But unfortunately it happened five months and twenty-eight days after the break up.
You were having a really good night. Harry wasnât.
You and your sister were at the movies and you had to go to the toilet after ordering the biggest slurpee size and not being able to make it through the movie without needing a pee break. Just after youâd washed your hands your phone rang and you answered without looking at who it was, assuming it would be your sister asking to get some more m&mâs.
-
âYeah?â
âAh..hi. Bad time?â You recognised his voice and swore you felt your heart lurch into your throat. â(Y/N)?â You hadnât answered him and you had answered the call so quick, he was caught off guard at your abrupt answering of the phone and now complete silence.
âNo.. I, I didnât look who was calling. I thought it was (Y/S/N).â
âOh, you out?â
âJust to the movies.â
âThatâs good.â
âYeah.â
âBet you look so pretty, baby.â He was drunk. His compliment did cause that warmth to appear in your heart, but you fought against it.
âWhy are you calling, Harry?â
âMiss you...miss you so much.â Tears welled in your eyes, this was all you had wanted months ago. Just not now, not after youâd work so hard to get your life back on track to how you liked it. âWant you back, (Y/N).â
âStop.â
âNo.â
âItâs too late.â
âWhy?â
âYou had so much time to do this, it isnât fair youâre doing it now. If you wanted me, you really shouldâve showed.â
âIâm-â
-
You hung up on him and then cried.
You never made it back to into the theatre, instead, your sister came to you in the bathroom, making a joke about if you had gotten diarrhoea. She quickly stopped when she saw your makeup ruined and teary eyes. Immediately becoming concerned and when you explained what had happened, she simply told you,
âIf you never bleed, youâre never gonna grow.â And that was all you really needed to hear.
And so bleed you did, figuratively. You thought you had gotten past the crying stage but that call brought on a second wave. Except this time, you were determined to keep up with your found again lifestyle. More often then not you saved the crying for when you were alone. But sometimes, something reminded you of him and you couldnât help but to become a little teary eyed in public.
One day though, a month and eleven days after that call, the tears werenât out of complete sadness. You were at your nieces birthday party and the current activity for the children was making balloon figures with those long, skinny balloons. Your attention was on one kid who was seeming to struggle a little and you could quickly see that her balloon was shaping into something not so appropriate for a kids party. It made you laugh and before you gave it a second thought, you snapped a photo and sent it to Harry, due to it reminding you of a memory with him.
-
âBaby, I donât think giraffes are meant to look like that.â Harry was laughing at you, the two of you had, had some drinks and after finding a random packet of those bendable balloons in your backpack, you decided on seeing who could make the best animals.
âI know! I canât figure out how to do it any differently.â Your tone was frustrated. That was your third attempt and it was turning out exactly how the first two had. In the shape of a penis.
âThat dirty mind of yours.â He continued to tease you so you hit him with your penis shaped balloon and he quickly picked up the other two to hit you back with them. It wasnât long until the swats of balloons became grabby hands and you two had some of the best sex youâd ever had.
-
It was such a fun moment and your eyes did well up slightly, but it was more of a nostalgic feeling. He replied to the photo quickly.
Harry: I want to support you in whatever you do but I canât support you teaching the only balloon shape you know how to do, to kids.
His reply was funny and you laughed and gave a quick wipe under your eyes before a tear could roll down but your sister caught the movement and gave you a questioning look so you told her,
âItâs alright now.â And she knew exactly what you meant.
You didnât message him back. That day. And you had to really fight with yourself not to but for the next two nights he was in all of your dreams so that third morning when you woke up and was still half asleep, you messaged him.
(Y/N): I had this dream you were doing cool shit.
Harry: You did? What was I doing?
(Y/N): A bunch of things, it was like I was watching a movie of you.
Harry: How so?
(Y/N): Idk, having all these adventures on your own.
Harry: Anything in particular that stands out?
(Y/N): You met a woman on the internet and took her home.
Harry: It wasnât you?
(Y/N): No.
Harry: Interesting.
You didnât reply after that. You thought it would be another light hearted text conversation but something felt weird about it. Yes, you were obviously broken up but you swore there was a shift of some kind.
You tried your best to forget about, you really fucking tried but a few more weeks passed and on a Saturday at 1:33am you were drunk calling him.
ââlo?â It was his âI just woke up voiceâ. And your heart fluttered, he always was a âDo Not Disturbâ person when he slept, so this meant your contact was still selected as a favourite.
âHi.â
â(Y/N)? What time is it?â
â1:33am.â
âYou okay?â
âI donâ know.â
âHm? What do you mean?â
âMy life feels out of place...and Iâve been trying real fucking hard to get it back on track.â
âIâm sure if you keep trying-â
âI hate thaâ youâre missing from my life.â You cut him off.
â(Y/N), I think you need to get some sleep.â He could tell you were drunk.
âI know we never painted by the numbers, but like, we were making it count... Right?â
âRight.â
âBut it doesnât mean anything anymore... the greatest loves of all time are over now.â You were so drunk, and speaking a little dramatically but Harry knew you were in a state, so he was being a little patient with you. âDo you miss me, Harry?â
âI do.â
âI miss you, too.â
âBut think of all the things you missed when we were together. I donât want you to stop living your life that you love so much.â
âYeah, guess so.â
âThis is for the best.â
âDo you actually think that?â
âIâm not sure.â
âDo you want to come stay tonight? I miss you a lot in the mornings.â You were getting more tired and Harry could hear it in your voice.
âI canât.â
âWhy?â
âI just canât, (Y/N).â
âFine, itâll just be another day waking up alone.â
âYouâre not alone, youâve got so many people in your life.â
âBut not you, anymore.â
âWell, you still do, just not in the same way.â
âBut, we were something, donât you think so?â
âI do think so.... Are you okay, (Y/N)?â Harry asked a second time, he still cared for you so much.
âI think so, I just, canât stop thinking about what if we had been together in another time... Like, imagine us in the roaring twenties. Weâd be so vibrant and throwing parties together... Wishful, too. Tossing pennies in the pool.â
âWhat would you wish for?â He knew it was wrong to ask this while you were intoxicated but your emotion was flowing onto him even through the phone and he couldnât help himself but to induldge in your scenario.
âHarry, if my wishes came true, it wouldâve been you and me always.â You so unashamedly admitted, and Harry felt guilty then. He was pretty certain youâd wake up in the morning and regret this.
âI think I should go, (Y/N). Let you get some sleep, okay?â
âYeah, night.â You were exhausted.
âGoodnight.â
-
The next day your best friend called and once you had told her of your late drunken call to Harry she immediately asked you,
âNow why the fuck would you do that?â
âIn my defence... well I have none.â
âExactly, and my question still stands, why the fuck would you do that?â
âYou know me, just can never leave things well enough alone.â
After that call and promising your best friend that you wouldnât go drunk dialling ex boyfriends again, you really wanted to stick to it. And so you did.
For seven months, there was no contact. And Harry had been laying pretty low so he wasnât really being talked about and plastered in places so you couldnât not see his face or hear his name or his songs.
Until news broke of him and his new girlfriend.
It was everywhere and you hated it. You hadnât even thought of dating someone new. A couple months ago, you and your friend had set up a tinder profile for you but you hadnât used it at all. You didnât end things with Harry because you didnât love him, because you did. So maybe part of you thought that you would get back together eventually, and maybe part of you thought he felt the same.
Apparently not.
The following weekend, you only had a couple drinks when you went out for a friends birthday. Truth being told, ever since seeing photos of Harry simply holding hands with another girl who wasnât you, you had a pit in your stomach. You didnât stay out for long, either. It was probably just you being a little anxious but you couldnât shake the feeling that people were staring at you, and it had been a while since you felt like that and it was not a welcomed feeling.
Once you were home, you persisted and resisted the temptation to call or message Harry, simply to ask him if one thing had been different, would everything be different today? But you did resist and that was something you could celebrate.
-
Eventually those feelings that came from seeing Harry with his new girlfriend, faded. Partly because youâd done everything in your power to block hearing any news about him, but it was what you needed for your own peace of mind.
But today, you were going to see him, you knew that. And you knew there was a possibility of his new girlfriend also being there. It was a mutual friends engagement party, and maybe you had tried extra hard to look as good as you possibly could due to this knowledge.
Youâd brought your best friend as a plus one and she spotted him before you did.
âDonât turn around, but heâs coming in now.â
âIs she with him?â
âYeah.â You took in a deep breath at your best friends confirmation of what youâd been worrying over. âHeâs just spotted you.â
âFuck... Does he look like heâs gonna come over?â
âMaybe, heâs talking at the moment.â
Harry was only a 180 twist away from seeing him after no contact for so long, but anxiety overtook any feeling of excitement or temptation. âLetâs move, Iâm not ready.â
âWeâll go get a drink.â
The two of you walked off to the bar area and you released a sigh of relief which was followed by a few wet pussy shots to calm your nerves.
As the night continued on, you started to feel more at ease, which was probably from the alcohol but you didnât care what it came from, as long as you felt better. As far as coming into contact with Harry, you hadnât yet. Youâd spotted the back of him a number of times, but he was always involved in a conversation with someone else.
It was when the engaged couple and their families announced speeches, youâd ended up closer to him then you would have liked. You sat down beside your best friend, only to look slightly to your left and see Harry sitting just to the side of you and a tiny bit forward.
You wished you couldâve said you found this fine and you enjoyed the speeches given by the couple and their family members but you kept allowing your eyes to drift over to him. It was so easy to considering he would have to look over his shoulder to catch you looking. He seemed happy with the rosĂŠ flowing with his chosen family.
âAre you okay?â Your best friend whispered to you and you looked back to her with a soft, sad smile.
âYeah... just wouldâve been sweet if it couldâve been me.â
You were so grateful she was there with you and when the final speech was completed with a cheers, the both of you downed your own drinks and then laughed at each other. The laugh of yours that was familiar to someone else in the room and when you felt your vision moving to the left again, you were greeted with Harryâs eyes locking with your own. You werenât even sure how, but your heart stilled and you watched as he turned his head back to the woman stood beside him to tell her something. She gave him a smile and nodded and you quickly looked at her as she glanced to you, you barely mirrored the smile she offered you because then Harry was making his way towards you.
âHello, ladies.â He greeted the two of you. Moving to hug your best friend first because you had subconsciously taken a step back when he became too close.
âHey, Harry.â She greeted him back and you took the brief moment they embraced to glance down and try to quickly regain your composure as best as you could.
It was only a quick timeframe between him hugging your best friend hello to then solely directing his attention to you but at the same time, it seemed like time was in slow motion.
â(Y/N), hi.â He moved to you so easily, and you to him. You were worried about it being awkward but your bodies knew exactly what they were doing when it came to each other. Your arms didnât bump into each other, rather they so elegantly glided across one another until yours were up and around his shoulders and his were clasped so snugly around your waist.
Fuck, it felt good. It had been so long since youâd seen him, let alone felt him. You were so happy it was a genuine hug, being pressed against him and being held so tight felt so right. âHi.â You finally returned his greeting, quietly and he pulled you in closer then.
âIâm just gonna head to the bathroom, guys.â Your best friend spoke up and part of you was glad because you werenât sure you could ever let go of Harry again after being apart for so long. Another part of you wasnât because it did cause the two of you to break apart and look towards her. You both shared a look, an unspoken âare you going to be okay?â before she walked away after an unspoken confirmation.
When you looked back to Harry, you realised your hand was still gently holding onto this arm and when you noticed he had completely dropped his touch from you, you did the same. âSorry.â You apologised and held your hands in front of you, but he smiled so warmly at you.
âDonât be, itâs all good.â He always was so good at making you feel okay.
It was beginning to grow louder where you were with the completion of speeches and the party going back into full swing, so at the same time you both started to suggest finding a different spot.
âShould we-â You both stopped to allow the other to continue but with the double stop you both laughed.
âLetâs go.â Harry continued and so you walked with him in search of a more peaceful spot. After a few steps, you started to grab his hand without even realising why it would be a little problematic to do that right now. â(Y/N)...â He garnered your attention by calling your name and before you could finish filling the gaps between your fingers with his own, he pulled his hand away. His movements werenât quick or aggressive and he didnât speak your name with any kind of warning, it was more of a sad tone.
âSorry.â A second apology was given.
âItâs okay.â He accepted, he wasnât trying to make you feel uncomfortable.
Eventually, you two found an empty side balcony with a little corner seat to occupy and when you sat down, your knees touched but neither of you made any effort to move to stop the accidental physical connection.
âYou look beautiful.â He complimented you so doubtlessly and as your eyes found his again, you swore the stars you saw in them made their way right to your heart to pierce through it. At a different time, you would have slid right beside him and held his face in your hands and kissed him so tenderly. His hands would have effortlessly found their place on your hips and if you were both feeling daring enough, you would have fucked hard and fast right there on that balcony. But he wasnât yours anymore. Those stars werenât for you anymore, as much as you wanted them to be. So you couldnât allow yourself to react how you wanted to.
âDonât do that, Harry.â
âWhat?â
âTell me that and look at me like that. Itâs not fair.â
â(Y/N),â He looked away then with a sigh, but you kept your eyes trained on his side profile. âYou wanted this.â
âOkay, no.â Immediately, you argued against his words. âThis,â He looked back to you then as you waved your hand between you two, âis not what I wanted.â
âEnlighten me, then.â His tone changed, it was slightly angered now.
âReally? Do you really want to dig up that grave another time.â
âI mean, as far I can remember you broke up with me.â
âBut not because I didnât love you or want you or anything like that, though.â You turned more towards him and the contact of your leg against his became more prominent.
âI know... but Iâm with someone else now.â
Fuck, that hurt.
âI know.â Your voice cracked and instantly you snapped your head to the side in an effort to hide your teary eyes but he had already spotted them welling up.
â(Y/N),â He placed his hand on your knee and without looking at him you put your hand over his, at first you told yourself you were going to push his hand away, but instead you let your hand simply sit atop his. âPlease donât cry.â
âIâm trying not to.â And you were. Harry could see that and he waited as you took in a few very shaky breaths. It took everything in him to not gather you in his arms and cradle you against him, but he knew that wouldnât be the right thing to do right now. But with each breath they became more evened out.
After a couple of minutes, you looked back to him while also lifting your hand from his and pushing his hand from your leg. He got the message and removed his grip.
âI swear Iâve actually been really good.â You spoke up and Harry smiled.
âI donât doubt that.â
As you continued on, you looked away from him. Mindlessly glancing at whatever you could as you tried to explain. âNo, really...like, I miss you, yeah, but, I really have been doing good.â
âI believe you.â
âHonestly, I swear I donât sit around crying all the time.â
â(Y/N),â Instantly you looked back at him. âI know, you donât have to explain yourself.â
You laughed and so did he.
âIt wouldâve been fun... wouldnât it?â
âWhat?â
âIf you wouldâve been the one.â
#Harry Styles#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles fanfic#one direction#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles angst#harry styles concepts#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles writing#writing#writings#my writing#my writings#the 1#folklore#by blue
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Paint My Spirit Gold
Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow
Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.
AO3 Link: [here]
Word Count: 2187
Warnings: n/a
@dukeceitweek <3
-
[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]
-Â
A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence.Â
âWow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,â he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.
âMy goodness, Iâm famous,â he drawled. âThe Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.â
Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post heâd been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- heâd made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.
âHow kind of you, Remus,â he said. âAll of you should go scold him for what heâs done to poor Jake here.â
Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.
The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.
âAnd our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why donât we show the Duke some appreciation?â
-
[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]
-Â
âYou know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.â
The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick
âFrench onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.â
Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos.Â
âSo we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. Youâre going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories youâve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.âÂ
And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him.Â
âNow the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough⌠at least, thatâs what every man Iâve ever slept with tells me.â
Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment.Â
He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table. He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop.Â
'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-Iâll-kick-it" o'clock.Â
-
[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]
-
Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didnât need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides⌠he was fine. Really.Â
He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in.Â
âWhat do you mean Iâm not in my kitchen?â Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. âMy goodness, when did that happen?â
He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. âYes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch⌠and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, Iâm not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldnât stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.â
Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soonâs, a few theories about the âattempted murder,â Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the âattempted murderâ but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Dukeâs living room?
âOh, VampSuga,â he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. âI havenât the faintest idea what youâre talking about. Anyway, since I canât reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-â
-
[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:
âVampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit.Â
Starstruck96: who?
IneffableSnek: lmao
FeralBeauYasha: lol
VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! Theyâre totally dating. I will die on this hill.Â
FeralBeauYasha: Isnât the duke w/ PatPat?
IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf
FeralBeauYasha: ohh
VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceitâs stream today? I swear thatâs the Dukeâs livingroom.Â
StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch
IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean
IneffableSnek: im watching the dukeâs old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons heâs in a living room kinda like deceitâsÂ
FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too
VampSuga: DUKECEITâ /end ID]
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"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenientâŚ" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin.Â
"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."
Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh⌠future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is calledâŚâ He squinted at his phone. âAmish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.â
Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned âAmish chicâ to â2008 rave attireâ to âok now you guys are just fucking with meâ (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left.Â
âOk so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that Iâm gonna call âsexy librarian.â I couldnât find this exact sweater online, but-â he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. âMy boyfriend had something that was close enough.â
Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.
âTheyâre going to lose their minds,â a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.
âShoo, Iâm getting naked.â
-
[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus âThe Dukeâ Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: âmy viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!â /end ID]
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DukeceitStan
first and only dukeceit shipper ig
DukeceitStan
wow thereâs so many of you now! Hi!!
DukeceitStan
i want this to be canon so bad omg
DukeceitStan
i mean just look
[image]
howÂ
[image]
cute
[image]
[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.
The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceitâs hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left.Â
The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand.Â
The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]
-Â
âRemus, itâs almost two in the morning. Come to bed.â
âIâm coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.â
âMm. I canât believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.â
âYou should try harder.â
âCome to bed and maybe I will.â
âOk, ok, Iâm coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?â
âSure. They figured it out anyway.â
âSweet. Ok, Jannie, Iâm coming.â
-
[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: âDukeceit is canon.â /end ID]Â
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hi my name is matthew and i have some thoughts about haes
okay disclaimers: iâm a little jumpy around the subject so while i donât feel iâm being unnecessarily harsh/unfair, if ur firm on haes w no yielding, and you donât want to argue about it? either skip this or donât respond. i donât really care. but iâm putting the body under a read more.
[3k words, 10 minute read. sections headers, some text italicized for emphasis/some readibility. no images/videos, a few links.]
second disclaimer: iâm not planning on going heavy on sources. i will happily provide sources to people who want them, and i havenât written the actual post yet but itâs unlike me not to cite anything, but doing an in depth well researched and sourced post on this type of subject is not something iâm up for right now.
like i said, iâm jumpy around this subject. and on the off chance someone decides this post is Bad and i must be banished to the Bad Blogs Bin, iâd rather not put a lot of work into it.
third disclaimer: iâm not particularly interested in reading X study that says actually no people who way 700 pounds are healthy and people who weigh less than 200 are going to die early deaths. i know thatâs a straw man i needed to a) get it out of the way now and b) i just am tired all the time and donât have a ton of itme for it. that said, if you do send one to me, i will probably read it at some point, and i may or may not provide my thoughts.
right then. moving on.
with no more waffling, my thesis is as follows: weight stigma is bad, however obesity is killing people and i really would like people to stop pretending it doesnât.
i. really hate that thatâs a controversial opinion. i mean i hold a decent number of somewhat controversial opinions, most of which i keep to myself because iâm a firm believer that what i think about something should not interfere with how other people live their lives. as a noncontroversial example, i think mormons are in a cult. children, being minors, being indoctrinated is a problem, one i myself am not dedicated to solving because i have other issues but as far as adults involved, thatâs their business.
(*please note that iâm not expanding on my thoughts because this post is about haes but i do have a more complicated opinion iâm just trying to demonstrate something please donât at me about cults i know that theyâre bad and adults in them also need help getting out thatâs not the point of this post & iâm anxious enough so like, please.)
anyway so. obesity. is bad. it is bad for your health. if you are obese, you are not healthy. that said, i am not going to tell you to lose weight. no one should tell you to lose weight except for your doctor and maybe your immediate family, and that should be from a place of âyou are not living your best life and i care about you.â i, an internet stranger, along with pretty much everyone you know, does not get to tell you about how terrible your life is and what a horrible person you are for existing, because you are not a bad person for being overweight. you do not deserve discrimination or mistreatment. even if youâre not actively trying to lose weight. it doesnât matter. you are a human being like any other and i will fight like hell for you.
iâm not planning on going heavy into eating disorders because a) thatâs a triggering topic for me and b) itâs going to muddle the point iâm getting, but since it is a large part of the arguments re. haes, itâs certainly going to come up, so iâd like to list the officially recognized eating disorders.
Anorexia Nervosa (AN)
Bulimia Nervosa (BN)
Binge Eating Disorder (BED)
Other Specified Feeding and Eating Disorder (OSFED)
Pica
Rumination Disorder
Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder (ARFID)
Unspecified Feeding or Eating Disorder (UFED)
Other (aka âwe are considering making this its own category but for matthewâs purposes it fits into AFRID or UFED well enough because the details arenât importantâ)
so yeah. weâll circle back to this.
section one: haes
haes initially stood for heatlh at every size. that doesnât really matter anymore because people say healthy at every size now, however, the distinction is important. because.
okay. when i say being obese makes you inherently unhealthy, i am not saying you are having health problems for being overweight. i am saying you have a chronic illness. i have asthma. that makes me inherently unhealthy. i donât necessarily have an health problems because i am asthmatic, but i have a chronic illness and it certainly would, say, make me more likely to die from covid. that is a fact. saying healthy at every lung functionality would not change that.
but you know, i can still be active and like smell plants and interact in the world like anyone else. i just try to keep my inhaler near by.
so similarly, if you are overweight/obese (iâve been saying only obese because its less letters so iâm sticking with that), you can, like, live ur best life and take care of your health. you can feel good about your body and eat good food and move and again, i really donât want anyone reading this to feel that i think everyone whoâs obese needs to lose that weight because adults can do whatever they want.
what iâm angry about is that a good thing (encouraging people to make good choices no matter what so they can feel good in their bodies) got turned into a bad thing (telling people they donât need to change what theyâre doing because theyâre perfectly healthy).
section two: but what about...?
see my third disclaimer. but as a fast rundown of things i probably wonât talk about in detail later:
the obesity paradox is a specific thing about a specific type of illness in the elderly. itâs also not about obesity, itâs about being slightly overweight. itâs a complicated thing, but itâs not true most of the time
sumo wrestlers have major health problems as soon as they stop exercising like crazy.
did you know there are countries where girls are force fed to become overweight? diet culture goes both ways
if you want to say healthy at every size, you have to mean that every. that means you are not allowed to say shit about underweight people. iâm sorry, is someone you care about wasting away? are they 5â˛10 and weigh 90 pounds and their hair is falling out because they arenât eating? iâm sorry, you said people are healthy at every size. you canât make fun of skinny people. you have to suck it up because you canât have your cake and eat it too.
section three: self care
a hypothetical that is blindingly obvious to where iâm going: if a small child wants to play with a knife, are you caring for them by giving into it? what if they want to drink some vodka? what if they want to run away from home to live with a stranger in a white van?
i really really hope all those answers are âno, youâre neglecting that child, and also possibly actively harming it.â
so my point is pretty obvious: giving yourself something because you want it does not mean you are caring for yourself.
you know what i want to do all the time? sleep and rewatch twilight every day. but that makes me feel worse. so even though itâs terrible and i hate it, i have to take care of myself (because there is only one of me that i ever get) and go outside and talk to people and eat something that isnât popcorn because you need protein to live.
(sorry i tried to keep nutrition out of that but i have to actively seek out sufficient salt and protein due to my campus doing a lot of low sodium food, which is bad when u actually need to eat a good amount of salt to keep ur body working, and also iâm vegetarian. so iâm constantly making myself seek it out.)
that doesnât mean self care is always supposed to be work, but i mean. iâve always not really gotten into it. i think because iâm hella depressed and iâve been depressed long enough i can recognize it as this separate entity when it comes to a lot of the mental stuff. like, why do i feel like everything is meaningless? thatâs just the depression.
but i digress, this isnât about me. [proceeds to talk about me again]
one phrase i like a lot for myself is âbad food makes me feel bad.â now, iâm not a fan of putting moral judgements to food. but this works for me, personally. sure, eating a bunch of ice cream right now is good, but itâs going to suck when my stomach flips the fuck out because of all the sugar. and so it seems quite obvious to me that eating that ice cream is not, in fact, caring for my body.
and i think weâd collectively be a bit better served if we could learn to distinguish between self-care and self-kindness. ask anyone who does caregiving (childcare, nurses, etc): it is hard, often thankless (at least for children theyâre devils who donât realize that their toys will get wrecked if they donât pick them up) work. you care for them not by doing what they want, but what is best for them.
section four: diet culture
as iâve already played my hand up above with underweight vs haes, i think itâs kind of obvious that i have strong feelings about underweight not being healthy also. so i just want to take stock of what is and isnât diet culture, and what i think about it. this is probably the most subjective part of this essay.
things i think are diet culture
people trying ridiculous diets. obviously diet culture in the purest sense. itâs real dumb. you need all the food groups to live. sometimes itâs okay, like cutting out sugar, but iâd say its a net negative
not trying to do lifestyle changes. thatâs the sustainable way to lose weight. so. yeah.
weight cycling. actually still up for debate if this is bad. this paper says no, along with a lot of others, but iâm not sitting down and reading through all of them, and all of the ones that say its bad, to offer my opinion. iâm leaning towards âitâs better than nothing,â but weâll see
a lot of other stuff iâm doing this off the top of my head and trying to avoid issues w eating disorders so.
things i think arenât diet culture
women being pressured to look a certain way. thatâs been going on for a long time. being skinny used to be bad. itâs a fact of the patriarchy.
most things? idk i have this impression that like, anyone exercising or eating healthy is a part of diet culture, when in reality, people just have different lifestyles. (also, again, if youâre going with haes, as in HealthyAES (hyaes?) you canât call it unhealthy or youâre not respecting that damn E)
in conclusion: diet culture has issues, but the correct response to them is not âfuck you, iâm eating fourteen pounds of sugar.â eat fourteen pounds of sugar because you want to. (also it should be fat because if you really want to stick it to the man you should be eating fat, big sugar is responsible for a huge amount of todays dietary problems, both on the under/overweight side)
section five: discrimination
yeah no fuck people who discriminate about fat people. thatâs all iâm just moving along to a transition since i was drifting away from my point about health.
section six: weight stigma
...is not responsible for your health issues. being obese is. accept the consequences of your lifestyle.
well. okay. thatâs a little unfair. accept the consequences of not treating your chronic illness. and i feel iâve probably lost people for calling obesity an illness but thatâs the whole point of my post.
just like carrying externally heavy objects hurts your joints, so does carrying a lot of weight inside. fat does not cushion your organs, it kills them. getting rid of weight stigma will not make these issues go away.
the treatment for obesity is eating the number of calories you need to sustain a healthy weight at your current exercise levels. (*please consult with your doctor this is more complicated when you have to lose a lot of weight.)
section seven: cico. or, why your metabolism is fine
your body does not break the laws of thermodynamics. it cannot magically create more energy out of a given amount of calories.
there are issues with calorie counting, yes. i think itâs usually done in an unsustainable way that isnât teaching people to make decisions, just to do math. it can be hard to get an accurate count.
but you are not a miracle of science. you have not discovered how to create and destroy energy. iâm sorry to be the one to break if to you.
if you donât believe me, if youâre really sure your metabolism is different, go on and get it tested. tell your doctors. because itâs a major problem if itâs not working right.
similarly, iâm sorry, but if someone is the same height as you and a (very, like, +- 50 pounds) different weight, and neither of you have exisitng health conditions, you are not eating the same things/doing the same exercise. you have not broken the laws of physics.
possibly, one of you have untreated celiacs or something of the ilk meaning your body is actually malfunctioning. but if thatâs true, i excluded you already, so shoo. get out of here and play in the sun with the other kids.
if you donât believe this, thereâs not much i can do to convince you. but i encourage you to count your calories for a month. find some tdee calculators. weigh yourself. make sure you count everything, it all goes down. check the math. (you can do any amount of time but a month is what you need for weight to be meaningful imo otherwise youâre just proving weight fluctuates a lot).
section eight: cico. or, why counting calories is not disordered eating
it can sure be a symptom of disordered eating, and it can certainly make disordered eating worse, but it isnât an eating disorder.
also, assuming youâre not trying to verify the laws of thermodynamics, i donât think counting every calorie is necessary. i have approximate values (500/meal, and around 300 in snacks), which i try not to go over or under.
yeah. i actually use calorie counting to make sure iâm eating enough in one sitting. some of my medication screws with my apetite and then i only eat like 300 calories and suddenly its like 11 and i need to go to bed but iâm hungry but eating before bed makes me feel terrible and it sucks.
but hey, according to some people, avoiding that is unhealthy.
okay iâm moving on before i get salty because the next section is touchy
section nine: eating disorders.
the three main eating disorders are listed way up there. theyâre the first three. AN, BN, BED.
oh, yeah, binge eating? thatâs actually disordered eating too. itâs not normal.
iâm not going to elaborate on the point because i absolutely know i canât do it without getting really fucking angry that people call calorie counting disordered eating, like i havenât watched a fifth grader eat one meal a day because sheâs scared sheâs overweight. like i havenât watched a sixth grader cram food into his mouth until heâs sick because heâs worried heâs not bulky enough for sports. like i havenât watched an eleventh grader tell me he hasnât eaten anything since lunch yesterday, but itâs fine, he doesnât want his mac and cheese anyway, since he needs to lose weight.
you think someone keeping track of some numbers is an eating disorder? then either youâre lucky enough to never have to deal with eating disorders on a personal level, and iâm very happy for you, or you have, and you should maybe reevaluate that.
alright iâm cutting myself off now whoop.
section ten: intuitive eating
you know, much like haes, i want to like this. it fits in with my bad-food-makes-me-feel-bad mentality. iâm angry and tired and hungry because i ate like, a late breakfast/early lunch and now i need to eat again because if i donât eat every six to eight hours i have a medical condition that makes me feel like shit (an aside: unless youâve been told by a doctor, you donât need to eat every 2-3 hours. unless youâre a child or have an applicable medical condition, you can probably eat one meal a day and be firne.)
but much like haes, it now has a meaning i canât in good consience endorse. i canât stand for a movement that tells people who acknowledge weight makes their joints hurt that they just need to keep eating until they feel better.
section eleven: conclusion
i have a lot more thoughts but again iâm hungry. i meant to talk more about IE and my problems with it but maybe that will be its own post.
i wonât say iâm happy to talk about this because i canât promise i am (see: eating disorder issues.), but i will most likely respond to constructive discussion if someone sees this and wants to. i can also provide sources. i hate going, âsources available on requestâ but i tried to provide some stuff for some of the heavily disputed/i already had a source for it and didnât have to dig through google scholar to find information thatâs been peer reviewed.
and i do sincerely wish everyone, at any size, that they fracture the disconnect between them and their bodies (oop didnât talk about that either another time then) & that they find peace with who they are, and that they get to live happy & fulfilling lives.
#fatphobia#anti haes#obesity#health#haes#i don't know how to tag this lmao sorry if i have a bad tag#q#mine#txt#7th#February#2021#February 7th 2021#essay#long post
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Since you like mob AUs, hereâs a prompt u thought of: Peter is dating Beck or whoever, who doesnât treat him right. What Peter doesnât know is that his bf is a mob boss. Mob boss tony kidnaps peter out of revenge towards beck or for info or whatever. Soon he realizes peter has no idea whatâs going on, and decides to keep him. Peter isnât too upset about that.
I finagled with the prompt a little bit, Tony deliberately kidnaps Peter because he has no patience for domestic violence and is basically offended that Beck sucks. The rest is true to the prompt!
Warming: mentions of violence, mentions of domestic violence, age difference, this is more preslash than anything.
*
Tony feels bad that poor Peter looks so damn terrified but snatching him off the street seemed less... invasive than his other options. Plus its easier to leave less evidence that way and while he doesnât give a shit what Beck thinks he doesnât want to deal with him deciding to harass the hell out of him about his kidnapped boyfriend either.
He leans into the table and Peter immediately leans back. Tony sighs, âyou know you deserve better than that piece of shit, right?â he asks. The kid has to know, he has to. Tony has looked into him because he had to wonder how the hell Quentin Beck, smart but ultimately an unhinged jackass with a temper, landed someone so... amazing. Peter is smart, his credentials prove it, his social media is all related to various social issues he cares about so heâs compassionate, and heâs stupid attractive. Like Beck deserved someone like that even before considering the whole âbeats his boyfriendâ thing.
Its not that Tony has morals, he doesnât really because they arenât useful to him, but heâs got his limits. Theyâre few and far in between but domestic violence lands on his rather short list so that had made up his mind. The fact that Beck would be missing Peter is mostly an afterthought to Peter being removed from a shitty environment.
âAs opposed to what, you? You literally snatched me off the street!â Peter says, voice shrill but its ballsy nonetheless. More ballsy than half the supposedly tough criminals he roughs up on a regular basis. By now most of them would be begging, but not Peter. But then surviving what he did gives a person a certain kind of strength, Tony knows.
âNo, not really. Iâm mostly here to mess Beckâs business up, and your lack of presence does that but I might as well kill two birds with one stone by telling you that you should get out. I mean I get it if you canât, all things considered, but Iâm well connected myself so if Beck think he can outdo-â
âWhat the fuck are you talking about?â Peter asks, voice still several octaves higher than normal.
Tony frowns for a moment as something occurs to him. âThereâs no way you don't know...â
Peter rolls his eyes looking semi hysterical, âwell clearly I fucking donât because I have no idea what this is and Iâd really like to go home, please,â he says, voice cracking as he starts sniffling towards the end.
Across the room Rhodey gives him a look. âKeep it to yourself Rhodes,â Tony tells him.
âJust saying,â Rhodey murmurs.
Peter turns to face him, frowning. âDid he say something?â
âNot with words. Twenty five years of friendship has led to me being really, really good at reading his body language. As for home do you have anywhere else you could go that isnât back to Beck? Seriously, that guy is a piece of shit. And a mob boss. Thatâs what this whole thing is about. He keeps messing with my business and I donât really take kindly to that,â he says, sparing Peter the details. Mostly because he doesnât want Peter to think heâll become the details.
âYeah, Iâm sure youâre a real charmer in comparison,â Peter mumbles.
He doesnât expect Rhodey to be the one to snort but he does, âyeah heâs a murderer but heâd never hit his significant other,â he says and the unshakable confidence in his voice is touching, really. Peter slumps a little in his seat and the poor thing looks desolate. Heâd try and comfort him but heâs sure he wouldnât be any good at it given that Peter is probably, and rightfully, afraid of him too.
The last thing he expects is for Peter to burst into tears though he supposes theyâve come later than normal. Usually he doesnât do this sort of thing, target family, because he finds it distasteful but on the rare occasion he breaks that general rule they usually cry four seconds into it, not several minutes into it. He sighs, âaside from the kidnapping thing, whatâs wrong?â he asks.
Rhodeyâs eyebrows would have hit his hairline if he had one but instead he just looks at Tony like heâs a god damn moron. Which, in hindsight, his question does sound really stupid. âYou kidnapped me,â Peter says, voice gone back to that shrill tone heâd had before. âYou fucking kidnapped me and youâve been nicer to me for the last twenty minutes than Quent has in the last five years,â he finishes right before crying even harder.
He looks at Rhodey, who squints and lifts his hands into the air in a âwhat the fuckâ motion. Great, so he canât expect any help from him apparently. Some right hand man he is, Pepper is going to replace him soon if he keeps it up. âLook, you donât need to go back. Its not as hard to make people disappear as cops think it is provided you know what youâre doing. Peter Parker doesnât even need to exist and Beck isnât competent enough to find whatever fake name you choose, trust me on that.â
Peter sniffles harshly but calms a little at least. âIâm no- not running away,â he mumbles.
âTaking necessary precautions isnât running away, I know you know Beck better than I do and I know he doesnât back down easy. He will try and hunt you down,â Tony says but not unkindly. He gets it, really, he does. He and his mother lived it.
Peter considers this a moment before he sits up a little straighter, still crying but the tears are silent. âYou said you had connections. Do you have any way I can stay in New York and avoid Quent?â
Not exactly given that thatâs a tall order. âStay here as long as you want, we can work out the details later when youâre in a better position to land on your feet. And when I get the time to consider the logistics of that. I highly doubt Beck will bother you here though, I have a reputation and even heâs not stupid enough to test me.â
*
Peter knows Tony has to be dangerous, it comes with the whole mob thing and Tony isnât shy about referencing violence at all. Peter doesnât think heâd be shyer if he actually had to follow through on his words either, thereâs just something about the easy way he talks about inflicting pain on people that Peter thinks is experienced. He has yet to see any evidence of it though and its been a month, heâs had time but Tony has been nothing but kind to him to an unusual degree if the reactions of everyone else around him is any indication.
Everyone from his business partner, Pepper, to Rhodey seem to find Tonyâs fascination with him odd but Peter doesnât so much mind if he gets to benefit from it. Heâs wanted to leave Quent for a long time but heâd always suspected that he hadnât reached his peak of violence and thatâs partially why he stayed. The other part was not knowing where to go and he knew damn well that Quent wouldnât just let him go.Â
So it was kind of convenient that Tony showed up when he did and heâs held up his end of the bargain. Peter hasnât had to deal with Quent since Tony pulled him off a random street and he doesnât mind that he has to take Natasha with him everywhere he goes. Its inconvenient but heâll take that over having to deal with whatever Quent would try if he managed to find him again. Or gain access to him, heâs sure Quent figured out where he went by now when he hasnât really been shy about it.
And thatâs how Peter knows in his heart of hearts that Tonyâs reputation isnât just to be believed, but to be actively feared. Quent is mean and possessive and Peter never thought he could just walk out of their relationship but thanks to whatever it is that Tony does to people he managed.
âWhat?â Tony asks, probably sensing Peter staring at him.
âWhy are people so afraid of you? Iâve never even heard you raise your voice,â he says. Heâs seen Tony pissed off and heâs got a habit for mumbling in Italian but he doesnât seem much for raising his voice even when actively livid. Peter finds it hard to be afraid of him even if he knows he should be.
Tony laughs a little, âyou havenât heard me yell because Iâve purposefully never yelled around you, not because I donât. And people are afraid of me because Iâm single minded in my goals and have a nasty habit of achieving them no matter the cost. Theyâve grown wise not to get in my way.â
And there it is again, that slightly threatening nature but its hard to reconcile that with the guy who, after kidnapping him, immediately told him he deserved better than the treatment he was getting at home. Its hard to believe someone can sit on extremes that large, that someone would offer a perfect stranger a home and protection for literally no reason in one second and then do some kind of great violence the next. Rhodey said Tony was a murderer and that statement was confident, fact, but Peter just doesnât see how Tony could do it. But then apparently heâs gone through the trouble of making sure Peter didnât have to hear him yell.
âWhy would you do that?â he asks because he knows Tony has some surprisingly kind reason for doing that.
He shrugs, âI figured after being yelled at as much as you have you probably didnât like hearing people yell now. Probably triggers a stress response so we all freak out when you arenât in the room.â
We all. Peter frowns because it isnât just Tony, heâd made that order to everyone and he knows theyâll all listen, even Natasha even though sheâs the most likely to tell Tony no. Partially because of sibling rivalry and also because she seems the least afraid of him next to Rhodey. âYou told everyone not to yell in my presence because you didnât want to stress me out? I can handle yelling, Iâm not glass.â He doesnât know why heâs prickling to this when its actually incredibly kind of Tony, and so unexpected the way all his kindnesses have been.
Tony doesnât look ruffled though, instead he looks almost a little proud. âOh I know you arenât glass, and this isnât a question of whether or not you can handle something. Its more making sure you donât need to, not when youâre clearly still waiting for the shoe to drop. After that you can be fair game if you really want it,â he says, lips twitching up a little.
Peter loses that sharp edge of feeling heâd had and relaxes. âThank you,â he says softly, âyou donât need to do any of that.â
Tony shakes his head though, âbasic care, its not an issue and its always kind of a funny test of self control. You donât understand Italian though, so I do most of my venting that way.â
So Peter has noticed. âI have a hard time reconciling this with someone whoâs supposedly dangerous,â he says, blurting it out accidentally.
Tony doesnât take offense to it, he just looks Peter up and down. âPeople arenât as simple as we like to think and being capable of murder doesnât make me incapable of not being a dick. I wouldnât hurt you, I donât have reason to, but Iâm known as the Merchant of Death for a reason.â
Merchant of Death, heâs heard that before but he canât remember where. Doesnât matter know because he can figure out what that means at least in part. âWhy do you keep doing that, reminding me that youâre like... dangerous or whatever?â
âBecause I donât want you to be surprised,â Tony tells him. âIts a lot easier to make sure that doesnât happen if you know what to expect.â
âWhy does that matter to you though?â It shouldnât, Peter isnât his responsibility and heâs surprisingly caring for someone who has no reason to be. Peter has had friends that went less out of their way to accommodate for him than Tony has with zero connection to him.
âPeople fear me, but that doesnât always mean that they wonât test me. Apparently Beck didnât even tell you how he made his money and thatâs a bad idea, keeping someone in the dark like that. God knows what would have happened to you if I had more bad intentions than screwing with your exâs life.â
Peter frowns again because its hard, figuring out what the hell is going on in Tonyâs head. âSo youâre being honest with me in case what, someone else kidnaps me? Because that seems unlikely.â What are the chances heâd be kidnapped by another mob? He didnât even know he was affiliated with the first one in any way so it seems a bit much to be kidnapped by a third.
âOr worse, yes. And its not as unlikely as you think, none of us are exactly pleasant to piss off and Iâve got an impressive talent for pissing people off. Everyone whoâs around me is a target but youâre the only one who refuses to carry a gun.â Right, Peter had forgot about that. He hadnât anticipated reacting so strongly but given the circumstances he thinks his meltdown wasnât as bad as it could have been and Tony dropped the idea of him carrying around a gun for protection real quick.
âMy uncle Ben got shot and killed in a robbery gone wrong when I was a teenager,â Peter says. âAnd I didnât like guns before that either. Or anything lethal.â Expect Quent, if Tonyâs hinting is to be believed but then heâs always had a thing for bad boys. Women? His taste is normal and results in pretty good relationships in his experience. Men? He seemingly canât pick them any worse than he has previously and Quent is a whole new level of garbage for him.
Tony looks him over for a moment, âyou should learn some self defense though, if for no other reason than it being generally useful. Natasha would probably be happy to teach you.â
Peter wrinkles his nose, âcan I get someone less terrifying?â
He doesnât expect it when Tony cracks up laughing but it looks a lot nicer on him than the air of seriousness that usually taints his presence. âShe might be the least scary weâve got,â he tells Peter and starts laughing harder at whatever face heâs making.
âIf thatâs the least scary youâve got I feel so bad for anyone who tries to fuck with you.â
*
Peter doesnât take to self defense well and Natasha clearly doesnât know what to do with that, but that makes it kind of fun to watch. âNone of this is difficult, what is so confusing to you that you?â she asks Peter, who is on the floor breathing hard.
âNothing, he just doesnât want to hurt you,â Bucky says from the other side of the room where heâs watching. Tony raises an eyebrow but Bucky only shrugs.
Natasha rolls her eyes at Peter, âtrust me, thereâs no way you can do any real damage to me. First of all youâre weak, second of all you have almost no skills, and third, I have a high pain tolerance anyway. Get up and stop worrying about doing damage you canât even do,â Natasha tells him.
Its easy to see Peter isnât suited to this, at least not the way Natasha is teaching it. âJust give him a basic lesson in self defense moves, none lethal ways for him to buy himself enough time to get out of a given situation,â Tony tells her. âHeâll be resistant to learning much else.â Peter has made it clear he has a distaste for hurting people in any manner but especially the kind of brutal manner Natasha is used to and desensitized from.
âYou can get out of a situation faster if you stab them,â Natasha tells Peter specifically and he does that thing that he does sometimes when heâs reminded that heâs in an environment thatâs more violent than he agrees with.
He gives Natasha an unimpressed look with a surprising amount of steely strength in his gaze. âIâm not stabbing people because you think thatâs the only way to get anything done,â he snaps. His response clearly comes as a surprise to Natasha and Bucky but not so much to Tony. Heâd been that immediately brave off the bat with him and he didnât lose his confidence when he found out who he was. Peter has a quiet kind of strength that Tony admires and Natasha doesnât know what to do with given that people donât often test her. Sheâs unnerving at the very least, its why Tony chose her specifically to be his lead enforcer. That, and people are stupid enough to underestimate her because sheâs a woman.
Natasha looks him over for a long moment, âalright, then.â
For the next hour Natasha does a slightly better job teaching Peter how to break holds and other simple self defense moves that he picks up on a little faster than how to properly maim someone. Peter doesnât like it any, that much is obvious, but he does pay attention to Natasha and does his best to pick up what sheâs trying to teach at least until Natasha gets bored enough to dismiss him.
âWhat, donât like that this one didnât immediately think he could take you out?â Tony asks her as she walks over. Across the room Bucky snorts and laughs probably because heâs seen people try and fail about a million times. Hell, at this point heâs failed at it a million times too. He might have trained her but sheâs better at killing people than he is, try as he might. Probably because he actually likes people and seems to feel the fallout of having killed someone in a way Natasha doesnât. Tony isnât sure if sheâs good at compartmentalizing or if she actually doesnât feel anything about it and he doesnât care either, her skills suit him.
Her lips quirk up a bit at the corners and she shakes her head. âNo, actually. Its refreshing to have someone in here who immediately knows I can kick his ass and have something to teach. I approve,â she tells him.
Tony frowns, âwhat?â
âOf Peter, I approve. We all do, but Rhodey seems to think youâll listen to me the best for whatever reason. I think youâd listen to him but what do I know, Iâm only your sister,â she mumbles, shaking her head and walking off.
âNot that you admit that out loud often,â Tony calls after her in a teasing manner.
âLike you admit youâre related to Howard often either, you should understand,â Natasha tells him, grinning at him as she leaves the room.
âGod, sheâs fucking unsettling when she smiles,â Bucky says, coming up beside him.
Tony looks him over and heâs got that stupid lovestruck look on his face like he always does. Tony rolls his eyes, âjust ask her out, god. What the fuck are you waiting for, Judgement Day?â
âYou donât even believe in God,â Bucky points out.
âYeah, exactly. Youâre waiting for a moment thatâs never going to come so make your own moment. And whatâs this about approving of Peter?â
*
Peter doesnât expect the clothes, or the shoes, or anything else Tony must have done research on to get right. Everything is exactly the kind of thing he would have picked up for himself if he had the chance and its sweet, if a little unnerving at the same time.
âThis is cute,â Natasha says, picking up a dress as she walks in without bothering to knock. Heâs learned that sheâs a bit of a pest when she likes people, but it takes her a lot of time to warm up to them.
âI canât imagine you wearing a dress,â he tells her. All heâs seen her in is all black outfits that looked a bit like she was ready to rob someone and after mentioning her style choices to her once he discovered they were purposeful, and also a bit of a joke. Sheâs got a weird sense of humor but Peter can deal with that.
âI wear dresses all the time, you just donât see me in them,â she tells Peter, grinning. âYou should wear this later,â she adds, handing him the dress.
He takes it, frowning. âO...kay? Am I supposed to be going somewhere?â
She nods, âyes, on a date with Tony because heâs never going to ask you and weâre all tired of waiting around.â Peter must look more confused and it makes Natasha roll her eyes. âLook, normally I stay out of anything that isnât a stabbing but the fact that you guys are a good match is clear and I doubt another good match for Tony is going to just show up. Heâs difficult to get along with.â
Peter has never found that to be true. âI donât see how heâs even still single. I mean yeah, maybe the guy runs a mob and heâs like... a little overdramatic and whatever but heâs really generous.â
Natasha laughs, âno, heâs not. Heâs mean, cruel, sometimes even delights in it, and generally speaking an arrogant asshole. Usually you have to know him to get past all that but its like you skipped that and went straight to part where you find out he has personality traits that arenât threatening to kill someone. And he listens to you.â
She says that like its important but Tony listens to everyone. âI donât see why you didnât try and get him and Rhodey together if that was a concern.â Rhodey knows him better than anyone, that much is clear so it seems to Peter that heâd be a better choice.
Judging from the look on Natashaâs face its not as good an idea as he thought it was. âHeâs married to Pepper. We need to work on your observation skills if you didnât notice the ring. Its not exactly like its hard to see,â she says. Now that Peter thinks about it he had noticed a silver ring, but hadnât clued in to the fact that it was on his ring finger. Maybe Natasha has a point about his observation skills.
âWhat makes you think Tony even has an interest?â He knows heâs an unusual case but heâs not a total dunce in the observation department so he knows its because heâs got this thing with domestic violence, has no patience for it. Heâs not so sure his... appreciation goes beyond that.
âYou tell him âno.â Trust me thereâs nothing Tony values more than people who arenât afraid of him. Even if heâs acted like a total Bond villain in an attempt to seem all dangerous or whatever. You should know that Iâm actually the dangerous one, Tonyâs like a grumpy puppy. He seems mean but he actually just wants a treat,â Natasha says, grinning.
Bucky is right, it is unnerving when she smiles. âWhat makes you think Iâm interested?â
âThe fact that you took this long to ask that,â she points out.
Alright, heâll give her that. So he smiles a little, sitting on the edge of his bed, dress still in hand. âHe does kind of act like a Bond villain. You know people are afraid of him because no one points it out,â he says, snickering.
Natasha snorts and starts laughing and just like that its like heâs like heâs broken through some kind of barrier that makes Natasha chatter and a hell of a lot weirder, but not in a bad way. Peter finds her less intimidating when sheâs not staring through him like she can see his thoughts, and he also finds he likes her sense of humor when heâs not just getting bits and pieces of it.
âYou donât think this is too soon, do you?â he asks her as she leaves.
She shrugs, âprobably, but the good news is that Tony has a bad habit of being one hundred percent in or one hundred percent out, he doesnât do middle ground well. So if you let him, heâll be more than devoted to you and you know what that looks like,â she says.
Yeah, he does so he nods. âOkay.â
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itâs so easy (too easy) to love you, ch. 1
Also on Ao3
00000
Daveyâs just gotten out of classâliterally just walked out the doorâwhen his phone starts ringing.
âDavey,â Tony says the moment he answers, not even giving Davey time to say hello, âcan you swing by the apartment real quick?â
Davey sighs. âAre you locked out of the house again?â
Thereâs a guilty silence. Then, âOr maybe I just wanna see you, huh? You donât know.â
âTony.â
âCharlieâs the one that lost the spare,â Tony capitulates immediately, thereâs an indignant âHey!â somewhere in the background, âand I left my keys in my locker âcause I thought Charlie had hisââ
Thereâs a scuffle of noise, then Charlieâs voice breaks in, ââdonât listen to him Davey, I asked him before we even got on the subway if he had his keys and he said he did but he didnât even checkââ
ââwell, I thought you had yours, didnât I?ââ
ââand he was twenty minutes late picking me up from band practice because he was too busy making out with Spot Conlon to come help me carry my stuffââ
ââthat was supposed to be a secret you little shit!â
ââyou started it!â
Davey pulls the phone away from his ear as the other side of the line descends into a mess of indistinct yelling. He thinks about trying to get their attention, but he decides to just start heading towards the apartment, muting his side of the call while he waits them outâtheyâll remember him eventually.
In the meantime, Davey sends a quick text:
Tony and Charlie locked themselves out of the house again
Heâs not expecting a response, but Jack must be in-between projects because he gets one almost immediately.
jc again?
And youâre going to have to get a new spare made
fuck okay iâll take care of it. are you heading over?
Iâm walking there now
ur the light of my life dave
Davey canât help but smile at this, a soft feeling fluttering in his chest. Before he can write back, Jack sends another text:
how did ur midterm go?
I feel good about it! Def did better than I thought it would!
duh youve been living in the library all week ofc ur gonna do great. ill swing by the grocery omw home and pick up some ice cream to celebrate. do we need anything else while im there?
Get a bell pepper and some tomato paste, Iâm going to make spaghetti for dinner. And we need more laundry detergent.
fuck yes im starving! can we do garlic bread too?
Come home on time and weâll see.
u drive a hard bargain. kerian owes me a favor so he can stay late tonight lol
âDavey?â The sound of Charlieâs voice, tinny and muffled, prompts Davey to lift his phone back to his ear; it seems like he mightâve been calling Daveyâs name for a while. âAre you still there?â
âIâm still here,â Davey confirms.
âSo are ya cominâ or what?â Tony cuts in, ever impatient. âIâm roasting out here!â
âWell, I was thinking about leaving you to ruminate on your poor life choices,â Davey responds dryly, âbut I guess I can come let you in, since you asked so nicely.â
âThanks, Davey,â Charlie says.
âIâll be there soon,â Davey confirms.
âHurry, will ya? Much longer and Iâm gonna get heatstroke and die,â Tony declares.
Davey rolls his eyes. âGoodbye, Tony.â
00000
When he arrives at Jackâs building some twenty minutes later, Davey finds Tony and Charlie right where he expects them: crowded together in the little bit of shade the roofâs overhang offers, wearing identical grumpy expressions that brighten immediately when they spot him approaching.
"Finally!" Tony exclaims, shooting to his feet. "What took you so long?"
âStop losing your keys and you wonât have to wait for me,â Davey counters, slotting his key into the deadbolt and hefting open the heavy exterior door. He props it open with his hip and lets Tony and Charlie scurry past him into the AC. âYou couldnât get anyone to buzz you in?â
âOld Man Davis hasnât gotten his hearing aid replaced yet,â Charlie explains as they climb the stairs up to the second floor, âand Mrs. Ikeda isnât home.â
âShe joined a new book club,â Tony adds. âShe wonât be back till late.â
âOh, Iâll have to ask her about it when I see her next,â Davey muses.
He gets the apartment door unlocked and the boys pile inside, tossing their backpacks down with dramatic groans of relief. Â Charlie makes a beeline for his bedroom; Davey expects Tony to do the same but he takes a seat at the kitchen table instead, booting up his laptop with a couple of keystrokes.
âIâve got a paper due in English tomorrow,â Tony explains. âCan you look it over once itâs finished? Maybe later this eveningâ
âOf course,â Davey replies. âWhatâs it on?â
âLord of the Flies.â
Daveyâs nose wrinkles up. âOh, I hated that one. Whatâs the essay prompt?â
âIdentify Goldingâs argument about human nature as proposed in Lord of the Flies,â Tony reads off the top of the assignment outline. âThen make an argument agreeing or disagreeing with his assessment, using evidence from the text.â
Davey rolls his eyes. âGood to see that high school literature classes havenât changed much in the last few years,â he says with a sigh. âHow much have you written so far?â
âOh, I havenât even started it yet,â Tony casually rebuts.
âIs everything going okay?â Davey asks, frowning slightly. âIf things are getting worse we can make an appointmentââ
But Tony waives his concerns aside. âNah, this is regular old procrastination, not ADHD procrastination. Like ya said, Lord of the Flies sucks ass, so I just didnât want to write it.â
âWell, let one of us know if you start having trouble,â Davey says.
"Okay, mom,â Tony agrees, somewhat distracted. Heâs already got a blank document pulled up on his laptop, a battered and thoroughly dog-eared copy of the book laying open beside him.
Davey looks at him for another moment, then he shrugs and continues making his way into the kitchenâhe figures thereâs no need to worry unless Racer starts actually missing assignments. And heâs right: Lord of the Flies does suck ass.
By the time Jack gets home theyâre each fully entrenched in different activities: Daveyâs washed a sink full of dishes and is working on drying the last few pieces of silverware, Tony is still posted up at the kitchen table, carefully hammering out a draft of his paper, and there are the familiar sounds of Charlie working through different musical scales on his oboe in the back bedroom.
âHoney, Iâm home!â Jack calls jokingly as he enters. Thereâs a rustle of plastic and soft thunk of the front door closing behind him, then he comes around the corner into the dining room with an armful of groceries.
âHey, Jack,â Davey greets absently. He starts rifling through the bags almost before Jack can finish putting them down. âDid you get the tomatoâ?â
âI got the tomato paste,â Jack says, kicking off his shoes and leaving them in the entryway with all the others, âand I picked up some more of that fancy coffee you like from the place around the corner, even though itâs expensive as all hell.â
âDonât judge me,â Davey replies, gathering up an armful of vegetables and carrying them further into the kitchen. âYou spend a semester grading 'Intro to Shakespeare' homework and tell me how much caffeine you consume.â
âIâm just saying, the rest of us schmucks drink regular coffee and do just fine,â Jack continues. âYou can feed your crippling caffeine addiction just as well with Folgers and itâll cut down on the grocery bill.â
âWatch it, Kelly,â Davey says, pointing a finger teasingly in Jackâs direction. âSmartasses donât get dinner.â
ââs that so?â Jack asks with a grin. âThen why the hell are we still feeding Tony?â
âI heard that,â Tony grumbles from the kitchen table.
âYeah, you were supposed to,â Jack says, moving over to Tony and slinging an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a side hug. Tony bats at Jackâs hand but makes no real attempt to get away. Then Jack says, âSo, I hear you and your brother lost another set of keys.â
Tony throws Davey a look of the deepest betrayal. âYou told Jack?â
âOf course he did,â Jack says. âSomeoneâs gonna have to get new ones made, and it sure ainât gonna be either half of the dynamic duo.â
âCharlie lost the spare,â Tony says, mercilessly throwing Charlie under the bus while heâs not in the room to defend himself. âAnd I didnât lose my keys, I just left them in my locker.â
âUh huh, save it for the judge,â Jack responds, ruffling Tonyâs hair. âJust know if I end up having to change the deadbolt, itâs coming outta your subway money.â
âJackie, leave Tony alone,â Davey comments mildly over Tonyâs spluttering protests. âHe needs to work on that paper and youâre distracting him.â
âYeah, Jack,â Tony repeats, a little smug. âYouâre distracting me.â
Davey turns to look at him, one eyebrow raised. Tony quickly busies himself with his homework.
Davey makes quick work of washing a green pepper and peeling an onion, then starts dicing both into small, neat pieces. He feels more than hears Jack sidle up behind him: the familiar weight of his gaze, the solid presence at his back. He stands there quietly, leaning against the counter-top and just watching Davey cook; unbothered, Davey leaves him be for the moment and moves to the stove, scraping the chopped vegetables off the cutting board and into a pan to start softening.
After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Davey glances over his shoulder at Jack and says, âAre you just going to stand there or are you going to help me with this? You know thereâs no loitering in my kitchen.â
âWell, Iâm nothinâ if not a law abidinâ citizen,â Jack drawls in answer, the corner of his mouth quirking up. He rolls up his shirt sleeves, exposing the long, muscular line of his forearms, and washes his hands in the kitchen sink. âWhere do you want me?â
Davey licks his lips. âThink you can handle browning the hamburger?â
âIâm sure I can manage,â Jack responds with a smirk.
Davey steps out of the way, letting Jack take his place in front of the sauce pan while he gets a pot of water set up on a different burner, salting it so it boils faster. They settle into their familiar dinner-routine, moving around and past each other with ease as they work on getting everything ready, chattering idly all the while.
âIâve gotta head back out this evening,â Jack says at one point, as he sets the tray of garlic bread in the oven to toast. âJohnsonâs got me working a night shoot and I have to be downtown by 9.â
âHow long is the session?â Davey asks. âHere, will you open this?â
âWeâre scheduled for five hours, but we might get to wrap it up early if everything goes well.â Jackâs hand brushes against the small of Daveyâs back and they trade places again, Davey stepping back up to the stove-top and Jack rifling around in one of the drawers for a can opener.
âAre ya spendinâ the night or are ya headinâ back to campus?â
âDepends on how much help Tony needs with his paper,â Davey replies, shaking his head. He takes the can when Jack hands it back to him and empties it into the saucepan, then gives the whole thing a good stir. âWe might be at it a while.â
Jack huffs out a laugh. âWell, if you do spend the night, go ahead and take the bed. The extra blankets are in the usual place.â
Davey sets down the spoon heâs holding, crossing his arms across his chest. âJack,â he says warningly.
âDavey,â Jack echoes back in the exact same tone of voice. In the background thereâs the faint sound of Tony muttering, âJesus, not this again.â
âJack, Iâm not gonna kick you out of your bed,â Davey says, rehashing the same old argument for what feels like the millionth time. âIâm perfectly fine taking the couch.â
âOr you could do the smart thing and just take the bed,â Jack counters as he always does. âIâm not even gonna be here to use it.â
âYouâll want an actual mattress when you get home, especially if youâre out late.â Davey argues. âI donât even have class tomorrow, itâll be fine.â
âIf you donât take the bed Iâll just carry you in there once I get back,â Jack says, as if that's a perfectly reasonable course of action. âSo you might as well save me the trouble.â
Davey sputters. âThatâs notâ You canât justâ That only happened a couple of times!â he finally gets out.
"Well, actually, it's been more like four or five times," Jack says with a smirk. "But hey, who's counting?"
"That trick won't keep working," Davey grumbles, feeling the back of his neck start to heat up.
âYou sleep like a fucking rock, Dave,â Jack says, rolling his eyes. âWhy wouldnât it keep working?â
âNo, see, thatâs exactly why I should take the couch,â Davey insists. âItâs not like the sound of you coming in will wake me upââ
Jack turns to face him. Davey cuts off, slightly startledâhe hadnât realized they were standing so close to each other.
âJust take the bed, Davey,â Jack all but orders, and those dark eyes with that low voice are a heady combination. âPlease?â
Davey bites at his lower lip, suddenly flustered. âFine,â he reluctantly concedes, hoping Jack will attribute his flushed face to the heat of the kitchen. âJust this once.â
"Thank you," Jack says with a dramatic heave of his chest, looking much too pleased with himself. "Now that wasn't so hard, was it?"
"You're letting the garlic bread burn," Davey answers tartly.
"Oh shitâ!"
00000
Later that evening, after theyâve all finished eating and have cleaned up, Davey, Tony, and Charlie are still gathered around the table, working on various assignments.
Davey is finishing the readings for his Monday lecture in between helping Tony finalize the exact wording of his essay. Charlie sits opposite him, working through his geometry homework and every so often thereâs a huff of breath and the rubbery scratch of an eraserâDavey makes a mental note to swipe some more pencils and notebook paper from the grad lounge when heâs there next.
Davey notices the time and frowns. âJack,â he calls out, âitâs already 7:30. If you donât leave soon youâre gonna be late for work.â
Thereâs a clamor of noise from down the hall, then Jack appears, freshly showered and fumbling to put on his socks and button up a clean shirt at the same time.
âFuck, Johnson is gonna kill me,â Jack grumbles. He pats down his pockets, then groans. âChrist, has anyone seen myââ
âYour wallet and keys are on the counter by the microwave,â Davey says, pointing. âAnd take a jacket, itâs supposed to rain later.â
âGreat, Iâm sure the models will love that,â Jack says with a groan. âHopefully weâll be able to get through everything without getting rained out.â
He meanders his way over to the table, peering at Charlieâs homework from over his shoulder. âIf Tony is still busy and ya get stuck, text me,â Jack tells him. âI probably won't be able to answer right away, but if ya send me a picture of the problem I can probably talk ya through it between shots.â
Charlie hums his acknowledgment, still scribbling furiously. Jack turns to Tony.
âListen to whatever Davey tells you about your paper,â he advises. âThe only reason I got through undergraduate writing was âcause Davey proofread all my shit before I turned it in.â
âI thought I was sâpposed to always listen to Davey,â Tony says distractedly, tongue poking out between his teeth as he types.
Jack pauses, considering. âYeah, just do that.â
âJackââ
âOh, and Dave cooked, so you shitheads better do the dishes, get me?â
âJack, youâre gonna be late,â Davey cuts in firmly, holding out Jackâs jacket for him.
âAlright, Iâm going,â Jack says, shrugging it on, and he finally starts making moves towards the door.
He gives Charlie one last pat on the shoulder and cuffs Tony lightly across the back of the head in a slightly rougher, but no less affectionate goodbye, which is per usual. Then he turns to Davey, tips his chin up, and kisses him right on the mouth, short and sweet.
âLock the door behind me and donât forget toââ Jack stops mid-sentence, then turns bright red.
âUm,â says Charlie.
âHoly shit,â says Tony.
Jackâs mouth opens and closes soundlessly. Finally, he stammers out, âI u-uhâ I-I d-didnât meanââ
Davey doesnât respond. He couldnât, even if he wanted toâheâs frozen in place, his mind a sudden wash of static. For a moment, they just stare at each other. Then Jack blurts, âgottagoseeyoulaterbye,â and bolts out the front door.
Daveyâs not sure how long he stands there, staring blankly into space, utterly dumbfounded.
âDavey?â Charlie asks hesitantly. âAre you okay?â
Thereâs a strangled, choking noise. A split second later, Davey realizes itâs coming from him.
"...What just happened?"
#newsies#javid#jack kelly#davey jacobs#*final cut#*the writing desk#*editor's note#the one where it's domestic#oof this was a long time coming#this au might become its own series#the javid coparenting vibes are REAL and i NEED them#btw there will be a couple more chapters of this so stay tuned
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fanfic writer tag game <3
helloooo <3 thank u for tagging me @hannie-dul-set this is so cute lol
ummmm! i think i will tag. @leejuyeeon and @seokmingiggles !! and as always anyone else who wants to <33
peum ~
1. what fandoms have you written for (but do not currently)?
omg lets see if i can do this in order. i think the first fandom i ever wrote fanfic for was creepypasta LMAOO and then... fairy tail? then 5 seconds of summer, then maybe it 2017?? voltron legendary defender, detroit become human, monster prom and mystic messenger kind of overlapped, the arcana !!! then my hero academia, haikyuu, a Little bit of demon slayer... i think thats it lol
2. what fandoms are you currently writing for?
seventeen is all for rn, but iâm thinking of also writing for mha again and adding jjk!!
3. how long have you been writing?
oh wow for like... probably around 6 years? maybe 6 and a half
4. on which platforms do you post your stories?
rn just tumblr, i used to post more actively on ao3 but i havent since i started writing for kpop
5. what is your favourite genre to write?
ahhh like !!! comfort fics!!! i think theres something really sweet in those unspoken feelings during moments you think youâll never forget... the idea of being with someone and youâre just so sure theyâre your favorite person, and then warmth that comes with that realization... wahh
6. are you a pantser or a planner?
oh it depends i think. for longer fics i like to plan them out, but i really wing it with like timestamps or shorter ones
7. one shot or multi-chapter?
ONE SHOTS. my god i fucking suck at multi-chapter shit LMAOO ive only done 1 series like that and it was so rough for me lol
8. what is the perfect chapter length in your opinion?
hm how do i explain this... anything that makes sense? however long it takes for it to feel like the chapter/fic is summed up or completed. i used to worry about word counts a lot but now i rarely pay attention to them, both in reading and writing
9. what is your longest published story? is it complete?
if weâre talking about multi-chaptered, then the color of you wins at 17k !! in terms of one shots, itâs for now; forever at 9k!
10. which story did you enjoy working on the most?
oh boy. i think... anything from the last like. 8 months? my svt stuff for sure!! i went a while without writing in between like january-late november 2020, and i was worried that my writing would suffer a lot... it took a sec for me to get back into the groove of things but iâm feeling happier than ever with the stuff i write now. i feel like ive matured about the way i approach my own writing and ideas, and how i do everything, and my fics make me really proud. ive started writing within different aus that i hadnt touched before, or talking about different feelings or ideas, etc... i really feel like ive grown with this most recent burst lol, and i love working on them! i get so hyped up when im in the middle of writing or even planning, im just so excited to share all of it hehe
11. favorite request you've have written and why (if any?)
ah its been so long since ive worked with requests that i cant remember anything LOL
12. are there reoccurring themes in your stories?
yes. it is comfort and content. it is the feeling of love. it is holding hands on a walk in the middle of spring and smelling flowers. it is the sound of leaves when a gust of wind blows past. it is looking into ur lovers eyes and feeling nothing but pure fondness
13. current number of wips?
fuck like somewhere around 20 probably
14. three things you have noticed about your own writing?
i really like repetition (specifically in sentences if that makes sense??), LOTS of unspoken things (even if i picture a fic with an established relationship, i dont say it within the fic; and especially concerning romantic feelings, i love when things go unsaid and are FELT full force), i think a lot of detailed rambling... i really like to try and describe emotions and stuff in the most abstract and obscure ways lol i feel like it makes things a little more palpable and honest
15. a quote you like from a published story
im gonna do a few. Lol. firstly this long one from pretend people can unlearn:
âAre youâŚâ Jeonghan starts, and when you look at him, his eyes are still on the city in front of you. âAre you ever afraid that weâll fall out of love?â
It never occurred to you that this was love. Itâs not like the love youâve experienced in the past, not even close. But maybe⌠maybe thatâs why you never leave, why you hold yourself back from certain arguments like it might fix everything. Maybe love is the reason why Jeonghan still seems to believe in you. Why he promises heâll be the best thing for you despite always breaking that promise.
(Is it love, a voice in your head questions, or is it longing?)
It takes you a while to respond. âI donât know,â you end up saying, because you really donât. Jeonghan turns his head and looks at you, and you half expect him to start an argument in the middle of night, out on the street like this. It wouldnât be the first time. âWould that⌠be okay?â
âI donât know,â Jeonghan answers, just like you. His voice is soft. You want to reach for his hand just to hold it. âYouâre stillâŚâ
He pauses, like heâs trying to find the right word. You let him take his time, for once, instead of accusing him of the worst. âIâm still?â
âEverything,â he tells you. He looks so sad and you reach out for him because itâs the only thing you can offer. You think the worst thing about your relationship with Jeonghan is that you will always believe him when he gets like this, just like youâll believe him when he takes it back in the heat of a fight.
next is from like there isnât something missing <3
But youâre crying into his chest because itâs not you, and itâs not him. Seungcheol wonders if it was always meant to be like this, if the two of you were always meant to part or if something⌠if something just went wrong, somewhere. A bump that did a bit more damage than either of you thought.
He tries not to think about it now. Tears fill his own eyes as he presses a kiss to your hair because he loved you. He truly did.
âI was so lucky to love you,â he murmurs, voice a cracked whisper. âIâm so happy I got the chance.â
When Seungcheol wakes up the next morning in an empty bed, heâs not surprised. But the Post-It note thatâs dressed in your handwritingâŚ
Well. Itâs over.
and this last one from only for you, i will dance !!
âThis will always be our own time,â he says. âWeâll meet here.â
You know. He says it every time. It never fails to make your heart soar.
âOur thirteenth month,â you say, just like every time. Chan smiles.
He kisses you so strong you feel yourself falling.
16. a quote from an unpublished story
ahh ok ill do a few here too!!! one is something ive begun writing, the other is one that iâve just been working on planning out <3
Smoke blows past somebody elseâs lips and partially obstructs Wonwooâs view of you.
He hasnât been to a party like this in a long time. Itâs elegant, more of a gala than anything. He canât remember who threw it or for what reason. It doesnât really matter, he supposes, watching you make conversation with the partygoers. They all have old money to throw around, the symbolism stitched into their suit jackets and red-rimmed heels; remnants of it left on tables and in the contents of expensive cigars.
You play them like you are one of them, tell them the right things with a silver tongue. Wonwoo always watches, plays the part of an observer. Itâs impressive, the way you float around the room like itâs nothing.
Wonwoo observes; Wonwoo knows things.
and the second one...
"you don't know me," you respond. your voice carries no bite, just a fact, and joshua knows this
"i want to," he says after a second. "if you'll let me."
and he's asking permission to be your friend, to be close to you, something so tender and strangely polite
it makes you feel almost sad
"don't expect too much," you say, a little teasing. joshua only smiles
17. space for you to say something to your readers
wahhh thank you all so much!!! when i first got into writing for kpop it was a lot different mostly because i think... i was writing stuff for different anime before, and i had built up a big following because of that and my works always did like, really exceptional in terms of notes and feedback and such, and getting into kpop... has been rough on that end đ but i appreciate your support thus far, even if itâs small... iâm still working towards a standard that i have for myself!!! so please be patient with me, thank you for the support !!
also please find it in yourself to leave lil comments or any sort of feedback... please..... PLEASE... any creator ever understands this struggle please always try to do this!!! for me and for any other creator you follow and enjoy content from <333
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Viper VIII: Inter Vivos
*author slaps bumper sticker across ass that reads I BREAK FOR QUARANTINE*Â
Summary: You have a thought that only Steve Urkel and black-out drunks can have: did I do that?
Warnings: swears, the law. Murder/death. Stupid internet comments.
Show (3719) Comments on âThere is Nothing New Under the Sun, But You Are New in Your Conglomeration.â
skellingtonbabey: thanks for putting all of the *gestures vaguely* into historical context. no oneâs ever bothered to explain this shit to me, especially in such simple and thorough language. itâs like every other resource i try to learn from is stylistically designed to make me more confused.
readyplayer69: Just because itâs from the 60s and is racist doesnât mean that it doesnât have intrinsic value based on the goal towards which it was working. Youâre a fucking lunatic. I have a degree in political science, so I know what the fuck Iâm about. Though some of the protests may have excluded the minorities youâre talking about, it doesnât mean that they werenât ultimately working towards good fucking policies for everyone involved. Itâs not like they were doing anything important then anyway; white people had to be the mouthpiece forâŚRead More
volcanolesbian: bro have u seen the incels freaking out over this???? it got linked in their cursed forum and they SO BADLY wanted u 2 hate women now. like you can regress from being a feminist once youâve woken up. theyâre giving u shit bc you called out the racist terrorists who were active in their community lmao. i can post screenshots if u want. But bruv itâs like they havenât read anything youâve written before lol
mozARTsexandviolins: I get when you say that ingenuity spawns ideals for the greater good, but donât you think tradition has its place? How do we know if the new can spawn the greater good? How do we judge ourselves? Who watches the watchers?
simpleplan2eatthedirt: cool cool nice nice. Â protesting is awesome, but be sure to get out there to fucking VOTE, people!!! Hereâs a link to register to vote.
EaterJohn: Hello. It is nice to hear from you again, Epiales. Always a treat. Very insightful commentary on modern and past protests. I didnât know about all of the revolutions in Europe 1848. Iâve send this to my co, and itâs already sparked a good conversation about who we are as a protesting people as we stand in history. Again, sorry to bother you, but I was wondering when the next article in your âAeneid Autopsies: Current Crimes Reflected in Ancient Timesâ series was going to be released? Itâs myâŚRead More
horneyvulcanbasterd: @mozARTsexandviolins Is that a Star Trek reference? Bc if so the answerâs Starfleet Command lol
MrsKatsukiBakagou: epiales. you have watered my crops and harvested my fields. thank you for the food.
mightiestavengereatmyass: eat shit and die, commie scum. your just a hired propagandaist for the fucking alt-left, arenât you? You have no right to be running your collum in a real newspaper or on this fucking website. sending u anthrax in the mail would be too cool a death for you. I hope your so-called terrorist groupsfind out where you live and fucking murder you in the middle of the night. fukcs like you are the reason the country is going to shit the police have a total constitutional right int aht jurisdiction to enter. They had a no knockâŚRead More
fuckyouitâsjanuary: @readyplayer69 [image attached] [image description: blonde woman with caption reading, âI can tolerate racism, but I draw the line at looting the local target]
saltnpepa!!diner707: Hi. Iâm trying to cite this piece in an essay, but your publisher isnât listed on your website. Would you suggest using the NYT as the source in my bib? If it helps, this is due new week; idk if this will run in the NYT by then. Thanks
âIâm sending someone on a grocery run this morning,â said Tom, thumbs tapping away on his phone, âDo you need anything? Want anything?â
You glanced up from your laptop, closing it as much as you could without the light dimming. âI think Iâm good, unless you used the last of the shredded cheese at some point.â
âShreddedâŚcheese,â he said under his breath, typing, âYou mentioned capri-suns the other day.â
âYeah, but I can tolerate the nasty, new flavour. No rush. Hereâs a wild idea,â you said, and you waited until he looked up from his phone, a couple of ungelled curls falling over his forehead. âWhat ifânow, donât dismiss me as crazy; hear me outâwhat if we went to the store ourselves?â
âAgain, no.â Tom grasping his coffee by the round of the mug, despite there being a perfectly functional handle. âStop pressing me for it.â
âIâm not asking to go to a damn Broadway play. Iâm asking to go to the closest 7-11,â you said, jiggling your leg and then making a conscious decision to stop fidgeting, instead scooting your chair closer under the table so that the arms slid underneath.
Tom hummed, his eyes not leaving his phone screen, but when you didnât continue, he raised an eyebrow as he scowled at you. âBroadway is shut down because of the bomb threat.â
âFuck off; you know what I meant.â
âViper,â said Tom, and he locked his phone to set it on his napkin. âDo you want to get assassinated?â
âThe term assassination implies Iâm getting murdered for political reasons instead of the copious other crimes youâve had me commit. So, I invite it.â Put your hands on the table where he can see them; it makes you seem more trustworthy. âDoes 7-11 have an open carry policy?â
âIf itâs any consolation, the renovated office should be waiting for you when you return.â
âItâs not.â You lifted your mug to your lips. âWorking from here only makes me feel like a damn bureaucrat. Like I have no stake in the matter. I donât want to become detached from everything; I might make a callous decision and send people where they canât come back.â
âKeep watching yourself. If you stay on guard,â said Tom, running his middle finger around the rim of his mug, âthen you wonât stray from me.â
âIâm useless here.â
âThen maybe you should become accustomed to the idea of being useless.â
Swallowing, you stared down into your tea. âThereâs only so much I can get done through answering emails. Not to mention I hate answering emails. Thatâs how you get more emails.â
âHarrison has been telling me that your schematics have been more thorough since youâve been holed up in here.â Tom tipped his mug all the way back to get the last of his coffee. âYouâre still being just as productive, if not more methodical.â
âDid you mean obsessive? I haveâIâve had too much time to think. Iâd rather not be alone with my thoughts, if I can help it.â
***
You could only read so much before losing your mind. You could only deal with so many of the same exact problems over and over again for lower level soldiers. You could only chart so many stars. You could only read so much fanfiction (if your identity thief were tracking your phone, heâd probably be baffled as to why you kept reading fic for fandoms you werenât even a part of due to the desire for new ideas).
You could only give Glory Pham so many excuses as to why youâre not with her in person at the Museum of Natural History.
Sucking in through your teeth, you hovered your fingers above the keyboard.
Dear Ms. Pham,
Glad to hear John Mulaneyâs signed on. Next step would be to ensure de Blasio doesnât directly interact with him, given their history. Perhaps I should proof his set beforehand?
Unfortunately, I regret to inform you that I cannot attend the briefing in person yet again. I am currently indisposed, seeing as I am currently in hiding at my hot bossâs house, due to how dead I might be should I leave it (thus the basis of its appeal). Not to mention that if you criticise my blazer choices again, I shall peel the skin off your perfectly made-up face. Get fucked; getting your eyeliner tattooed on was a hell of a decision.
You shook your head, backspaced the last few lines, and stretched towards the wicker end table to grab your glass of pink lemonade, and you stole a glance at Tomâs work as you did so. A couple of files spread across his white wicker lounger (two blue files [socials of the family], two green [recent bids], a yellow [Manhattan locations], and a brown [requests from politicians, upper East side]). The pink sticky-notes had your and his written exchanges and edits on certain papers, and his laptop was open, the screen dimmed, while he copied something into a notebook with his cell phone held between his shoulder and his ear, just listening to the computerised voice.
He had joined you on the back porch to work remotely, claiming he couldnât go into the city today due to the absence of news on Zendayaâif any information arose, heâd said he wanted your diagnosis immediately.
You wiped your forehead with your sleeve as a sweat drop slinked behind Tomâs ear. Even Tessa wouldnât run in the heat; sheâd curled up by the porch railing, her tail slapping against her water bowl. In an experiment to see if she wanted to spend some time outside, youâd slid the glass door open for Trout, to which she turned around to retreat to the bedroom.
Not all of the clothes youâd ordered had arrived yet, so you were stuck wearing autumnal clothes with long sleeves. To exacerbate matters, you were constantly movingâjiggling your leg, tapping your fingersâyou couldnât sit still for very long anymore; you had taken to pacing the porch when you couldnât concentrate on the stars.
(Once, Tom had come out at night to check on you, wiping the sleep out of his eyes and sitting in silence with you. Heâd made you go to bed after a while, claiming youâd run yourself into the ground if you kept this restlessness up.)
When your phone beeped, the both of you jolted at the sound. Tom hung up on the robotic voice as you scrambled to your phone, and he bent your way. âIs it Zendaya?â
Biting the inside of your cheek, you shook your head. âNo. Looks like itâs a jailbreak.â
Tom sighed, his shoulders heaving as he eased back in his seat. âWhere from?â
âI donât even care,â you said, letting your phone fall to your lap. You slumped back in your chair, shielding your eyes from the sun with your arm. But you straightened yourself again and checked. âFrom Central. They donât even know whoâs all escaped yet.â
âItâd be too much of a gift if New York City would fucking relax for five minutes.â
âIt seems like itâs in more uproar than usual lately,â you said, sipping through the reusable straw of your pink lemonade. âDo you suppose itâs our fault?â
Tom took a moment to pluck his damp t-shirt away from his chest. âI donât think weâre instigating. If anything, weâre simply reacting to chaos.â He stood up and stretched, raising his arms above his headâhis biceps strained at the sleeves, and the hem rose above his v-lines. âUnless youâre doing something I donât know about.â
Ah, casual suspicion. âYouâve caught me,â you said as he approached Tessa and crouched next to her, âIâve been running a koi smuggling gig on the side.â
âWhy koi?â He held out his hand for Tessa to sniff, and she readily accepted his hand for pats. âAre they hard to get?â
âI donât know,â you said, shrugging, âbut Iâve been wondering if theyâd be able to survive in your grist mill pond. You look through that water straight to the bottom, nothing living in your way. Just rocks and old equipment.â
Tom sat against the porch railing with a jittery Tessa partially in his lap. âShould we get some?â
âOh, fuck off, Tom,â you said, grinning, a sweat drop falling onto your mousepad as you shook your head, âYou canât entertain every little pipedream I have.â
âWatch me. What do you want for Christmas?â
You ducked your head, biting your lip. âPromise me something.â
âProvided itâs not my head on a stake, I will,â he said, scratching Tessa behind her ears and cringing a bit when she stretched to lick his face.
âThen weâre going in person to the pre-opening fundraising gala for the Gawain Diamond.â
Tom narrowed his eyes. âViper.â
âBitch, I got John Mulaney to sign on to do the opening monologue, and heâs probably gonna roast de Blasio again. Iâm not missing that.â
Your phone blared an alert again, and both of you held your breath as you unlocked it.
âGot a list of prisoners who escaped. Small group. Delores, Larson, Duncan, Mays, Selvin,â you said, âThereâs more, but I donât know them. Tell us something important, by God. Anyway, weâre going. I didnât say I was going alone, did I? Youâll be there. Iâll be safe, and youâll be safe.â
His jaw shifting to the side, Tom stilled his hand on Tessaâs back, and then he lifted it to flick sweat off his neck. âHow many of us maximum can you get in?â
âItâs a fundraiser for idiotic rich people; if there are too many people without a name, theyâll be noticed.â
âIt canât be just us.â
âWhy? Afraid you canât protect me on your own?â
âNow, donât start that.â Tom herded Tessa off his lap and onto her outside bed. âIâm not falling for it.â
âYes, yes, Iâm fully aware youâre capable of ripping me in half,â you said, draining your pink lemonade, the airy suction coming through your straw (almost loud enough that you couldnât hear Tomâs sputtering over itâalmostâand his phone beeping). âWant me to get that?â
âBring it here,â he said, and you snatched it while he sat on the railing, dangling his legs off the side.
âItâs,â you said, eyebrows shooting to your hairline as you read the little notification, âItâs a tweet from Zendaya.â You tossed it to him to unlock and leant on the railing next to him, arm grazing his thigh with a heightened awareness of how close you were to his sweaty, sweaty abdomen. No! No time to thirst. Friend time.
Tom unlocked his phone and held it at your eye level, turning it horizontally as he pulled up the tweet.
ZENDAYA (@ZendayaMedias): Felt cute. Might delete later.
[video]
Tom pulled up the clip, waiting for it to load. âWhy didnât she post it to instagram, then?â
âThe finer details of social media are an enigma. Do I look like I know,â you said, and his thumb hovered over the play button.
He cranked the volume up before pressing play, having to try twice due to how slippery his fingers were. âI wonder if Haz has seen this yet.â
A vertical shot of a murky, grey sky from the bow of a boat and dark ocean as far as the camera can see. It pans across the starboard side, and this boat is the only one in sight.
Only the sound of waves striking the boat.
The camera tilts down. Zendayaâs writhing on the deck, furiously straining against rope bonds that line up the entirety of her arms and up her calves; sheâs yelling furiously at the person behind the camera through duct tape.
Scuffed, black boots roll Z to the starboard gunwale. Sheâs still fighting, still shouting.
The camera trucks to the right; before, the pair of cinderblocks attached to her feet were concealed. It returns to her face. A glove grabs part of her hair to show the weights tied into it. She bucks up to headbutt the camera; he avoids it.
Tom clenched his free hand on his thigh. âWeâre running another scan for that black-stubble bell jackass from her instagram; did we have any fucking leads at all? Whatâs his fucking motivation? So he slept with her, allegedly; did she say no to a second time? Doesnât fucking meritââ
The boot kicks the cinderblocks off the boat, and the camera tilts down to follow the trail of bubbles.
Itâs quiet.
But then the camera pans to portside, where the guy in the picture with Zendaya is similarly tied up, but heâs openly weeping and shaking his head. Heâs got something drawn on his forehead in black marker. The cameraman steps closer to focus on it: itâs a circle with an upward curve resting on top of it.
Heâs still wearing the bell necklace.
Then the cameraman backs away and raises a gloved hand, in which a gun is aimed at the otherâs forehead.
The bullet goes through the circle, and the bell rattles as heâs kicked off. Fewer bubbles.
Then the camera tilts up to show off the boatâs surroundings: a black and barren ocean, as far as the eye can see.
When the video started to loop, Tom switched his screen off, his phone hanging loosely in his grip. You released of his thigh once you noticed youâd grabbed onto him, and the evidence of your touch faded as the fabric relaxed.
His eyes glossed over at the blank screen, and his mouth opened before closing again, running his tongue over his lower lip. Tom brought a fist to his mouth and furrowed his brow, his hand hardly concealing the growing tremble of his jaw.
You took a step away from him, rubbing your arms as you ducked your head. âIâm going back inside,â you said, hoping Trout felt like being clutched to your chest, âIâm cold.â
***
The next morning, your mouth felt heavy and dry. You sneaked out as the sun was rising to go hide in the woods surrounding Tomâs house, but you talked yourself out of it. He would make too much of a fuss if he couldnât find youâbut you could delay the inevitable conversation even further. Both of you had separated and kept to yourselves the rest of the evening. Kept quiet.
So you rounded the outside of the house. Youâre not camping out in a fucking copse. When you reached the pond, you scanned it for a dry place to hide, but nothing really held any appeal, save for the rounded platform where the mill wheel used to spin, its spoke notches overflowing with moss. You managed to get to it after scrambling alongside the stones for a few minutes, and though it didnât look like you could get down the same way, you settled against the wall, scraping some moss out of the notches so that your feet could rest more comfortably in them.
(Dr. Prine called ten minutes after you sent her the email. âDid you send me the correct article?â
âYeah,â you said, rubbing your face wash onto your cheeks, âConsidering itâs the only one I have ready, and I canât bring myself to write anything. I tried. I just fucking canât.â
âI donât think you want this published at this point in your life.â
âI donât fucking care. Whoeverâs using my pen name probably knows who the fuck I am in general. Just publish it.â
âHoney,â said Dr. Prine, her voice softening (and fumbling, like she was holding the phone to her ear with her shoulder), âYou should probably rethink this. Itâs going to connect Epiales you back to Viper you. Get some sleep; eat breakfast. Call me back then.â
âItâs an appropriate article for the political climate.â
âNot for your personal life.â
âI donât fucking care,â you said between splashing water on your face, âI donât. Itâs a good fucking article, and hopefully, it can affect people for the upcoming election. Fuck self-preservation. Send it to the Times already.â
âDid I dial the wrong number?â
âHilarious, Dr. Prine. I know itâs not the smartest thing for me to do, but I canâtâabsolutely canâtâwrite anything. I donât know for how long, but for now, at least.â You blotted your face dry. âIâve got to meet standard deadlines if Iâm keeping my column. Itâs really only dangerous if Tom reads it and makes the connection, and his brain is offline right now.â
And so Aeneid Autopsies: Current Crimes Reflected in Ancient Times, chapter twelve, âThe Political Tradition as Mob Rule,â would be published on Saturday. Itâs a little too in the know about the mafia, but hey, you had written it on a whim a month ago, and you were known for your extensive research, anyway. It most likely shouldnât be too different from your other exposĂŠs, though they werenât on topics that were deliberately misleading the public by what information was out there.
The more you thought about it, it was almost like you wanted to reveal yourself, wanted to get stabbed while you were sleeping, because thereâs an overwhelming question rolling around in your brain like a mis-weighted shooter marble: is thisâ)
âItâs not your fault.â
With crossed arms, Tom leant against the stone wall, his leg bent back for his bare foot to rest flat against it. He glanced sideways at you, sitting on your mill wheel perch almost halfway across the pond, but closer to the far side than to him.
Heâs got major bedhead, his curls just fucking flopping about out of his part, and even from where you are, his face burned red amidst wet tracks trailing down it. Still, thank God for little merciesâhis biceps were fucking straining the sleeves of his white t-shirt, and those idiotic, blessed grey sweatpants were low on his hips.
You lifted your head from your knees but still clutched them to your chest. âYouâre not going out, then?â
âOf course not,â Tom said, and he wiped his nose with the back of his hand. âCanât be crying during a meeting, yeah?â
âBeen boxing?â
âYeah.â
âDid you get any sleep last night?â
âNot really.â
He ran his tongue over his lower lip and sighed, and then he slid his hands into his pockets, his eyes glossing over while he watched the moss youâd picked off float in the pond.
Youâre not going to fucking cry. Tom came out here for a reason. He has a purpose. All you have to do is wait.
Eventually, he said, âYouâre avoiding what I said.â
You tilted your head.
âListen, I know youâre beating yourself up about it. Itâs not your fault this happened. None of this is your fault. Hey.â Tom tapped the wall, the travelling reverberations making you look up at him. âWhoeverâs doing this is doing it of their own volition and not because of you. You hold no culpability for this.â
âBruh,â you said, âOne of your best friends is dead, and youâre comforting me? I thought I was the masochist.â
Tom scowled, his brow furrowing. âViperââ
âI canât interact with someone without putting them in danger, at a disturbingly high rate. You want me to enumerate where Iâve stuck my nose in not my business and people have gotten killed? Senator Hernandez, Isadora,â you began, holding up two fingers, âThe nine men guarding Isadora, Maccabruno, Polsonââ
âDonât you dare do that to yourself.â Tom took a step forward, his foot almost curving into the pond. âYou didnât use the knife. You didnât pull any triggers.â
âYeah, but I sent them there. And a good many of them went because it was their job.â You sneered and propped your chin on your knees again.
âAnd itâs part of your jobââ
âYeah, whatever. Your friend is dead, and I have no home. Iâve stopped contacting the few people in my circle on the chance that they get dragged into thisâGrace, Adrienâheâs the lights specialist guy, in case you donât rememberâIâve got to email Glory, but that canât be helped. And Dr. Prine onlyâfuck,â you said, dragging your hands down your face. âI donât want anything to fucking happen to Dr. Prine. Or your family, for that matter.â
âEveryone not involved in the business is currently in hiding upstate,â said Tom, eyes narrowed as he glared at you. âIf you like, I can ensure the sameââ
âStop acting so damn calm, Tom.â You let your legs dangle off the platform, hands clenching the edges. âI donât have any strings left to pull. And fucking hell, I know that it would be extremely and absurdly conceited of me to believe that this series of crimes is aimed specifically at me, because how deluded, how arrogant could I getâbut goddammit, this stuff feels a little too personalised. It feels like this person knows me.â
Tom clicked his tongue. âDonât you think itâs worth something that Glory Pham has been left alone? He knows how to get into Crosscreek, yet Glory hasnât been touched. Is that not worthwhile?â
Your eyes watered, but you ducked your head so that he couldnât seeâbut you released a dry sob (Fuck! Now is not the time for crying! Now is the time for being badass! Frown, or something!).
Tom spoke so quietly you almost didnât catch it. âDo you want to leave?â
God, no. But it would make you feel like less of a burden. âLet me find an apartment first.â
âNo, not like that. Hey, V. Look at me,â he said, and he tapped on the wall again.
You wouldnât. Not like this. Not when your nose was running and when you didnât have a plan.
âPlease look at me, Viper.â
Glowering, you raised your head, lifting your chin higher than normal to seem confident, and oh, Godâhis eyes were wide and gentle; heâs leaning as far as he can over the pond, still unable to reach you.
âWhat I meant was if you wanted to leave the mob.â
It rang through your head like a distant cathedral bell, chiming through a deserted townâbut then you were farther, out on the mountains, still listening to faint clanging.
âYouâd have to kill me,â you said, shaking your head, âDonât you remember?â
âFuck,â Tom was saying, sucking in through his teeth, and after glancing at the water, he started jogging around the pond.
âI swore. I bled. And then even after thatâthen you knighted me.â You inhaled sharply when he reached the stones youâd climbed. âIâve let you down.â
âViper, get the fuck down from there and come here,â he said, and he withdrew, winching, when he stepped on a sharp edge.
âWe shouldnât have met,â you said, looking over your shoulder at him, and Tom froze, his hand partially gripping a hole in the stone wall. âI shouldnât have taken the job. I should have gone to a different city. I should haveââ
âWasted your life away in the shadows? Just shut up and get down here.â
âAh! The fuck?â You swatted his hand away when it grazed the platform, and when he climbed up another step, you pushed yourself off the platform and into the pond.
The first thing that struck you was how quiet everything was once the bubbles dissipated, and then you noticed how clear the water was, even from within itâglancing down, you could easily see your feet treading water above the broken grist mill wheels that had sunken to the bottom.
Before you could take it in to feel the emptiness in your chest, bubbles filled your vision againâand then his hands were grappling for you, grasping at your clothes, and pulling you towards the surface.
âI wasnât fucking drowning,â you said, sliding a hand back through your hair, while Tom shook his head to flick off excess water. âI was fine withoutââ
âI know you werenât.â Tom gripped your waist tightly enough to be painful, and he slid his other hand up between your shoulder blades. âI know. You wouldnât die on me, and Iâm not letting anyone else lay their hands on you. Câmon, arms around.â
He guided your arms around his waist, and once you had a good grip (hands sliding up his back), he kicked off to swim to the stone wall, backing you into it. Your toes skimmed the bottom of the pond, but Tom kept your head above the water, his thumbs circling your hipbones through your wet clothes.
Tom closed his eyes, his eyelashes heavy with water droplets. âThereâs no solution to this where you die, got it?â
âShucks.â
âI mean it. Talk to me. Tell me what you can.â Tom let out a breath slowly, and he bent to rest his forehead on your shoulder. âPlease,â he said once you tensed up, his breath hot through your wet shirt, âWonât you let me in?â
(Fuck fuck fuck fuck his chest is flush against yours; heâs so warm, so damn warm all over, and the waterâs chill only makes you want to cling to him more, fuck.)
âYou wonât like me,â you said, tentatively lifting a hand to curl your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly, âIâm not whom Iâve presented to you. I donât have it under control.â
âI donât expect you to.â Tom turned his head towards you; his lips almost grazed your neck (you relish their warmth anyway). âYou wouldnât be human, otherwise.â
âI donât know an awful lot. Some days it seems like all I do is guesswork.â You grimaced but kept the slim distance from Tomâs mouth. If he wanted to, he would. âIâm lost completely on whoever the fake Epiales is. I keep looking for a pattern in everything, evenâeven so far back as toââ
You stuttered. Tom had pressed his lips to the base of your neck.
âThereâs no consistency,â he said, nuzzling his nose against the spot where your neck met shoulder, âbut thereâs got to be a larger plan. I get it. The whole case is like a hydra, and weâre chopping blindly at the heads.â
(Oh, my God, he kissed you? He kiss the neck? He?)
âOh! I forgot to tell you.â Tom pulled away to look you in the eye, and your mouth hung open of its own accordâcome back! âI made myself watch the video again.â His jaw shifted. âTo see if I missed anything, and I did. This time, I recognised the symbol on the guyâs forehead.â Tom lightly traced it onto your forehead with his middle finger. âItâs a zodiac symbol. Itâs the one for Taurus.â
You nodded, still not really thinking at full capacity. âGreat. Another piece of evidence that I wonât be able to make fucking sense of. Goddammit. Iâm so useless. Goddammit,â you said, dropping your hand from his hair into the water with a splash. âTom, I donât talk to my mother much anymore. She doesnât know where or who I am, and to be honest, I donât know who I am, either. I donât know where the truth is.â
You nearly slapped him when you cupped his cheek, like you were desperate, like you had to be touching him, skin on skin, that instant. Itâd be nice if he would close his eyes and lean into your touch, maybe kiss your palm, but Tom simply stared at you in shock, eyes wide, brows raised, mouth pinched.
Donât tell him, you whore. You built this fucking kingdom with its walls and bastions so that you would be safe when the outer defences crumbled. Youâve set aside parts of yourself into neat little boxes so that you can throw any of them away at any time and escaped unscathed. Donât you fucking dare screw that up. Tom doesnât know about Epiales so that you can expose and destroy him if youâre on his chopping block; itâs insurance for when everything falls.
Bitch, since when do you want to be honest and raw and vulnerable around anyone?
You canât let him in.
âYouâre still a woman of honour,â Tom said, andâoh, God, oh, fuckâheâs easing his hands down your body, his chest pressed against yours again, and heâs sliding them down your thighs to hook underneath your knees, and heâs hitched you up against the wall, the definition of his muscles real and palpable through the wet clothes, warm, warm, warmâ
âI should apologise,â you said, turning your head to the side while he steered your legs around his waist, âI canât imagine what you must be feeling right now.â
âYou canât?â Tom shifted you upwards, and thatâs it; your heat is directly against him; you can feel every pull and tensing of his tendons, and if he keeps moving the way he is, then youâllâ
âIâm so sorry for making this about me when Z was closer to you. We shouldnât waste time on me; we need to be searching, arranging a funeral if we canât find anything.â You scrunched your eyes shut.
âYouâre deflecting.â Tom let out a shuddery sigh. âIâve lost too many people. Donât make me lose you when youâre right in front of me,â he said, and he pressed his lips right below your ear.
You flinched away on impulse but tried to relax into him, blinking profusely.
Tom pushed against you (not localised enough to qualify as a thrust), and he cleared his throat before pulling away from your neck. âListen, please. Please.â He shifted your weight to one hand and gripped your chin with his freed one. His eyes flickered to your mouth before he moved to rest his hand on your cheek. âYouâre invaluable. Irreplaceable. You are no burden and are not at fault.â He clenched his jaw. âBut I know youâre keeping something from me, and I will make the answer fall from your lips soon.â
Your own chin was shaking, and he was too close. If you put aside separate-self-as-insurance for a moment, letâs consider Tom did find out about Epiales. Would he control you through it? Would he use you to influence those he couldnât reach? Would he grab hold of Dr. Prine? He might squeeze your life and time through his fist, and your freedom would be gone. Epiales was your freedom, your space to create and connect.
He was too close.
âYouâve got to promise not to hate me,â you said, and when he raised an eyebrow, you made your decision to lean in.
âNo,â he said, andâand your lips met his cheek.
Heâd turned his head.
After all that, heâs going to turn his head?
âNo,â he said again, taking your chin again and leading you away, back to leaning against the stone wall, âI donât want our first kiss connected to the memory of mourning. I can wait a bit longer.â
Tom released your legs, letting them sink. âYou once told me that if you let yourself be vulnerable, you didnât want an audience. I think,â he said, frowning, âI think you still see me as an outsider. As a member of that audience. And again, you said that you didnât want it if it werenât real.â He stepped away from you entirely, and he started wading towards the edge of the pond. âIâm going to hold you to the same standard. Iâll wait until youâre ready to be real with me.â
Tom slinked out of the pond, flicking away what excess water he could, and he squinted into the sun on the horizon. He shook his head, water flying, and he glanced back at you and scoffed. âEasy, sweetheart. No need to wear your heart on your sleeve now.â
His voice trailed off as he rounded the corner towards the door.
The sun is rising, and you feel rather cold.
***
inter vivos: between the living
***
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#tom holland#tom holland x reader#tom holland/reader#tom holland fanfic#tom holland fanfiction#mob au#mob!tom holland#mob tom holland#viper au#dash it all
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-> youâre mesmerized â
-> love! triangle (Jeno, Renjun, OC)
-> ⥠➠â
playlist⢠heather, conan gray/Something, The Beatles/ flowers in december, Mazzy Star/ A BOY IS A GUN*, Tyler the Creator/ love again, nct dream/ soft universe, AURORA/ butterflies, kacy musgravesâ˘
ââââââââ â đŹđđđŤđ â
â˘December 3rd plays in your mind as u and Jeno stand by his locker on the first day back to school from winter break.
â˘although it was a month ago, u still remember it like it was yesterday
â˘u and Jeno had gone to the fair in your town
â˘the last one of the year. They called it the winter festival
â˘basic
â˘but ur friend group had a tradition of going together.
â˘everything was going fine, until you and Jeno had broken off from the group to look at the phat christmas tree.
â˘you had forgotten a sweater, and Jeno was more than willing to give u his, along w one of his famous eye smiles
â˘u swore up and down (In ur own head) that that was the day you knew you liked (loved) him
â˘Jeno couldnât stop staring at you in it. And when u turned to him, all he said was
â˘âit looks even better on you than me.â
â˘and then he kissed u
â˘yeah
â˘so this is love
â˘you thought something would happen when you went back to school that Monday.
â˘but nothing came. Just Jeno refusing to meet ur eyes
â˘or talk to u://
â˘Jaemin said it was because he was scared and that you just needed to be patient
â˘u accepted it, and waited for the day he kissed u once more
â˘by Christmas break, yâall were back to being best budsâ˘ď¸
â˘and you thought maybe when Yâall returned for school, he would have worked up enough nerve to seal the deal w you
â˘but on that first day back
â˘in front of his locker
â˘Jeno locked eyes on the new girl, heather, for the first time
â˘the way he looked was absolutely beautiful.
â˘he had wide, open eyes
â˘and he couldnât stop staring at her as she walked by and Laughed at something her tour guide said to her.
â˘yeah, he looked absolutely mesmerized
â˘but it wasnât directed at you
â˘and you knew you lost him
â˘by lunch, heather was in your group
â˘turns out Jeno had history with her. And he wasnât as âscaredâ as Jaemin said he was at making moves
â˘all the boys loved her, and while you really wanted to hate her
â˘u couldnât deny that she was an absolute angel
â˘she had an eye smile, like Jeno
â˘and dimples
â˘and long, beautiful eyelashes
â˘and a beautiful laugh
â˘and she could keep up w haechans jokes, and chenji so easily called her noona, something they never did w you
â˘Jaemin tried flirting w her, but Jeno looked so protective over her, that Jaemin turned to you and shrugged while wrapping his arm around u
â˘u wanted to throw up when heather politely asked u and Jaemin how long u had been together
â˘and Jaemin threw his arm off u, and made gagging noises while the rest of the table laughed
â˘heather got red, and mumbled an apology to you while bowing.
â˘You wanted to hate her, you wanted to yell at her. But then, ppl would know that you liked Jeno. Jeno would know. And that was too embarrassing
â˘so you smiled at her, laughed, and shook your head while holding up a hand
â˘âJaemin and me? Please, Iâd rather die a lonely virgin with 50 catsâ
â˘Heather laughed, and scooted closer to you, and said âitâll be so nice to have a girl friend!â
â˘yes, u wanted to throw up.
â˘but u just wrapped your arm around her, like Jaemin did to u
â˘and reassured her that you two were already getting married, while she laughed
â˘over the course of the next two weeks, she spent more and more time with ur group
â˘and in three weeks, it was no longer just you and jeno by his locker every morning, but you, Jeno, and heather
â˘you and her were talking about how terrible the lunch food was
â˘when Jeno came up, and wrapped his arm around her shoulder Before giving her a kiss on her forehead, to which she blushed furiously for
â˘your mind went back to four nights ago, when heather scream texted u (âJSNSISHEVRBâ) that Jeno had drove over to her house with milkshakes, took her to a park, and asked her to be his gf
â˘u cried all night, four nights ago
â˘after he says hello to u, yâall three talk for a while before the bell rings.
â˘Jeno and heather start walking towards class, talking about some random thing, while u walk slower in the back, basic third wheel style
â˘you couldnât stop staring at their interlocked hands.
â˘u felt bad. Because heather had easily become ur best girl friend
â˘but u loved her boyfriend
â˘and u lowkey wanted her to die
â˘:/
â˘u felt like this wasnât fair.
â˘u had known Jeno far longer than she did
â˘why did she get him?
â˘your thoughts silently went on like this for three more months after this incident.
â˘May 1st.
â˘every 1st, your group developed a routine of going to this cafe, just down the street from haechans house
â˘you would all order milkshakes and fries and sometimes burgers or onion rings
â˘and you would all just have a good time
â˘you were feeling a lil down today
â˘heather had told u that her and Jeno kissed for the first time, and said they loved each other
â˘to make literally all matters worse, she was wearing the sweater Jeno had let u wear, all those months ago
â˘the pain in ur heart had numbed. It didnât hurt so bad anymore everytime you saw them w interlocked hands, or w his arm around her, like now, where they sat across from you in the half circle booth.
â˘you couldnât stop looking as ur usual waiter, Jane, came up.
â˘âhey yâall, I hope you donât mind, but we have a new worker that needs training, and since yâall are so sweet, I figured he could practice on you? Is that okay?â Her sweet southern bell accent made it hard to say no, not that your group of friends would anyway.
â˘u actually knew Jane quite well. She was in ur grade, and sat next to you in art.
â˘u loved her honestly
â˘u also loved how the blush on Haechanâs face increased, and he couldnât look up to meet the sweet red heads eyes, which were actively looking at the young boy
â˘ah, young love
â˘u made a mental note to talk Haechan up to her tomorrow in art (which you texted Haechan under the table, and he looked up at u in surprise with a smile on his face)
â˘when u looked away from Haechan, up to the new waiter standing in front of you with a shaky voice and nervous eye
â˘u felt like the air was sucked out of u
â˘oh my God thatâs the most beautiful boy Iâve ever seen
â˘you knew u looked mesmerized
â˘wide eyes, open mouth
â˘u looked like jeno, three months ago
â˘jeno saw this
â˘he didnât say anything, but he saw it
â˘tbh, jeno did like u on december 3rd
â˘and he was going to tell u he liked u on the first day back, after break
â˘but heather was,,
â˘amazing
â˘the one thing he ever needed
â˘his soulmate, he thinks
â˘that didnât mean he still didnât care for u
â˘but when u so willingly befriended heather, he thought u were okay
â˘so he never questioned it
â˘but the way you looked at the waiter,,
â˘he thought you looked mesmerizing
â˘so he was going to help u, bc u deserved it
â˘when the waiter got around the table and finally turned to you to ask for ur drink, he locked eyes on u and
â˘my man dropped his pencil pad
â˘he got so red, and went to pick it up, but halted when you started giggling at him
â˘he sent a smile ur way, then went to reach to get the pad
â˘renjun had liked u since freshman year
â˘he hated biology, but ur beautiful smile and the way you threw your head back when you laughed made it waayyyy more bearable
â˘he had never talked to you, and barely saw you when sophomore year came around
â˘but that didnât mean he didnât think abt u
â˘u were literally always on his mind
â˘he was so excited for Advanced Art 3 this year
â˘he had heard there was a lot of portrait drawings
â˘and he had gotten marked down before for drawing you for assignments when he wasnât supposed to (not by much doe because they were THAT good)
â˘so he was excited to freely be able to draw u
â˘but bruh when he walked in and u were
â˘THERE
â˘ugh he was sad
â˘not that sad tho bc
â˘u were THERE
â˘he saw u a lot with the only other girl in ur friend group, so he felt too embarrassed to say hi
â˘but he promises his bsf, mark, that he would have if u were alone,,,
â˘all the damn time
â˘(mark donât believe him doe, i agree)
â˘he had never looked directly into ur eyes
â˘which is why everytime he drew u, he felt like the eyes were wrong
â˘so wrong
â˘but he couldnât place what it was
â˘but having u look into his eyes now
â˘my god he was so excited to go home and draw u
â˘but u,,,u were not excited
â˘bc wtf just happened
â˘u,,at the time,,didnât know u had just met the loyl
â˘bc u had only ever really liked jeno before
â˘u decided to push that shit D O W N
â˘but jeno
â˘he was like ânahâ
â˘he had said that he wanted to pay, and before anyone could argue (k like anyone would argue) he grabbed the bill and shuffled heather out of the seat so he could get out
â˘he grabbed her hand and walked towards the cash register, where jane was standing
â˘when u saw them holding hands it,,weirdly didnât bother u
â˘all u could think abt was that beautiful waiters smile
â˘jeno and heather walked up to jane nd were like
â˘âjane, đ
ąď¸ls get our waiter, we have to play cupid.â
â˘renjun: comes out from the kitchen
â˘jeno: ây/n, the girl sitting over there? yeah, this is her numberâ
â˘jeno: slides over the bill, w ur # written on it (he put it in the section that said âTip_______â bc he thought he was funny. like, ur tip is a whole ass gf)
â˘renjun: blush
â˘jeno: âjust tell her who u are bc she doesnât know weâre doing this but we can tell yâall like each other uwuâ
â˘renjun: huh *sweat*
â˘jeno: âmkay byeyeeeeeâ
â˘renjun indeed did text u that night
â˘after texting mark first (âJAJSNSNDBSBDBD BRUH GUESS WHAT JUST HAPPENEDâ ânew phone who disâ âMARK DIS IS SERIOUS DIENDJAJSBâ)
â˘and mark coached him through what to say
â˘so naturally, renjun looked like a fucking idiot
â˘but u thought it was cute uwu
â˘and u were sharpening ur ax to literally murder jeno uwu â¤ď¸â¨đđ
â˘when renjun asked u if u wanted to go on a date uwu
â˘and u were like âummmm yethâ
â˘u agreed yâall would over the weekend
â˘but yet
â˘when u walked into art the next day and bumped into a rando
â˘and looked up
â˘and you and renjun locked eyes
â˘u had a feeling yâall would be hanging out sooner than the weekend
â˘the thought had u smiling wide while you said hello
fin.
ââââââââ â end â
#mine#my works#my work#nct#nct dream#nct 127#wayv#nct u#nct 2018#nct 2019#lee jeno#nct jeno#nct lee jeno#nct dream jeno#nct dream lee jeno#huang renjun#nct renjun#nct huang renjun#nct dream renjun#nct dream huang renjun#nct dream x reader#nct x reader#nct angst#nct dream angst#nct fluff#nct dream fluff#nct smut#nct dream smut#renjun fluff#jeno angst
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AU Chris is Paige and Richardâs son. What would his power be? What about Chrisâ relationships with his parents?
chris being paige and richardâs son would like totally explain why heâs Like That actually that would be a great au so once again iâm gonna bring up my conspiracy theory that richard was dosed with the blood of some greater being as a baby by his parents in the hopes of making some superwitch but as we all know from dr curtis williamson of astral monkey fame receiving the blood of someone more powerful than u can create some disastrous consequences, which i believe is exactly what we see with richard and his fucked up relationship to magic given richards advanced powers (namely conjuration) and also the fact that the montana family probably didn't want it to be obvious that they y'know experimented on their kid imma say richard was somehow infused with avatar blood, seeing as they were basically unknown beings until s7, so no one would really be able to id his powers. i also think that explains how we saw richard get so insanely powerful towards the end like in i dream of phoebe he was even able to manifest a teleportation power through conjuration bc as we learned, avatars draw their power from a collective, so iâm positing that having a relationship with paige especially like y'know it's physical there's an intense emotional element that we see she even lives with him so like. it's a Relationshipâ˘. yeah that whole relationship only added to his own powers as paige sorta became his collective (i don't think this takes away from paige's powers at all more like if you shine a flashlight into a mirror it bounces back that light it's not taking away any light from the flashlight it's simply using what it was given to create more if that makes sense like in the abstract we donât need to talk the physics of how light is reflected think of this in vague terms) so uh yeah thatâs whatâs up i think if richard did not have avatar blood he would just be a normal telekinetic which is a power we see him display at various points at just sort of a normal level couple that with the fact that paige is also a telekinetic and i think it is very safe to say that their child would have telekinesis i think telekinesis is the brown eyes of the magical world the dominant gene in the punnett square or whatever 7th grade was a long time ago i also think they are bound to some sort of teleportation power as both paige and richard can teleport iâd love to see it me some hybrid between fading and orbing as they are the first witchlightvatar i feel like they should have something wholly unique to show for it for another active power projection is an option as it is very close to conjuration while simultaneously being a power in the warren line but i wouldnât want to give chris the same power as wyatt tho seeing as chris is a family name from leoâs side it wouldnât quite make sense whenever i write about a paige/richard child i always call them bennie named after richardâs father which i think still works as chris is also named after his paternal grandfather but yeah the point i was making is having bennie travel through time and like exist in like this juxtaposition with wyatt idk i feel like itâs not as fun if they have the same power set so maybe iâll take richards conjuring and modify it to match paigeâs past life and say conjuring the elements? the entire montana family line seems to have energy balls as a power so like . that could add to that theory maybe. like the evil enchantress could conjuring lightning i think the avatars also had lightning powers but i think that was purely a leo addition and an elder power and paige has no ties to an elder status so. idk. i sorta like the conjuring the elements power i do think richard is the firstborn of his generation and paige is technically samâs firstborn so i think they both get Legacy Points there and then bennie would go on to be the first born in the montana line so i think that could justify very op power like conjuring the elements i think that they would inherit some of richardâs mania to some degree i mean as we know there is a genetic component to addiction and both paige and richard have suffered from it but i think since the foreign blood is a) diluted and b) in a host with a greater power capacity (as we know, witches get stronger with every generation and adding a charmed one into the mix is definitely an added boost) i donât think those genes would manifest themselves in the way they did with like richards obsession with magic however i think substance abuse and also probably and anxiety disorder are very much on the table if weâre talking bennie replaces chris as the one to come from the dark future quite frankly this kidâs gonna be more that a little fucked up bc lord knows nothing stable ever happened there i also think they wouldnât be nearly as good of a liar as chris as i think theyâre gonna have ten times more impulsivity i also think they wouldnât tip toe around the truth so much like i know chris is really anxious about like negatively impacting the future i do not think bennie would give nearly as much of a shit like the future already sucks thatâs why iâm here so Sit Down bc i have some Very Bad News for yâall i think like within the first ten episodes of season six bennie would have already made it very obvious that wyatt goes full dark no stars due to something thatâs about to happen i do think they would wanna keep it under wraps about their specific lineage bc like theyâre here to change a whole lot of things but i think theyâd still like to exist at the end of the day but i do think that phoebe would find out and the news would spread i think in the light future without an evil wyatt bennie would not end up remotely as fucked up as they also probz wouldnât be an orphan which i imagine is really likely in their dark future i think richard would strip his magic and live as a mortal but still teach bennie what he knows about magic and potion making bc like. heâs well verse. there are also a lot of montana traditions and secret recipes i think he would want to pass down but like not for one second i think richard would regret stripping his powers i think he would be making a potion with his kid and just be like yeah iâm so glad iâm not actually magical anymore this is just like making weird soup iâm not getting weird vibes and strange jolts of magic and funny voice in my head thereâs no pressure to get it right if itâll work or not iâm just here throwing ingredients in a cauldron w my kid : ) i also think richard would get like hella into tai chi or something very focused on medicine and alternative healing styles oh richard like paige was definitely also a pothead in high school but the point is bennie would be like very well versed in meditation and whatâs it called not aromatherapy but like. apothecary? herbaltherapy? plantohealing? you know that thing people are into like teas and herbs that fuckin uhh help with colds and stuff basically like the non magical properties of the world in fact i think theyâd be the most knowledgeable out of anyone from gen2 on like nonmagical uses for things like there are mortal ways to solve problems that can work just fine and i think yeah bennie does know richardâs past and the issues with magic i think that thatâs something that personally scares them not enough to like not practice but like enough that they donât ever like use magic for unnecessary purposes like they will Not be telekinetically closing the manor door shut at the end of the season they will be closing the door like a normal person that type of thing. in regards to a relationship with paige i think in the trying to fix the future part of this au bennie would get really close to paige bc like again paige probably was murdered in the dark future but i donât think bennie would be like chris like sheâs just gonna die so why get close i think bennie would really utilized the time that they do have to just like. be with their mom. i think paige would definitely be freaked to like be a mom bc sheâs like woah iâm not that old and like have a 22 year old call you mom like definitely ages you but like i do think paige would see a lot of herself in her kid especially as this version of bennie like grew up really without parents and like this that and the other theyâd also really remind paige of the kids she saw at social services and i do think paige would be very like mom-y around her kid like i would not describe paige as a motherly woman i would never call her the mom friend but like around bennie she like goes full mom like cuts crusts off sandwiches and everything mode (piper and phoebe find it fucking hilarious)
#really love the idea of a paige richard kid#which i have talked about before on this blog#i also like really like richard he was done so dirty#but like he could have been something man#whatever underrated character#charmed#paige matthews#richard montana#paige x richard#bennie montana#đ#au
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