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passivenovember · 10 months ago

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Harringrove Relay Race -- passing the torch to @raven-cl ! Run babe RUN!

blooming forth, it's every color in the moments it has left.

Turns out, shit hits the fan in the dark.

Steve’s known that. It’s still a surprise when Billy takes Max and hits the ground hot with his feet aching after a long shift at the pool, even though his sandals are covered in blood. His. Neil's.

Doesn't actually matter, because when Steve wakes up to a phone call so late in the night he thinks someone's gotta be dead or dying, or they need to get sucked off like they need air and water and Steve's gotten himself penciled in as the number-one, go-to asshat for both types of situations--

Point is, the phone goddamn rings. Sounds like pennies being thrown against the walls of Steve’s two-bedroom apartment. And it's the middle of the night. All that matters is that when Steve rolls over and yanks the receiver from its cradle, all, "Someone better be dying–”

Billy's trying his best not to cry. "I hit him," Billy says, an earthquake that shakes the foundation of the city. That gets Steve wide-eyed and fearful and awake. "Fuck, Steve, I hit him--"

“What?” Steve sits ramrod in bed, covers a limp and useless pool around him. "Are you alright?"

"I'm. There's, like. Blood," Billy says, "I guess."

"You guess?"

"I'm okay. Nothing’s broken," Billy pulls away from the phone to say something to someone. To Max, Steve would bet money on it. And then he says, "I have blood on my feet. And. Max has blood in her hair so it looks black, almost, and. Shit, Steve, I hit him--"

"Where are you?”

"--It might be Neil's blood," Billy tells him. Like Steve's lost in the weeds, here. Like he needs a compass pointing him toward the huge, terrible obvious truth. "I--"

"Fuck who's blood it is," Steve tells him, already upright struggling into a pair of week-old jeans. He tries not to focus on that, swallows against the urge to be harsh with himself, because he was knocked out two minutes ago, dreaming of the pretty pink pucker of Billy's cunt when the phone rang. "That's not important. Where are you," Steve asks, cock still hard because he's human, getting tangled in the phone cord, "You said. Is Max--"

"She's okay. We're at a gas station about twenty miles outside of town."

Steve's hard-on dies. "Twenty miles outside of town?"

"Yeah."

"What are you talking about?" Steve doesn't put a shirt on. He throws a jacket over his chest. Billy's jacket. Doesn't even zip the thing. "Never mind. I'm coming to get you."

"The car works, you don't need to get out of bed."

"I'm dressed, I'm out of bed," Steve says, teasing, "Stay put. Are you, like. East or west, twenty miles out of town?"

"Steve," Billy says, and it casts an unflattering spotlight on everything.

Steve ducks to hide from it, searching under his bed for a pair of shoes. "Okay, yeah. Stupid fucking question to ask, but I was asleep--"

"We have to go," Billy tells him.

"Okay," Steve says quickly. Doesn't like the tone of Billy's voice. "Let's go, blue. Where are we going?"

“Max and I–”

“--And you and me,” Steve finishes for him.

“Steve,” Billy says. “You know Max and I can't stay here."

Steve shoves his bare feet into a pair of shoes. Rain boots. "So, you're just gonna leave? Without saying goodbye? There’s no other option, here?”

"This isn't about you."

"Fine," Steve says, stalking over to his dresser mirror. The phone cord tugs on him, not nearly long enough, and he fights the urge to rip it out of the wall. Doesn’t. 'Cause. He'd lose Billy.

Steve fiddles with it, anyway, trying to keep calm. “How’re you gonna get there?”

“We’ll drive.”

“Okay, and what happens when you get to where you’re going?”

“Wow, aren’t you the bearer of bad fuckin’ news–”

“--Billy, you don't have money.”

“So?”

“So, I have money,” Steve concludes, “A shit load of it.”

"Fuck you, I have a shitload of money."

"No, you don't."

"Yeah huh, I've been saving up."

Steve snorts, grasping at straws because. It’s true. The exact opposite of everything Steve’s been hoping would never happen, the same thing as a knife slicing through his heart. Billy’s been saving. Steve knows he’s been saving because Steve pays for every date because Steve’s a dead fuckin’ end and has nothing to goddamn lose by treating his boy right. He’s not going anywhere from here, but Billy–

"You're not leaving,” Steve says.

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

“Fine, then,” Steve backtracks expertly, a perk of what he learned dating girls for nineteen years before this. “You can’t go without saying goodbye.”

“Sap.”

“Let me kiss you, man. I fuckin’. I love--"

"--Steve--"

"--No, it's alright. I gotta say this, 'cause. Every fucking thing in my life is about you, right?"

Billy groans. When he speaks again, his voice is muffled by the wall of whatever payphone booth he's standing in. "You're so annoying."

"So are you. I'm being honest," Steve says. He ducks, a little, peering at his reflection from across the room so he can run a hand through his hair, at least, 'cause.

He's still got a crush on Billy, after all this time. Sue him.

"You're, like," Steve says intelligently, choking to death. "You're everything. You chopped everything up with just bein' yourself and slid into its place and I fuckin' care about you more than. Everything. And if you're going to run away to California--"

"--Who said I was--"

"--Twenty miles west outside of Hawkins?" Steve points out.

Billy doesn't say anything.

Through the static of the phone line, Steve imagines him cast in the grimy street glow of payphone booth glass, tempered but breaking. Twenty miles away but already gone.

Makes Steve crazy. Makes him want to hold on tighter, hard enough to break his own fingers. "I just," He starts, turning from the mirror, "I always thought, or. Maybe I've been thinking lately that if you're going to California, I'd be there to help."

To see you off. To hold your hand. To beg you to make room enough in your suitcase for me to come along–

"Oh yeah? You've been thinking that always?" Billy teases, and. It's gotta be a good thing. That even though he has blood on his feet, he's feeling okay enough to crack-wise.

"Please," Steve says. Tells him. Begs. Has nothing left to do but make it through this phone call even though he's about to shake loose from his own skin.

Steve is very cool these days.

Billy pulls away from the phone and says something, to Max, in a soft, pillow-top rumble that does shit, like. To Steve's belly. His heart. The very rotten, love-sick matter of who he is. Who Billy has turned him into.

Steve bites his tongue hard enough to taste blood, swallowing every single please please please that shifts like the fabric of a sourdough starter in the back of his throat. Steve paces. Taps his foot. Digs his nails into the palm of his free hand while Billy and Max argue in hushed voices for what feels like hours and years.

Finally, Billy says, "Okay, fuckin'. What happens if Neil hears that we haven't left town?"

Steve has to focus so his knees don't give out, full of relief. "That won’t happen. No one pays attention to me. This is an apartment complex."

"Yeah, but what if he drives by and sees the car?"

"I'll kill him," Steve says. Simple, because it is.

Billy snorts. It almost, almost, sounds like a laugh. "'Kay, well. Say he doesn't go looking for the Camaro. What if he calls Hawkins High to try and find out about Max?”

“He won’t.”

“You’re fuckin’ stupid for saying that,” Billy snaps, “Neil doesn’t give a shit about me but her? He won’t let her–”

“--I won’t let him–”

“Shut up; just. What if he shows up during fifth period and--"

"--We're both over eighteen. We’re old as shit, old enough to drink, almost, We'll. I dunno. We’ll change her emergency contact first thing tomorrow so they'll call me at the video store when he breaks into the building," Steve says, "And then I can take my fifteen-minute break to drive over there and kill him."

Billy does laugh that time. Sounds like it hurts. He pulls away from the phone to repeat Steve's evil plan to Max, who starts laughing, too, and Steve would do anything for them. He would be anything for them.

"Come over," Steve says, coiling the phone line around his hand, "Just until we can figure something else out. We can park your car ‘round back by the slop sinks. No one ever goes over there, we can hide you."

"Steve--"

"I can't watch you walk away from me, Billy," Steve says, and. His voice. Fuckin’. Cracks. Like glass and barren earth. A fist to the back of his own head, still. Desperately, pathetically in love with Billy even after all this time. Still drowning in the intensity of it. Sue him.

"Fuck, this is so fucking dumb," Billy says, aching. But he tells Max to sit in the car.

Steve considers it a win.

He decides not to waste the get-up.

Twenty miles'll go by in a heartbeat, and Billy has a tendency to sugarcoat shit when it comes to the marks Neil Hargrove leaves behind. Tends to get jumpy, ready to go pedal-to-the-metal.

Steve prepares for the worst. Makes three cups of coffee, to fight the dregs of the worst, and then dumps them into the sink when he remembers that Max is sixteen years old and it's a Wednesday. Thursday, now.

Whatever.

He makes tea, instead, and sits in the shitty lawn chair on his porch, sipping a mug of the very same chamomile bullshit that Robin keeps buying him.

Steve tries to cobble together a plan in under 30 minutes.

He imagines Billy, shaking and scared and covered in blood, on the canvas chair next to him. Asking how. How are you going to do this? How are you going to prove yourself a safe house for me and my kid sister?

Steve tries not to swallow his tongue, choking to death on the absolute weight of such a responsibility. He focuses on not dying. Hones in on how pissed Robin would be to discover such a close call, and how she would remind him to list the facts.

Truth is, a two-bedroom apartment is more than enough room, Steve tells her. Tells Billy, who looks easier to convince than the one who's on his way in from the edge of town. Everything will be alright. He'll fix up the couch for Max until he can get down to Red Oak Furniture after work tomorrow for a bed frame. He'll need to dip into his savings, but a sixteen year old girl needs her own space, she needs a bed.

Tears slide down Billy's cheeks and Robin disappears. When Billy cries he has a way of wounding everything around him.

His eyes say we need groceries. Steve needs to shop for groceries. Max won't eat a vegetable, but she's still growing, Harrington, and Steve doesn't make enough dough to afford fresh ingredients every week, just when he's putting on his a-game to get into Billy's pants, but.

He's always trying to get into Billy's pants.

Everything boils down to money. Steve needs a new job.

He sips Robin's shitty fuckin' chamomile and tries to focus on the immediate, too piss-poor to list the facts. He'll make tea when they arrive. Dinner, if they're hungry. The couch made up. The tea, drank, and tomorrow when the blood is gone from Billy's feet and his tears have dried, Steve'll call his father and beg for an assistant gig at the office downtown. He's got mouths to feed, now, he's got--

Billy's Camaro swings into view.

Steve jumps to his feet, rain boots squeaking, and holds his breath when the car disappears around the corner, parking where Steve said it would be safe.

"We're only staying for the night," Billy tells him, instead of hello, voice hard as marble the second Steve is close enough to really hear it.

Max throws the passenger door open.

Her backpack is stuffed. Soft. “What the fuck are you wearing?” Max demands.

Steve shifts under the intensity of her stare, embarrassed. “Billy said. I was gonna come and–”

“--You look stupid,” Max tells him helpfully.

Before Steve can move or breathe or think, Max storms past him in a fury of wild red hair and red, wet cheeks. "Thanks," Steve says, but the door slams shut before she hears him.

The entire apartment complex shakes. Hawkins, too, and the world, beyond that. Steve can't take his eyes off it, for a second. For a lifetime. It's a black hole, eating and eating and eating--

"Sorry about that," Billy says. When Steve looks at him, Billy's still half-hanging out of the car. One foot on the ground. Leaning against the gaping wound of the driver's seat with his arm on the lip of the door, like. Steve's going to take Max and tell Billy to fuck off forever.

His head is bald.

The cut is uneven, vicious. Almost like--

"Hey, pretty thing," Steve says. Everything's yellow from the Camaro's headlights, everything lies shattered in the grass around them. "Don't worry about it, she's upset."

Billy nods, the rest of him terrible and still.

Steve aches. He moves closer. "Baby. Do you want to come inside?"

"I didn't get to pack a bag," Billy says, like it matters, somehow.

It doesn't. "I have clothes you can wear," Steve tells him, padding closer, hands splayed as if approaching some sweet, terrified, rabid animal. “You know that you can have whatever you want, right? With me?”

Billy nods again, still unmoving. Still unseeing. "We're just staying until sunrise," Billy tells him, trained on the soft, fleshy landing of Steve's throat as it swings into view. "Just until it's light enough."

Billy's ear bleeds. Or. It did, at one point. Like someone came at him with a butcher's knife, swinging blindly but only getting his hair.

Steve has trouble remembering that the world isn’t burning around them

"It's just,” Billy tries, “It's not safe to drive when it's dark like this, y'know?"

"I know," Steve says. Billy's chest heaves like he's being chased, so. Steve nods. "Max is lucky to have someone like you. Someone who knows what they're doing."

"Right. So fucking lucky," Billy shakes his head, snorting bitterly. "Doesn't matter. Couple hours and we're gone, Harrington. I swear."

Steve reaches the car door, fiddling with its handle. Touching Billy without. Touching him. Testing the waters. "I'm not worried about it."

"You've probably never had to run from your fuckin’ house in the middle of the night," Billy tells him, finally looking at Steve but not. Seeing him. "This is the third time for me. First for Max."

Steve notices a black eye. A split lip.

Billy's still the most beautiful thing he's ever seen. "I've never had to run," Steve tells him, because it's easiest to get the hard shit out of the way, first.

He wants to know about the other two times.

He wants to ask about California. If things were the same with his father there. If Billy's really going as soon as it's light out. If the blood in Max’s hair is her own, and how Billy would feel about Steve pressing his thumbs into Neil's eye sockets before the sun rises and Billy has the chance to run away.

Maybe. The proven death of this monster will change things.

Steve inches closer, instead, past the lip of the car door. He slips into Billy's space, grateful when Billy lets Steve touch his chest, checking for injuries.

"I could always go home, before," Billy says, eyes unfocused over Steve's shoulder when fingers prod at his ribcage, "But. I never had Max. I always had to go home to make sure she was gonna be okay without me, and then I'd be too scared to leave her behind so I’d just stay put until–"

"Does it hurt when I press down like this?"

Billy shakes his head, "Steve. She's sixteen--"

"What about here? Does this hurt?"

"She wouldn't stay," Billy looks at him, then, tracking whatever emotion breaks like a wave between them, "Neil started, and. It got bad, Steve. And she wouldn't fuckin' stay put like I told her to, and now. We have no place to--"

"--Is she hurt?"

"She's homeless," Billy says. Steve exhales through his nose, trying to keep up. "We're homeless. I made her homeless," Billy tells him, with rising panic.

Steve takes his hand. "Let's get you cleaned up."

"We don't have anywhere to live, Steve."

"Billy, look at me," Steve grabs his face gingerly, staring into his beautiful, shattered, empty eyes. "You live here with me, baby. We're here together and I'm not going to let anything happen to you, right? Yes?"

Billy blinks at him, coming back to himself. He nods. "Just until tomorrow, right? Until I can--"

“Sure, whatever,” Steve says, playing along if that's what will get him into the house.

The shower's running.

Billy won't let go of Steve's hand so they shuffle through the cramped living room together on plan b, stuck like paper dolls. Max has made up the couch, and already has the T.V. on, so Steve leads Billy to the bedroom, depositing him gingerly onto the unmade mattress.

“Sit still,” Steve tells him.

“I know,” Billy says, far away even as he strangles the blood from Steve’s wrist. “Max was right, you look like a dork.”

“I was asleep when you called,” Steve says thinly. “I thought you were running away.”

“I was.”

“Ah, truth comes out,” Steve ducks to retrieve a battered first aid kit from under the nightstand, because. This isn't the first time Billy's shown up in the middle of the night but it’s the worst shape Steve’s seen.

Steve swallows that, too, and struggles to get the fuckin' thing open with only one hand. He can't feel the other, Billy's holding on so tight, but Steve's not complaining.

He holds on just as tight. Just as hard. Wonders what counts as running off, in Billy's mind. If there are certain boxes Neil has to check to push Billy to that point, the 'running away and never coming back,' point, and Steve can't sift through his rampant emotions quick enough to discover what it means that all those times Billy stumbled through the dark and Steve found him, bruised and bleeding all over Mrs. Harrington’s imported Oak flooring, that wasn't the worst of it.

“You don’t need stitches,” Steve says.

“You’re a good nurse,” Billy says, wincing at the forward burn of isopropyl against his ear lobe, “You’re hot. Anyone ever tell you that, Harrington.”

Steve grins, “Once or twice, maybe.”

“Real dime,” Billy says, working to meld their pulses together until they’re one.

Steve swallows a lump in his throat, everything he feels for this boy rushing to sit like water in his lungs. “Almost done,” Steve says. Wondering how someone could hurt this boy, this spot of gold. This vial of sunlight.

Billy winks at him, even though it’s starting to swell shut. “Thanks, doc,” He says.

“Don’t mention it,” Steve tells him, instead of run.

Instead you should’ve been a thousand miles away, by now.

Instead of drag me along.

It's ten minutes after Billy disappears into the bathroom before Steve ventures out with his first aid kit clutched in the hand Billy wouldn't let go of.

His fingers are still numb.

Max sees him and the aid box and immediately snorts at, incredulous. "I'm fine, Harrington, you can put your Barbie band-aids away."

Landmine. "Sure.”

“And your rain boots. You look–”

“Stupid, I know,” Steve shuffles, put on edge by the soft click of the T.V. remote in Max’s hand. “I just. Billy said that you had blood in your hair, and I just wanted to--"

"--It was Billy's," Max tells him, eyes trained carefully on the flickering screen in front of her.

Steve knows Max well enough now to get that she needs to be comforted, probably. She's still a kid, she's sixteen, but he also knows that the truth needs to be coaxed out of her, dripping like saliva past her rows and rows of sharp, vicious teeth. Just like Bill--

"Stop fidgeting like that. You look fucking stupid," Max tells him.

Like Steve said. A piranha. A sixteen-year-old hammerhead shark. The shower's still going so Steve frowns, tucking his first aid kit onto the coffee table. "It’s not just the rain boots?”

“No,” Max says, “It’s the whole outfit. And your big, dumb, worried eyes.”

“I’m sorry. I give a shit about you, and he said you were running away because he hit--"

"Yeah, I know what he said, and he didn't hit him. Not hard enough to do anything," Max snorts, again, mean. "Jesus Christ, he's so dramatic."

Steve nods, and the movement pulls her in. Brings her claws out.

"You’re dramatic, too. You were made for each other.”

“Okay.”

“Dumb and soft and earnest,” Max shakes her head, disappointed in them both. “Billy isn't dad. He thinks it's his fault. It isn't."

She says, like. Steve's going to lose his fuckin' mind and argue. "I know."

"He always thinks everything's his fault, but it's not. That's the Drama Bitch in him. He's a prima donna grade-a loser asshole but he's a good guy and he's my brother--"

"--Max, maybe we should--"

"I'm not moving back to California without any money," Max tells him, eyes on fire. "I'm not. I have a life here, I won’t starve to death here, so you can run in there and tell your stupid boyfriend that I'm not going until–"

"Right. Yeah, I," Steve swallows against the lump in his throat, "Max, you've gotta know that I'm not trying to make you leave."

Max snorts.

"I'm serious," Steve tells her, shuffling forward, "Why the fuck would I want that?”

“Won’t have to pay for all your dates, anymore,” Max tells him, and.

Steve. Didn’t know she knew about that. Didn’t know they were close enough to talk about boys, but he guesses. That’s probably a stupid thing to believe when Max ran away to be with her brother.

She sneers at him, "You're such a loser,” She says, disgusted by his presence.

Lights Steve on fire. "Why?”

"Because,” Max takes a deep, steadying breath, her grip so vice-like on the remote that Steve worries it will shatter. “Because you’re gonna let us stay here.”

“I thought you weren’t on board for California,” Steve demands, embarrassed that he’s angry at a sixteen year old girl for running away from home.

“God, you think you’re the only one who’s holding on to someone?” Max chuckles but it’s not a laugh. It’s mean and raw and bleeding.

Steve nods, reeling, drowning, sinking, flying, swimming, sailing--

"I'm hungry," Max says, and turns back to the T.V.

Steve loves Billy so he makes him something to eat, something heavy and full of starch to sop up all the bad shit inside of him. It works, for the time.

Max has three bowls, even though potatoes count as a vegetable.

They cram together afterward, three sardines on the couch clear of blood. Patched. They watch some stupid fucking cartoon thing until Max falls asleep and Billy can hardly keep his eyes open.

Steve tugs him close, says, "Let's go to bed, honey," And Billy comes, too tired to be irritating and awful. ‘S almost too bad.

When they fold onto the mattress Billy slots into all of Steve's empty spaces, a perfect fit of expanding ribs and tickling eyelashes. Steve pets over the knobs of Billy's spine. He focuses on the warm landing of Billy's forehead where it holds steady against his jaw, burning because of blood and split skin.

Steve tacks lips to Billy’s shorn skull, his forehead, his left ear, and tries to imagine death dropping his scythe on Neil Hargrove's cranium somewhere across this sleepy town. Wonders when everything became an eye for an eye.

"We'll be out of your hair tomorrow," Billy's lashes flutter against Steve's pulse, body tense and coiled and waiting.

Steve pets over his ribcage, says, "Don't be stupid," because. Might as well call it what it is. Billy tries to pull back, to tuck away, but Steve holds on tighter. Stubborn. "Why do you want to run from me so bad?"

"Not you," Billy says. Cramped and muffled against Steve's collarbone, "Hawkins."

"It'll miss you. So will Max," Steve says, petting over Billy's thigh, now, relishing the rough drag of boxer briefs against his fingertips, "Said she's not leaving."

"When?"

"Told me while you were cleaning up."

"What a surprise," Billy reports flatly, "Who gives a shit. She doesn't have a choice."

"Tell her that.”

"She's going. No matter what I’ve gotta do.”

“What if she fights you on it?”

“Then one of us will have blood on our feet, again."

Steve hums, fiddling with the hem of Billy's boxer briefs. Slipping his fingers under the lip. "You try and put her in that car and it won’t even be a fight. You'll be dead before sunset."

Billy snorts, rocking both of them. “She’s scrappy but I’ve got fifty pounds on her.”

“Sure, just muscle and good intentions.” Steve’s fingers tangle in the thatch of hair at Billy’s pelvis. It’s soft and curly, little blonde ringlets that smell like rain water.

Billy sighs, tilting back when Steve inches upupup his shaft. "Stop trying to get in my pants, Harrington."

"You have something I want," Steve tells him. It's easy to find Billy's cockhead, blooming with springtime mist. Steve smooths it with his thumb. He grins at the noise Billy makes, ducks to nibble at that cut jawbone. “You won’t be able to sleep if you don’t relax.”

"Shit," Billy says intelligently.

"Want you inside me. Want your fingers."

"Fuck you, I'm grieving,” Billy grumbles, but he cranes his neck. Makes room between his legs.

"I could take your mind off it for a little while,” Steve says. He untangles himself, shucking the covers and laying on his stomach next to Billy’s thighs. He smells like the earth, fresh and moist. Steve tugs at his boxers, mouth-watering when Billy’s cock nods and the popcorn ceiling.

“Steve,” Billy protests, choking on a moan when Steve swallows him down, teeth knotted in the feather down at Billy’s pelvis. "Baby, Max is in the next room."

Steve comes up for air, kissing the freckle at Billy’s tip. "She's asleep."

"You're such a whore,” Billy glares sharply, “Is this how it's gonna be every goddamn night?"

And.

Suddenly Steve's heart swells, pushing against the cavern of his ribcage. He must smile, must press love and lightning into Billy's forehead when Steve clamors to his knees and pets over the bruise there, so happy the bed's about to blast out from under them.

"Stop making that stupid face," Billy snorts, dabbing the saliva on Steve’s chin, "Lookin' at me like I'm gonna--"

"I love you," Steve says.

Billy shifts, his cheeks blooming pink, “Just sayin’ that because my cock is out.”

“Maybe,” Steve teases. Can't help it; every goddamn thing about himself. He's stupid, and happy, and so, so heartbroken. He licks at Billy’s cockhead, heart thumping elation through his limbs. "You're really gonna stay with me?"

Billy shrugs, fiddling with the stretched-out neckline of Steve's t-shirt. "I don't know where else we could go."

"California."

"Max said she's not going, right?" Billy mumbles, "And. You've made it pretty clear that you wouldn't either."

“I never said that.”

“Don’t have to say it, it’s in your voice?”

Billy’s talking in circles, feeding his insecurities because that’s what he does when he’s on the verge of something else.

“Oh yeah? What’s in my actions?” Steve slips down the mattress again and sucks Billy to the root, bobbing his head and opening his throat in earnest, licking and swallowing until Billy soft little noises splat against the walls like wads of bubblegum.

Billy groans, knotting his fingers in Steve’s hair.

His roots sing. “I’d go anywhere you asked me to,” Steve points out before Billy can speak. Sounds. Like swallowing rocks is his favorite thing. “The problem is you never ask me to.”

Billy shrugs.

“Ask me.”

“Steve–”

Steve pulls himself out of Billy’s hold and sucks him down again, swallowing. Only comes up for air when Billy starts writhing beneath him. “Say it.”

“I–”

“Say, ‘Steve, come home with me to California, I’ll teach you how to surf, we can live on the ocean–’”

“Costs a fuckin’ fortune to live on the waterline,” Billy stutters, mouth falling open with a groan when Steve spits on his cock. Works up a rhythm with the palm of his hand just so he can watch the way Billy’s stomach tugs at the waistband of Steve’s lended boxers.

He’s only a little worried that Max might hear them.

Not enough to stop, not when Billy’s throat opens bit by bit, little wrecked noises barely reaching Steve across the valley of air between them. Through the shutter of the blinds, Billy’s skin glows. Stardust and bushels of flowering lilac in the shape of fingers and fists, sprouting and withering along his neck and cheek and jawline, breathing and dying over and over and over again.

Billy cranes to watch him, lips raw and red and open, tongue lulling.

Steve cracks and splinters at the sight, at his wits end, at the height of all he’s ever felt–

“What?” Billy asks, chest heaving.

Steve climbs on top of him, swallowing the shock that flutters from between Billy’s lips. His cock presses into Steve’s ass, slick head trapped by Steve’s layer of encasing, rough cotton. It fits perfectly, just like the rest of him, like they were made for this. Each other. Finding solace and rhythm in the tattered edges of the night.

Steve sucks on Billy’s tongue, deepening the kiss. His thighs shake, his hips roll down, startling the air from Steve’s lungs. Or Billy’s. Both.

“Baby,” He says. Or Billy does, “Baby, I–”

Steve pulls back enough to see the tears clinging stubbornly to Billy’s lashes, drops of stardust stranded in bright blue skies. He wipes them away with his thumb, pressing their lips together in a chaste, sweet kiss.

Chokes on a thousand things. What he could’ve said, on all those other nights. What he isn’t saying now. What he’ll have to stumble over tomorrow so that things can get started on a solid foundation–

It all, just. Dies.

Steve rolls his hips, “I love you,” He says, breaking like waves where Billy’s skin is the shore. “Let me make love to you.”

Because it’s all that matters.

Uncertainty flashes, bright as lightning, across Billy’s face, and then it’s gone. “Okay,” He says, “Alright.”

–

“I lied,” Steve tells him, to distract from the places they’re stuck together, the swatches where they’re bruised and cut and bleeding, “I tried to run away, once. When I was seven.”

Billy hums, his cheek warm and sticky over Steve’s rib cage. “Did you hear what I said?” Steve asks, chuckling, “Not gonna fall asleep, are you?”

“Thought you wanted me to relax.”

“I do.”

“Well, I am,” Billy tells him, “Your pussy’s magic–”

“Don’t say pussy when I’m talking about running away from home, that’s gross.” Steve yelps, wiggling when Billy’s teeth close around his nipple and tug. “Ow, shithead, this is important–”

“What, mommy and daddy didn’t get you the yacht you asked for for christmas so you ran away from home for twenty minutes?” Billy snaps, but there’s no heat. No fire.

“Not exactly,” Steve shrugs, rustling Billy’s head back onto his chest. “My grandma had come to stay with us for a while. She was sick. Dying, actually, but I was too young to notice. She never looked sick, she was constant. Still cooked dinner for us. Still holy-rolled until I cleaned my room. She took care of me.”

Billy’s arm tightens around Steve’s waist. Subtle and constant, too.

“When she finally passed on, I just. Didn’t want to be with my parents anymore,” Steve swallows, nearly strangling himself on the lump in his throat, “Look. They never hurt me, Billy, not like–”

“--We don’t have to talk about this–”

“--I know I could never understand, but. When my grandma stayed with us I felt love. I wasn’t alone, anymore, she was my family. And after she was gone I couldn’t go back to the way shit had been before she came to us, you know? I couldn’t be alone in that empty fucking house anymore, I had to leave.”

“But you didn’t?” Bill asks.

Steve holds him tighter. “I didn’t.”

Billy twists, chin poking Steve in the ribs but it doesn’t matter, when their eyes meet. Steve pets over his forehead, his eyelashes, savoring the plush of his cupid's bow. Vibrant and alive. Free.

“Beautiful,” Steve says. A fact. A name, “I understand why you have to go.”

“I’m sorry,” Billy leans into Steve’s touch, seeking his warmth. “We all need to run away, sometimes.”

“I could come with you.”

“I can’t ask you to do that,” Billy says. He starts crying, soft as summer rain. Maybe he already was. Steve rubs at his cheeks, trying to catch them before they fall. “You’ve become the thing I run to, but–”

“--You don’t have to ask. It’s not some fuckin’ sacrifice, if you leave there’s nothing left. I don’t want to go home if you’re not there.” Steve says, and then waits, patiently re-counting the 297 freckles he knows form a village on Billy’s nose.

Billy thinks it over. Finally, he frowns. “So in this situation I’m like your grandma?”

Steve blinks, a laugh startled out of him, “What?”

“You said,” BIlly grumbles, brow furrowing, “You said that when she–”

“--I don’t want to fuck my grandma, that’s–”

“--God, you’re so annoying,” Billy rolls onto his back, jostling the mattress until all their blankets slither, ending tucked around him so Steve will freeze to death.

It’s so achingly usual. So soft.

“Baby,” Steve props himself on one below, chuckling when Billy rolls onto his side. Away. Steve pokes Billy’s shoulder, rocking him, “Hey, you goddamn brat, I was just—”

“--I didn’t mean that you want to fuck your grandma, you psycho, I meant. Like. You said that when she wasn’t home you couldn’t go back.”

Steve’s hand rests on the blanket between them. He feels like a naked, sparking bunch of wire. Thinks maybe he said too much, or didn’t say enough, and now Billy’s imagining himself as a stout Italian woman in a clementine shrug.

“She would’ve liked you,” Steve says finally. Billy peeks over his shoulder, scowling. Steve giggles at him, “It’s true!”

“She wouldn’t be disgusted that I’m a cocksucker?”

“No. She was a muff eater, when she was in her twenties,” Steve says casually, laughing when Billy spins and sits bolt upright next to him.

“Are you serious?”

“As the heart attack that killed my papa, who she never really loved,” Steve rights himself, shuffling until their legs are nestled together, until he can kiss and suck on Billy’s pulse.

“Stop that,” Billy says thinly.

“No.”

“You can’t just say that your dead lesbian grandma would like me.”

Steve licks at Billy’s earlobe, tasting blood and isopropyl, and the hiss of metal shears. “Why not?”

“Because,” Billy sighs, fingernails digging into Steve’s right and left kneecaps, “Because then I’ll want to stay with you forever.”

Steve pulls back, confused, “You don’t want to stay with me forever now?”

“You’re an idiot–”

“--Who loves you.”

“Such a dumbass–”

“--Who’s gonna work two extra jobs to get you and your sister to California,” Steve says. Hands topping Billy’s like stubborn barley thistle. Rooting him in place. “I’m gonna do it and you don’t even have to ask.”

Billy shakes his head.

Steve holds on tighter. “I’m serious. I’m gonna give you the world, even if it means we stay here for a while, until we can save up the money. Until it’s not dark out anymore, right?”

A hundred emotions struggle on Billy’s face, each one fighting for dominance. Finally, “Until daybreak?”

Steve nods. “Daylight.”

#harringrove #harringrove relay race #angst with a happy ending #hurt and comfort #listen #this was going to be something else entirely and then i ran out of time lol #more to come on that story soon!

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lesbiansdv · 28 days ago

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sdv bachelor(ette)s gender & orientation headcanons

yeah technically theyre all canon bi/pan but this is the truth in my heart <3 adding a readmore because im nice :)

Haley: cis. comphet lesbian, duhhh <33 good luck babe! she used to date Alex, but during that relationship she realized she didnt ACTUALLY feel as interested as she thought she should have. it wasnt until the farmer (if a woman) that she realized shes a lesbian.

Emily: pan but prefers girls. definitely something going on w her gender… i think shes genderfluid, mostly between woman and/or nonbinary identities

Abigail: BISEXUAL. huuuge bisexual. i feel like she’d be a demigirl or bigender (nb&f) or something, shes got some sort of nonbinary in her (me too girl)

Leah: total lesbian yall. proud too. definitely got a butchness to her. love her <33

Penny: shes cis, she THOUGHT she was straight and tries so so hard to suppress any sapphic thoughts but she does in fact like girls (and probably is aspec too). has lots of internalized homophobia and shes always wanted to be the perfect child, perfect teacher, someday the perfect wife and mother, etc and this freaks her out a bit because she worries it means shes “wrong” somehow. YOURE NOTTT PENNY ITS OK TO BE GAY!!! everyone thinks of Haley as Pelican Town’s #1 comphet lesbian but i bet Penny is struggling with this a lot as well, just in a different way. (didnt realize i had so many penny thoughts wow)

Maru: aroace!!! shed be open to a relationship but i think she’d mostly prefer qprs. though dating isnt entirely out of the question, its not a requirement or a big interest to her. probably nonbinary/agender as well, but gender doesnt matter that much to her (i dont think she gets any/much dysphoria)

Sam: PAN and prouddd lol. i could see him being trans or cis, i dont know as much about him though. he could have some nonbinaryism too as a treat <3

Sebastian: bi without a preference towards either, and hes a trans guy. sometimes i forget that this isnt canon 💀

Harvey: bisexual and a flustered MESS lmfao. he could be cis or trans. i think, as a doctor, him being trans would be pretty awesome 👍 it probably influenced his career choice as well, to better understand hrt and surgery and all. thats always a cool thing to look into :)

Elliott: this is a gay man. cant imagine him with a woman, sorry ladies. either cis or a trans man, either way i can feel the genderqueerness radiating off of him (ngl i thought he was a beautiful literary woman at first 💔💔)

Shane: i dont think he labels his sexuality. could be aroacespec, could be multisexual or monosexual, he doesnt know and doesnt care. if he gets a crush, then he has a crush, whatever. i dont think that happens often though. probably nonbinary too but hes got a job so he doesnt have time to think about that right now LMFAO

Alex: cis. gay man who had an experience much like Haley did. they thought they liked each other and dated for a while but that experience started their realizations that neither of them are actually straight lmfao. closeted mlm wlw friendship !!! i like to think it was also the male farmer that confirmed his gayness lol <3

#txt #feel free to disagree but these are by headcanons personally #alsoooo i am not perfectly fluent in every characters lore so if i missed something big dont judge 😊👍#sdv #sdv haley #sdv emily #sdv abigail #sdv leah #sdv penny #sdv maru #sdv shane #sdv alex #sdv sebastian #sdv sam #sdv harvey #sdv elliott #sdv headcanons #none of them are straight lmfao

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loonymooony · 4 months ago

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JWCT PROMO IMAGES BREAKDOWN WHAT WHAT

WARNING POSSIBLE SPOILERS!!!

also please only take me semi-seriously because I am not mentally ok and will not be until season 2 drops or at least until I can walk again

First order of business, these signs, it’s so random they would just drop random signs on us like like this so here’s my prediction/breakdown:

oke so it looks like these are all on the ship, so everything in the first episode

• Hmm lettuce not for crew use? THE CAMPERS ARE GONNA USE IT BCS THEY ARE THE EMBODIMENT OF “This sign cannot stop be because I can’t read!” • Oh? A live dino? Wrong. That dinosaur is gonna be dead af

• Do not feed the dinosaurs? Oops. Also this insinuates that there are professionals on board BUT I AM WILLING TO BET ALL MY LIFE SAVINGS (1/3 of a penny) THAT THERE ARE NO PROFESSIONALS ON BOARD AND THE WHOLE CREW FREAKS OUT WHEN THE DINOS ESCAPE

• Hmm it seems that this sign reads “Power must remain on at all times” yeah I don’t think that’s happening, idk why just have this gut feeling that some dinos might escape

• I’ve already yapped about this one but in summary: THAT LOOKS LIKE A VERY SUSPICIOUS KENJI, SHOULD WE REPORT IT? (I feel like Dora saying that)

My beloved waifu pookie cutie patootie Brooklynn throwback 🥰🥰 good to see that after everything, it’s still you. Also her hand? arm? is tied to to the control so either someone helped her or is forcing her to work or she can do that herself while Imm over here struggling to put a bracelet on myself 😭😭

GIRL BOSS BROOKLYNN THIS IS LITERALLY WHAT I WANT TO BE LIKE I ASPIRE TO BE LIKE HER GIRLBOSS BADDY QUEEN SLAY GIRL 🥰🥰🥰 (i love her sm guys)

Trying to piece the timeline for this: looks like it’s from after the atrociraptor attack but I could be VERY wrong since there doesn’t look like much doom and gloom happened in what I presume to be Darius’ cabin. Also she has *proper* lock picks in her mouth (look for once she’s well prepared and not using a bobby pin even though bobby pins r great no hate to them) It looks to me as if she’s in his cabin stealing some DPW documents that she either left in his cabin (doubt it) or that Darius already had due to his previous job. It doesn’t really look like a friendly visit or an “I miss you visit” it just seams pretty sketchy (sorry Dinostar nation)

DLN probably stands for “Dinosaur Liberation Now” AND OMG GUYS REMEMBER WHEN RAPTOR MASK WAS LIGHTING A FIRE (basically doing arson) in the trailer? COULD THIS HAVE BEEN IT? who am I kidding it was obviously him during that moment

These two shots have the same lighting and are probably together, HOW TF IS BROOKLYNN SUPPOSED TO SURVIVE THIS, IK DREAMWORKS SAID TWO MAIN CHARACTERS WOULD DIE BY THE ENF OF THE SEASON BUT THEY CANT KILL MY POOKIE OFF TWICE!! right?

All these scenes look like their from the same episode, maybe Brooklynn was trying to do something and got caught or she was being escorted to do something by her pet Red and whoever else is there

ALSO CAN WE TALK ABOUT THIS POSSIBLE DINOSTAR REJECTION SCENE 💔💔💔 DARIUS LOOKS SO SHOCKED AND SAD I ACTUALLY CANT I FEEL BALD FOR THE GREEN BEAN 😔😔 (im so sorry to the dinostar nation and it’s leader @livsmessydoodles)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ anygays I have reached the image limit so expect part 2 soon!!!

(@lezabeththetheodoraimposter)

#jurassic world chaos theory #jwct #brooklynn jwcc #brooklynn #darius bowman #kenji kon #image breakdown #pls october 17th come faster

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scarasimplysimping · 8 months ago

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All In

Part 1 (might be two parts idk)

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Summary: A bet is placed to see if you can get the Summa Cum Laude to fall in love with you. (Scaramouche x Reader) (College au)

Contains: Idk. So it's one of those love stories where there's a bet. Hu Tao and Childe are kind of assholes for the sake of this fic, I am SORRY. Reader is also kind of an ass. Ooc. Some plot holes because I don't go to college or drink or smoke. Just roll with it.

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

2,822 words 15,518 characters

What a stuck-up prick.

That's what you thought of him anyway. He was *the* Summa Cum Laude of your year. He was snobby, self-centered, friendless, and to top it all off, he just so happened to be your partner for your big thesis.

It was not by choice but he had no partner because people were afraid of him and you had no partner because well... people hated you. It wasn't a project that could be done individually either, lest you wanted to die before you graduate.

"He's such a bore." You complain to your friends on the lunch table, Hu Tao, Childe, and Xiao. "I tried to make plans with him, really. I asked if he was free, and you know what he said?" You slammed your hands on the table for dramatic effect.

Hu Tao leaned in closer, strands of her hair falling onto the table, and alarmingly close to Xiao's food, making him scowl as he moved his tray.

"He said," you began, putting up a silly impression of him with a snobby expression. "I don't need bottom feeders like you dragging down my work. I'll handle everything. Pay me if you want."

Childe snorted. Hu Tao doubled over in laughter, mainly because you're impression was so on point.

"God, what a freak." Hu Tao mused as she wiped her tears from her face, she never passed on the opportunity to talk shit about someone she didn't like. Childe agreed with her but he was partly not paying attention. He jabbed his fork into Xiao's food.

"Fucker." Xiao muttered under his breath.

Your silly clique was a ragtag bunch of misfits in their own ways. Hu Tao was your childhood friend who always had something vindictive to say or some storm to stir up. She lived for the drama.

Childe started tagging along around highschool. He was a charming, silver-tongued ginger ball of sunshine, he started developing a negative reputation over time as as somewhat of a satyr, though.

Xiao was above all the petty and immature antics whichever one of you had the gall to cook up. In all honesty, he was only there because his older brother, Zhongli had asked Childe to help him settle in to the college life. Childe owed the man a favor so he dragged the poor emo wherever you guys went and you kind of just got used to his company.

Then there was you, there was one thing that set you far apart from them all.

Money.

They were filthy rich and you, an independent college student, had not a penny to your name after you decided to up and leave your family to follow Hu Tao to college. You didn't really have to work though, your friends pretty much covered most of your college expense as casually as a friend would by you lunch.

"I know I can't really help him, I mean, my grades are dogshit right now but like I don't know how to pay him either," You said, burying your face into your palms.

Childe scoffed. "I don't even think he means it. Plus, it's nothing to worry about. We've got you covered if that greedy little nerd actually demands shit from you."

"Yeah, just let him do everything by himself," He continued "Watch him or something, in case your professor wants updates.."

A small smirk formed upon his lips. "I bet he's not that hard to watch anyway."

You playfully punched him on the shoulder "Gross!"

"You gotta admit he is kinda cute," Hu Tao chided in. "Right, Xiao?"

Xiao shrugged, far too focused on actually having lunch.

Childe snaked an arm over you. "Tell you what, (Y/N). If you can somehow bed the prudish bastard before the end of this semester, I'll fork over some money for this month's rent."

"Hu Tao pays rent."

"I'll fork over some money for anything you want."

"Hmm... I want VIP tickets to La Signora's concert."

"Done~"

"Oh my archons! Like actually?" Hu Tao couldn't tell if you both were serious. "(Y/N), your charm is above average but I don't even know if you can pull this one off."

You roll your eyes." Have faith in me. I bet he's easy."

Hu Tao leans back thoughtfully, a mischievous smirk playing on her face. "Alright, (Y/N). If you manage to pull this off I'll give you a grand.

You gape at her. "Seriously?

"Absolutely."

You know were only entertaining the idea because they had no actual faith you'd pull it off, but to you. This was easy money.

You slowly turn to the brooding emo on the table. "What about you, Xiao?"

His eyes narrowed at you. "What about me?"

"You gonna offer anything?"

He scoffs, groaning internally and being the only one with a moral compass. "Only an asshole would find bets such as these any type of fun."

Childe flicks his wrist dismissevly. "We are assholes."

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

It was hard enough convincing Scaramouche to work on the project and your (and Hu Tao's) place but now you had to deal with the emanating silence from you both. You've barely ever talked to him but the tension in your room could be cut with a knife, or maybe that was just your imagination.

He was sitting cross legged on your bed, typing away at his laptop with several papers surrounding him. You were sat across from him in the same position, nursing a cigarette in between your fingers.

"Do you want something to eat?" You finally break the silence.

He doesn't look up from the screen as he responds. "What do you have?"

You look to the ceiling, trying to recall what you and Hu Tao had last shoved into the fridge. "Uh... Pesto... Pizza... Dumplings. Probably some leftover vegetables."

"Bring me them all." Talk about shame.

"Alright." You say, putting out the cigarette on your nightstand. You couldn't help but notice the tiny scowl on Scaramouche's face as he glanced at the ashtray.

You come back balancing a bowl of pesto, a bowl of dumplings, and a bowl of salad on a box of pizza. Scaramouche pats on the side of your bed, indicating for you to drop the offerings there.

You light another cigarette as you take your previous seat in front of him.

"The weather is pretty nice today.." A sad attempt at conversation on your end.

Silence

"So... Childe's hosting a party tomorrow night, would you like to come?" You try once more.

Scaramouche still doesn't say anything, he doesn't even look up from the screen.

You blow a puff of smoke on his face. He coughs a bit before glaring at you with cold judging eyes. At least he was actually looking at you now. "I have no time to indulge in that crap."

"You have plenty of time. That thesis isn't due for another month."

"Well not exactly, since I'll be doing the work for both of us."

"Do you have a problem with me?"

"I have a problem with people like you." He glowers.

"People like me?" You raise your eyebrows.

"People who just have everything spoon fed to them by luck or by birthright and take that as a reason to slack off for the rest of their life since everything just magically works out for them." Scaramouche wasn't wrong, you really fucked around and never found out but still, what right did he have to judge you?

"Didn't know you knew me so well." You say, blowing out another puff of smoke but this time it's to the side.

Scaramouche opens his mouth to respond, then closes it once more. You had a point. It was hypocritical of him to listen to judge you based on gossip.

Finally, he speaks after a few minutes of silence.

"I was out of line." It's an apology although he doesn't outright apologize.

"Yeah." You decide to take advantage of his momentary guilt as you inquire about what he's working on. "So, do you mind telling me what you're doing?"

"Well, I'm looking online for research papers related to the topic were studying. I'm taking snippets I find interesting and I'll save them for later to expand on them in our thesis."

Scaramouche speaks a bit more but you're hardly listening. You take this time to really observe his physical appearance. Hu Tao was right; the man was cute. His eyes, his mouth, his lips. If you took a meat cleaver to the center of his skull, you'd have matching halves.

Even his hair looked softer than unicorn fur.

"(Y/N)?" He snaps you out, a displeased expression creeps upon his face upon noticing that you aren't even paying attention.

"Your hair looks softer than unicorn fur," you blurt out.

His eyes widen slightly, and you could've sworn he turned a shade pink before he feigned a disgusted look to save his dignity. "What the hell?"

You caught on immediately. There it was. Scaramouche had a weakness. The Summa Cum Laude, the bridge troll with a big brain and purple hair (as Hu Tao once described him) is someone who gets easily flustered .

"You're kind of cute." You push on.

"Shut the fuck up." His head lowers, he dares not look into your eyes.

"Come to Childe's party with me?" You ask once more.

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Scaramouche hated you. He hated your face and your voice and your personality. He hated every single atom you were made up of, but most of all he hated the way you were able to persuade him to come to this stupid party. And for what? Just because you were the first person to ever call him cute? He'd curse you and all your descendants to come.

Childe's party was just a gathering of drunks and trouble makers. His house was practically a mansion that could fit 60% of the university's student population.

He hated the blaring lights and unbelievably loud, repetitive, and distasteful music.

"I hate this!" He has to shout for you to hear.

"I know!"

"I'm going home!"

"You can't! You're my ride home!"

"We walked here, dumbass!" Scaramouche wanted to leave you truly he did but something, wasn't letting him. His moral compass or his growing fondness of you?

Childe finds you, placing an arm around your shoulder. "Hey!" He hands you a shot glass which you graciously accept and down in a couple of seconds, much to Scaramouche's dismay.

Childe pays no attention to your companion until he does a double take and realize it's Scaramouche.

"Holy shit! Is that Scara!?" Childe grins hazily. He was drunk drunk.

Scaramouche does not respond. He is frowning while Childe handed you half a bottle of gin.

You drink it within a couple minutes as you chat with Childe.

Scaramouche stands there, awkward, cranky, and out of place as the only person he's aquatinted with in this party is getting absolutely inebriated.

At some point you don't know when or from where but you get your hands on another shot glass.

"You're not drinking that," Scaramouche states firmly.

"I am." You bring the cup to your lips but Scaramouche is faster, he snatches it from you and lets it fall to the ground.

"What gives!?"

"I'm not carrying your drunk ass home just because you drank away the capability to walk!" He shouts at you.

People are staring now. Is it because of the commotion or because Scaramouche was the last person anyone would expect to see at a party?

Scaramouche didn't like the staring or the attention. "I'm going fucking home." He says, grabbing your wrist and pulling you past the crowd. "So are you."

Childe is left there, impressed. He takes out his cellphone.

To: Hu Tao

She's actually gonna pull it off. Wtf

From: Childe

You stumble and trip as Scaramouche drags you through the night. It was a miracle you could keep up. (It wasn't, he slowed his pace on purpose to match yours but it still wasn't slow enough for your drunken ass.)

"Scara, slow dooown~"

He ignores you until he feels you slip from his grasp, landing with a thud. "What the fuck is wrong with you!? Do you not have the smarts to walk!?" The boy scolds.

You decide to rest your knees a bit as you stay on the ground.

You hear him sigh sharply before crouching in front of you. "Get on."

"What? Like piggyback style?"

"Yes, damnit just get on." His face wasn't facing you and it was dark. Scaramouche was eternally grateful to the archons that you couldn't see the way his ears reddened.

He carries you like that until you're at the front door of your place. Scaramouche gently drops you off. Miraculously not panting. (He wasn't that athletic.)

"Can I trust you enough to tuck yourself in?" The boy asks, his tone was calm this time.

You nod in response.

"Alright." Scaramouche turns his heel to leave.

"Scaramouche." You call out.

He turns back to you, a little too quickly.

You try to take a step towards him except you "accidentally" trip on air and crash onto his chest. He barely moves an inch but his hands instinctively wrap around you. You can see the exact moment he scrunches his nose as well as the moment before that where his cheeks flush.

You'll blame this on alcohol later. You'll also blame alcohol for when you pulled his collar to place a quick peck on his lips.

This was the night Scaramouche nearly passed away.

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

Scara paced around his room. What the fuck was that? Why the fuck would you do that? His heart still raced as fast as it did when you kissed him.

He replayed the kiss over and over in his mind. Why? Just why? He mussed his hair in frustration as he plopped himself on the bed. If Scaramouche focused enough, he could still feel their lips on his, even if it was just for a fleeting moment.

Why had a drunken asshole decided to take his first kiss? Why was he reacting so weirdly?

And why did he just tuck tail speed walk away right after it happened without saying shit about it?

(Y/N) will probably tell their friends. They'll gossip and laugh at how the smartest person in their program was turned into a blushing, sputtering mess at the mere kiss of some drunk. Some overly confident, obnoxious, attractive drunk who's lips were soft as velvet.

The thought has him reeling. Rolling to the side, Scaramouche pulled a pillow over his head and groaned into it.

"I'm done guessing. What's wrong with you?" His inner monologue was broken by his cyan haired roommate.

"Nothing. Fuck off, Dottore." His words still muffled by the pillow.

"All your ceaseless brooding is keeping me distracted. I suggest you stop whining if you don't want me to give you more reasons to whine."

Silence.

That came out wrong, but it got Scaramouche to shut up so who would complain?

(⁠人⁠ ⁠•͈⁠ᴗ⁠•͈⁠)

It was a crush. That's what Dottore had said to him. It made jackshit sense though. Why would he like you? You were just someone he perceived as a slacker. It's possibly because you were the only one who ever showed interest in him. He'll probably get over it when he finds someone else to adore, but he couldn't.

Scaramouche was once again working on the thesis, on your bed. He didn't bring up the kiss. Maybe you'd forgotten about it? A small part of him hoped that you didn't though.

Finally, he decides to speak up. "I demand compensation."

You shoot him a confused look.

"What? Don't you remember?" Scaramouche scowls.

"You kissed me..."

"Did I?" You feign innocence.

"Do not make me repeat myself." He orders. "That was my first kiss. I demand some kind of compensation." His cheeks were heating up as it became harder and harder for him to look you in the eyes.

"Oh?" You bring your index finger below your lips in an expression of mock thoughtfulness.

Scaramouche's scowl deepens at your mocking finger below your lips. "Do not toy with me," he warns. "You took something and I want fair repayment."

You chuckle, enjoying his ruffled feathers. " And what is a first kiss worth these days?" Leaning back on your hands, you look him over appraisingly. "I'm not convinced it was really your first. You seemed to know what you were doing..."

His cheeks redden as he scrunches his nose at your audacity. "You're insufferable."

"And yet you enjoyed kissing me." You smirk. "Perhaps you even want more?"

Scaramouche's embarrassment only grows at your bold insinuation. "You presume too much, fool," he bites back, though his resolve seems weakened.

You shrug. "Suit yourself. I was just about to offer a date."

He narrows his eyes at you, as if trying to ascertain if this is some sort of trick. "A date?"

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi

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strqyr · 8 months ago

Note

I think a big thing with Cinder and Mercury in regards to power is how while it does help them in at some point in their life it never actually helped them get what they want and now they are stuck in a place where with Cinder she is constantly chasing after power but with Mercury he is left without anything really so he chooses to stay in a position where he is most comfortable even if that position is actually incredibly uncomfortable it feels a lot safer than the unknown.

Side note I feel Mercury is actually a pretty good depiction of depression in the show in ways depression isn't usually showcased in media like I feel there are a lot of little things that all add to a character that has been pretty depressed for a long time

yeah, mercury's situation actually explains it perfectly: marcus stole his semblance and told him he'd get it back when he got strong -> mercury got strong, but never got his semblance back.

part of him was stolen and there's no clear way for him to get it back, so now he's aimless, sticking with what he knows best, telling himself he's exactly where he's meant to be, but where he is isn't good for him and like you said, it isn't exactly a position he's comfortable in.

and it's. mercury's already been through what i think cinder is going to go through. marcus made a promise that mercury would get his stolen semblance back, but didn't keep it; salem promised cinder power but so far hasn't kept her end of the bargain, and even when she made moves to allow cinder to go after the winter maiden, she sent cinder to the last place penny would be in while sending the hound directly to her. if this parallel is intentional, then i'd bet that when cinder fulfills her end of the bargain—bringing the crown to salem—, she'll quickly learn that her usefulness to salem has run its course, and salem is under no need to help her steal the other maiden powers further.

the only difference between mercury and cinder in this regard is that mercury is the one whose power was stolen, while cinder is the one doing the stealing—which would be an interesting point of conversation between the two, since i don't think cinder knows about mercury's semblance, and man. if cinder has to sneak into vacuo against salem's orders, that'd probably be enough for mercury to connect some threads to his own past, and how salem, just like his father, has no intentions of actually following through with her promise to cinder.

#rwby #mercury black #cinder fall #anon #ask.strqyr

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fangirlingfromdownunder · 7 months ago

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A Sweet Mishap - Chapter 7

Pairing - Jensen Ackles x Reader

A/N: I just want to start by thanking everyone for all the love on this story so far. Here's the next chapter, I hope you enjoy. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist.

A Sweet Mishap Masterlist | Main Masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The days leading up to Christmas pass in a blur. I work almost constantly either in the cafe or at home helping Stella with Wedding plans. My contact with Jensen falls back to sporadic texts during lunch breaks. It feels impossible to build any connection with so little contact, but he’s been so understanding, claiming he’s also busy now that he’s home.

When I finally flip the sign on the door to ‘closed’ at six o’clock on Christmas Eve I’m utterly exhausted. I check my phone on the walk back to my apartment.

Hey Darlin’, About to get on the road. It’s a long trip, if you’re not too tired after work, I’d love to chat

I pass a packed restaurant and glance through the large windows at the couples and families sharing a lovely pre-Christmas meal. Knowing I’m going back to an empty apartment, the loneliness wins out and I decide to call him.

“Hey, Darlin’.”

“I knew that would sound so much better in your Texan drawl.”

“Sorry ‘bout that. It tends to come out more when I’m at home.”

“Don’t apologise. How’s the drive?”

“Been on the road ‘bout an hour and a half, still got two to go. Been a little lonely so far, but it just got a little better. How long you free for?”

“Three and a half hours? That’s not really a long trip…But I’m almost home now so I guess I can keep you company for a while.”

“In a car by myself on my way to see my family…yeah, it’s a long trip.”

“I guess I can understand that. I bet there are a few thoughts going around your head at the moment. I know I’d be spiraling…”

“I don’t know about spiraling…But yeah…My sister’s bringing her husband, as expected and my brother’s bringing his latest flame, so I’ll be the awkward seventh wheel turning up alone. Can’t wait for Mom’s twenty questions about when I’m finally gonna settle down. It’s not enough to just be famous, she wants grandkids…”

“That actually makes me feel better about spending Christmas alone.”

“Sorry…My family’s great and I’m glad I won’t be alone. I shouldn’t complain.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it. Vent away. Plus, we haven’t really had a chance to get to know each other, and I’ve already learnt a few more things about you. Tell me more.”

“Well, it might give you a little more context if I tell you I’m the middle child. Wait. You’re not taking notes, are you? Gonna sell my sad story to some journalist for a pretty penny?”

As I listen, I put a tray of frozen butter chicken and rice in the microwave to cook before kicking off my shoes and collapsing on the couch. “They’d pay for that? Maybe I should. Pay off some student debt while I’m at it, or maybe just something that’s not ramen and frozen dinners.”

“Don’t tell me that’s gonna be your Christmas dinner.”

“You get used to it. The frozen meals are getting better. Roast beef, shepherd's pie, al la Chef Ramsay.”

“Gordon Ramsay sells frozen meals?”

“Yep.”

“I’m still taking you out for a proper meal sometime. No, you know what. I’m gonna send you some money. Go out for a proper Christmas dinner, on me. Please.”

“And sit amongst all the happy couples and families like the loner I am. No thanks.”

“At least buy yourself something nicer to eat alone then?”

“Don’t worry, Nick’ll cook something. Stella won’t let me wallow here alone.”

“Good. Buy yourself something nice then. Treat yourself to a new dress or jewelry or…”

“Jensen, stop. I’m not taking your money, okay? I’m not a gold digger. I’ll stumble through on my own. I always have. Plus, I’m the one that owes you a shirt.”

“You’re eating ramen and frozen meals and you want to replace a shirt that cost more than your monthly salary? Forget it.”

“You shirt cost-Wait! Are you trying to figure out how poor I am?”

“We all start somewhere, Darlin’. When I first moved out to LA I had nothing. I was mucking out horse stables to get from one audition to the next.”

“Yeah, but I bet you did that right out of high school…not after taking a gap year to follow around a dropkick and then trying to get your life back on track after being cheated on, only to fall for the same shit again with a different guy. Thus putting your study and life on hold again. Only to then find yourself quickly approaching your 30th birthday with nothing to show for it…”

“Wait…Wait. I’m pulling over. I can’t process that while driving.”

“Sorry, no. Keep driving. We will talk about it some other time…or not at all.” You hang your head and mentally chastise yourself for divulging so much information at once. You blame the loneliness and exhaustion.

“I should get gas anyway. Just hang on, Darlin’.” I sigh and pull out my tight ponytail so I can run my hands through my greasy hair. “Alright. I’m parked now. Let’s talk. Cause yeah, you’re right, I did go straight out of high school. But I wanna hear more about these dropkicks.”

“There’s nothing to tell. It’s my fault really. I should’ve been better, stronger.”

“Hey, hey, no. Don’t blame yourself. Did they? Did they blame you? Tell you it was your fault?”

“Don’t all guys? But they didn’t have to…If I had satisfied them they wouldn’t have brought other women into our bed…” I sigh, “Who am I kidding? Why are you still talking to me? I could never satisfy the likes of you. You’ve probably been with all sorts of supermodels and actresses…”

“Y/N. Darlin’. That is not on you. And no, not all guys. Those boys didn’t deserve you. You deserve a real man who would treat you right. Also, never compare yourself to supermodels or other actresses. ‘Cause yeah, maybe I have slept around a bit, but where the fuck are they now? They wouldn’t spend hours talking me through a road trip. You’ve satisfied me more than anyone else ever has, in just the last few days.”

“Jensen…You know how that sounds right?”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m a gentleman. I promise, there’s been no hand-to-dick contact to thoughts of you.”

“That’s reassuring. Same here, just so you know…no hand-to-…You know what I mean.”

His low chuckle reverberates through the phone, warming me and alleviating a little of my anxiety. “Yeah. I know what you mean. So, uh, back to the point…Who are these guys that I need to ruin?”

“They’re nobody. I don’t want to talk about them anymore. Can we go back to your problems? They’re less…they’re just less.”

“Thanks?”

“You know what I mean!” Feeling a little better, I drag myself up and bring the now-cooled dinner from the microwave back to the couch. “Middle child problems are less heavy than a string of douchebag exes.”

“At least we can agree they’re douchebags.”

“Jensen!” I chastise.

He chuckles and then sighs. “Let me actually get gas and snacks and get back on the road. Then you can hear more of my life story, seeing as you just divulged a big chunk of yours, which we will talk about more in the future by the way. I won’t force you to dwell on it tonight, but I want to know all about you. I know there’s more interesting stories there.”

I eat while the line is silent. Part of me feels like a fool for sharing the story of my exes with Jensen, even if it was only one tiny part.

When Jensen finally comes back to the phone we continue talking until he pulls into Richardson. He shares stories about himself and his siblings growing up and his plans for Christmas, which he doubts will be white, considering the mild temperatures in Texas. I enjoy getting to know him more intimately and as a person, more than just his career. But he also tells me all about his passion for music and how it’s similar to his passion for acting. He tries to get me to open up more but reluctantly accepts when I say I’m tired and more interested in hearing his stories. Undeterred, chills run down my spine when he says, “Someday, Darlin’. Someday you’re gonna return the favour. I’m gonna know everything there is to know about you.” He reluctantly cuts the night short when he pulls into his parent’s driveway. “Thanks for the company, Darlin’. Merry Christmas Eve.” I argue that Christmas Eve is still three hours away, but wish him a Merry Christmas anyway before the line goes silent.

As I stare at my cracked home screen I decide to come up with a nickname for him. If he’s going to insist on melting my heart with that delicious, deep, drawl, “Darlin’”, then I intend to come up with something that causes a similar effect.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Taglist: @stoneyggirl2 @hobby27, @n-o-p-e-never

#jensen ackles imagine #jensen ackles fic #jensen ackles x y/n #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic

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asordinaryppl · 3 days ago

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A3! Backstage Story Translation - Sakyo Furuichi SR: My performance memories ~ Sakyo ~ - Part 1

yin yang midnight is mankai company's fifth mixed troupe play! you can find a translation of its event story on yaycupcake

also proofread by myuntachis <3

Sakyo: …

Citron: We have come to buy sweets!

Azuma: Fufu, nice to see you here.

Guy: I apologize for interrupting you while you’re working.

Hisoka: … Welcome.

[Flashback starts]

Citron: I heard from Sakuya that he handed out cookies with Homare and the others during their screening party!

Citron: We’ll hand out cookies too!

Sakyo: Those cookies came from Arisugawa’s own money. We can’t have our earnings decrease like that.

Azuma: How about we pay for them with our own money too, then?

Sakyo: No. You’ll probably pick out something way too expensive.

Citron: Do you not want to express your gratitude for our audience, Sakyo!?

Sakyo: That’s not it. But it ain’t like handing out sweets is in our event details.

Sakyo: If we start doin’ this everywhere, we’re gonna have to consider the audience that only attends specific events, and blah blah blah…

Guy: Would there be no issue if the sweets were cheap?

Sakyo: That’s not the problem here…

Citron: There is no problem, then! Japan has many cheap and delicious sweets!

[Flashback ends]

Sakyo: … I had pretty much guessed this would be where we’d end up, but you really just took us to a penny candy store.

Sakyo: Are you working part-time here again, Mikage?

Hisoka: … Only for today. The owners said it’s their grandson’s birthday.

Citron: All the sweets look delicious~ What would you recommend?

Hisoka: This one’s a new arrival. The best-selling one is over here…

Sakyo: … You sure know your stuff.

Guy: I think it would be best to leave the choice to Furuichi, our lead actor.

Sakyo: Lemme see…

Sakyo: ——

Sakyo: … Are those toy omikuji?

Hisoka: Yeah, but… Those aren't sweets.

Azuma: Omikuji, hm? Oh, that reminds me… Sakyo-kun, your name…

Sakyo: Yeah. I think I’ve got an idea for what sweets to hand out now.

Sakyo: I’m Sakyo Furuichi from the Autumn Troupe. I played the lead.

Citron: I’m Citron from the Spring Troupe! Thank you for coming today~

Azuma: I’m Azuma Yukishiro from the Winter Troupe. Did you enjoy our fifth mixed play, Yin Yang Midnight?

Guy: Also from the Winter Troupe, I am Guy. Thank you for your attendance.

Citron: … I’m feeling some kind of deshuffle.

Azuma: Deshuffle?

Sakyo: Déjà vu, I bet. At least learn katakana properly already.

Guy: This reminds me, this line-up is the same as the one for Furuichi’s birthday event some time ago.

Azuma: Fufu, that just goes to show how close we are.

Guy: You must be right.

Citron: Absolutely!

Sakyo: … Well, I’ve got no qualms about that.

Citron: Did you hear that, everyone!? Sakyo is being dere for once!

Audience A: Sakyo-san being dere… So precious…!

Audience B: Eeek!! So cute!

Sakyo: … Let’s get this talk show on the road.

Sakyo: We actually prepared some souvenirs for you today.

Audience C: Souvenirs!? I wonder what…!

Sakyo: When we learned that Arisugawa’s group had done so, we decided we’ll hand out sweets too.

Citron: Sakyo chose the sweets!

Sakyo: I chose the Good Luck Omikuji rice crackers.

Azuma: As their name suggests, these rice crackers have a fortune slip inside.

Sakyo: … I’m sorry for bein’ so cheap.

Sakyo: Some of you may already know this, but my father chose my name by drawing an omikuji.

Sakyo: Whenever I watch this performance, I’m reminded of him and the invisible bond we share through my name.

Sakyo: That’s why I’d like everyone here to take one home as a memento of the bond you share with us.

Citron: Ohhh, everyone looks happy!

Sakyo: I take it that you like that. I’m glad.

Azuma: How about we try it too, then?

Citron: Nice! I’ll draw More Luck for sure!

Sakyo: There ain’t no such fortune.

Guy: Choose whichever you like, Furuichi.

Everyone: One, two…

part 1 | part 2

#a3!#translation #a3! translation #sakyo furuichi #citron #azuma yukishiro #guy nishiki

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justsomeonewithdreams · 1 year ago

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More to know pt1

I didn't have enough space so I made a very short part two

Pairing Jake Seresin x Reader

Summary: Where the dagger squad finds out that Hangman didn't tell them everything about him

The Hard Deck is full of pilots when the dagger squad arrives, Hangman and Phoenix go to the counter to order some drinks as the others make their way to a pool table. Rooster is listening to Fanboy explaining him his day and how it all went wrong, but his attention got completely elsewhere as a woman caught his attention by entering the bar. That's when Phoenix comes back waiting for Hangman and the other beers with them. "Oh Rooster, seriously, I'm not even back with the drinks that you already found the woman you want in your bed, not classy man, we're supposed to hang out as a team tonight". Rooster chuckles softly, "When nature calls Phoenix, who am I to disagree?", she laughs too. "Okay, Casanova, if you're that good of a match with her then go talk to her." a grin makes its way to her face andRooster would never back down from a challenge, so he takes his courage and go over there to talk to the girl, leaning against the pillar she's next to and talking into her ear making his breath crash onto her neck. That's all the squad can see and hear as they are not that far but the music in the bar is to loud. The only thing they can see is how the girl smiles at him before pusing him lightly away from her, that's when he comes back to the squad's pool table with now Hangman back, "So how did it go man, what did she say?" Fanboy starts to ask, "She said that I wasn't her type and that she had better things to do tonight.". The squad laughs lightly, but Coyote remarks something, "Hey, what are you loooking at brother?" he asks elbowing playfully Jake attracting the attention of the others. "I'm pretty sure I can go there flirt with her and have her number" is all that Jake say, Rooster with a hit in his pride his ready to take the bet, "How yeah how much are you sure? Fifty?", "Deal" Jake responds shaking hands with him. He puts his beer away on the table and go talk to the girl, she's still in her flight suit like they all are, he takes the same place has rooster leaning against the pillar, all the eyes of the squad his on them and suprisingly, he hangs, it already has been five minutes that they are tzlking and she didn't make him leave yet. As if their eyes couldn't be wider, Jake takes her by the hips making her crash into his chest as they kiss, it's a kiss full of emotion, as questionning looks make their way across the squad Penny comes to ask them something and look where they all are. "Oh you met Y/N Mirage Y/L/N" she say as if it's the most rational thing to say, "Wait thi woman there is the famous Mirage!" Phoenix exclaims, "How did he do it?" Rooster ask to them, Penny laughs litely before answering, "You do know that Jake and Y/N are married right?", everyone's mouth drop to the ground, "Wait Hangman is married and with the famous Mirage!" Fanboy exclaims, "Yeah, it's gonna make five years in october." Penny answers still laughing at the fact they didn't know, "But we never saw him wearing a ring." Rooster says, "It's on their dogtags, you know just in case, I think they never really scream it on the roof not wanting to be compared to the other constantly, she was on another mission but now they can go back to be station together" Penny say sweetly smiling at Jake and Y/N who are coming back to their pool table.

#jake seresin x reader #dagger squad #top gun maverick #top gun hangman #top gun imagine #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x reader #jake hangman x you

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rippeanuts1950-2000 · 5 months ago

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i hate u, i love u

Prev|Next

Chapter 2)

“YOU DID WHAT!?”

Laney winces at how loud Konnie is shouting. “I made a bet with Corey.” She repeats. It’s just her and Konnie at the lunch table as Kim is in the science labs checking her experiment with Carrie, and Larry just doesn’t have this lunch period. “Okay, but why?” Konnie stresses as she picks up her grilled cheese sandwich from her lunch tray. “If you guys win the battle of the bands, he leaves me alone.” Laney explains with a shrug as she digs around in her backpack for her lunch box. She finally finds it and pulls out a bag of chips. “But if we lose?” Laney deflates a little. “I have to rejoin Grojband for a month and if I enjoy being a part of the band again, I have to consider staying permanently.” She tacks on.

Konnie shakes her head. “Well this gives us more of a reason to win. But seriously, why did you think this was a good idea? You’re literally the brain cell of The Newmans, that’s why you’re our manager.” She points out. Laney opens her mouth to answer her but finds that she doesn’t know what to say. Like she knows the main reasons why she said yes, but in all honesty she paid attention to the pros instead of the cons. Why did that happen? Laney usually goes for the cons first instead of the pros.

“I-I don’t know. I guess I wasn’t thinking about what would happen if The Newmans lost. You guys wouldn’t leave me if I had to go back to Grojband, right?” The bag of chips Laney has been holding pops open and chip crumbs fall onto Konnie’s lunch tray. Fortunately the other girl doesn’t seem to care however and just organizes them into a little pile on her tray while she answers Laney’s question. “Of course not, Penny Lane. You’ve become an important part of our group since you’ve started hanging out with us. Even before you became our manager, you were important to the team.” Konnie assures her, using the nickname that the band gave to Laney when she first started hanging out with them to further prove her point.

Laney takes a deep breath, silently reminding herself to breathe evenly so that she doesn’t work herself into a panic attack. Though even if she did work herself into a panic attack, she’d be okay because she’s hanging with Konnie right now and Konnie knows how to calm her down the best. “Thanks Konnie.” Laney says, feeling a bit more assured. Konnie nods. “Girl, you know I always got your back.” As sweet as the sentiment is, it makes Laney laugh afterwards because Konnie is sprinkling chip crumbs from her plate into her mouth. Though Laney would probably do the same. “Hey, do you have work today?” Konnie asks once she’s swallowed some water.

“Yep, it’s gonna be a long shift too so I’ll be doing homework there.” Laney says with a sigh. “Well, me and the others are gonna stop by and visit you. We could do homework together if the shop’s not too busy.” Konnie suggests, making Laney smile even more. “Yeah, that sounds good. You guys ARE always a great buffer for Corey.” She says, popping some chips in her mouth. “Oh and let me know if they need to hire more people because I will try to get hired to keep you company.” Konnie adds, finishing off the grilled cheese. “You don’t have to do that but I’ll keep you posted.” Laney says with a laugh.

Out of all the Newmans, Laney was the closest to Konnie. After the big blow up between her and Grojband, which had happened at school with an audience of no less than thirty, Laney had run off to cry in a janitor's closet. Konnie was there when the blow up had happened so she chased after Laney and comforted her. The rest is pretty much history, with Laney being added into the Newman’s crew as their manager that week at lunch. Being as close as she is to Konnie also meant that she knew a lot more about Konnie than most people. Like her secret boyfriend.

“How are you and Kon doing by the way? He hasn't sent me cryptic emails on his burner account asking for date ideas in a while.” Laney asks, causing Konnie to blush. “Oh we’re good. Coming up on that one year, so he’s been trying to prove that he can plan the perfect date without your help.” She says, her eyes practically morphing into hearts. Kon was the only member of Grojband that Laney had a good relationship with to this day, so she very much approved of the relationship between Konnie and Kon. “Well as long as he's treating you well, I have no complaints.” Laney says with a grin and a shrug. She pulled out the last of the food in her lunch box.

“Want my cheese stick?”

*****

You know what sucks?

Writing lyrics and using your own inspiration instead of your sister’s. But Corey knows it must be done if he wants to get his thoughts out. This of course, means that he has to write yet another song about Laney that he’ll never perform. But getting the words out isn’t as easy as it sounds, no, no, no. If anything, he’s having more trouble than usual, what with the bet that’s gonna put Laney back in his life for a month, the fact that the Newmans are currently in his dad’s shop and have been here for the past two hours, oh and that shiny necklace in the display shelf Corey is writing on isn’t helping much either.

He should have known the Ewmans were coming when Lanes asked his dad if her friends could come to the shop and do homework with her. His dad said, yes, of course because Laney is his favorite employee and apparently she gets her work done or something. Which sucks because when Corey asks his dad if Kin and Kon can come hang out with him in the shop, he’s told “No, Corey, finish pricing the rare books section and organizing it by price.” To which Corey would like to say that it’s not his fault that they never get anything cool at the pawn shop, like instruments or boxes of mannequin heads.

Wait, what was he supposed to be doing again? Oh right! Writing lyrics. Here’s what he had so far,

Am I the boy you dreamed of? Oh(might need to tone down the oh, don’t want people to think we’re too much of a boy band, if we ever played this)

Living in your subconscious, oh oh

Do you believe in love? Oh

And is it because of me?(i hope she still believes in love)

Yeah, if it's up to me

Am I the boy you dreamed of? Oh

Living in your subconscious, oh oh

Do you believe in love? Oh

And is it because of me?(once maybe, prob not anymore)

So not much, but soon it will hopefully become something. But he doubts that it will happen today, because once again, the Ewmans are in his general area of space, talking to his Lanes. Right now they were talking about some Disney Channel franchise that he knew Laney probably didn’t care less about and was only humoring the Ewmans in their conversation. That’s Lanes for ya, always so considerate and willing to listen to people talking about things she doe- “By the way, Laney, did you finish writing that song?” Carrie’s stupid voice really needs to stop interrupting his thoughts.

Hold on, Laney writes music now? Since when? “No, I still need to do the sad ex part. Angry ex is done though.” And she’s writing songs about heartbreak? Who broke her heart, Corey would like to know. “Care to share it?” Kim asks, her voice is less stupid than Carrie’s but it’s still stupid.

“Uh, sure.” Laney glances his way to make sure he’s not paying attention so Corey pretends to be doing something that doesn’t involve looking and paying attention to her. This seems to work as he can hear the rustling of paper and Laney says, “Larry could you read the highlighted part? It’s my favorite part. Also I’m thinking kind of like a slow piano part with this song if that makes sense. ” Corey hears the Ewmans agree and Larry begins to read the paper;

“Do you miss me like I miss you?

Fucked around and got attached to you

Friends can break your heart too

And I'm always tired but never of you

If I pulled a you on you, you wouldn't like that shit

I put this reel out, but you wouldn't bite that shit

I type a text but then I never mind that shit

I got these feelings but you never mind that shit

Oh, oh

Keep it on the low

You're still in love with me but your friends don't know.

And if I was you I would never let me go.”

Corey’s heart is pounding wildly. Did…Did Laney write this song about him? The Ewmans’ feedback falls flatly on his ears as he starts to scramble to figure this out. She did write that friends could break your heart, which did happen at least to him when they stopped being friends. And Lanes did used to always be tired but she also always listened to him and the others with as much attention as she could give them. She was right about how he would have felt if she did what he did to her. He would have hated it. He would have hated her.

All the signs were saying that the song was about him with the only part being wrong that Kin and Kon didn’t know about his feelings. They did, and were most definitely tired of him ranting about how he missed his chance and that he wished he could take it all back.

“We should sing that for battle of the bands!” Konnie says, pulling the brakes on Corey’s speeding thoughts. “If I can get it done in time, it’s hard trying to do the sad ex.” Lanes says and out of the corner of Corey’s eye he can see her putting paper into a blue folder. “Either way, that’s probably one of your best works, Penny Lane.” Larry says and Corey wants to yell at them to stop calling Laney Penny Lane because that is a stupid nickname even if he DOES like the Beatles sometimes.

But he doesn’t because last time he did that, Carrie threw a book at his head and told him that he doesn’t get to pick Laney’s nicknames. The book ended up breaking a shelf and Carrie had to work at the shop for a month to make up for it, so Corey would rather not have a repeat of that incident.

A ball of paper hits his face. “Riffin! What’s your band’s setlist?” Carrie asks and Corey has to fight the urge to vomit at the sight of Carrie’s face. “Uh for what?” Corey says when he realizes he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. “For the battle of the bands.” Carrie says with an eye roll. Corey scowls. “We’re not fully decided yet but we have agreed on 2 BEST FRIENDS, Old Me, and Monster.” He says. Sharing setlists is a thing he and Carrie do so that each band can do the opposite of what the other is doing. “Angry and rueful songs, huh? Guess we’re gonna have to do the opposite. Happy and content.” Carrie mumbles and Corey glances at the rest of the Ewmans and Lanes who are deep in thought.

“Yeah that’s great, can I have my personal space back?” Corey snaps and Carrie rolls her eyes some more. He hopes that one day they get stuck in the back of her head. “Jeez, what crawled up your ass and died? I’m just making sure we don’t sound the same and no one is gonna confuse our bands again, literally nothing about that is out of the ordinary.” She says, raising an eyebrow. “Three reasons. One, I don’t like you. Two, I’ve had to listen to your stupid voice for the past two hours. Three, It’s almost six and you and your band are still here, distracting my coworker from doing her job.” He snaps, crumpling the paper in his hands.

Carrie scoffs. “One, I don’t like you either but at least I can be civil with you. Two, your voice is annoying to me but do I say anything? No, I don’t. And three, you’ve literally just sat there for the past two hours doing nothing while Laney has been doing homework, going over stock in the display case, and keeping a steady conversation with us. I don’t think you get an opinion on what she does. And anyway, we’re leaving soon.” Corey opens his mouth to argue but for once, Carrie is right. He hates it when she calls him out but when she’s right, ugh that is the worst!

Carrie smiles. “That’s what I thought.” She turns around and Corey just watches numbly as she and the rest of the Ewmans say their goodbyes to Lanes. He hated the Ewmans before everything that went down with Laney, but now that they took Laney from them he hates them even more.

Faintly he can hear the door close so he looks over at Laney and starts to take her in. She’s not paying attention to him, so he can stare for as long he wants. Earlier today when they made the bet he noticed that she hadn’t straightened her hair that morning so her normally straight hair was curly. Corey had always thought Laney looks pretty but when her hair is in its natural state, it just does something to him. It’s like he’s seeing her for the first time all over again. Her eyes are darting over the stock notebook and he truly finds it incredible how expressive they can be. No matter how stoic her face is, her eyes always give her away. Her freckles cover her face perfectly and Corey just wants to kiss each one of them, one by-

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Lanes’ voice interrupts his thoughts. Corey jerks back a bit, embarrassing himself further after being caught staring. “Just taking in your natural beauty.” He responds, which is true but he knows Laney just thinks he’s messing with her when he says stuff like that. “You look like a stalker.” She answers, checking something off the stock notebook. Laney’s not even looking at him, she just knows he’s staring. “You’re a piece of art, Penn. I need at least an hour to take you in.” Corey says, grinning mischievously.

Laney looks up from the notebook, her expression a bored one. “Did you get that pick up line off the internet again?” She asks and Corey blushes. He really hopes it doesn’t show. “Ouch, you wound me. That was a Riffin original.” He says and Laney throws a pencil at his head. “No wonder it was bad then.” She reaches the stock notebook out towards him. “I’m going to stock check in the back, finish this for me will you?” Corey takes the notebook from her and their fingers brush. Just like when they did the pinkie promise, her skin feels warm and electrifying. She disappears into the back room as Corey lingers on how her touch makes him feel.

He loves it.

Almost as much as he loves her.

And the second chapter is done! Sorry if the ending seems a little awkward I didn’t know how to finish it. As always, send me asks about this, I would to info dump for this!

#grojband #corey riffin #laney penn #corney #grojband au #corey x laney #kin kujira #kon kujira #konnie kagami #kim kagami #carrie beff #larry nepp #kon x konnie

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sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee · 2 years ago

Note

Waylon probably has a horrible time trying to find blankets that are big enough to sleep all the way under, so what would his reaction be if someone made him a blanket (crochet, knitting, quilting, whatever) specifically so it wouldn't be too small for him to sleep under?

"Big and Tall" Killer Croc x Reader

Yeah, I bet! I'd never thought of it before, even if I sometimes have the problem of blankets being a tad too short;;; I went a little more friendly neutral for the relationship for this one!

TW: None

Waylon has had the issue of clothing, blankets, etc being too small for him from the time he was a teenager. It only got worse the taller he got over the years. Big and tall stores are such a precious commodity especially in some of the places he's been in before Gotham... He's gotten used to having to get things custom made, even when he barely had the money for it.

When you tell him you have the hobby of making blankets and the like, he jokes you should make him one. You know, since you're obviously so good at it.

He wasn't expecting you to work on one for months just in time for fall. How much yarn did you BUY? You must have filled a whole room with just yarn! Yet it's so soft... A blend of chocolatey brown, maroons, and blues- he's almost terrified of tearing it open with his claws. You tell him once you'd picked the color you knew he'd like, you bought it all out practically. It cost a pretty penny, but he didn't need to know that.

The truth of it is, he's INCREDIBLY touched. He's at least vaguely aware how long it takes to really make a good blanket, much less one suited for his size. This thing is going to get used the moment it gets too cold and possibly in the summer too with the AC cranked all the way up. Ultimate comfort. Pretty much all the time. It sits on his couch when not in use, so you'll physically see it when you visit.

He feels like he needs to make it up for you. While he's not good at crafting, why don't you tell him a recipe you really like? Or even one you miss? He'll make it special for you, just name a time and a place. Either it'll be a wonderful evening with friends or... under the right circumstances, could turn into a date.

#killer croc #waylon jones x reader #foxwriting

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use-your-imagination98 · 1 year ago

Text

GH Couples Inspired By Taylor Swift Songs

Had this in my drafts for FOREVER. thought it was a good time to post it haha.

Alan and Monica: The Last Great American Dynasty

And they said

"There goes the last great American dynasty"

"Who knows if she never showed up, what could've been"

Luke and Laura: My Tears Ricochet

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe

All the hell you gave me?

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you

'Til my dying day

Luke and Tracy: Better Man

I know

I’m probably better off all alone

Than needing a man who could

Change his mind at any given minute

Laura and Scotty: New Year’s Day

Please don't ever become a stranger

Whose laugh I could recognize anywhere

Laura and Kevin: Lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Kevin and Lucy: Delicate

This ain't for the best

My reputation's never been worse, so

You must like me for me

Frisco and Felicia: Closure

Yes, I'm doing better

I know that it's over, I don't need your

Closure

Mac and Felicia: Ours

And life makes love look hard

The stakes are high, the water's rough

But this love is ours

Robert and Anna: It's Nice to Have a Friend

Call my bluff, call you "babe"

Have my back, yeah, everyday

Anna and Valentin: Sparks Fly

My mind forgets to remind me, your a bad idea

You touch me once and it's really something

You find I'm even better than you, imagined I would be

Sonny and Brenda: The 1

But we were something, don't you think so?

Roaring 20s, tossing pennies in the pool

And if my wishes came true

It would've been you

Sonny and Carly: Haunted

You and I walk a fragile line

I have known it all this time

Sonny and Alexis: Blank Space

So hey, let's be friends

I'm dying to see how this one ends

Stone and Robin: Sad Beautiful Tragic

We had a beautiful magic love there

What a sad beautiful tragic love affair

Robin and Patrick: This Love

This love is good

This love is bad

This love is alive back from the dead

Lucky and Elizabeth: Tolerate It

While you were out building other worlds, where was I?

Where's that man who'd throw blankets over my barbed wire?

I made you my temple, my mural, my sky

Now I'm begging for footnotes in the story of your life

Nikolas and Emily: Happiness

There'll be happiness after you

But there was happiness because of you

Nikolas and Elizabeth: Dress

Our secret moments in your crowded room

They've got no idea about me and you

Ned and Alexis: Stay Stay Stay

You took the time to memorize me

My fears, my hopes and dreams

I just like hanging out with you

All the time

Alexis and Julian: Death By A Thousand Cuts

I get drunk but it's not enough

'Cause you're not my baby

I look through the windows of this love

Even though we boarded them up

LuLu and Dante: Wildest Dreams

Someday when you leave me

I bet these memories

Follow you around

Sam and Jason: It’s Time To Go

15 years, 15 million tears

Begging 'til my knees bled

I gave it my all, he gave me nothing at all

Then wondered why I left

Sam and Dante: Cardigan

And when I felt like I was an old cardigan

Under someone's bed

You put me on and said I was your favorite

Chase and Brook Lynn: Mastermind

Once upon a time, the planets and the fates

And all the stars aligned

You and I ended up in the same room

At the same time

Spencer and Trina: Invisible String

And isn't it just so pretty to think

All along there was some

Invisible string

Tying you to me?

Cameron and Jossyln: Karma

Addicted to betrayal, but you're relevant

You're terrified to look down

'Cause if you dare, you'll see the glare

Of everyone you burned just to get there

Elizabeth and Franco: Red

Remembering him comes in flashbacks and echoes

Tell myself it's time now, gotta let go

Maxie and Nathan: Enchanted

My thoughts will echo your name, until I see you again

These are the words I held back, as I was leaving too soon

#general hospital #gh #quartermaines #Laura Webber #Luke Spencer #Anna Devane #Robert Scorpio #LnL2 #more GH couples #bored and this came to mind #sprina #naxie #friz #sorry for some bad gif quality #some of these I have STANNED #others are just popular ships

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mochiponadventures · 1 year ago

Text

Punishment

...

Juliana was busy helping her mother in the garden when she heard someone approaching. It was Kieran. He carried a small box in his hands and gave Juliana a big smile.

"Hey Juli, i brought you some cookies made by my sis. Believe it or not, she fell in love with that home ed class at your school and is now full on trying out everything they learn there" This amused Juliana quite a lot, seeing as Carmine didn´t really looked like she would engage in such things at all...

"Thank you, i really appreciate it!" She got up from her position and walked over to Kieran, hugging him. "So i take that you two enjoy Naranja Academy so far?"

The boy nodded, still smiling.

"Yeah, it´s really nice here and the teachers are certainly different from those at Blueberry Academy" Less strict and way more more lenient, Kieran mused, chuckling. "Let me put these cookies inside the house before the sun melts them. It´s quite hot today. Do you want something to drink?" Juliana asked, taking the box from her friend, carrying it inside. "Yes please!" He replied, looking around the lot he was standing on. The garden really was beautiful and certainly ripe with all kinds of fruits and vegetables.

Just as he wanted to follow Juliana inside, he saw Ogerpon swiping the patio with a broom, looking all but not pleased. When his friend came back, he gently nudged the girl, pointing towards the sweeping pokemon. "What´s up with Ogi? She looks really angry, did something happen?"

At that, Juliana sighed, giving Keiran his drink.

"It´s a punishment, she did something very bad and is now living through the consequences of it. Right Ogi?" She turned towards the young Pokemon, raising a brow. There was only an indignified huff as answer as she continued to sweep the ground.

"What did she do?" Kieran asked.

"Well, she sneaked up in the attic, got her Iron Cudgel, which by the way she is forbidden from using outside of battles, and decided to hit Momo on top of his head with it..."

Ogi only rolled with her eyes.

"Don´t give me that eyeroll, young lady! We don´t hit in this house and you know that!"

"POOOOOOOOOOON PON!" Ogi replied dramatically, it was amazing how close it sounded to a child, whining. Kieran chuckled, shaking his head. "Poor Momo, i bet that must have hurt!"

"He cried for hours afterwards. I even had to take him to the Pokemon Center! And you know how he likes going there..." Momo had a severe phobia of hospital settings and thus, every visit to the Pokemon Center or it´s sick bay, made the little Pokemon flew into a giant panic attack. "Don´t even get me started when its time for his shots...you don´t wanna see him there..."

Kieran nodded at that, feeling sorry for the little Peach.

"You know, Ogi and Momo are pretty much like Carmine and me when it comes to sibling quabbles. She used to hit me too when i was too annoying for her taste. Of course never so bad that i had to go to the hospital, but still." The memories of these events were still fresh inside his head, albeit it had been years by now that they happened.

"Speaking of Momo, where is he? Terapagos wanted to go play with him as soon he heard me talking about going to visit you!"

"Oh i laid him down for a nap. The heat is making him kind of drowsy and i don´t want him to get a sunburn or heatstroke either. He is in my room." Keiran mused at that for a moment, it was really hot he had to admit. No wonder even Pokemon got bothered by it.

"That´s a shame, but of course his health goes first. I hope he feels better after that nap." He took a sip from his lemonade by now and relished at the taste. "This is really good. Perfect for a hot summer day!" Juliana nodded eagerly. "Yeah, my mom makes the best lemonade around here. Nemona, Arven and Penny can testify to that!" She laughed, pulling Kieran over to her, nuzzling his cheek.

"That said, I am done with gardening for now, why don´t you come inside and we can watch a couple movies? We have an air conditioner too, so it´s nice and cool inside." Before going inside though, she called over Ogi, allowing her a break as well.

"You can take a break as well, Ogi. Take a glass of the lemonade and go inside, okay? I don´t want you to get overheated either...you can continue later!"

Ogerpon was first relieved to finally being able to stop sweeping but got hit by the word "break", which meant that she had to continue later on, which did not sit right with her at all. Pouting she listened to Juliana and went inside with a huff, throwing the broom on the ground, probably to make a point.

"She still has a long way to go..." Juliana sighed, taking Kierans hand, pulling him inside. "Then again, i can´t really blame her. She never had someone to tell her what is right and what is wrong..."

"I think you´re doing a pretty good job as her trainer so far, so don´t worry about it!" They kissed each other and went inside together, hand in hand.

Inside the house there was a commotion going on already, Momo seemingly had woken from his slumber and was now darting through the house, visibly full of energy. From what Juliana could see, he had cookie crumbs around his cheeks which only could mean one thing...he must have gotten in the cookies Kieran had brought and Momo now effectively had a bona fide sugar rush.

"I think someone gourged themselves on your sisters cookies, Kieran..." Juliana chuckled, watching her youngest charge zooming around the house, giggling like crazy. Ogi followed him, visibly annoyed but also with cookie crumbs around her mouth.

"Now that Momo´s awake, i can let out Terapagos as well, that´s what he wanted anyway!" Kieran exclaimed, calling out his friend from inside his ball. "Alright Tera, go have fun with Momo!"

The young Pokemon did not wasted a minute and quickly got a hold of both Momo and Ogi.

"You think they let us watch our movies in peace?" Kieran asked, looking at Juliana with an amused look. "We can try, let´s go before there is yet another incident caused by this trio in the back"

And with that, both Juliana and Kieran sat down and enjoyed a couple hours together, with the joyful and livid background noises of playing Pokemon.

#mochiponadventures: story time #i think i will make these small stories now and then #to sort of develope this little AU #ogerpon #pecharunt

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thehotelojkids · 9 months ago

Note

So Nickel and Balloon, how is it having Penny? And would you ever consider getting another kid?

Nickel: Oh deeeefinitely. It’ll be soooo much fun having to change more dirty diapers and deal with them crying when they don’t get peanut butter. I bet it would be soooo much fun.

Balloon: Uh, Nickel..? Maybe you should focus on the first half of the question??

Nickel: Oh, right. Yeah, Penny’s pretty cool. He’s almost like a mini me, just with arms and…actually, he’s been picking up a bit of my sarcasm. Pretty cool, huh? Soon, he’ll be the new Coiny.

Balloon: I love Penny too! He’s a real fun-loving child, but he’s also cautious and careful sometimes, even if he DOES get lost most of the time.

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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 2 years ago

Text

Ribbons and Rainstorms

Epilogue - 2000 years later...

----

Hello everyone! Thank you so much for reading this far!, since you've made it here I'm assuming you enjoyed my fic, but hey! Consider reblogging? Or leaving me a nice comment? Thank you to everyone who gave me advice and support whilst I wrote this, it wouldn't be the same without everyone in the Big Bang server helping to make this happen <3

Do read this epilogue, though, I personally think its worth it :D

I can't remember who it was who suggested the names for the characters in this chapter, but I love you, and thank you so much.

This fic is my child, I even have a wall in my bedroom dedicated to it, so, you best appreciate it or I'll be coming for your kneecaps!!

<- Previous | Masterpost

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“You sure it’s this way?” Lara said, turning to her companion, who was squinting at a map as he deftly avoided the thick plant roots that seemed perfectly placed to trip up a person.

“Certain,” he replied, “But— Lara— are you sure we should be doing this? The forest— eugh— definitely doesn’t seem to want us here.”

“Sure, it’s a pretty dense forest,” She said, “But I don’t think forests are sentient, Nathan.”

“Right, right,” Replied Nathan, before he stepped straight into a muddy ditch, getting the stuff all up his trouser-leg, “Why are we doing this again?”

Lara rolled her eyes, “The locals tipped us off about an ancient temple in these woods, it could be the discovery of the century! Don’t you want to be famous?”

“Not if it means getting killed by a forest that seems far more dangerous than it should be,” Nathan said, glancing back at his map, “We should be nearly there— just up this hill, if this temple even exists.”

Half an hour of trekking through the forest that just seemed abnormally out to get them, the pair of archaeologists finally came upon the temple. The place was old, black marble chipped and no longer shining, the braziers fixed to the pillars rusted and filled with ash and fuel long since burned out. The inside was dim, filled with dust and the smell of mildew. Vines and plants trailed across the floors and up the walls, hugging the pillars and walls with thorns and probing shoots. The place was certainly old, and certainly abandoned.

“Wow…” Lara whispered as they mounted the crumbling steps, clicking on her torch as they entered the dark space.

“We— we should check that the walls are structurally sound before we go in here,” Nathan protested, staying back at the entrance, Lara turned back, rolling her eyes.

“It’s not like we’re taking a sledgehammer to it,” She said, “If it hasn’t collapsed in the time it’s been standing here, I doubt it’s gonna collapse now.”

She dumped her pack on the ground, fishing around inside until she pulled out a high-grade camera. Quickly flicking up the lens cap so she could take photos of the space.

In one corner was a pile of moth-eaten blankets that barely resembled blankets anymore. A closer look revealed that they had become home to a fair few critters over the years. Nathan deftly cut a sample of the material, running his fingers over it and calling out that it was certainly a good two-thousand years old. Frankly, he was astonished any of it was still here.

“There’s not much else here — I don’t think,” Lara called, running her hand over the crumbling stone altar. The draped fabric had been entirely eaten away, but the priceless metal decorations — the candelabra, the bowl, the chalice, still remained, “I bet these would fetch a pretty penny, I wonder if the British Museum would be interested.”

Nathan scoffed, “As long as it��s stolen from a native people, I’m sure they will be.”

“Okay, maybe not the best idea, but we should— we should definitely report this to the historical society.”

“Yeah, good idea— hey Lara— what’s that?” Nathan asked, gesturing behind her.

“What’s what?”

“Behind you, on the wall.”

Lara turned around, stepping black so the beam from her torch could light up most of the wall.

Against the back stretch of wall hung a tapestry, a tapestry that depicted two figures holding hands, one with flowing black hair, dressed in beautiful robes that fit the fashion two millennia ago, and the other with tan skin and dressed befitting of a prince from a fantasy book.

“Oh how beautiful,” Nathan whispered, the sight taking their breath away, “What a lovely tapestry…”

“Can you tell when it was made?” Lara asked.

“Well— based on their dress and the needlework—" he said, slowly approaching the tapestry and running his hand over it, before lifting up the bottom corner and checking the back, “And the wool, it looks to be from a few thousand years ago, but…”

“But what?”

“The fabric has almost no wear and tear whatsoever, the colours are exceptionally bright…” Nathan mumbled, “If someone told me this was made yesterday I wouldn’t be surprised, based on condition alone.”

“How is that possible?” She asked slowly, joining him in front of the fabric to run her hand along the edge, “It should’ve been ravaged by the elements, moths, other forest creatures— but it’s not damaged in the slightest… not even frayed…”

“Very strange,” Nathan nodded, stepping back again to see what it depicted, “Do you think they were friends?”

Lara looked at him with an odd expression, before letting out an exasperated sigh, “‘do you think they were friends’ no friends look into each other’s eyes like that— they’re holding hands— are you dense?”

“Okay okay ,jeez,” He raised his hands in surrender, “Who were they, do you think?”

“Perhaps the ones who live in this temple?” Said a voice from behind them. Both archeologists turned in sync, wide eyed, to stare at the tall figure in the doorway. When he took a step forward — into Lara’s torchlight — they both gasped, because he almost perfectly matched one of the figures on the tapestry. Dress and all — he looked like he’d just stepped out of a storybook, he was almost glowing.

“Who are you?” Nathan asked hesitantly.

“Why, I’m Ro, of course,” they said, “I know mortals have been severely lacking in whimsy the last few centuries, but surely you haven’t forgotten us all completely. Also, I thank you for correcting your friend, that is in fact my husband.”

“Wait— slow down— just a little bit,” Lara said, raising a hand, “This tapestry is two-thousand years old, you’re saying you are this person— and the other is your husband?”

“Precisely,” Ro said, as though the information made any sense at all, “See?”

He gestured to their hair, where an elaborately designed crown sat atop his bun — the only thing about his appearance that wasn't depicted in the tapestry. It seemed to be made from gold and silver embellished with red and purple gemstones. It looked… incredibly expensive.

The archeologists didn’t know what exactly the garment meant — unfortunately the culture around hair accessories had been lost to time, and now there were only brief records of the practice — but they could easily assume it was special to this strange person.

“Now,” He said, reaching behind him and drawing a sword that was as thick as both Lara’s arms and twice as long, “Do you wish to do harm to this temple?”

—-

Lara and Nathan left the temple with no clue how to explain to the rest of society that they had just met — talked to, been threatened by — a God, but they would have to work it out before they got back, because that was without a doubt what had happened to them today.

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<- Previous | Masterpost

#sanders sides #roman sanders #prinxiety #prinxiety fanfiction #fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #Ribbons and Rainstorms #rowans writings

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