#you’re so right!! there’s not nearly enough high school/younger aus in this fandom so this was super fun to write thank uuu!!!🫶🏻 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

biggest-stupidhead · 4 years ago

Note

more modern au levi x reader!! is it okay where reader makes petra jealous???

Just a reminder: WE DO NOT CONDONE PETRA SLANDER IN THIS HOUSE!!!

with that said, I will write this heavily focused on Petra to make it a lil angsty, hope you enjoy!

Summary: Petra watches her ex fall for another

Word Count: 1.7K

It had been two long years since Petra and Levi ended things. It wasn’t messy but it was painful, she had seen it coming from a mile away. He had grown just as distant as he had been when they first met. Staying late at work, texting her dryly, and using terrible excuses. Although she had known it was coming, she still was a wreck when he actually ended things. She spent the months following the break up drinking wine and crashing at Oluo’s place regularly. After two years she was finally feeling better, dare she say, ready to get back into the dating scene? Or at least that’s what she thought, she was scrolling through her instagram feed when she stumbled across Hange’s page. It was someone’s birthday, someone she wasn’t familiar with.

A woman with bight eyes and an even brighter smile was in the center of the group photo. On her right was Levi, who had an arm thrown casually over her shoulder, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. Petra pinched the screen to zoom into Levi’s side, where she saw a feminine hand on his waist. She stared stupidly at the image. She shouldn’t feel jealous, she had no right. It had been two long years since the break up. But the picture only dredged up old memories of times when she would hold Levi that same way. When that smile was directed to her. She then turned her attention to the caption, which read:

Happy Birthday (Y/n)! 24 never looked so good!

She then scrolled through the comments, many of them consisted of birthday wishes and support. She lost interest when she didn’t see Levi’s username and instead went back to the collection of photos, three of them in all. The group one that she assumed had just been taken, the second one was a picture of Hange and you on the beach, Petra felt a involuntary wave of self consciousness wash over her at the site of you in a swim suite. The final picture was the one that hurt the most though, it seemed to be a very old picture of you, maybe from your early years in college? You were sitting on a couch with younger versions of Hange, Erwin, Levi, and Moblit. Levi’s arm was casually thrown over your shoulders. Why had he never mentioned you before? Were you the reason that they broke up? No Levi had assured her that it wasn’t like that, said he wasn’t seeing anyone else. She tried to stop herself from going down that rabbit hole, but she couldn’t seem to. Before she really knew what she was doing, she had clicked on your profile which she was almost disappointed to find as public. This meant that there was nothing stopping her from judging every perfect image that was posted, and to her pleasant surprise, there was only one photo of you and Levi. The photo was posted the week prior, the two of you were hiking in the mountains, the dusty trial behind you. Your face was flushed from the exertion of the climb, Levi seemed cool as a cucumber, his face blank and void of emotion. She scrolled through the post and found a video, the sound of your shoes crunching and Levi talking behind you were clear as day.

“I mean come on, who uses fucking Lipton? Have some god damn class.” Levi spat, as you snorted in amusement. Petra found herself chuckling along with you at Levi’s little rant. She felt a rogue tear slide down her cheek when you showed the phone to Levi, who’s face fell from being mildly animated to apathetic once more. You cackled as he swiped the phone and the video ended abruptly. It was so innocent, it was clear from the rest of your page that you were a private person, much like Levi. With little indication that you were dating him, it left her wanting to know more. More about the girl that had taken her place, had managed to worm her way into Levi’s heart of stone and make herself comfortable. As soon as these thoughts crowded into her head, she deleted instagram all together and powered her phone down, determined to wipe her memory of the images she had seen.

The music was a nice distraction from the awkwardness that hung in the air. You had arrived uncharacteristically early to Hange’s party, and consequently meeting a whole group of people that you had never met before. The new people were about your age, three young men and one stunning young woman. It was early fall and Hange’s annual bonfire bash as you all had dubbed the event. Basically you lit a massive fire, when you were younger it was your past assignments from your pervious school year, then it became just regular old wood. You tapped your finger against the cool beer bottle as you leaned up against the counter, the men were laughing obnoxiously as they dropped the alcohol that they’d brought into one of the many coolers. The woman was looking at you almost nervously, she seemed extremely on edge, shifting her weight back and forth, eyes wandering around the room in a jittery manner. You frowned, wondering what was bothering her, but ultimately deciding that it was not really your business. Erwin shimmied behind you, his hands on your shoulders as he slide past you into the kitchen. You caught his arm, clinging to his familiar presence.

“Erwin.” you hissed as he stooped to reach your level.

“Who are these people?” you asked as you held his bicep firmly in your grasp. He pulled away and looked at you with a confused expression.

“You mean Levi didn’t tell you?” He said slowly, clearly he was unsure if it was his place to speak on the relationship between Levi and these people.

“No....” You said carefully, not wanting to make Erwin uncomfortable.

“Oh well they used to work in the same department before Levi switched.” He said, he looked over to the men and motioned for them to come over, they ambled over with curious expressions.

“What’s up Erwin?” the dark haired man asked as he looked between the two of you.

“Just thought I’d ought to introduce you to (Y/n) here, she’s an old friend of ours from high school.” Erwin explained, his hand still comfortingly placed on your mid back. You waved shyly and smiled at all of them, including the girl.

“Pleasure to meet you.” The blonde with a ponytail said, outstretching his hand to shake yours.

“I’m Eld, this is Gunther, Oluo, and that fine young lady over there is Petra.” He said, pointing at all of them respectively.

“It’s so nice to meet you guys!” you said sweetly as you struck up a conversation with Oluo about what they thought about the department that they worked in. It didn’t go unnoticed that Petra remained nearly silent, her amber eyes wide and a bit fearful. When the interns arrived, the men were quick to go help them carry in the alcohol that they brought, leaving you and Petra alone in the kitchen. You cocked your head at her as you poured some pretzels into a large bowl. The warm glow of the setting sun cast a halo over her head and you couldn’t help but voice your admiration for her.

“You’re really pretty.” you gushed as she blushed at your words and turned to look at you with wide eyes.

“So are you...” She returned the compliment and you smiled, feeling more at ease now that the two of you were alone.

“So how long have you known Hange?” You asked conversationally as you crumpled up the bag and tossed it into the trash.

“Hm let’s see...about four years now?” She responded with a bit of a wistful tone.

“Really? I’m surprised we haven’t met sooner!” you chuckled as the two of you opened a bottle of wine and poured it into two large glasses. The two of you strolled out into the bark yard, where Hange and Moblit were chucking large pallets of wood onto the fire pit. You and Petra sat down in two lawn chairs watching as Hange and Moblit bickered over if it was safe enough to light the fire with gasoline.

“I am too, you seem....like a really nice girl.” Petra said a bit downcast as she looked deeply into her wine.

“So do you! We should grab breakfast ooo or maybe even brunch sometime!” You said excitedly and Petra sat there in awe, wondering if there was even a mean bone in your body. Or if you had any clue that she had dated Levi.

“Yeah...this is kind of random but...are you dating Levi?” She blurted out, her face turning to look at you with a flushed expression. You nodded nonchalantly and took another sip of your wine.

“Yeah we just started dating about a year ago.” You said with a shrug, Petra inhaled, readying herself for the next words that would either make or break the future relationship between the two of you.

“Did...you know we dated?” she said, cringing when the words left her mouth. She sounded crazy and she knew it, but she felt obligated to clear the air between you before it got bad.

“Hm I think he mentioned it once or twice, and Hange told me about you when you first started dating.” You said looking up thoughtfully, your tone held no malice or any sign of ill will.

“You’re not...”

“Insecure? Nah, and don’t take that like I’m being cocky! I just mean that...”

“No, no let’s just not do this. I’m sorry for bringing it up. God I’m such a bitch.” Petra went to stand and you followed her, catching her wrist.

“It’s alright really, I don’t care about what happened between you and Levi. It’s frankly none of my business, I just...wanna be friends with you.” you smiled at her sheepishly as she looked at you with wide eyes.

“Oh” She managed to say dumbly.

“That is if you want to be friends.” You said, letting go of her hand and giving her some space.

“Yeah...I think that I’d like that very much.” Petra said with a bright smile.

In honor of Women’s History month, I couldn’t bare to write something that was a stereotypical jealous ex, so I did the next best thing and wrote this more geared towards the reader and Petra bringing each other up instead of tearing one another down. As someone who was apart of the fandom back in like 2014 I am way too familiar with writers turning Petra into a psycho bitch, and I don’t like that. SO I hope that this is good enough to fit the prompt!

#levi x reader #levi x y/n #levi x you #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman #jealous petra ral #modern au #erwin smith #hange zoe #moblit #aot fanfiction #aot fandom #light angst #fluff #women supporting women #no petra slander allowed #womens history month

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gravelyhumerus · 4 years ago

Text

Criminal Minds College AU - Chapter Seventeen

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Title: “I may just take your breath away”

Relationship: Jemily

Summary:

Exams, pizza, board games... what more could a girl ask for?

Slow-burn Jemily college AU where they live across the hall and despite all odds, the universe pushes them together. AKA they’re silly gay babies who pine after each other for months.

Read it on AO3

Tumblr: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Nine, Ten, Eleven, Twelve, Thirteen, Fourteen, Fifteen, Sixteen, (bonus scene), Seventeen, Eighteen, Nineteen, Twenty

“That was a lot of chess,” Emily complained, nearly chugging her latte as she and Spencer left the coffee shop.

She pulled her beanie onto her head and braced herself for the snow as the taller boy held the door open for her. Emily almost slipped on the slushy tile floor on her way out but managed to keep her balance.

“Fifteen of the multiple-choice questions to be precise,” Spencer replied. The salted sidewalk crunched under their feet as they made their way across campus.

“I’m so glad it’s finally over,” she admitted. “I think I’ve had enough philosophy to last me a lifetime.”

“I’m enrolled in ‘Minds and Machines’ next semester,” he said. “I think I might try and get a double minor this time around.”

“What’s the goal? Three PhDs by the time you’re 24?” Emily quipped.

He was well on his way, having completed his engineering degree before she managed to graduate high school. He was 17, only two years younger than her, but somehow seemed like a kid. A kid with more education crammed into his brain than she could ever master in her life.

“Something like that,” he replied with a smile. His hair was getting long and he had tied it back during the exam. With last names starting with P and R, they were seated near each other in the large exam hall, and she glanced over at him as he fussed with his hair.

They stopped at the red light, watching as the cars and busses wooshed past them, sending the slush flying into the snowbanks. It had been a fairly sunny day, but bitterly cold. Now, the sun was setting and the campus was bathed in a warm golden glow. The snow had fallen the night before, leaving fluffy white snow covering their campus.

Emily had spent most of the day holed up in the library with Spencer, with him quizzing her on fallacies and philosophers. With his eidetic memory, he only really needed to read the material once. Earlier in the semester, she did feel useful when it came to editing each other’s essays. He always got bogged down with detail, word vomiting everything he knew, and she helped him with his structure and argumentation.

More studying awaited her back in her room. She rubbed at the back of her neck as she thought about the upcoming evening spent hunched over her desk studying criminal justice, a subject that left her questioning her degree half the time as she was forced to learn about the muddled ethics of justice.

That week, she had survived on minimal sleep, eating mostly bagels and coffee to sustain her. Her body was protesting with each step, and she had suffered from a constant tension headache for as long as she remembered. At least her college had that golden retriever walk around at the library yesterday, she thought to herself, sarcastically. Animal therapy definitely relieved all her stress. As if petting a dog for five minutes would fix the anxiety of finals season.

Two more exams, she reminded herself. You’ll make it.

Despite this mantra, Emily was conflicted. While finals were killing her, the end of the semester also meant winter break. Emily would be forced to go “home” for the holidays. For most college students, that meant going back to their respective towns and being surrounded by their loved ones. Emily, on the other hand, didn’t have anywhere she called home. Last winter break, her mom had at least been in DC, and Emily was able to catch up with some of her international school friends who were in the city. This time, her mom was stationed in London, and Emily knew she’d be roped back into her old life. She didn’t know anyone there and knew most of her break would be spent alone.

The last place she had called home was Rome, and now that was tarnished by her complicated past with that city.

Emily was good at being alone. Being an only child of a workaholic single mom meant she learned to keep her own company. She read a lot. She got good at running away, escaping her nannies, and skirting security in order to roam free. She’d be fine.

The problem was that Emily had gotten used to this. She rarely spent a moment alone these days. Whether it was walking to class with Spencer, or Hotch, or Derek, getting lunch with the team, surprise coffee dates with Penelope and spending almost every evening with her girlfriend, she hadn’t been left alone in ages. She didn’t miss it.

Their residence building had a warm yellow light shining out of the windows and a soft red brick facade. In the summer, ivy grew up the south facing side but in the winter, the ledges were covered in snow and the stone steps were slippery. She trudged forward, excited for the warm embrace of the dorm.

Spencer had other plans. He reached into the garish yellow plastic newspaper box that was stationed next to their doorway and retrieved this week’s newspaper.

“Come on Reid,” Emily said. “Just subscribe to the newsletter or something like the rest of us.”

He held up the cover to her in surprise. Usually it reported the news of a recent sports victory, or a change of policy announced by the administrators, or even a fun event held on campus. Sometimes there was even a dramatic protest or an important speaker coming to campus. But this week, the headline surprised her. In large font printed across the page read: “Multiple student politicians fired amid financial scandal.”

“That sounds bad,” Emily said. It did seem way more dramatic on newsprint than on a website, so maybe Spencer was onto something with his affinity for the printed word.

Grabbing a copy for herself, she then walked inside to escape the cold. Warm air greeted them as they entered their residence hall, and both students kicked the snow off their boots before trudging up the stairs. They read as they walked, but the route to their rooms was already muscle memory, so neither worried about stumbling on their way.

Normally, Emily wouldn’t willingly touch this sort of student politics with a ten foot pole. Sure, she was involved with the Criminology council, but there was a difference between the kind of person interested in petitioning for better accessibility to faculty events or running a bake sale, and the kind of students to embezzle thousands of student dollars like what the current student government executive seemed to be accused of doing.

She quickly ran her eyes down the page, the contents jogging a memory from Halloween, of Hotch and JJ discussing the early stirrings of said scandal.

“You know,” Spencer said, “I’m surprised they got a lot of this information, it’s notoriously difficult to file FOIAs for student governments, as they’re technically private corporations. So the fact that they got these files means that this is a much bigger scandal than one might assume.”

Corruption, bribery, embezzlement, nepotism. All words that jogged memories of hiding in the corner of political fundraisers, overhearing the worst of politics from too-drunk elites sipping on their wine and munching on charcuterie.

“I hate politics,” Emily said, stuffing her copy of the paper into her bag.

“I find it interesting. It’s basically a microcosm of our current political climate. In fact, I have subscribed to the print edition of fifteen student papers in the region,” Spencer said, “I like to keep informed on the coverage of student issues, and compare them to our own.”

“Why?!” Emily said with a laugh. “You know you can just look them up online.”

Spencer gave her a withering look, and she should have known better than asking about his aversion to tech. He loathed having to use his computer, as the LCD screens apparently gave him a headache. Penelope even gave him a pair of blue light glasses to attempt to alleviate the issue.

Then, he began to speak, at length, about the dying printed news industry and why print copies were better for understanding than screens et cetera. She made sure to nod and hum at appropriate points, but her mind kept wandering.

She wondered if her girlfriend was in her room. Emily missed her any time they were apart and she yearned to hold her in her arms once again. But she shouldn’t. She needed to work. She had too much to do. Her grades had slipped, slightly, this semester. Everyone warned her about how college would be harder than high school, but no one ever warned her how much the expectations were raised in second year.

Two more exams. She clutched her coffee tighter. She’d rather do anything else besides study at this point. Her body was exhausted, her mind frazzled. She wondered if she could even manage to get through a chapter of revision before conking out on her desk.

As she said goodbye to Spencer and struggled with her keys that were tangled up in their corresponding university-branded lanyard, JJ’s door opened.

“Hey girlfriend,” JJ greeted her, sounding way too much like a straight girl greeting her platonic friend for Emily’s taste. She gave her a pass because it sounded cute in her voice.

“JJ!” Emily said, somehow surprised to see her despite the fact that she lived right across the hall. Her girlfriend was dressed in sweatpants and an oversized sweater, with her straight hair tucked behind her ears and her face bare of make up. Her face was lit up with a smile, and Emily rushed towards her, planting a soft kiss on her lips.

“Hi JJ,” Spencer said as Emily and JJ kissed.

When they pulled apart, JJ gave Spencer a smile as a greeting and asked them how their exam went.

Spencer babbled about their Logic exams for a minute or two, as Emily basked in JJ’s presence. She grabbed onto her hand and found that it was so much hotter than her own and wasn’t sure if she held on tight because she was cold, or if she had missed her girlfriend.

“I’m just glad it’s over,” Emily said. “I never want to hear about fallacies again.”

Spencer seemed to want to say something, but fell silent at Emily’s tired expression.

“Wanna come in for a bit?” JJ whispered in Emily’s ear. Apparently she said so a touch too loud because Spencer replied instead.

“Sure!” he said, and then walked into JJ and Penelope’s room.

“I should really study,” Emily tried to argue, but a single glance into JJ’s deep, blue eyes had Emily melting.

JJ’s room was much messier than Emily had last seen it. Both desks showed clear markers of the ongoing exams, with papers and books piled high. In addition to this was an assortment of pillows strewn all over the floor.

“You guys are back early!” JJ said, after checking her watch, “I thought it was a two hour exam?”

“I finished in an hour,” Spencer said, “and Emily only needed an extra half hour on top of my time.”

Damn straight, Emily thought, feeling somewhat competitive with the boy-genius despite herself.

She really should study, but the prospect of seeing her girlfriend outweighed the desire to sit hunched over a textbook for another evening.

Emily and Spencer kicked off their boots, placing them neatly on the mat by the door before peeling their jackets off and hanging them on the back of her door. Emily wasn’t sure if she liked winter. Whenever her mother was stationed in the Middle East she yearned for snow, but now that she was experiencing the Nor’easter for the first time, the desert sounded like a good time.

“Well there goes my plan,” JJ said, blowing her hair out of her face with a puff of air.

Spencer flopped onto Penelope’s neatly-made bed, collapsing into the assortment of pink pillows while carefully keeping his take-away cup upright. Emily sat down next to JJ on her bed.

“Your plan?” Emily asked.

“Yeah,” JJ said, sounding a bit shy. “I had this whole plan to make up a blanket fort here for you, and I would surprise you with it when you walked in.’”

JJ gestured with her hands at the mess. Blankets and pillows were strewn about, and a bundle of fairy lights were laying in the middle of the floor.

“Then you came back early,” JJ concluded. “Spence, I thought you’d keep her occupied longer!”

“You didn’t tell me that,” he replied. Spencer looked quizzically at her, shrugged, then took another sip of his coffee.

“I just wanted us to have a cute date night,” JJ admitted. “I know you’re so stressed, and you deserve a break.”

Emily grabbed her girlfriend’s moving hands and held them in her own. She felt overwhelmed. JJ was so… thoughtful. Caring. Attentive. So many things that were absolutely foreign to Emily. No one had ever tried to impress her like this.

“It’s okay,” Emily said. “We don’t need anything special to have a cute date night. You’re cute enough.”

JJ gave Emily a goofy smile in response.

“Okay,” JJ said. “If you say so.”

“You’re building a blanket fort?” Spencer asked. “I actually have some experience with blanket fort architecture.”

“You do?” JJ asked, raising her eyebrows skeptically.

“Of course,” he replied, seeming almost offended that she questioned him. “It sparked my interest in engineering. I wanted to overcome the problem of chair-tippage when it came to building the structure, so I devised a system of counter-weights that I found increased the structural integrity by 53%. My mom always told me that I could be an architect, but I thought the sciences better suited my intellect.”

“Oh?” Emily asked, genuinely interested. How would someone measure the structural integrity of a blanket fort?

“Actually, I have some blueprints. Let me grab them,” he said, standing up and making a move for the door.

“Of course you have blueprints,” JJ laughed.

“I should probably go feed Gideon, anyway. I’ll be right back!” Spencer said. Before closing the door behind him.

“Gideon?” Emily asked.

“His fish,” JJ said, “the one he won at the fair. It’s named after his professor, I think.”

She shrugged. The kid was weird, they tended to just accept that.

“I guess Spencer’s joining us on date night,” JJ said. “Sorry. I know you’re stressed and probably want to be studying, but I thought we’d order pizza and just have one night off. Just us. And Spencer.”

JJ planted a firm kiss on Emily’s lips, leaving her dazed and blushing.

“Relaxing sounds perfect,” Emily said, pulling her girlfriend closer to her. “I can’t believe it’s already exams. This semester has flown by. Soon it’ll be winter break, and I won’t get to see you.”

“I can’t imagine you not being right across the hall,” JJ said. “Who will give me kisses when I want them?”

JJ kissed Emily, sucking on Emily’s bottom lip slightly before pulling apart to look at her.

“I know you’re joking, but I hope you’re not kissing anybody else, no matter the circumstances.”

With that established, Emily pounced on her girlfriend, pushing her onto her bed and kissing her deeply. She intertwined her fingers in the blonde locks that were splayed out in a golden halo and breathed in deep, taking in the warm scent of the lilac candle that burnt on her night side table.

All her worries melted away at JJ’s touch. Emily’s brain was filled with the feeling of JJ’s lips on hers, with her lithe form beneath her. Exams, student politics and thoughts of home were wiped away, and her stress faded into background noise.

JJ’s pliant form writhed under Emily’s, her hands sneaking below Emily’s sweater and dancing over her back. They deepened the kiss until they were making out like teenagers in JJ’s dorm with the door still open a crack.

This was how Spencer, accompanied by Derek, found them when they pushed open the door with blanket fort blueprints and bags of potato chips in hand.

Spencer made a surprised noise, which made Emily aware of his return. She jumped up and pulled apart from JJ with a dark red blush gracing her cheeks.

“Woah there ladies,” Derek said with a laugh. “Keep it in your pants!”

“Guys! I was gone for five minutes!” Spencer whined.

Emily stood up awkwardly, stuffing her hands in her pockets as she watched JJ sit up and pat her hair down in a huff.

“Sorry,” Emily grumbled, not really meaning it. She would never be sorry for kissing JJ, but she was sorry for the awkwardness

“Pretty boy dragged me down the hall,” Derek said in explanation. He had Spencer’s rolled-up fort plans in his hand, and lightly smacked Emily’s head with it, making a comedic thwap noise as it made contact. “Hope you weren’t in the middle of something?”

“Only JJ’s legs,” Emily quipped to everyone’s surprise, even her own. JJ hit her jokingly and blushed.

“Hey!” Derek laughed, “Let’s keep this PG!”

“You called?” The voice of Penelope Garcia—PG if you will—rang out from the hallway, and within seconds JJ’s room was filled with just about all their friends standing around in a slightly awkward silence: JJ, Emily, Spencer and Derek were joined by Penelope with Hotch in tow.

The latter two of them had grown closer recently and walked into the room with white shopping bags with the walrus logo printed on the side, looking like they had just returned from out in the cold. Penelope and Hotch going thrifting together, that’s new! Emily thought to herself and decided to file the observation for later. The image of Hotch watching Penelope’s customary fashion show was enough to make her laugh under her breath.

“We’re building a blanket fort,” Spencer announced, changing the subject to the task at hand. “Are you guys helping?”

“Oh you know I will, boy genius,” Penelope said with an excited smile.

Emily looked over to her girlfriend. So much for date night.

———

Without much questioning about why they were building a blanket fort, the team got to work. In college, sometimes things just happened. Impromptu blanket forts were par the course. In their defense, any excuse to not spend the evening burying their heads in textbooks was a welcome reprieve.

It started with just a few blankets draped in the space between JJ and Penelope’s beds, but with Spencer’s instruction, a verifiable architectural marvel began to take shape.

While Emily knew that Penelope would be all gung ho for this sort of project, it was certainly amusing to see Hotch in his khakis and dress shirt crawling around on the floor like a child with the rest of them, tying off blankets and very seriously maneuvering the different parts of the structure.

Sheets were draped here and there, tied together to form ceilings and walls. Two chairs stolen from the common room, loaded with backpacks on the seat for support acted as the entrance to the fort.

While it was crawling space only, Emily had to note that there was a sense of awe when you emerged into the open space of the main fort-area. It was surprisingly big, fitting all six of them with ease. The key to the whole design was a curtain rod Hotch had stolen from the boys shower that lifted the roof up.

The design was strangely reminiscent of Baroque architecture, which she was sure was due to Spencer’s designs. This was a fact that Emily kept to herself. She always tried to rein in the ‘I lived abroad’ conversation points so her childhood could remain under minimal scrutiny.

Emily’s exhaustion transformed into excitement as she relished the time hanging out with her friends. Music played from Penelope’s computer as they worked, they began to work as a cohesive group, each member doing their share. It was nice to do something besides sit at her desk and obsess over memorizing facts and statistics, or figuring out the proper argumentation for an essay on a subject. Making sure that a bunch of blankets didn’t crash onto them was treated with the utmost seriousness, and the whole group was focused with intense concentration at their own tasks.

Spencer did, in fact, have literal sketches of blanket forts in his notebooks, but the details of which were fairly incomprehensible to her. While she believed that he did the math, his chicken scratch was just about indecipherable, and his drawing was little more than a few shapes on a page. Despite this, it was laid out on the centre of the dorm-room floor for them to reference.

At one point, as Emily stood on JJ’s wheely chair, she feared that the fort had all come crashing down as she lost her balance and grabbed at the blankets to stop her fall before tumbling onto Derek with a yelp.

“Sorry,” she muttered as she climbed back onto her feet and fought off the blanket that had wrapped her in a shroud.

She flinched as she realized she had ruined it all, a pit forming in her stomach. She looked at her friends in concern, but instead of yelling at her for her mistake, or shunning her for ruining it for the rest of them, they smiled at her and helped her up.

“It’s okay!” Spencer said cheerfully. “I know exactly how to reinforce that wall.”

“You okay, Emily?” Hotch asked, righting the wheely chair as JJ fretted over her.

“I’m good,” she answered, still confused as to why they weren’t mad at her.

Instead of making a big deal over the set back, they went back to work. Soon, the fort filled out and it returned to its former glory. Arguably, better than it was because they had draped fairy lights throughout the inside, making the space glow with a warm orange light.

Inside was filled with pillows and big enough for all of them to sit comfortably so it was a comfy lounge space. It was cozy and warm, the antithesis of the bitterly cold night air outside.

“You know what?” Hotch said. “This is a damned good fort, Reid.”

The group muttered in consensus. They all had piled into the space, and as the excitement wore off, Emily was wondering what happened next. What does one do in a blanket fort? She had vague memories of building one in her room, but she had just sat inside and read a book.

“I hear the RA’s storage room has a ton of board games,” Penelope said. “They pull them out for socials and stuff.”

“That’s all well and good, but we’re not asking Strauss to let us in,” Derek argued. “I still think she thinks we were responsible for that fire alarm last week. She’s been giving me the evil eye ever since.”

“Who said we had to tell her?” Emily said. “We could just… borrow… them…”

“I mean, they are for us to use, anyway.” JJ’s eyes had a mischievous look in them as she looked at Emily.

“That is true,” Hotch said, the scowl that was usually a fixture on his face turning to a smirk.

“That’s stealing, guys,” Spencer warned, as if they didn’t already know that.

“We’ll give them back,” Emily said with a shrug. “Come on!”

Penelope led the way to a dark wooden door on the main floor, it was labelled simply “Storage,” but the computer science student assured them that it was where the RA’s stored all of their supplies.

“It’s locked,” Penelope huffed.

“Do you have a bobby pin?” Emily asked her in a hushed voice. She wouldn’t have gotten this far if she hadn’t learned how to pick simple door locks. She had trouble with deadbolts but a simple latch she could probably do within a couple of minutes.

The blonde pulled a hot pink bobby pin out of her perfectly curled hair. Emily snapped it into two, bending one end into a longer L-shape. Sticking that into the bottom of the lock and holding it in place, she used the other side to feel for the pins that held the lock in place.

Emily could feel all eyes on her as she confidently knelt in front of the doorknob, the group keeping watch for her as she worked. No one questioned how or why Emily knew how to do this. She had her reasons.

This definitely broke all sorts of residence rules and if they got caught, they knew they’d get into shit, but no one seemed to care that much. They just wouldn’t get caught.

After a couple minutes, Emily’s hands began to sweat. What if she couldn’t do this anymore? She tried to centre herself. She had made it through infinitely more stressful situations in the past. It was the eyes of her friends on her that made her nervous. She was finally accepted by a group, and she desperately didn’t want to let them down.

Then, it clicked, and she was able to turn the brass knob easily. Emily made a noise of excitement, got to her feet and yanked the door open.

Instead of an empty storage closet, on the other side of the door was Erin Strauss, their RA, in a passionate embrace with David Rossi. Her shirt was unbuttoned and he was in the middle of sucking on her neck.

“Dave?!” Hotch called out, startling the couple.

Both groups stood stock-still, neither knowing what to say. While Emily had hid the bobby pins, she wasn’t sure who was in more trouble, them for breaking into the room or their RA for using the space for unofficial purposes.

The room was small and cramped, with a pile of poster board mostly obscuring the one small window that lit the space. Strauss had been hoisted onto the desk, her legs straddling the other student. Emily could see a shelf filled with the board games stacked on the left side of the room, but they seemed unimportant at the moment. While Emily had known about their illicit love affair, she had never expected to see it in action.

“Hey guys,” Rossi said after a moment, his unwavering confidence carrying on to this moment as he pulled apart from Strauss, who was furiously buttoning up her shirt and trying to sort herself out.

“What are you all doing in here?” she demanded, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. “This room’s meant for RA’s only.”

“Well,” Emily said, startled by her own audacity, “Dave isn’t an RA so…”

“We just came for some board games,” JJ said in her most diplomatic voice, despite clearly wanting to laugh at the situation, “then we’ll be off.”

“Take them and go,” the RA said in a strangled voice, her face beet-red and as she avoided eye contact like it was the plague.

Clearly not as embarrassed as Strauss, Rossi simply smirked, collected a few board games into his arms off of the shelf, then deposited them into Emily’s arms.

Realizing that given the circumstances, they couldn’t be picky with their choices, the stunned group thanked him then scurried away, back upstairs with their loot. The silence remained until they made it back to their floor, where they all burst into laughter.

“What on earth was that?!” Derek exclaimed.

“Rossi and Strauss,” Spencer muttered.

Emily and JJ made eye contact, remembering all those weeks ago when they had caught their friend emerging from the RA’s room down the hall in the middle of the night. They had known that Rossi and Strauss had hooked up that night, but had no idea that it was a whole relationship.

“I see it,” Hotch commented. “I mean, I don’t know your RA too well, but Rossi likes a woman with authority.”

Derek and Emily fake-gagged in an exaggerated manner at the comment.

“I think I need to bleach my eyeballs after that display,” Emily muttered.

“Ooo-kay!” JJ said, pointedly changing the subject. “It seems like we have most of the pieces to Clue… I think we could manage a game of that. We also have Scrabble, Yahtzee and Snakes and Ladders. Uh… also a pack of cards.”

“At least it’s not chess,” Emily said, thinking about her seemingly endless exam that afternoon.

“Agreed,” Spencer said.

“We do not have chess, no,” JJ said with a quizzical laugh.

———

After ordering a couple of pizzas to the dorm, they all settled in to play a board game. After a few minutes of debate, they decided to play Clue (or Cluedo as Emily continuously referred to it as). The board was laid out: it was vintage, with a teal and yellow colour scheme and some scuffs and rips showing its age. In their blanket fort, they were seated in a circle, all secretly looking at their Clue cards.

“Can I be Professor Plum?” Spencer asked before they had even gotten the pieces out of the box.

“Of course pretty boy,” Derek said, “I’ll take Mr. Green.”

“My sculpted god of thunder looks excellent in green,” Penelope flirted, choosing the white piece for herself.

“Did you know that in the original version of Clue, Mr Green was a Reverend, but they changed his name for American audience because they believed that the American public would object to a parson as a murder suspect?”

“Good thing you’re on our trivia team, Reid,” Hotch replied.

Emily was Miss Scarlet, of course, and was seated right next to JJ, who had chosen to portray Mrs. Peacock. Hotch claimed the remaining piece: Colonel Mustard.

Emily loved board games. Her nanny in France, who was a kindly elderly woman that Emily only knew as “Madame,” would play with her each Sunday after church. She has hazy memories from that time, but the warm glow of sunlight streaming into their Parisian apartment as she learned how to play Cluedo. Emily would always try to cheat, but knew better than to try to do so with her immensely observant girlfriend seated to her left, JJ’s hand resting casually on Emily’s thigh.

She looked at her cards and grinned. She had been dealt her own character, she noted, as Miss Scarlet’s name was printed in bold on the top of her first card. It felt weirdly validating to know that she herself was innocent. Also in her hands were the cards for the candlestick and pistol, as well as the observatory. She marked these off of her card and tried to gauge her opponents' reactions.

JJ was checking her phone with her cards face down, tracking the pizza’s arrival. Spencer was sprawled back, his long legs taking up way more room than was necessary, jotting down notes on some scrap paper. Presumably some statistics and probability for the possibilities of the cards that were sealed in the envelope in the centre of the board. Penelope smiled over at Derek and flirtatiously tried to sneak a peek at his hand.

After the initial rounds being dedicated to moving around the board, Emily finally made it into her first room: the lounge. There, she decided on her first suggestion.

“I suggest,” Emily said, in her most dramatic, formal voice, which was particularly suited to the role of Miss Scarlet, “that Mrs. Peacock committed this heinous crime in the Lounge with-” she hurriedly grabbed the candlestick, “the candlestick!”

She knew that it wasn’t the correct weapon, but using it would narrow it down to someone ruling out either JJ’s character or the lounge as the scene of the crime.

“Moi?!” JJ said, sounding almost offended at the accusation. “Your own girlfriend?!”

Emily grinned evilly at her, but internally she felt giddy. It was the first time she heard JJ use that word in front of their friends. JJ moved her piece into the Lounge. The others chuckled lightly at their antics.

“You have no alibi for the crime, Mrs. Peacock,” Emily said, “and I am merely making a suggestion.”

JJ glared at her, but said nothing. Emily turned to Derek, who was seated at her left.

“What do I do?” Derek asked, looking around the room, slightly confused.

“Do you have any of those cards?” Hotch asked.

“Yeah-” Derek said, moving to show his hand.

“No!” Penelope stopped him. “Just show one of your cards to Emily if you can prove her suggestion was wrong.”

He made an “o” with his mouth and sneakily showed Emily the Lounge card. Emily noted that, and that it was Derek’s card. Mrs. Peacock had yet to be proven innocent, and Emily gave JJ a suspicious glance.

She loved this game.

As the game progressed, Emily noted a few things about her opponents. A part of Emily was profiling her friends subconsciously, reading each of their strategies like a book.

Penelope always seemed to luck out on her dice rolls, covering a lot of terrain and gathering information like it was a cup of tea. But, she seemed to take it personally when someone accused Mrs. White of having killed Mr. Boddy and gasped every time someone made that suggestion.

Hotch seemed to take the game very seriously, and was at it like he was an actual police officer solving crime. But, it didn’t seem that he completely understood all of the rules, and definitely hadn’t played before, so he spent most of his turn grumbling as he skimmed the rule pamphlet.

Spencer, on the other hand, had memorized the rules, common strategies and probabilities of the different outcomes, so Hotch often looked over to him nervously as the boy wrote longhand equations in the notebook that he pulled out of his bag for the very occasion.

Derek also had never played before, and regularly made ‘accusations’ rather than ‘suggestions’ when he entered a room, frustrating Spencer to no end. But, Derek was smart and seemed to be picking it up as he went along. That was until he made the same suggestion twice in a row, both times making Hotch show him the exact same card. He asked Reid endless questions about specific rules, and more than once he made the boy double check in the rule book when Derek tried to make a rather unorthodox move.

JJ seemed to be the only one genuinely trying to have fun. She munched on the Cheetos that she stored in the bottom drawer of her night stand, and made conversation. Her strategy seemed to be exclusively focused on playing the game like it was the 1985 feature film Clue, playing the role of Mrs. Peacock with a fake accent and treating it like an actual murder-filled dinner party.

After a solid twenty minutes of gameplay, the pizza arrived. With minimal grumbling from Hotch, who was apparently on a roll, they took a break to eat.

“Did you see this?” Spencer said with his mouth full, lifting up the copy of the newspaper that he had grabbed earlier.

“Don’t get me started,” JJ grumbled and took a sip of her pop.

“What happened?” Hotch asked, the conversation piquing his interest.

Spencer explained—with the assistance of JJ who apparently knew one of the people involved through soccer—the entire scandal. Apparently, last year there had been very little interest in the leadership roles, so the President of the student government had simply waltzed into his role. He then hired all of his friends, his girlfriend, his roommate, and together they embezzled thousands of dollars of student funds.

“I can’t believe they’re getting away with this,” JJ muttered. “Is there no oversight?”

“It’s always the same,” Emily replied. “Who’s going to oversee them? The college? They’re corrupt too.”

“This sucks,” Derek said. “Wish someone good would run for government, for once.”

Emily shook her head in frustration. It all just reminded her of her childhood. Embezzlement, corruption and nepotism all were casual topics discussed over family dinner in her home. She had higher hopes for students her own age, would they not break the cycle? Or was it just a microcosm of the outside world?

“You should run Mr. Lawyer Man,” Penelope teased Hotch. “You could take any of these clowns.”

Hotch raised an eyebrow at her and went back to his pizza, brushing her off. Emily smiled at him. Penelope was right, he might actually do a good job if he set his mind to it.

The people that surrounded her now were nothing like her mother’s friends—or the kids she had been forced to hang out with when she was younger—they were genuinely kind, supportive, and seemed to like Emily for Emily. When she told them she was an ambassador’s daughter, they had been more concerned with the cool places that she had been able to travel to than whatever power she had. At college, Emily finally exhaled fully, slowly relaxing more and more into herself.

But, the topic of politics always set her on edge, especially since the semester was ending soon. Her mother had already begun to leave her voicemails about the galas, fundraisers and events that she was required to attend over Christmas break. She pushed thoughts of the future aside and focused on the warmth that surrounded her. With some music playing softly (a song that JJ liked by Vampire Weekend), the softness of blankets under her, and JJ leaning on her slightly as she ate her dinner, Emily felt at peace. She knew she could handle winter break, because she knew that these friends would be here when she came back.

After years of leaving a school midway through the year only to show up to some new boarding school or international school each time her mom was reassigned, Emily never had a chance to put down roots. But, with each bite of pizza, Emily felt herself becoming even more firmly rooted. Not to this place, but to these people as their lives became more entwined.

Once dinner was over, the game continued, and thoughts of politics left their minds. By then, Emily narrowed it down to the weapon (the candlestick), two rooms (the kitchen and the billiard room) and she was pretty sure that it was Colonel Mustard that had committed the crime.

She had a decision to make: walk all the way from the study to the billiard room, or risk being wrong by making an accusation. She was pretty sure both Hotch and Reid were on the right track, as the younger boy’s scribbling in his notebook had gotten even more intense and the older boy was beginning to look around suspiciously, as if the others were trying to read his notes.

She had pretty much ruled out Penelope, JJ and Derek as competitors, as the trio spent most of the time talking, and genuinely trying to have fun. Emily, Reid and Hotch were all way too into it, but Emily was competitive and this was her game. She wasn’t going to lose to Hotch, no way. Reid winning she could blame on his boy-genius nature, but Emily decided that Hotch was going down.

The two boys seemed to have come to the same conclusion, all eyeing each other across the board, the tension palatable between them as their competition became heated.

She nervously tried to move to the billiards room, deciding to play it safe. Better safe than disqualified. But, as soon as she made that decision, she regretted it as Spencer straightened up on his turn and said: “I’d like to make my accusation.”

“Write it down,” JJ prompted, as per the rules. He jotted it down in his paper.

Then, with bated breath, they watched as he grabbed the envelope out of the centre of the board, and read the cards. His face fell when he saw one of the cards, so he must have been wrong. He placed them back into their envelope and back onto the board.

“No dice?” Emily asked.

He shook his head.

“Statistically speaking that should have been right,” he grumbled. “My math was wrong.”

“Boy genius isn’t a good detective, huh?” Penelope mused.

A few turns went by, with Derek, Penelope, and JJ moving around the board or making suggestions.

Emily rolled the dice, making one square from a room. She sighed. She’d make a suggestion next round.

On Hotch’s next turn, he made an accusation, which he wrote down on a pink sticky note that Penelope had handed out when the game started. He checked the envelope.

Emily held her breath. She was sure he had it and that the game was over. She should just call it quits now. She went to bite her nails out of stress, but stopped herself, they were starting to get long and she wanted them to look nice.

A moment passed as Hotch compared his cards. After he saw the third card in the envelope, his expression revealed that was also wrong.

Boys, Emily thought. Always so overconfident.

She made a suggestion instead of risking it: “Miss Scarlet—er myself I guess— in the Billiards Room with the pistol.”

It was a gamble. If she was right, and the people who knew she had her own card and the pistol caught on, they would also know that it was the Billiard Room, because no one would be able to disprove her theory. If she was wrong, someone would have the card for that room, and she would know that the crime occured in the Kitchen.

The second seemed to be true, as Derek showed her his card with a small illustrated image of the Billiard Room on it. She was right. She knew what it was. But, she would have to wait until her next turn. She was going to win.

But, it was she who was overconfident, because as she was too busy preemptively celebrating her win, Derek casually made his accusation.

“Hey I’m right!” he exclaimed, holding up the cards and his own hot pink sticky note.

In his semi-cursive scrawl read: “Colonel Mustard, Candlestick, Kitchen.” These guesses matched the cards hidden in the envelope, and Emily’s own deduction that she planned to make on her own turn.

“You guys really thought I hadn’t played this game before?” Derek laughed. “I’ve got two sisters, board games were everything.”

“Were you hustling us, Morgan?” Spencer demanded.

He smirked.

“Should’ve put money on the outcome,” Derek said with a laugh. “I’d be rich.”

Emily threw her cards onto the table in defeat. JJ shot her an empathetic look, and Emily tried to stuff her frustration down to pat her friend on the back for the surprising win. He deserved it.

———

After the game concluded and the pizza had been completely eaten, the group parted ways, heading to bed, or for more midnight snacks or to finish up some studying, leaving JJ and Emily alone and to start? a game of Scrabble.

The board was ancient, and quite a few letters were missing, but with music droning on JJ’s laptop, and the soft fairy lights overhead, neither girl minded too much.

Emily looked at her letters: O, B, S, O, T, B, W and thought hard, rearranging the wooden pieces to try and formulate a word. After a long day of academia, and investing so heavily into the game of Clue, she probably had only one or two working brain cells and both were telling her to play the word ‘boobs.’

Her eyes flicked to her girlfriend, who looked absolutely gorgeous in the warm light. Her blonde hair almost glowed, and she had an adorable expression on her face. Emily couldn’t help but glance lower, thinking about the real world examples of her Scrabble word.

She played the word with a cheeky grin.

“‘Boobs,’ Emily?” JJ scolded. “Really?”

She sounded angry, but there was a hint of a smile tugging at her cheeks and Emily could tell the girl found it funny.

“I can’t help it,” Emily said. “I haven’t thought of much else since last weekend.”

She raised and lowered her eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, making JJ laugh and kick her lightly in protest.

JJ then played the word ‘throw,’ using the ‘o’ from ‘boobs’ to form her word, earning her thirteen points.

“I don’t think you can throw boobs, babe,” Emily said. “They’re usually attached.”

JJ rolled her eyes.

Emily made it her mission to find the funniest words possible, working extra hard (and missing out on some good points) in an effort to make JJ laugh. ‘Armpit,’ ‘meaty,’ ‘hoagie,’ ‘urine,’ ‘joint’ and her piece de resistance: ‘boner.’ All while JJ was playing incredibly normal, and often strategic words like ‘axis,’ ‘snow,’ ‘vain,’ ‘snag’ and ‘writings,’ hitting multiple double- and triple word scores on the way.

“This is fun,” Emily said, sneaking a handful of JJ’s Cheetos out of the family-sized bag next to the blonde, while she was distracted by playing her turn.

“I don’t understand how you’re winning,” JJ muttered.

Emily shrugged, “Guess I’m just a genius.”

“Reid? Is that you?” JJ joked. “Why are you disguised as my girlfriend?”

“Would Reid do this?” Emily said, leaning over toward her girlfriend and pressing kisses all over her face until she fell back. Then Emily straddled her, their lips meeting in a passionate embrace that left both girls panting.

“I would hope not!” JJ exclaimed with a laugh, making a face at the thought.

They laughed and went back to making out, with Emily careful not to disturb the game pieces. JJ sucked onto Emily’s bottom lip, making her weak in the knees and she struggled to support herself over JJ’s shorter frame at the motion.

“We should-” Emily tried to say between kisses, “finish the game.”

JJ kept deepening the kiss, going so far as to grab onto Emily’s butt to hold her in place on top of her.

“You’re trying to distract me,” Emily chided, “because I’m winning! I see right through your plot.”

She sat up and went back to her tiles before playing another funny word: ‘suck’ for twenty points. JJ grumbled,fiddling with her own tiles, as Emily collected a few out of the bag.

Emily was preening as she rearranged her own tiles and didn’t notice as JJ put down her word. When she went to play her next word (‘zap’) and only then did she see what word JJ played.

‘Love.’

It was there. Clear as day. Written vertically and connected to the word ‘snow,’ it was unmistakable. Emily looked at it for a long moment, trying to figure out what it could possibly mean that her girlfriend very intentionally played such a loaded word. Was it the only word that fit? Did she only mean that she loved the snow? Was she also reading into it?

Emily looked up, making eye contact with JJ. The blonde blushed and looked away, nervously fiddling with the necklace around her neck. Emily smiled faintly at the warmth that flooded through her, but alongside that, was the sharp pang of anxiety. Was she supposed to acknowledge that? Would that make it weird?

‘Zap’ didn’t feel appropriate when her girlfriend may or may not have confessed her love for her.

She played it anyway, deciding that making a big deal of it would just complicate matters. Besides, did she love JJ? She didn’t know. It was all so new. She liked JJ a lot. She definitely like-liked her in the traditional sense of the world. But Emily had never been in love before. She’d loved people before, Matthew for one, and her mother in a way, and she loved Derek like a brother. But being in love was a whole ‘nother ball game.

JJ won the game after playing ‘equinox’ for twenty two points near the end, beating any lead Emily had gained from her silly words. JJ deserved it in the end, as the blonde would sit and stare at her letters until they formed the most complex words that Emily had never even heard of. Emily’s eyes drooped and she was barely able to create three letter words by the end, while JJ was still surprising her with her vocabulary.

Emily shook JJ’s hand to congratulate her for the win. JJ grinned and kissed her.

Then, they looked around and realized two things: it was past one in the morning and Penelope hadn’t come back to the room yet and that all of the blankets that JJ owned were currently being used in the blanket fort.

“Can we sleep in my bed, tonight?” Emily asked. “I’ll help you clean up in the morning.”

JJ nodded but was in the middle of texting Penelope, wondering where on earth her roommate had wandered off to. Within a minute she got back to JJ saying: with derek! will explain tmrw!! 😘 🧚‍♀️ 😳

JJ showed Emily the message and both girls giggled. Emily saw that coming, but didn’t realize it would be a game of Clue that finally sealed the deal.

Exhausted but happy and relaxed after the game night, Emily and JJ tumbled into Emily’s bed and cuddled up together. Between JJ and Emily, the word ‘love’ was left unsaid that night, but Emily fell asleep that night feeling a new warmth in her chest.

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fictionalnormalcy · 3 years ago

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TBWASN Ch. 13

The Boy with a Strange Name

Rating: Mature (Graphic Depictions of Violence)

Fandoms: Fusion of the How to Train Your Dragon books and animated franchise

Additional Tags: jaded protagonist, modern day AU, moving somewhere new, fitting in, making friends, additional DreamWorks characters, back to hometown

Summary: Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III has lived nearly seventeen years of life. In the span of those years, he’s moved twelve times. Five of those years his mother was alive. Then a tragic accident left Hiccup in the sole care of his father, Stoick Haddock. Berk was where he had been born. That much he knew. Over every, single, move his father put him through, it wasn’t until he reached sixteen years old that Berk was the city in which the father finally decided to plant roots. At least, that was what he claimed. After years of being victimized at each school he attended, Hiccup was determined to keep a low profile at Berk High. His past is intent on preying upon him, deciding that Berk was perfect place to come back into the light. However, like all good things that came to him, there was always something to drag him back down into the pit of despair. A dormant secret, tied into his family history, was ultimately brought into the light when Hiccup settles on Berk. A secret tied with guilt and tears, and it all goes downhill from there. He discovered what his father truly did those long stretch of years, and finds he has a gift that had been nonexistent for centuries.

Ch. 13: Choosing to Speak

He saw Fishlegs sit down at the table across the room, noticing Astrid almost immediately strike up a conversation. Had it been her idea from the beginning for one of her friends to talk to Hiccup? He arranged his chicken strips on one side of the plate, then made sure to pour another packet of ketchup into the container. He was already envisioning the day over, when he would walk through the comfortable chill. He just hoped that today they wouldn't pay attention like they had yesterday. He still had about 26 decans left, and knew his father would be giving him 30 more the next week.

He plugged the straw into the cranberry juice box and took a long quiet sip. His attention was caught by the two boys, the bespectacled boy pointed at a table about 3 meters away from them. He looked where he had pointed, and could see that Dustin was watching the boys with a growing smirk.

"Can't he give us a break at least once?"

"If we try to stop him, he'll only try to hurt us even more. I for one, am not looking forward to more bruises." The red-haired boy sighed.

"Stare him down. If you purposely avert his gaze it's letting him know you're afraid of him, thus making him get up and come over here." Hiccup commented.

"Won't that provoke him?" The brunette frowned.

"Trust me. Try it, and soon enough he'll lose nerve."

Hiccup felt tempted to turn and wave at Dustin, but he knew that he still shared his own problems with the 12th year. He saw how they stared at him, but one of them was beginning to tremble. But when he turned back to see if Dogsbreath had stood from his table to walk over, he saw that he was shaking his head and digging his fork into his pot pie.

"How did you know that would work?" The red-haired boy asked accusingly.

Was it safe to admit it to them? They were in the same boat that he was. It was because of Dustin, that the red-haired boy had the bruise on his jaw.

"I've dealt with enough bullies to know how to discourage them."

"That seems more a question of confidence then knowing how to chase off bullies."

"Well you won't exactly be able to fight him, right? You're pegged as the weak link, and he targets you to keep you in that box." Hiccup cast him a pointed look.

The red-haired boy crossed his arms. "I guess you have a point. Hiccup Haddock is it? You're a third?"

"Right." Hiccup replied, masking his shock at how the younger boy knew his name.

"Do you know who he is?" The bespectacled boy made a gesture toward the bully across the room.

"Vaguely. Had a go at me in the hallway just a few minutes ago."

"And you fought him off?"

"Not exactly. Just stalled until a teacher came."

"He does tend to lose nerve when he knows an adult is watching." The red-haired said with a nod of the head. "I'd like to introduce myself. My name is Hamish Hensley."

"I'm Orrick Bloomfield. It's nice to meet you Hiccup." The boy pushed his glasses up his nose.

It was always him first. He would always have to introduce himself before anyone else would. Why would Berk be different? Who the heck was spreading his name across the school population? Next thing he knew, there would be random people in the street calling him by name. Only two people had insulted his name so far. Once anyone would find out he was a Haddock, he would be praised or seen with a different point of view. On Berk, a Haddock was important. But on the mainland, the name was all but insignificant.

"Why would he go after you?" Hamish drummed his spoon on the side of the plastic bowl.

"You act as if I would know." Hiccup rolled his eyes, taking a bite of a chicken strip.

Keep reading

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starlightinhumanform · 5 years ago

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Midas

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Ship: Romantic Loceit, Background Platonic Logincality

Summary: Greek myth tells of King Midas who could turn anything he touched to gold. Damian hates New Years but when his friends drag him to a party, he meets a man makes everything around him just a little better.

Warnings (in order of strength): A lot of drinking/alcohol mentions/partying (none underage), Mild language throughout, (please tell me if anything needs to be added)

Genre: Fluff, Mild Angst with a happy ending, Human (college) AU

A/N: Deceit’s name is Damian in this fic :) ALSO I know there’s quite a few younger kids in this fandom and if you’re reading this (first of all, hi I love you) please please PLEASE do not take this fic as an inspiration to abuse alcohol. Underaged drinking/partying can be extremely dangerous. Ok enough being serious!! I hope you enjoy! Love you all 🖤✨

Ao3 Link Fic Masterpost Fic Request Info

Damian wasn’t a fan of New Years. It shouldn’t mean anything- he knew that. It was just another random day; the fact that people liked to put special significance on it didn’t actually do anything.

But all the talk of new times got into his head, made him think. It made him think about how many things had changed- the friends he had lost, the goals he had once held dear now thrown away. It made him think about how little he had grown- the bitterness he held onto, the stagnation that had settled across him. He was in his third year of grad-school; soon he would be shoved out into the real world with no academic purpose to shelter him.

“New Year, New Me.” Damian didn’t even know who he was.

If there was one thing he hated more than New Years, it was New Years parties. He would go so far as to say the things were the bane of his existence. The music was bad, people got loud and overly exuberant, and strobe lights were used were used far more than ever reasonable. Alcohol always floated around with disturbing prevalence. He hated how fuzzy it made his head- throwing off his balance and slowing his thoughts- but at least it made the party easier to handle.

Damian threw back a shot of cheap, bight blue tequila and winced as it hit the back of his throat. Disgusting. Just because he was trying to get drunk didn’t mean he lacked class.

He set the glass down on a table behind him so he could pretend he hadn’t touched the repulsive thing. He was sitting on a sofa tucked against the back corner of a living room in a house he had never been to before. Next to him, someone was already passed out. They would be starting their new year with a killer hangover.

Across the room, he could see the friends who had dragged him to the houseparty. Roman and Patton were dancing in a crowd of other students, broad grins painted across both of their faces. At least they were happy.

A young man weaved his way through the crowd and threw himself onto the sofa next to Damian with a mixture of disdain and defeat. Damian had seen him around a few times; they had a philosophy class together the last semester. What was his name? Lucas? Landon? Bradon?

“Hey,” Lu-nd-on elbowed him in the side, “You want some champagne?”

Damian raised an eyebrow as he turned to face the man, “Excuse me?”

He pulled a bottle of champagne from somewhere in his coat. The gold foil at the top was already ripped away and he popped the cork off with ease, taking a swig before offering it.

Damian tried not to stare incredulously, but it was a difficult task when his brain was short-circuiting, “Did you just drink out of a champagne bottle like it was a beer?”

“Sure. Why not.”

Damian reached out hesitantly to take the bottle. He was beginning to doubt that this actually was the guy he had shared a class with. That one looked like the type who wouldn’t have been caught dead at a party. The only similarity was the way they dressed- round wireframe glasses, a corduroy jacket over a black button down, and black skinny jeans. His hair- dark brown and pulled into a long ponytail- was the same too.

“Did- did we have a class together?” He took a drink. It was good- expensively good.

“Historical philosophy. You probably don’t remember me- my name’s Logan. You’re Damian, right?”

“Yep. I hear I’m kind of hard to forget,” Damian waved his hand at the dark red birthmark that stretched messily across the left side of his face.

“No. Well, yes. That is, I remember you for a different reason.”

Logan stared at him like he was supposed to understand what that meant. Damian stared back, hoping to convey the fact that he, in no way, understood what was going on.

“So, uh,” Damian searched for something to keep the conversation going, “can I ask about the champagne?”

“You’re asking why I have it?”

Damian nodded, “I am, yeah. Also why you pulled it out of your jacket?”

“As for the first question: people seem to have made a tradition out of getting wasted on New Years Eve and I decided to join them this year.”

Damian had never heard someone speak so matter of factly about getting drunk. He shook his head, laughing, “So you bought an entire bottle of champagne? There are easier methods, you know that right?”

“If you’re referring to the blue monstrosity everyone keeps offering, please know that I’m not a heathen.”

“Oh, so you tried one of those awful things too?”

Logan rolled his eyes with a ruthful smile, “I may have made that mistake.”

Damian handed the bottle back to Logan who took another drink before locking his gaze on Damian’s eyes. He stared like there was a problem in them and he just couldn’t figure out how to solve it. Damian was used to people staring, but not like this. Usually, they would take one look at him and their eyes would glaze over. Whatever the conversation might be, they would always be partially focused on the splatters some god had painted on his face long before he had a say in the matter. It wasn’t that Damian disliked his birthmark. He just hated the way people always saw it instead of him.

But Logan. He was looking at him. Into him, through him. He had no idea what to do with that.

Damian laughed nervously, “What are you looking at?”

Logan cleared his throat and stared out into the crowd, “Anyways I had it in my jacket because these people are all animals and I’d prefer they didn’t rob me of my 35 dollar champagne.”

Logan had handed him the bottle back and Damian choked on the mouthful he had been trying to drink, “I’m sorry, what? So let me get this right: you bought a champagne bottle which is worth more than I usually spend on food for a week. And now you are sharing it with me of all people?”

“Why not you of all people?”

Logan was staring at him again like answers to all of these riddles were obvious.

Damian blinked back, feeling more lost than he had in years. Even that stupid Advanced Geometry course he had decided to take in his freshman year hadn’t screwed him over this badly. Maybe the alcohol was finally getting to him. It would explain why he couldn’t hold a single coherent thought and why he was so hypnotized by the pale freckles that dusted Logan’s nose and cheekbones. They were so light they nearly melted into his skin and seemed to be phasing in and out off existence as the dim lighting played against Logan’s face. He had never noticed them before. Then again, he had never gotten this close before. It was a shame; Logan was mesmerizing. Damian wished he could get closer.

“So what are you going to do after we get out of here?”

It took Damian a moment to realize Logan was asking about a career and not what he would be doing after the party once they left- apparently together. That would have been strange; it was weird his brain even jumped to that conclusion. Maybe he should stop drinking that damn champagne.

He sighed as his mind returned to the actual question. He wanted to make something up, hide behind a lie of certainty and determination. But it was too much work to weave that fabrication together. Especially on the spot. Especially with how his head was feeling. Especially in front of Logan. He hung his head, “Honestly I have no clue. I’ve always been interested in social sciences but beyond that... no plan, no clue.”

A beat of silence played out between them.

“So what about you?” The forced brightness in his voice tasted fake and bitter in his mouth.

“I want to teach sciences,” Logan’s eyes glittered.

“A college professor, huh? I could definitely see it,” Logan handed him the bottle and Damian threw yet another swallow back. Didn’t he say he was going to stop?

“High school level, actually.”

“Really? That doesn’t seem-“ Damian pointed at the champagne bottle in an attempt to remind Logan of what a bougie, extra bitch he was, “ -sophisticated enough for you.”

Logan shrugged, “I kind of have a fascination with high schoolers-“

“Ok, that’s creepy.”

“Not like that! I mean the culture, the slang, the way it’s its own little society interacting within a larger one!” Logan’s face had split into a grin as he talked, waving his hands excitedly.

Damian didn’t even resist urge to smile back. Seeing Logan like this, well, there was something contagious about it. He couldn’t help but feel slightly in awe of the passion he saw in Logan, “You really like this stuff, don’t you?”

Logan nodded vigorously, “Do you know the new word high schoolers today have invented and are using?”

“Hmm?” Damian prompted. Anything to keep Logan talking like this. Damian wasn’t sure why he wanted to keep Logan talking. It had something to do with the way warmth was spreading out from his core in a way that was far gentler than anything drinks could do.

“Yeet.”

In the adjoining room Damian could see two groups standing on opposite tables chanting “Yeet, Yeet, Yeet, Yeet” as they tossed a smaller student (who looked like they were having the time of their life) back and forth.

“Uhh, I think college kids use that too,” Damian didn’t want to burst Logan’s bubble but he felt like he was losing his mind. At any moment he was going to start cackling.

Logan paused, giving him a pointed stare, “Maybe you do.”

Damian broke. He collapsed forward, glad he had handed the bottle back as he wrapped his arms around his shaking body. He could hardly breathe but he couldn’t stop laughing either. His head was light and buzzing warmly. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling, but as tears started streaming out of his eyes, he knew he was officially drunk. Who gave a shit? That had been his goal, right?

He fell all the way down, letting his head land on Logan’s knee. He still couldn’t stop laughing even though it had developed solely into wheezes at that point.

Damian felt a hesitant hand tap on his back before actually settling there, “Are you ok?”

Damian sat up and wiped away the tears that had gathered at the corners of his eyes, “Bro, you’re so judgmental.”

Logan’s face shifted from concern into a scowl, “Oh. Sorry.”

The heavy bass of whatever song was playing took over the space between them. Damian kept thinking about destroying that gap. All he would have to do would be lean over, rest himself against Logan, maybe fall asleep. Maybe it was the overpriced buzz in his head talking, but he felt safe around Logan.

Out of the blue, Logan stood up, adjusting the hem of his jacket as he turned to face Damian, “Well, I won’t be bothering you anymore. Maybe I’ll see you around campus sometime. You can finish that if you want.”

Damian looked down by his feet where Logan was pointing to the champagne bottle, “Wait, I don’t understand. You’re leaving? Where?”

Logan glanced around, looking anywhere but Damian’s face. Damian was used to that but this felt different. Logan was different. At least under usual circumstances, he knew why people so adamantly refused to acknowledge his existence. He made them uncomfortable; he didn’t like it, but he got it. Here, he was absolutely clueless.

Logan finally managed to make eye contact. He was trying for a smile but as an expert liar, Damian could see straight through to the grimace beneath, “Oh, I’m sure I’ll find someone else who will tolerate my presence for a few moments.”

“Hey,” Damian acted on impulse. After all, Logan’s hand was just hanging there. It was far too empty. And at the moment, reaching forward to grab Logan’s wrist was Damian’s only way to insure that Logan wouldn’t walk away. He knew Logan was a smart guy and would probably see his honeyed whines as deception, but he had to try, “You’re really just going to get me drunk and then ditch me? Who knows what could happen?”

Logan’s eyebrows creased but he didn’t say anything. He looked like he was in pain, eyes sharp and teeth clenched behind a grimace. It was enough to make Damian drop his hand.

“Logan, it’s entirely your choice but if you would like to stay with me, I would enjoy that very much,” Truth wasn’t his strong suit, but he figured it was worth a try.

Logan squinted at him, confused or at least doubtful, “I thought you disliked my judgmental attitude.”

Damian groaned, “Dude... I didn’t mean it like that. I thought it was funny. I think you’re funny.”

“Oh,” Logan looked like he was having a hard time processing Damian’s words. It made him wonder just how many of those tequila shots Logan had thrown back before walking over. He had to be drunk. It was the only way to explain why he was acting so strange.

Damian reached out again and slowly pulled Logan back. He was hesitant but didn’t resist. Logan sat down next to Damian as if he didn’t understand his own actions. His eyes picked Damian apart like he was looking for the fine print.

“You’re sure you don’t mind me?” Logan’s expression was completely open. He was looking for the truth and Damian didn’t think he’d be able to lie if he wanted to. It was a good thing he didn’t need to.

He smiled, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

“Oh. Ok,” Logan settled back into the couch but his eyebrows were still weaved together. Apparently his programs finished running because he suddenly turned to Damian, grinning brightly, “I’m glad.”

Damian smiled back. He was happy to see Logan with that sparkle back, if a little confused as to how he had caused it, “You’re glad... I don’t mind you?”

Logan nodded, “Some people think I’m a little strange.”

“Yeah, I get that,” Damian winced and tried to rush out his next words, “Not, like, I think you’re strange- I think you’re really cool. I just mean people think I’m strange too.”

Damian swore he could map constellations in the stars floating in Logan’s eyes, “You think I’m cool?”

He shrugged, “I mean, yeah. You always seem to have it all together and you have determination and goals and it’s so obvious that you’re going to reach them. That passion is rare to see any more. I mean, I don’t have any of that. You don’t know how much I looked up to you in that class.”

Logan blinked at him like a deer in headlights for a moment before he began frowning, “But you’re incorrect.”

Damian looked up from where had been trying to see how much champagne was left in the bottle, “What do you mean?”

“You obviously have passion. You always had points to bring up during discussions and it was clear you had deep interest in the topics. You don’t know how in awe of you I was. You always found the least likely angle to take and still managed to make a convincing argument,” Logan took the bottle out of Damian’s frozen hands and took a drink, “It was art.”

Damian opened his mouth but all memory of speech had escape him. He looked away, trying to find something safe to stare at while he tried to gather his thoughts. His head was full of fragments, dulled glass shards that floated through fog and bumped against the edges of his mind. It hurt to try to put them all back together into one piece.

So Logan had noticed him in that class. And had remembered him; quite clearly it seemed. Except the way he was talking... nobody had ever spoken to Damian that way before. He was tempted to ask Logan if he had mistaken him for someone else.

He found his eyes wandering down to the space between them. More accurately, he was staring at how little space there was between them. When Logan had sat down the second time, he had done so right next to Damian. Like, right next to him. Now their legs were pressed together, hips and knees bumping together every time one of them shifted. Damian marveled at the fact that he hadn’t noticed before.

“Damian?” He looked up into Logan’s concerned face. God, they were so close, “Are you ok? Your eyes kinda glazed over.”

Damian laughed. It sounded breathy and far away, “Yeah, I’m good.”

From another room, someone started yelling, “LAST 15 MINUTES OF THE YEAR!!”

Logan squinted down at his watch before glaring in the direction of the voice, “There’s only five minutes left.”

Damian chuckled, watching the lines of Logan’s frown as he grimaced at the sea of people around them. There was something endearing about the blunt disdain Logan had for the idiots around them. It was nice to know he didn’t fit into that group, that he had- by some miracle- managed to fit into Logan’s bubble.

“So... you usually celebrate New Years like this?” Logan had suddenly become quite fidgety, wringing his hands in his lap. Damian tried to ignore it. He was having a hard enough time working on his own thoughts; he couldn’t even begin picking apart Logan’s thoughts.

Damian shook his head, “You mean a party? Nah, I usually don’t even celebrate. What about you?”

“Same. I don’t generally go to parties at all.”

Ah, so Damian’s original impression had been correct, “So what are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Logan deftly avoided the question with a smirk. Damn, he was good at this.

Damian rolled his eyes, “Some friends dragged me here. Now you tell me what a straight-laced nerd like you is doing in a place like this.”

Logan snorted, “Don’t remember the last time anyone described me as straight- anything.”

“What?”

Damian wanted to shake his head like a dog getting out of water. Maybe then, the pieces would fall into some sort of pattern he could recognize. So Logan wasn’t straight. Why did that make him so happy?

He ran his hands through his hair and tried to gain some composure, “Ok, so what is someone like you doing in a place like this?”

Logan looked out across the crowd, his mouth a tight line. On the other side of the room someone took a running start and flung themselves on a pool table that had currently been in use. The thing cracked in half.

“I was-,” Logan paused, hands tapping quickly against his leg, “-convinced.”

Damian raised an eyebrow, “I’ve never heard someone talk so ominously about going to a party; what is that even supposed to mean?”

Logan winced. His hands were doing full cardio now, clenching into fists over and over again, “I was told someone was going to be here. I just really wanted the chance to talk to him again.”

“But you’ve only talked to me.”

“Yes,” Logan gave him that stare again like Come on, dude, the puzzle pieces are right there- just put them together. He rubbed his eyes in his hands, “Maybe this was a mistake. I didn’t mean to get you drunk. I thought you’d still be able to figure out-“

Click.

Damian’s mouth fell, “Wait, I’m the one you wanted to talk to?”

Logan gave him a small smile. It was the first time Damian had seen him look unsure of himself, “Well, yeah.”

“Oh,” Damian’s head was swimming. He could have blamed it on the champagne or how late it was or the way the lighting had began strobing, flickering between bright neon shades. But he knew that wasn’t it. He couldn’t lie this time- not even to himself.

Logan’s eyes were wide, staring into Damian. Not into his eyes- him. It was unnerving in the best way possible. The shifting light played across his irises, making them every colour of the rainbow.

“Is that ok?”

Logan’s voice startled him back to the present. He had leaned forward, supposedly to be heard above the shouting that had started. Amongst all of the raised voices, Logan’s had only gotten lower. His breath played against Damian’s ear.

Damian looked up, startled slightly but smiling, “Yeah, yeah, that’s good. That’s great.”

Logan smiled, “Yeah? Great?”

He was definitely leaning forward.

Damian huffed out a sigh but smiled even wider, “Shut up. I’m pretty sure you’re drunk.”

Logan scoffed, “And you’re not? You’re a total lightweight.”

“Shut up.”

“TEN!”

The entire house shook as the ridiculous number of students began screaming in unison

“You know, it’s also tradition to kiss someone on New Years,” Logan looked infuriatingly smug.

“NINE!”

Damian usually hated this part, everyone around him creating one huge voice- everyone but him.

Damian raised an eyebrow, “Are you asking to kiss me?”

“EIGHT!”

What he always hated most was the way the entire world seemed to be celebrating- without him. The whole damn planet filled with joy for one tiny moment and he could never figure out why.

Logan smiled like the Cheshire Cat- except the Cheshire Cat had just won the lottery, “Maybe.”

“SEVEN!”

At this point, his heart rate usually would have been spiking, feeling the pressure of “new opportunities” pressing all their expectant eyes on him.

Damian laughed, “Did you come over to talk to me just so you could get a kiss tonight?”

“SIX!”

There was always a part of Damian that would scorn him for not being happy, question why he had turned out to be such a sad, useless lump while everyone else was happily looking forward to the future.

“No,” Logan set his jaw like a stubborn toddler, “I came over here to talk to you so I could get a kiss from you tonight.”

“FIVE!”

No matter what he did, the New Year would plague him. His whole apartment complex would rattle as chanting counted down. The first hours of the year would often find Damian wandering through empty streets, desperate to escape the celebration.

Logan slid his hand onto Damian’s knee, “So can I? Kiss you?”

“FOUR!”

The whole event was just one monstrous reminder. It was an ugly mar on the calendar that whispered Look at all the things you’ve ruined. Look at how far you’ve fallen. Look at how little your future holds.

Damian nodded dumbly. His heart was pounding in his ears.

“THREE!”

New Year made him think of his parents. He always put on a bright mask for them, feeding them lies of empty aspirations and opportunities that didn’t exist. How would they feel to know their son was barreling headfirst into a dead end?

Damian was learning he didn’t need alcohol; Logan was intoxicating enough. The shine in his eyes, the self-satisfied tug to his lips, the way he kept getting closer and closer- it made Damian’s thoughts slow to a halt and everything around him lose focus.

“TWO!”

Every year, the day after would be exactly like the day before. Everyone else seemed to be determined to make themselves better. As much as he searched, Damian could never find the ways to change. New Years was usually taunting, reminding him that he would always be broken and would never be able to fix himself.

Logan’s hands played across his chest, smoothed over his shoulder, ran through his hair. His eyes found Damian’s soul. Damian couldn’t remember how to breathe.

“ONE!!”

Damian had always hated New Years.

Logan leaned all the way forward and his lips were on Damian’s. It was deeper than Damian was expecting, both of their mouths slightly open. Logan kept surging forward with his whole body, destroying the few inches left between them. Damian happily followed his lead, mindlessly falling into synchronous rhythm as Logan kept moving his lips. Except it wasn’t just his lips; Logan kissed with his whole body. He leaned against Damian and his hands were always roaming, leaving little touches as they danced over Damian’s body.

Sure, Damian had kissed other guys before. But he was pretty sure this was the first time anyone had kissed him.

One of Logan’s hands found its way to Damian’s face. His fingers tapped lightly across his birthmark. Damian remembered the kids who stared without shame, the eyes that would dart away as soon as they saw him, the way he could never hold a conversation without his birthmark joining as an unwanted guest star. Logan hadn’t done any of that. Damian had no words to describe what that man was but he liked it.

Damian broke away, completely out of breath. He had no idea how long they had been kissing- it could have been hours for all he knew- but his lungs didn’t have the same luxury of losing track.

Logan’s chest was heaving as it pressed against Damian’s side. His eyes were wide and glazed, staring a million miles away.

“Hey, Logan?”

Logan’s eyes regained their sharp focus. He smiled brightly, “I’ve been wanting to do that for a while now.”

“You’re a dork. But really,” Damian sighed, “thank you.”

Logan gave him a puzzled smile, “What for?”

“I’m pretty sure this is the first New Year I’ve ever actually enjoyed,” Damian snuggled himself closer to Logan, smiling when he felt an arm wrap around his shoulders.

Logan spoke with measured, careful words, “If you like, we could, you know, make our own New Years tradition out of this.”

Damian could feel his eyelids falling and rising every time he blinked like the great velvet currents of a theatre. They were heavy and he was warm and his head was a vague haze. He yawned widely and wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist, “I don’t think we have to wait until New Year to do this again.”

He fell asleep listening to Logan stuttering out some happy response. Maybe New Years wasn’t so bad.

If you want to be added to my Sanders Sides fic taglist just send me an ask or reply to this post :p

~ @phan-fander @abi-beehive ~

#loceit #loceit fluff #loceit angst #loceit fic #loceit human au #loceit fanfic #loceit fanfiction #logan x deceit #deceit x logan #sympathetic deceit #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #sanders sides fic #sanders sides human au #sanders side college au #ts logan #ts deceit #romantic loceit #starlight writes

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the-sweetest-dragon · 5 years ago

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A Summer Like Never Before

- A Summer Job AU - no Pennywise - Georgie is still alive - Mostly tomfoolery -

Fandom: It

Characters: Bev, Richie, Eddie, Ben, Mike, Stan, Bill

Ships: Eventual Reddie, Benverly, Stan x Patty

Word Count: 1379

Warnings: Out of character behavior

AN: It’s Thursday my dudes! I hope everyone is enjoying these chapters because I’m really enjoying writing them. Updates every Thursday, let me know if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

Tags: @just-another-shipper-01 @nerdsarebetter @audder17 @sapphic-bottlexap @mmarclac

Chapter One Chapter Two

____________________________________________

Chapter Three

Beverly Marsh has had enough of Richie Tozier’s silly crush on their friend Eddie Kaspbrak. Currently, he’s blasting “Eddie My Love” for the third time today. What’s worse is that he’s slow dancing with a container of mustard like it was his lost love.

“Richie could you please fill the damn mustards and stop pretending it’s Eddie.” Bev stands at the long counter, marrying ketchups while the diner was slow. Richie had done… well, nothing but dance around with Mustard-Eddie and refill the ice machine.

Richie pouts at her words and sets down his mustard boyfriend. The song finally changes into some 90’s music that Richie can’t dance to.

“Must you ruin all my fun? First I can’t make mom jokes at work and now I can’t-” Richie suddenly cuts off and rushes to fix his hair. Bev looks over at the door and grins. His favorite customer is walking towards the door, Ben Hanscome in tow.

Bev watches as Eddie opens the door and waves at them. Bev glances towards Richie; his eyes are crinkled shut by the force of his smile. Then, she turns her attention to Eddie, who’s explaining something to Ben. She can tell by his hand movements that Ben doesn’t necessarily agree.

Richie waltzes over to their booth while Bev shakes her head. That boy had it bad; he hated waiting on people their own age but he always made an exception for Eddie.

Bev moves on to refill the salt and pepper shakers, and to listen in on their conversation.

“- can I get ya?” asks Richie in a Southern accent. Eddie heaves a sigh before ordering his usual. “Good choice, Eddie Spaghetti.” Richie grins, knowing that Eddie hates that nickname, and, like clockwork, Eddie rushes to to tell him so.

“I hate when you call me that!” Eddie glares at him, but Bev can see him trying to hide a smile. Ben chuckles and orders after him. Richie races off to put in their order to the cook that night, a man called Chuck.

Bev continues to put salt into the correct containers, not really thinking about much other than how much she hates being here some days. Sure, the tips were usually pretty good, but they were paid less than minimum wage and the customers were downright awful some days. There was an old lady who came in near the beginning of summer that thought Richie was hitting on her grandson and called him some not very nice words. Richie hid in the freezer until they left.

Bev sighs softly and puts her salt back in it’s correct place. As she’s walking back to the counter, an older man reaches out and grabs her wrist. She stops immediately.

“Can I help you with something sir?” She had been told off for being rude to the customers too many times to let her anger show. Bev doesn’t try to loosen the man’s grip either; better her wrist than her ass.

The old man licks his lips and looks her up and down. Bev stands a bit straighter, refusing to back down from his stare.

“Just needed a closer look atcha. Quite the looker if I do say so myself. What’s an ass like your’s doing in a place like this?”

Bev hears both Eddie and Ben get up, rearing for a fight. Bev holds up her other hand to make them wait.

“Let go of my arm or things will start to get sticky around here.” She hears Richie come out from the kitchen and take in the scene before them. He also waits for her to handle things before jumping in. The old man’s eyes flicker to the boys behind her.

“Whatcha gonna do? Have your boyfriends beat me up? I knew you were a slut but I didn’t realize you had so many.” The old man laughs and Bev’s anger flares up. She lowers her other hand and the boys rush in.

Before any of them could reach the old man, Bev has him by the balls. Someone lets out a soft ouch and she hears Richie apologize to someone. The hand around her wrist is immediately gone and a scared look settles on the man’s face. Bev raises an eyebrow and smiles.

“Apologize.” She tightens her grip on his manly bits and he lets out a squeak.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” Bev smiles.

“Good, now leave and don’t come back to this diner or I will call the cops.” Bev leans in closer, and whispers, “You shouldn’t have been worried about the boys. I can handle myself.” She lets him go and the man rushes out of the diner.

Bev turns around and sees Ben with a bloody nose and Eddie shaking his head at Richie.

“What the hell happened? I turn my back for two minutes and you guys get hurt?”

“Richie hit me in the fucking nose trying to get to you,” Ben says softly. Bev sighs and looks at Richie. He’s red from the roots of his hair to where his uniform sits on his neck.

“I didn’t mean to,” he says softly. “Plus your face hurt my elbow.” Richie lifts up his sleeve and there was a small bruise forming right above his elbow.

Bev rubs the space inbetween her eyebrows. Sometimes it’s like she’s their mother, always fixing them up. She grabs Ben’s hand, ignoring the blush that creeps up his neck.

“I’m taking Ben to the back to get him cleaned up. Eddie, you’re in charge.”

Eddie turns a self satisfied smile towards Richie, who’s pouting about not being in charge while Bev’s gone.

“But he doesn’t even work here!” Richie protests.

“Shut up Trashmouth and do as I say. I’m the boss now.” And with that, Bev walks Ben back to where they keep their first aid kit and sits him down in a back booth.

Bev softly touches his nose, trying to tell if it was broken or not before noticing that the bleeding had stopped. She wiped up the nearly dried blood with a soft towel. Ben winces once and Bev pulls away.

“Well, the good news is that I don’t think the Trashmouth broke your nose. It’s not bruising much either, so you should be okay. The blood has stopped as well.” Bev smiles and turns away to put the towel down next to the first aid kit next to her. She can hear Eddie speaking very quickly but he’s drowned out by ‘Eddie My Love’ playing once again. That’s gonna be difficult to explain.

“Hey, Bev?” She turns back to him.

“Yeah, Ben?”

She waits, watching Ben struggle to spit whatever he wanted to say out. It gives her a chance to look at him, really look at him. Ben is no longer chubby; he still held on to a bit of baby fat but he had started lifting weights at the beginning of high school and it was really paying off. Working at the lumberyard had helped a lot too. He wasn’t buff per say, but he had workable muscle from years of lifting heavy wood. Ben had recently gotten his blonde hair cut as well, making him look a bit older. Overall, he was becoming a very good looking man.

“I was wondering if you’d want to go out sometime?”

“Oh, with all the Loser’s?” Bev tilts her head to one side, somewhat confused by the question.

“No, I mean just us. Maybe dinner? Or a movie?” Bev’s brain stops in it’s tracks. She hasn’t been on a date since the breakup. Sure, she’d gotten offers but she thought it was too soon. But last week she had seen Bill out with Audra Phillips, a cheerleader a year younger than them. Obviously he had moved on, why shouldn’t she?

“- if you don’t want to, that’s totally fine, I was just curious -”

Bev, interrupting his rambling, says “You know what, I’d love to. What time were you thinking?” Ben opens and closes his mouth several times before his face breaks into a huge smile.

“I was thinking I could pick you up at your aunt’s place and we could go to that new Italian place on Third Street? Around 6?” Bev smiles.

“Sounds like a date, New Kid.”

#beverly marsh #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #ben hanscom #bill denbrough #stanley uris #mike hanlon #it chapter one #a summer like never before #losers club #losers #it

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mobius-prime · 5 years ago

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199. Sonic the Hedgehog #131

Deep breaths, guys. I know what the cover page says. I know. We'll get to that. Just hang in there. I think you might like what I have in store.

Home (Part 2 of 4): The Gathering

Writer: Karl Bollers Pencils: Ron Lim Colors: Jason Jensen

So not much actually happens in this installment of Home other than the various characters talking to each other about and preparing for the upcoming battle. Since Sonic has been gone, a new Freedom Fighter Special has been constructed that can cut travel time dramatically around the globe. A journey that in the Tornado or on foot (in Sonic's case) would have taken up to two hours can be completed in a mere half hour now, thanks to Rotor's engineering prowess. And thus, Sonic and Tails head out to Old Megaopolis to stop Eggman's twin nukes from launching, along with an… interesting backup team, to say the least.

Man, remember Fiona? It's been ages since we've seen her! It appears that while Sonic was in space, she joined up with the crew in Knothole and has been helping them fight Eggman. That's definitely a better life for her than to be running with the likes of Nic the Weasel, eh? Meanwhile, Knuckles, Julie-Su, Amy Rose, and the other two (active) members of the Chaotix head to Fort Acorn, where General D'Coolette is giving a speech to the soldiers under his command. We've never even heard of this fort before, but according to the general it's been here for ten years, keeping a forward watch on Robotropolis, and this watch has been maintained even after Robotropolis' destruction in case of just such a situation as the current one. With their reinforcements from Knothole, the crew at the fort prepare to defend the city against a massive swatbot assault to lower the forcefield keeping the radiation in check. Back in Knothole, extra measures are being taken to make absolutely sure that even if the worst happens, the citizenry will be safe.

Station Square, for their part, has sent a squad of GUN commandos to help in the battle at Old Megaopolis. The commander of the military is baffled by this decision, wanting to send in their full fighting force, but the president instead opts to trust his allies from Knothole - though just for insurance, he's sent one of his own operatives along for the ride…

Now that's what I like to see! It's about time Rouge got herself some proper screentime. As all this is going on, Eggman waits aboard a docked battleship in the harbor of Old Megaopolis with his assistant M, and orders A.D.A.M. to begin the missile countdown. However, almost immediately, the sound of a biplane puts them on high alert, and Eggman is shocked to see Sonic and Tails bearing down on his location, not having expected them to be able to get here nearly so fast. See, Eggman, this is why you resist the siren call of your ego and keep your damn plans to yourself. All you did was give your enemies ample warning to prepare to foil your evil plot, you idiot!

Mobius 25 Years Later: Prologue

Writer: Ken Penders Pencils: Steven Butler Colors: Jensen

Okay, guys. This is it. We've reached the most Penders thing of all time. This is something that has been hinted at here and there from all the way back in the Sonic In Your Face special to now, and we're finally seeing the culmination of all of that buildup. All the intricate worldbuilding, all the complex character arcs, all the intrigue and political spider webs and back to back wars and everything that the world of Mobius has been through up until now - there's so much to explore, so many directions it could have gone. We're about to see what this world might look like twenty-five years into the future, and with so much rich history to draw from, what might you imagine this story might look like? What genre might it fall into? Well wonder no longer!

It's a drama. It's a teen drama.

There's a reason that Mobius 25 Years Later is widely considered to be one of the worst parts of the comic. The tone of it is just so far off anything else we've experienced so far that it clashes horribly with what we've come to expect. It's not some masterful subversion of expectations or something - in a lot of ways I consider it to be a genuine insult to the rest of the preboot's material up to this point. It's painfully and immediately clear that this is a story Penders has wanted to tell for a while, but, not being able to fit his "middle-aged adults adulting everywhere and being so adult-like while ignoring the feelings and difficulties that ordinary teenagers face" plot anywhere into the rest of the comic, he's opted to just fire the world a couple decades into the future, pair all the major characters off into weird and oftentimes arbitrary heterosexual marriages, give everyone 2.5 children and a titanium picket fence, and then throw in some allusions to the old "war against Doc 'Botnik" here and there lest we forget, entirely understandably at this point, that we're reading a Sonic the Hedgehog comic here. This thing goes on for nineteen whole issues, taking up each subsequent issue's backup story, and ultimately has no real impact on the actual story involving the characters we already know and love. However, this is technically canon, or at least a version of canon (as when you play with alternate realities and multiple timelines, futures are bound to get mixed up here and there), so we're gonna be covering it - all of it. I wouldn't be tempted to skip it anyway, as by delving into each chapter in this trainwreck, we can actually explore why this whole thing fails so hard, and why it's therefore so loathed in the fandom. Plus, I do recognize that some people actually do enjoy this arc for various reasons (one of my close friends does, and has a whole AU of her own relating to it in fact), so I do plan to at least try to be fair in my review - but I really can't hide that I find this whole affair boring as hell, often downright offensive, and ultimately completely out of place. With all that in mind, let's dive in!

We begin with a full page of exposition delivered to us via high school lecture, because everyone knows the best way to establish your worldbuilding is by infodumping it directly into your audience's eyeballs. Apparently, over the last twenty years, Angel Island has been heavily developed into its own independent republic, with a new city, Portal, acting as the center of trade between the island and the mainland below. We're once again introduced to Lara-Su, who, instead of being the badass time-traveling young adult whom we followed before, is now an ordinary teenager taking ordinary high school classes among a bunch of ordinary high school echidnas.

One of the biggest failings of this story is that Penders writes every teenage character how he thinks teenagers act, from his point of view as a middle-aged adult. This becomes abundantly clear the longer you read, as every teenager is a hormone-fueled, authority-defying, entitled, whiny, fickle child who just doesn't understand how the real world works, while every adult is a wise, experienced, and highly logical individual who always knows more than their younger fellows and refuses to pay attention to the whims of mere children. Like, I'm not even exaggerating here - I'm going to be pointing out every instance of this kind of behavior over the entire rest of this arc, and you can't stop me, so nyah nyah. Penders shows so little respect for the mere concept of teenagers, which is a terrible attitude to have not just in general, but especially if you're one of the head writers for an entire series about teenagers saving the goddamn world! Anyway, case in point: the teacher, instead of admonishing Rutan for being a bully, merely snaps at Lara-Su for not acting enough like a "young lady" and tells her to stay after class. Ugh.

Later that day, Rotor arrives on Angel Island as a liaison for the royal ruling couple, Queen Sally and King Sonic, because yes, Sonic literally becomes king in this timeline. He catches a ride from Harry - hey, good to see our favorite dingo still doing well for himself at least - and meets with Espio, who is now apparently Knuckles' secretary or something. At least, that's all I can assume from this weird-ass conversation.

As a matter of fact, yes, Sonic and Sally are bringing their two children, Sonia and Manik, to the family dinner! How very mid-70s domestic family unit of them! Espio informs Knuckles of this over a television screen as the latter broods around in some kind of high-tech facility. Unlike what we've seen of Espio, the years have dramatically changed Knuckles' appearance - his right eye is missing, replaced with a mechanical one, and he sports the cowboy hat that Hawking gave him in the past (you know, the one we never saw again after he received it). While I actually quite like the idea of a main character in the comic losing something as important as an eye, I feel like there's a huge missed opportunity here - instead of just thrusting us into an alternate future where everything is fine but one character is inexplicably missing an eye, how about actually showing us the story of how that eye was lost? Show us a Knuckles who's learning to cope with the loss of an important body part, and having to adjust to his mechanical prosthetic! Go into his feelings about the subject, as someone who has so long been opposed to a faction that thrives on mechanical prosthetics, instead of just skipping over what has the potential to be the most interesting part of this story! Ugh, sorry, there's just nothing that gets to me more than a missed opportunity like this. Knuckles and Espio exchange some tortured small-talk about their kids for a little while, with the only interesting part of the conversation being their discussion of Rotor's arrival and how he's likely here to see someone named Cobar, with whom he apparently has a history. More on that later. Knuckles excuses himself from the conversation, as he has to be home in time for his daughter's "Unveiling" tonight, and as the call ends we zoom out to see that apparently nowadays, the Master Emerald is hooked up to all sorts of technology in this facility, presumably maintaining everything automatically. However, this story isn't done throwing weird curveballs at us yet - it's time to see what our former villains are up to in this future!

There is so much to unpack here. Dimitri, feared overlord of the Dark Legion, is now an amiable cyborg-head-in-a-bubble. Lien-Da, the treacherous second-in-command who regularly spoke of betraying Dimitri and taking the Legion in her own darker direction, is now apparently a single mom who's embraced the domestic life, taking care of her rowdy teenage son while, predictably, complaining about the behavior of kids these days. And weirdest of all, apparently everyone is just fine with these literal former terrorists living in their midst and doing ordinary mom and grandpa things, with Lien-Da even apparently amenable to the idea of trying to make up with Julie-Su because "they're family," despite her history of, you know, erasing Julie-Su's memory multiple times and killing her biological parents as revenge for her birth. I mean, is this what Penders thinks adulthood is? Is he even entirely sane? Does he know the definition of terrorism?

Any-goddamn-way, Knuckles arrives home to his eerily sterile-looking steel-plated mansion that looks more like the lobby of a pharmaceutical laboratory than a place where people live, and greets his loving housewife Julie-Su, who's gained a cute giant ponytail but lost absolutely everything else that made her unique, including her own cybernetic parts and just her personality in general. She informs Knuckles that Lara-Su has locked herself in the bathroom and is having herself a mighty tantrum, refusing to come out to get ready for her Unveiling ceremony, which is apparently the equivalent of a Quinceañera for echidna girls. Knuckles, instead of doing something reasonable like asking her why she's upset, starts aggressively demanding that she come out of her room this instant, while Lara-Su repeatedly yells about how she doesn't wanna. Ugh, teenagers, amiright?

Seriously, I just can't get over how little respect Penders has for teenagers in his writing. Like, yes, I acknowledge that teenagers aren't always the most logical of beings, but they're also not goddamn three-year-olds either. They're old enough to articulate their desires and express their unique opinions, and often do so in very mature ways, especially if they're raised well and treated with the same respect you'd afford any adult. I should know, I was one myself. I would have assumed Penders was one as well at some point, but perhaps he just popped into the world one day as a fully-formed 43-year-old, full of disdain for those younger than himself. It would certainly explain everything we're seeing here.

Anyway, it turns out that the reason Lara-Su is upset is because Knuckles refuses to train her to be a Guardian, and so she whines and yells about it from behind the door like a petulant child as Knuckles continually refuses to actually give her a solid reason why he won't let her be one. When Julie-Su basically forces him to calm the hell down and explain himself, he reluctantly explains that since all the duties of a Guardian have by now been taken over by other functions of their society, he feels there's no longer any need for one, himself included. This is apparently enough to make Lara-Su immediately happy enough to burst out of the bathroom and grab her father's arm, suddenly totally excited to go to her Unveiling as long as Knuckles promises her the first dance. Ah, the fickle mind of a silly, silly teenager!

Kill me.

#nala reads archie sonic preboot #archie sonic #archie sonic preboot #sonic the hedgehog #sth 131 #writer: karl bollers #writer: ken penders #pencils: ron lim #pencils: steven butler #colors: jason jensen

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fandom-meanderer · 6 years ago

Text

A Day in the Life

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Winchesters x Sister!Reader

Part: 1/?

Genre: Flash Fiction

Word Count: 1,322 Words

Warnings: Uh... Bad writing XD

Other Notes: This is obviously an AU where the WInchesters can be happy boys okay they’ve been through too much

---

You've always had a knack for hunting.

You couldn't explain it, but it just came naturally to you. It was easy, almost too easy. You retained information well, so it wasn't like you were a hopeless mess for each hunt you've been on. You could remember how to draw the perfect pentagram without reference, the exact words of a demon exorcism, hell, you could even remember how to SUMMON a demon if you must.

So why are you being punished like this?

Unable to handle the adrenaline rushes of a hunt, unable to sustain long distances without throwing yourself into a coughing fit, unable to physically move for long periods of time without throwing yourself down the drain. Your hand flew to your heart as you felt it flutter, you pounded it a couple of times with your palm. You took a few shaky breaths.

'Focus,' You told yourself. You stood up from your bed, taking a quick glance over to your side. Your fiancé wasn't home yet. He left on a hunt of his own a month ago. You checked your phone messages. He never ceased to text you every morning when he woke up and every night before he went to sleep. You did your daily routine and you left your apartment to go to your job.

---

You've always wanted to be a school teacher.

Not for elementary, oh no, you preferred much more mature students. Thus landing you the job as a high school English teacher. Now you loved your class, loved them to bits even. Seniors, they were. You pretty much knew each student personally. When you read their papers, you could hear their individual voices speaking to you in your mind.

"Ms. (Last Name)!" Jacob calls, raising his hand. You look at him from your desk and nod in acknowledgment. "When was that essay due again?"

"Tomorrow," You smile. You watch the spirit drain from his eyes. "Just kidding. It's due next week," You laugh. The whole class joins you. Jacob lets out a sigh of relief and returns to his assignment.

"Don't forget about the test tomorrow," You say, suddenly remembering the fact. "It'll be 50% of your grade and it will be on Huxley’s Brave New World. So don't forget to study," You say. "It seems that most classes fail this test," You quietly added. A few laughs from the class. The door suddenly slams open and two familiar figures walk in. Your eyes widen and your jaw drops. The whole class turned to look at the two men.

"We need to talk to you," The tallest one says. You nod.

"Just finish your assignments," You tell the class as you lead the two men out the door. You close it behind you. "Sam, Dean, what are you two doing here?"

"There's a poltergeist in the next building over," Dean explains.

"Yeah, and someone blew off what money we had on a strip club," Sam says, staring at Dean. Dean just shrugs and nods his head.

"So you two are looking for a place to crash while you're here," You say. "After nearly ten years, you decide to show up now, expecting that I'm going to let you stay in my apartment," You say. Sam takes a long sigh and heaves his shoulders while Dean just nods. "Well, if that's so. Then you're absolutely correct. You'll just have to hang in my classroom until the day ends."

"Thank you so much, (Name)," Sam says. You open the door and usher them back in. You couldn't help but smile to yourself when you saw some of the female students nudging each other and giggling.

---

"Welcome to my humble abode," You say, allowing them into your apartment. "The spare room's down the hall, give me a second to set up the air bed," You say, walking into the room. Sam and Dean stay behind and look around your living room. Dean picks up a picture frame depicting the Winchester family.

"Well would you look at that," He says. "Didn't think she'd keep something like this," He says. Sam looks over.

"Yeah," He says. You return to the boys.

"Alright, should be ready in about 10 minutes or so," You say as you walk over to the kitchen, which was directly connected to the living room. You pull out a pie from the fridge.

"It's fucking Christmas up here," Dean smiles, sitting on the stool. You hand him the pie.

"All yours, big bro," You laugh. "You want anything, Sam?" You ask. He sits next to Dean.

"Any protein shakes?"

"Ah, so you're one of those people," You laugh. You take out the powder and mix it with water before handing it to him. "So how've you guys been? Good, I hope."

"Sure, let's go with that," Dean says. Sam just nods.

"How about you, (Name)?"

"I've been pretty good too," You say. Your phone starts to ring. You check the caller ID before answering. "What's up?" You ask.

"Oh... Another month? No, no don't worry about it, I'm fine. My brothers are here," You say into the speaker. Sam and Dean exchange glances. "Yeah, I know right? Anyways, they'll be staying over for a while, so you don't have to worry about me. Yeah, okay. Love you too, babe. Be safe, see you," You say, ending the call.

"Who was that?" Dean asks.

"Fiancé," You respond. Sam whistles.

"I'm sorry, fiancé?" Dean asks, blinking in disbelief.

"Yes, Dean. Fiancé. As in, about to be married in two months and your ass better be sitting in the front row, fiancé."

"Wow," Sam says. Dean shakes his head.

"I don't even know the guy," Dean says.

"YOU HAVEN'T SPOKEN TO ME IN TEN YEARS!"

"Fair enough," He says.

"Geez, I tried to call but apparently you changed your number," You say. You look at the time. "Crap, I still need to grade papers."

"Let me help," Sam says, finishing the shake.

"Thank you," You say, placing the papers on the counter. "They're just vocabulary tests, so they shouldn't be hard. Here's the answer key if you need it," You say. Dean smiles.

"You've always wanted to be a teacher," He says. "Even when we were little, you made me play student, remember?"

"Yeah," You laugh. "Good times."

"How come you don't hunt anymore?" Sam asks. You look at him. You hesitate before pointing to your heart.

"In the last hunt I went on... I made a mistake," You say. "I didn't realize that the weapon I was using wasn't made of pure silver," You say, slightly embarrassed.

"So this is what you do now? Just, teach high school brats?" Dean asks.

"They are not brats," You say, your voice stern. "But I usually help out other hunters in the area. I'm pretty much just a younger, and much more prettier, version of Bobby," You joke. Sam and Dean laugh. You look at the time, Sam follows your glance.

"You can go to sleep, if you need to, (Name)," He says. "We can handle ourselves."

"Alright, if you say so," You yawn. You hug both of them. "Goodnight," You say.

"Night, (Name)," Dean says.

"Sweet dreams," Sam adds in. You nod and walk into your room. You check your phone one last time before you sleep.

'Good night, I love you,' The text read. You smiled and went to sleep.

---

"Who do you think her fiancé is?" Dean asks once you're out of earshot.

"Dean."

"Do you think we know him? I mean, the way she spoke to him sounded like he was a hunter too."

"Dean, please."

"If I meet him I'm going to give him a good long talk."

"Please don't."

"Yeah, I might have to beat him up if he hurts (Name)."

"Dean she's 27. She's fine."

"I'm going to find him if it's the last thing I do."

"God," Sam sighs.

#Supernatural #x Reader #Sam x Sister!Reader #Dean x Sister!Reader #Series #Flash FIction #Supernatural x Reader

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write-havoc · 5 years ago

Text

Of Sons and Daughters Ch 11

Summary: Arthur is tasked by Dutch to watch over a young woman who had just lost the last member of her family she had left. That young woman just so happens to be the daughter that Dutch told no one else about.

This is a non canon AU with no major spoilers

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Pairing: Arthur Morgan/Original Female Character

Status: Ongoing

Contains: swearing, PG 13 smut

Intended for readers 18+ of age only

Masterlist in my bio

Several days pass as the gang comes to terms with Micah’s betrayal to them. With what Charles had told them about what he had seen, it’s evident that after Micah’s plan to get Dutch out in the open to meet with Colm had failed, he went out to that train station to telegraph Milton. Once the agents arrived, Micah must’ve told them Dutch didn’t take the bait. Milton’s impatience apparently had gotten the better of him because he then decided to just raid the camp instead of going about contriving another plan to get Dutch away from everyone to arrest him.

During these days, Emmeline settles in more. She tries her best to do jobs around the camp at Shady Belle. Laundry, mending clothes, washing up, none of it is really new to her, anyway. Once the sun goes down, she starts to help Lenny in his pursuit to teach Sean how to read. The Irishman seems more inclined to listen to Emmeline than Lenny, so he actually makes progress.

“The... dog... j-j-“ he reads along as he points to the words on the page with his finger.

“Sound it out,” Emmeline says in support.

“J-um-p-ed. Jumped!” he calls out excitedly. “That fucker jumped !”

Emmeline and Lenny both laugh at his reaction.

“You’re doing good,” she comments. “See, you’re getting it down. You’ll be reading novels in no time.”

Karen, who is close by, decides to see what all the hubbub is about. “Who jumped?” she asks as she comes to stand by Sean.

He points to the illustration of the little puppy in the book that Lenny had borrowed from Jack. “The dog!” He follows the words with his finger again as he reads. “The dog jumped!”

“You can join us, Karen,” Lenny mentions. “If Sean can learn, you surely can, too.”

She thinks it over a minute. “If I learn to read, Mary Beth will be shoving those stories she writes in my face all the time askin’ if they’re any good.” She moves to sit down next to Sean. “But I guess I ain’t got nothin’ better to do right now.”

Soon enough, Abigail and Jack join in on the lessons, though Hosea has to be recruited to help out with the teaching. It helps to keep spirits high in this time of uncertainty. Arthur often sits next to Emmeline as she continues to help, though most of the time he’s sketching in his journal instead of helping out.

“Who taught you to read, Emmeline?” Abigail asks one of the days they’re all sitting around the fire.

“Both my parents loved books,” she answers. “They didn’t send me off to school, but they both taught me all they knew. Taught me to read and write. How to add numbers. Even had me read some history books, too. They wasn’t really educated, but they did their best.”

“Well you’re loads smarter than Arthur, here,” Sean calls out at Arthur’s expense. “How’d you manage to convince a sweet girl like that to be with you.”

Before Arthur can respond, Emmeline steps in to defend him. “He didn’t have to convince me. Arthur is sweet and kind. And he ain’t dumb. He’s taught me a lot.” She looks over to Arthur and smiles.

“Ain’t that sweet!” Sean razzes him further.

Karen slaps the back of the Irishman’s head. “He’s a better man than you, Sean.”

“Aw, you love me. Give us a kiss.” He leans into Karen, his lips puckered.

“I don’t love you, you pig!” Karen calls out, but everyone knows she’s not serious.

About a week after they had moved into Shady Belle, Arthur finds Dutch standing at the back of the property looking over the swamp.

“Whatcha doin’, Dutch?” he calls out as he approaches.

The older man doesn’t even turn around, though he does answer. “Watching the alligators,” he says with very little emotion in his voice.

Once Arthur comes to stand next to Dutch, he can see blood in the water and an alligator moving around underneath it. “They fighting or something?”

“I watched a boar walk over to the edge of the water,” Dutch starts, eyes still fixed on the swamp. “I watched as one of those gators silently swam up to it, the boar none the wiser. Only took but a few seconds and that gator had that boar in its mouth, dragging it in the water as its meal.”

“Shit,” is all Arthur can think to say.

Dutch lets out a sigh. “All this time, I thought I was the alligator. Turns out I’m the boar.”

Arthur could tell that Dutch hadn’t been taking Micah’s betrayal very well. He had shut himself in his room, barely talking to anybody, which isn’t normal for him. This is actually the first time Arthur had spoken to him in days.

“Now come on, Dutch,” Arthur replies gently. “You ain’t no boar. You’re a man. And men make mistakes on occasion. I know that more ‘n anyone.”

“I’ve been thinking about... him ,” Dutch says, refusing to use Micah’s name. “About everything he’s done. Everything he’s said.” He lets out a heavy breath and casts his gaze to the ground in front of him. “He played me, Arthur. Like a fiddle. Told me everything I wanted to hear. Then he tried to get me to turn on you.” He finally looks over to the younger man. “And John. And Hosea. I nearly fell for it.”

“But ya didn’t.”

“But I nearly did. And everything I’ve been working for would’ve been lost .” He lets out a sigh. “I’ve just been trying so hard ,” he brings his hands up and clenches them into fists in front of him, “to hold onto everything. To keep everyone together. Not to fall into the trap of this...” he waves his hands around, “ civilization .”

“I know, Dutch. We’re still here. We’re still with you.”

Dutch turns his body to face Arthur and places his hand on Arthur’s shoulder. “But for how long?” He doesn’t stay to get a response, instead, walking past him toward the house.

Just a little while later as almost everyone is eating their supper, Sean calls out, “Hey, English!” in Arthur’s direction. Bill is walking next to him, which can mean nothing good, most likely.

Arthur lets out a sigh, causing Emmeline to chuckle beside him. “Yes, Sean?” he replies, already exasperated.

“Me and Bill was ‘avin a drink at some saloon in San Denis when we hear these two blokes talkin’ about some train that’s s’pose ta be carryin’ a lot of gold. Apparently they gonna be movin’ money outta the bank fer some reason.”

“And...?” Arthur says after a pause.

Bill jumps in. “We rob it!”

Arthur just shakes his head. “I don’t think we should be doin’ nothin’ like that right now. All the heat that’s been on us... we need to lie low.”

“Don’t we need the money, though? To get to Tahiti?” Sean asks, parroting Dutch’s words.

“Right now we gotta focus on not getting nabbed by them Pinkertons,” Arthur explains. “Micah don’t know where we went to, but I’m bettin’ he’s told them agents that we’d head further east once they ran us outta Clemens Point. If we do something big, they’ll know it’s us and it’ll only be a matter of time before they find this place.” Arthur scratches at his beard as he thinks it over. “We need to do shit much more quiet than we have been. No train robberies. No banks or stagecoaches. Nothin’ like that. We send the women into the city to pickpocket some rich folk. Javier and whoever else can rob homesteads as long as it’s quiet. Me and Charles can hunt and sell the pelts. It won’t get us a heap load of money, but it’ll make us enough to keep surviving. For now, anyways.”

Since Dutch is continuing to lock himself away most of the time, there’s no one else giving the gang orders but Arthur and Hosea. They are both in agreement that the gang needs to lower their profile for the time being. Especially until Dutch gets back to his old self. Arthur hopes he’ll come out of it, sooner rather than later.

During this time, Emmeline and Arthur try to figure out what it means to be in a relationship together. She, of course, has no experiences of her own to draw off of. Arthur isn’t much better, though, only having one serious relationship in his life. There are some awkward moments, usually coming in the form of Arthur being teased every time someone catches him even so much as looking at Emmeline. She shrugs it off, but Arthur usually has to try to hide his blushing cheeks.

While he’s never been very comfortable with public displays of affection, he makes up for it in the privacy of their own room. He’s tentative for the first few nights, but with Emmeline’s assurance that she is fine with his advances, he gets more comfortable with her physically. Before too long, he comes to crave the intimacy that she provides. He had long since accepted that he would never have another woman in his life, but then Emmeline showed up and awakened parts of him that had been dormant.

One morning, Arthur and Emmeline are cuddled up together in the small bed in their second floor room. Arthur has been working hard lately, so he decides to sleep in a little today. As for Emmeline, her pregnancy has continued to take the energy out of her, so some extra time in bed doesn’t bother her any.

“You awake, Emma?” he whispers when she stirs a little from her position lying on his chest.

“Yeah,” she answers sleepily without lifting her head. “But I’m still tired. I might just fall back asleep.”

He kisses her crown. “Go on ahead. I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Just a few minutes after she tries to fall back asleep, she’s overcome with a wave of nausea. Thankful that she decided to put her nightgown back on last night after she and Arthur were done with their “activities,” she runs out of their room to try to make it outside before the contents of her stomach could come up. Unfortunately, she just barely makes it out into the hallway before she starts to heave.

Abigail can hear the commotion from her room just a few feet away. She leaves Jack, still sleeping soundly, to see what’s going on. “Are you alright?” she asks Emmeline when she sees the mess at her feet.

Emmeline clears her throat and wipes her mouth. “I’m fine,” she says as she looks up to the other woman, unsure what else to say.

Arthur comes out of the room, having hastily put on his pants to cover himself. He shares a look with Abigail before he gently lays a hand on Emmeline’s back. “Why don’t you go back in and lay down,” he says to her. “I’ll clean this up.”

Abigail’s face suddenly lights up as she calls out, “You’re pregnant! I knew it!” She had her suspicions, but the fact that Emmeline had gotten sick and Arthur isn’t at all worried about it confirms what she had thought.

Both Arthur and Emmeline snap their heads to look at the other woman.

“Keep it down,” Arthur growls out.

Abigail lets out a scoff. “Ain’t nobody up here but Jack. And he could sleep through the end of the world. Even Dutch and Molly are out, for once.” She starts to vibrate with excitement despite Arthur glaring at her. “But it’s true, right?”

Emmeline smiles gently as she nods slightly. There’s no use in lying at this point.

Abigail can’t hold back the squeal of happiness as it leaves her mouth. The thought of having another child in the camp for Jack to play with swirls in her mind.

“Shh!” Arthur pats the air to try to calm her. “You can’t tell nobody, Abigail. Especially not the rest of the girls.”

“I wont.”

“Abigail?” John’s raspy voice rings out from the steps. “You alright up there? I heard you yell.” He starts to come up the stairs before she even answers.

Abigail runs over to meet her husband on the landing. “Emmeline’s with child!” she tells him immediately.

Arthur throws up his hands and rolls his eyes. “Abigail! I just told you not to tell no one!”

“John doesn’t count,” she replies as she leads John over to where the group stands.

“Is that sick?” he points to the pile a few feet away.

Abigail swats him on the chest. “Don’t worry about that! You’re gonna be an uncle!”

“Don’t tell nobody else,” Arthur asserts. “I mean it. Both of you.”

“Alright, alright.” Abigail turns to leave. “I’ll get a bucket to clean up that mess. Then we’re gonna talk all about this.”

John shakes his head and claps Arthur on the shoulder. “Looks like we’re more alike than I thought.”

Emmeline scrunches up her face in confusion at his comment. “What?”

“I knocked Abigail up with Jack on accident, too.”

Arthur shakes his head. “Shut up, Marston.”

She looks over to Arthur for a moment before turning back to John. “But you were happy, right?”

“Little Johnny Marston ran away. Like an idiot,” Arthur answers for him. “I won’t never do that.”

“I came back,” John defends himself.

“It only took four years for you to get your shit together to be somewhat of a father to the boy,” Arthur bites back sarcastically. He had always looked down at John for his decision to leave instead of accepting his role as a father. Now that he’s put himself in the same position with regards to an unexpected pregnancy, he’s focused on not repeating the younger man’s mistake.

Abigail reappears carrying a bucket and some rags. “Stop fighting, you two. You should be celebrating.”

“We ain’t ready to tell everyone just yet,” Emmeline comments. “So I think we’ll have to wait for any parties.”

“It’s your news to tell. But the second you do it, there’s certainly going to be a party.” Abigail bends down to start to clean the floor. “I suggest you nibble on some biscuits to settle your stomach, though. If you start getting sick all the time, people are gonna get curious and ask questions.”

Early one morning, Emmeline takes Abigail up on her advice. Once her stomach starts to roil, she sneaks out of bed quietly enough not to wake Arthur to head down to Pearson’s wagon in search for biscuits. The sun isn’t even up yet, so it takes her a few minutes in the dark to locate the small tin on the table.

After eating a few of the biscuits, she decides to head over to where Miss Susie is hitched at the edge of camp to visit with her for a moment.

“How ya doin’, girl?” she asks as she pats the horse on the neck.

Upon hearing a rustling behind her, she flips around just in time to see Kieran exiting his tent not far away from her.

“Miss Emmeline?” he croaks out, his voice still tinged with sleep.

“I’m sorry, Kieran. I didn’t mean to wake you. I honestly forgot your tent was over here.”

“That’s okay.” He moves to the other side of Miss Susie, petting her on the nose. “It ain’t too much before I’d get up anyway.”

“I need to thank you for taking such good care of her,” she says as she continues to stroke the horse’s coat. “I haven’t gotten the chance to take her out much lately.”

“She’s a real good horse. Very friendly. I must admit that she’s my favorite to ride out of all of them.”

She smiles. “Really?”

“Most of the other horses only accept one rider in the saddle. Miss Susie here don’t mind me taking her out at all.” He pats her neck. “I’ll get her a couple of carrots for a treat.”

He starts to move further away to where he keeps his supplies while Emmeline continues to pet her horse. Suddenly, there’s a scuffle and when she turns to look, she sees a man in a green vest grappling with Kieran, trying to pull him off into the woods.

“No!” she screams at the top of her lungs and instinctively runs toward the man that she realizes must be an O’Driscoll with what Arthur has told her about them. She doesn’t have any weapons on her and she’s only in her nightgown, but she doesn’t let that stop her from trying to help Kieran. Jumping on the O’Driscoll’s back, she forces one arm around his neck and tries to pull him away.

Unbeknownst to her, the O’Driscoll hadn’t arrived alone. His partner roughly grabs her by the shoulders and throws her off the first man and onto the ground hard. She’s stunned for a moment, but once a gunshot rings out, she comes to just in time to see the man on Kieran crumble to the ground.

With the O’Driscoll’s plan well and truly bungled by the surprise appearance of the raven haired woman, the remaining man can only think about making it out alive. He quickly pulls the woman in front of him up by the hair and holds her to his chest, using her as a shield.

“One move and she gets it,” he calls out to Bill, first and foremost, since he’s the only one close by with a gun. That’s not going to last for much longer, though. He can hear everyone else in the camp stirring at the noise. And with the sun starting to bathe the landscape with light, he no longer has the cover of darkness on his side.

“Let her go,” Kieran pleads.

The O’Driscoll knows he has to make a run for it now before he has more guns trained on him. He figures that the only chance he’ll get is if he kills the girl, catching them off guard enough to make his escape. He cocks his gun then a shot rings out.

Meanwhile, Arthur is pulled from sleep by the sound of Emmeline screaming “No!” It’s faint, but it’s like his mind is attuned to her voice. Without much thought, he grabs his gun belt and runs out of his room in only his union suit. As he’s running down the stairs, he’s bucking his belt around his hips and drawing his Schofield, ready for a fight. The sun is just barely up, but there’s enough light that he can see a man on the edge of camp holding Emmeline to his chest. Their right sides are facing Arthur so he gets a good look at the gun the O’Driscoll is holding to her head.

Arthur runs full bore at them. Without slowing even a little bit, he readies his gun to shoot the man behind Emmeline. Despite everything going on around Arthur, he somehow sees the small movement of the man’s thumb pulling back the hammer on his gun. Time seems to slow as Arthur lines up his shot to the side of the man’s head before he can fire his gun. Arthur wastes no time in pulling his own trigger, sending a bullet straight into the O’Driscoll’s temple, dropping him.

Emmeline thinks she’s been shot for a moment. She waits for the pain to radiate through her, but it doesn’t come. The only feeling she gets is the cool morning air rushing over her back, signaling that the man that had been holding her isn’t behind her anymore. Before she can turn to see what had happened to him, Arthur rushes over and turns her back to him.

“Don’t look, sweetheart,” he says hurriedly.

Bill’s voice calls out, “We got more bastards coming!”

Without a thought, Arthur picks Emmeline up, cradling her to his chest and runs back to the house. Gunshots start to ring out as he gets closer to the front doors. Before he can open them himself, Dutch bursts through them, both of his guns in his hands.

“Get her in here with the women!” he calls out to Arthur then starts shooting from the porch.

Arthur deposits her just inside. “Run upstairs to Abigail.” He places a kiss on her forehead then turns to go back outside.

Emmeline does as instructed and rushes up to the Marston’s room. She finds Abigail cradling a crying Jack to her chest on the bed.

“Get in here!” Abigail holds her free arm out to Emmeline and she huddled up next to the woman.

Though they’re about the same age, Emmeline allows Abigail to hold her as if she were her mother. She wraps one arm around Abigail’s back and places the other around Jack as an added layer of protection for him.

Outside, the firefight is intense. Round after round of O’Driscolls come at them. It has to be every single member of the gang, Arthur reckons. He sticks right beside Dutch as the man takes down his fair share of enemies. That is until he hears Sadie scream from behind the house.

“Go,” Dutch calls out unprompted. “I’ll cover you.”

Arthur runs around the house as Dutch takes down any men that might shoot at him. When he sees Sadie, she’s pinned down behind one of the buildings in the back. He fights his way toward her, then the two fight their way back out, clearing out all the O’Driscolls that had flanked the house. Soon, the gunshots fade as the few remaining enemies retreat.

Arthur doesn’t even give himself a minute to rest before he’s rushing back into the house and up the stairs. John is hot on his heels as he’s thinking similarly to Arthur in wanting to check on his family. Both men come through the door to the Marston’s room and see the women and Jack sitting on the bed, still cuddled together.

Upon seeing Arthur, Emmeline jumps up and runs over to him, enveloping him in a hug. “Are you hurt?” she asks into his shoulder.

“I’m okay.” He pulls back to look at her. “You okay?”

She nods, her eyes still watery with unshed tears. The battle had certainly shaken her up.

He pulls her back into him and cradles her head to his chest. “It’s alright. It’s over now,” he whispers to the top of her head. After a moment, he looks over to John, now sitting beside Abigail and Jack, his arm around them. “We need to get out of here,” he says suddenly.

John looks at him confused. “What do you mean?”

Emmeline backs up to look at Arthur as well. “Are they coming back?” She takes his statement as meaning that they need to clear out the camp again.

“No. I don’t know.” Arthur shakes his head. “I mean we ,” he gestures between himself and John, “should leave.”

“What are you saying?” John bites back.

“This life ain’t no place to raise a family, John. We all know that. Jack shouldn’t be raised like this.” He looks over to Emmeline. “No child should. Both of us need to seriously start thinkin’ about leaving.”

John stands with a huff. “All the shit you gave me for leaving and now you’re suggesting it?!”

Arthur takes a step towards the younger man. “You didn’t just leave us . You left them .” He gestures to Abigail and Jack. “Your responsibilities to the gang are one thing, but you left your responsibilities as a father. That’s what I gave you shit about. That boy needed a father. Still does. And this life more ‘n likely is gonna end in him losing you. Or bein’ an orphan.”

“Arthur’s right, John,” Abigail concurs as Jack still clutches his arms around her, though he’s cried himself out and is now falling asleep despite the voices around him. “We can’t keep doin’ this forever. Jack’s getting older and he’s gonna be aware of what we do pretty soon. What you do. He’s a good boy. Smart, you know. He could do so much more than either of us.”

Emmeline feels a bit like a third wheel in this conversation. Though, undoubtedly, she’s one part of the subject of the conversation, everyone else besides her is dealing with a history she’s not involved with. Arthur and John have lived together for over a decade as brothers, for lack of a better word. And Abigail has been with the gang for a few years as well. The decision whether or not to leave the group certainly must be a difficult one for them. The input of a person that’s only been there for a few weeks probably won’t be very welcome at this point, so Emmeline keeps her mouth shut.

John looks from Abigail to Arthur then flicks his gaze over to Emmeline. “You plannin’ on leavin’ with her?” he asks Arthur.

“Don’t have no plans, really.” Arthur runs his hand over his beard as he lets out a sigh. “That O’Driscoll had his gun to her head, fixin’ to shoot her,” he says as he gestures to Emmeline. “In one second she coulda been gone. I coulda lost that chance to...” he swallows roughly at the thought, “to be a father. All because of some old gang feud she ain’t had no part in.”

Not knowing what to say, Emmeline just takes Arthur’s hand in hers. Truth be told, she was specifically avoiding thinking about how close she came to death. And how close Arthur came to it as he battled outside. This whole situation is something she’s never had to deal with before.

Heavy footsteps echo in the hallway outside the room causing everyone to look in that direction.

“Arthur, John?” Dutch’s voice calls out as the footsteps grow nearer.

“In here,” Arthur answers.

A moment later, Dutch appears in the doorway, looking more lively than he has of recent. “Everyone alright in here?”

Everyone nods.

“Good,” Dutch continues. “No major injuries on our side. It seems the O’Driscolls plan was thwarted thanks to you, Emmeline.”

“Oh?” she replies. “I didn’t really do nothing.”

“You alerted us,” Dutch says, pride in his voice. “And Kieran told me you went after the man that attacked him. That was very brave.”

Arthur whips his head around to look at her. “You what ?”

“I just reacted,” she answers. “I saw someone hurting Kieran, so I tried to stop it.”

“You can’t do that,” Arthur asserts.

“Now, son,” Dutch interjects, “she most certainly saved that poor boy from a grisly fate. I think she deserves praise for that.”

Emmeline gives Dutch a genuine smile. Despite the fact that she hasn’t known the man that fathered her for that long, she’s not immune to his charms. Much like the way he’s fostered loyalty in Arthur over the years, she feels a sense of pride that the man is complementing her.

Arthur, on the other hand, is not happy. “I don’t think we should be encouraging her to put herself in danger.”

“It’s not encouragement, Arthur. Just acknowledgement.” Dutch pauses then lets out a heavy breath. “That’s not why I’m here, anyway. Javier caught one of the O’Driscolls before he could run away. I thought I could use you two,” he gestures to Arthur and John, “to interrogate him. See if he won’t tell us where that bastard Colm is so we can return his hospitality .” The word is laced with venom.

Arthur and John share a look before nodding.

“I gotta get dressed first,” Arthur says as he turns to leave with John and Dutch.

“Meet us in one of the buildings in the back,” Dutch calls out as he an John start to descend the stairs.

Emmeline follows Arthur over to their room. “Did you really mean all that?” she asks while he gathers some clothes from his trunk. “About leaving?”

He pauses his motion and turns back to her. “I’ve been scared since... the doctor told us we was gonna be parents, really. Scared what kinda father I’d be. Scared what Dutch is gonna say. Scared about it changing everything here, my whole life, everything I’ve ever known. But all of that weren’t nothing compared to how scared I was when I thought I was gonna lose the two ‘a you. And I don’t wanna leave you a widow, neither. We both need to get outta this. Together.”

She gives him a soft smile as she looks up at him. “That’s what I want, too.”

Over the last few weeks, Emmeline has come to care for the people around her in the camp. All she’s seen is people working together in a normal way, doing everyday things like tending the horses and cleaning up. But this burst of violence is unlike anything she’s ever experienced. She’s never been so close to gunfire, never seen anyone be fought with or shot. Now that she has, she wants nothing more than to never experience that again. If that means leaving everyone here... it’ll be hard, but she’s fine with it as long as she, Arthur, and the baby are safe.

#of sons and daughters #writehavoc Of Sons and Daughters #writehavoc writes #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan / oc #arthur morgan x original female character #Arthur Morgan / Original Female Character #Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #rdr

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ktwrites · 7 years ago

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Fandom: Game of Thrones Pairing: Jonerys Rating: T for now, will probably move to M. Summary: Jon and Dany are engaged and travel to Jon's family home in search of answers about the identity of the mother he never knew. How will the cope with what they uncover and discover along the way? Modern AU and a continuation of the oneshot "His Old Shirt".

Chapter 1

Dany shut off the faucet and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She hoped the sound of the shower had drowned out the sound she was making as she heaved the contents of her stomach into the toilet. For the third morning in a row…

“What’s wrong with you?” She muttered aloud, chancing a glance at her pale reflection in the mirror.

You know what’s wrong, she thought. She had the symptoms, it was true. Sick in the morning, her period was late, beyond tender breasts that seemed slightly larger, but none of that should have mattered. It simply wasn’t possible. The doctor had told her as much when she was in high school. She had told Jon there wasn’t a snowball’s chance in Dorne that she could get pregnant. Surprisingly, he hadn’t cared. It was the reason they hadn’t bothered with condoms and why she wasn’t even on the pill. And yet...all the signs were presenting themselves. There was a chance she was pregnant. This was wholly uncharted territory.

“Dany! Are you nearly done?” Arya pounded on the door, startling her future sister-in-law out of her reverie. “I’ve really gotta piss!”

“Yeah,” she replied, clearing her throat. “In a minute.”

She gathered her things and opened the door, smiling at Jon’s youngest sister. The nineteen-year-old glared at her playfully.

“You know, I share a bedroom wall with Jon, right?” she quipped and Dany’s mouth practically fell open. “Don’t worry, I’m not a prude or anything. At least somebody’s getting some. Pro-tip, try pulling the bed away from the wall a bit next time.”

Before Dany even had a chance to respond the younger girl had closed the door. Ever since meeting Jon’s sibling’s Dany had been close to them. Sometimes she felt a pang of jealousy. Her own older brother, Viserys, had bolted from the last foster home they’d been in the day he turned eighteen, not that they’d ever been close. He still blamed her for their mother’s death when Dany was born and for their father’s nervous breakdown they eventually drove him to take his own life.

Once, the Targaryens had been fairly wealthy land developers from Valyria, a place everyone referred to as the Old Country. They had a good name, good breeding once upon a time, but since their branch of the Targaryen family tree came to Westeros things had changed. Her father had wantonly squandered a good deal of their money, land, and properties leaving his children with no inheritance to speak of bouncing from one family friend to another.

Dany had been relieved to go away to college, elated that she even got into Westeros University. It was like nothing she had ever experienced, a real baptism by fire and a fresh start from her past of loss, bad boyfriends, heartache and pain. If I look back, I am lost became her mantra and she set her sights on her future. She got involved in student government and volunteer opportunities, preferring to spend her spring and summer breaks on humanitarian aid trips. Her passion was helping women and children in need. Her senior year she was elected president of the student senate.

All of that had changed her life considerably. She met some of her closest friends there, including Missandei, the girl from Naath who had randomly been assigned to be her roommate freshman year. She had studied International Relations and spoke so many languages Dany lost count.

She even kept in touch with some of her professors. Professors Mormont and Selmy and even with a counsellor in the Women’s Center named Quaithe. All of them had left their imprint on Dany, but none more so than Jon.

They’d met while she was on an aid trip to the far North to help the Freefolk- though some still called them Wildlings- settlements there rebuild after a brutally harsh winter. Jon had been a member of the Night’s Watch but was nearing the end of his required service there. Afterwards, he told her he planned to study law to become a public defender with his best friend, Sam Tarly. Now, he had just one year of school left and to pass his bar exam and he’d be set to join a practice or begin one of his own.

“I thought you said you wouldn’t work on this trip,” she frowned when she returned to his room and saw him reading over a case study on his bed. She handed his neatly folded shirt back to him, but he shook his head.

“Keep it,” Jon said. “Looks better on you anyway. And I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it.”

“You smell good,” she observed, plopping down next to him. She ran her hand over his damp curls. “Did you shower already?”

“Yeah, I went downstairs and used Bran’s bathroom.”

Jon’s younger brother’s bathroom and bedroom were both located on the first floor ever since he was confined to a wheelchair years ago. He’d been paralyzed in a climbing accident when he was so young. Soon he’d be headed off to university, though he was still undecided which school he would attend. Dany only half-joked when she referred to him as a genius, but his near photographic memory gave him a leg up on many people. Not only could he remember almost everything he read or studied, he seemed to have an insatiable thirst for learning and knowledge.

“That’s good,” she smiled, pulling the case study away from him and wrapping her arms around one of his. She leaned into him. “We should probably go downstairs for breakfast.”

“We probably should,” he agreed. Nudging her with his nose until she turned her had and his lips found hers. “But then we’d have to get up and move.”

“Mmm but I prefer this.”

“Am I your prisoner then.”

“Not yet,” Dany smiled against his lips. She released him with a sigh. “Not until we say I Do, so your still got time to change your mind.”

“No way, why would I want to do something like that? I wouldn’t have proposed if I didn’t mean it. I love you, Dany. Never doubt it. I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Jon Snow, you’re quite perfect,” replied, unshed tears gleaming in her eyes. “I love you more than anything.”

“Let’s get breakfast,” he whispered, pinching her ass playfully and causing her to yelp.

“You’ve never said anything more romantic to me.”

Dany couldn’t exactly say she was hungry. Her stomach was still unsettled, but she got off the bed just the same and waited for Jon to join her. Part of her wanted to tell him what she suspected and another part of her wanted to keep it to herself until she knew for certain. She knew he wanted to be a father and though they had discussed the possibility of adopting once they were married and settled it killed her that she couldn’t give him a child. At least it had... Now she worried that Jon would be angry with her, that he would think she lied to him. He was going through enough with trying to track down his mother and she didn’t want to burden him with something she wasn’t certain of. No, she would wait until the time was right.

You’re probably worrying yourself for nothing, she thought slinging an arm around Jon’s waist as they made their way downstairs. In a week you’ll laugh at how utterly silly you’ve been.

#Jonerys #Jonerys fic #Jon x Dany

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volumes2lo-gan · 7 years ago

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28 21 prinxiety

I’m not sure what sparked it, but I wrote this in a high shool au, so this is more of a “high school love confession”. (If prompted or inspired, I might write more for this specific au later.)

Prompt

28: Love confession21: “They’re wrong about you.”

Love from Afar

Fandom: Sanders Sides (High school au, Human au)Pairings: PrinxietyWarnings: Bullying

Summary: Virgil’s sophomore year of high school is already going terribly, but a good turn of fate might play a hand in changing that.

A/N: This is hopefully highly unrealistic and I’d like to add for my younger readers that high school bullying like this is hyperbolized in movies, but if you ever face or see anything like this, tell a teacher, staff member, or your principal.

Tagged: @existental-crises @jordisama @here-to-vent @irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @novagalaxy4real @thomas-must-get-to-sleep @emo-space-trash @evanisonfire @lollingtothemax

Virgil was tired of being the subject of everyone’s jokes. High school was bad enough without bullies throwing insults in his face on the daily, but he was thankful that they rarely ever got physical with their violence. He was used to it by now; he was the weird kid that sat alone at lunch, he had no place in their social hierarchy. He’d resigned to his fate at this point and sophomore year was finally starting to take a good turn. He felt the cafeteria bench sink as someone sat beside him. Well, looks like that pleasant thought came too soon.

“Hey Virgil,” the bully said, leaning into his personal space as his buddies sat down around them, successfully trapping him. “Whatcha got there, lunch from home? Or is it a creepy witch bag or something?” There was a chorus of ugly laughter. Virgil had learned by now that if he let them have their fun, they’d eventually get bored and leave. The bully snatched up his bag lunch and dumped it on the table. “Ooo is this a poison apple?” he said, picking up the Granny Smith. “Hey, try it out and hope you don’t die!” The bully tossed it to one of his friends who promptly took a large bite.

“Nope, it’s just disgusting.” The friend said, spitting it out. Virgil kept his head low and tried willing them away. They continued rifling through his lunch and he’d nearly drowned them out when he heard a loud shout from across the cafeteria.

“HEY! STOP IT!” The room went silent. Virgil wasn’t sure who the exclamation was directed at until he glanced up and saw someone stalking towards his table with a scowl. All eyes were on him as he reached the table and barked at the bullies to scram. “Leave him alone, don’t you have some walls to graffiti?” The bullies all exchanged startled looks before jumping up and scurrying out the door.

Virgil kept his head down as his rescuer sat down across from him. The regular cafeteria talk started up again slowly as people turned back to their own tables.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Virgil looked up through his bangs and finally saw who had saved him. Roman, theater kid, popular with the right crowds.

“Uh… y-yeah. Thanks for that,” he mumbled, starting to return his remaining lunch items back to his lunch bag.

“It’s no problem,” he smiled. “I’m Roman, by the way.” Virgil scoffed.

“Yeah, I know who you are. I don’t think there’s anyone here who doesn’t.” He paused for a moment. “Sorry, that came off a little mean. I’m just… Yeah.” His shoulders slumped and he stared down at the table. He saw Roman tilt his head in his peripherals and looked up again to see a sad smile on his face.

“It’s okay, that looked like a pretty rough situation.” He said, sounding rather upset. What does he care? Virgil thought, training his eyes on the red collar of Roman’s jacket.

“It’s whatever,” Virgil said, pulling at the edge of his sleeve. “They all think I’m into some Voodoo dark magic shit, so…” he shrugged.

“Well even if you were, that’s no excuse. There’s never an excuse for that type of behavior.” Virgil shrugged again and Roman seemed to be getting worked up over his nonchalance. “They can’t just treat you like that, Virgil.”

Virgil froze.

“Y-you… you know my name?” he asked quietly, looking into Roman’s eyes for the first time since he’d sat down. They were chocolate brown and full of worry and… care?

“Of course I do, we’ve been in the same class for seven years. I’ve always rather admired you,” he said with a smile, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck as a blush spread across his face. “I just… well the stage is a lot different from real life. On stage there’s a set plan and a script and everything goes like clockwork, but real life doesn’t work like that… I was too nervous to tell you, but now seemed as good a time as any and… I’m sorry if this was all too forward… and now I’m rambling and I just–”

“You don’t want me or my mess,” Virgil interrupted, “I’m just that kid who eats lunch alone.” He spread his arms out to prove his point; they were the only ones sitting at the twelve-person table. “They all think I’m some demon-worshiper who sleeps in a coffin or something.”

“They’re wrong about you,” Roman said, a fire in his eye. “No matter what anyone thinks, you know yourself better than anyone else and they shouldn’t get the final say in how you live your life.” Virgil was startled by this sudden outburst and tried to collect himself before responding.

“I… I guess you’re right, but…” he trailed off. How was he supposed to manage what people thought of him if he couldn’t even manage to fend off a few bullies? “People will still think of me as that kid in the back.”

“Well, that might be true, but you don’t have to be alone.” Virgil looked up at him hopefully. “Do you want to come over to my table? I have some friends I think you’d really like.” Roman gestured to a table on the far side of the cafeteria where two other students were talking. One was reading a book, occasionally looking up and responding as the other flailed his arms to elaborate some kind of story he was telling. Virgil smiled.

“Yeah, okay,” he said, grabbing his lunch and backpack before following Roman over and sitting down. After initial introductions, the other two continued their conversation with periodic input from Roman. They were a rather eclectic group and Virgil couldn’t help himself from smiling a little. Maybe sophomore year wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

#logan writes #prompt fic #prompts #sanders sides #fics #my fic #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #high school au #human au #human sides #angst #bullying #hurt/comfort

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littlev1234 · 7 years ago

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The Young Build Homes - Chapter 1

Fandom: Yowamushi Pedal

Warnings: blood, violence, bullying, homophobic language, death

Words: 4,255

AO3 version: The Young Build Homes

Next Chapter: [Next]

Summary: “Maybe, he thought, there aren’t any such things as good friends or bad friends—maybe there are just friends, people who stand by you when you’re hurt and who help you feel not so lonely. Maybe they’re always worth being scared for, and hoping for, and living for. Maybe worth dying for, too, if that’s what has to be. No good friends. No bad friends. Only people you want, need to be with; people who build their houses in your heart.” – Stephen King, It

A Yowamushi Pedal It AU.

Notes: Please make sure to read the warnings for each chapter. Pennywise will work a little differently in this fic (but the big things like scaring and killing are still very much present). The only main pairing is Miki/Aya; all others will be implied or in the background.

“…high schooler with green and red hair. He was last seen leaving school on Monday afternoon. If anyone has any information regarding his disappearance, please call the emergency hotline…”

As the newswoman switched to an economics report, the young man watching the dim colors of the old boxy television set crossed his arms. He rolled the plastic toothpick between his lips from one side of his mouth to the other as his pensive frown deepened.

“Why can’t I shake off this bad feeling…?” he mumbled. He leaned back on the box he sat on and stretched out his legs, one of which gave a familiar twinge. Absently rubbing his knee—the old injury had ached especially fierce all day—he made sure to avoid bumping his foot into one of the many boxes strewn about the tiny break room.

Logically, the connection between four years ago and this incident was fragile at best. Yet last night’s nightmare flashed across his mind again: the agonized screams ripping out of his own throat, razor-sharp teeth gouging into his knee, the burn of his back scraping against tree roots and uneven ground as claws mercilessly dragged him across the forest floor—

His lungs stuttered with quickened, distressed breaths. Holding his head between his quavering hands, he forced himself to focus on the grounding habit of chewing on and restlessly toying with the toothpick.

Bite, chew, roll. Bite, chew, roll. Bite, chew, roll.

It soon poked the top of his mouth; he must have bent it. But it served its purpose. Just calm enough to string together coherent thought, he spat it out onto his palm and surveyed the damaged stick.

Thanking the fact that his younger sister wasn’t there, he resolved to avoid falling into flashbacks again. The best he could, anyway.

Turning off the television, he cast aside his suspicions. The nightmare had put him on edge, and his brain was making links that weren’t there. That must be it.

Yet he knew that he’d be keeping a closer eye on the news from now on.

Standing, he tossed the toothpick into a nearby trash can, picked up the little container sitting on top of the TV, and shook out a new one. After placing it between his lips, he left the room and closed the door behind him.

Onoda

“We’re going to do a group project starting today. Make groups of three to four people, and then I’ll give you the assignment.”

Shoes scuffed against the floor as students rose from their desks and chatter filled the air. Onoda stared at the artificial wood grain of his desk, and his heart thumped at the prospect of working with potentially uncouth classmates. Since he was not close to anyone in this class, he hoped for the best case scenario: a few stragglers would find themselves wandering to his desk, where they could awkwardly divvy out the work and not speak to each other until the day it was due.

“Onoda, right?”

He looked up as two boys stopped in front of his desk. The one who spoke he recognized as Teshima, an intelligent upperclassman with dark wavy hair. Beside him stood Aoyagi, a far quieter yet subtly strong presence. While Onoda rarely spoke with them, they had never showed hostility toward him in the past, so he heaved an internal sigh of relief.

For a moment his gaze was drawn to the white bandages peeking out from underneath Aoyagi’s bangs, which covered most of where his eye would normally be. A week ago the boy had come to school like that, with the area above his right cheekbone swathed in gauze. And if he was quiet before, then he was nearly silent now. Everyone also took note of how the already close pair were now inseparable, as if Teshima feared letting the other out of his sight. Countless rumors were still running through the halls about them: they’re totally dating and a jealous ex of Teshima’s attacked him, I heard Aoyagi lost his eye by falling on a railroad spike, maybe he stabbed himself and Teshima’s making sure he doesn’t do it again.

Whatever caused the injury, Onoda made sure to not let his gaze linger too long and looked back at Teshima. “Yes, that’s me!” he responded with a tad too much force.

Luckily the two didn’t seem fazed, and Teshima offered him an easygoing smile. “Can we join you?”

After meekly nodding, the pair pulled up chairs, slid them in front of his desk, and sat down.

“We’ll probably have to make some sort of slide show for one of the books we read,” Teshima guessed.

Aoyagi gave a thoughtful hum in response.

“Oh, good point. She did say she wanted us to at least one speech in this class.”

Onoda glanced between them in confusion. How did he get that from Aoyagi’s hum? “A-Ah, well, I hope it’s not a speech. I’m terrible at those.”

“Don’t worry, I can give you pointers if that does happen. And we won’t have to talk up there alone at least,” Teshima reassured.

Despite his misgivings about public speaking, he had to admit that the other’s words managed to ease a sliver of his worry.

When Aoyagi placed a phone in front of him, Onoda blinked at the “new contact” screen several times before he realized what the other was asking. “…you want my phone number?” He tentatively picked up the phone, added his full name and number, and then handed it back to Aoyagi, who checked the screen and gave a satisfied nod.

“Just in case we have to talk outside of school,” Teshima elaborated. Before he could say more, the teacher started handing out their assignments—it was just a slide show project, thank god. The students would be listlessly staring at the slides instead of being forced to focus to focus on him anxiously slogging through a speech.

The three spent the rest of the period discussing their topic, and Onoda was eternally grateful that his partners seemed amiable and easy to work with.

Exiting the classroom with books and folders held against his chest, Onoda glanced down at the Love Hime bookmark sticking out of a textbook. On the glossy paper, a purple-haired anime smiled brightly back at him while soft pink bubbles covered the background. Somehow it had almost fallen out of the top of the book; he pinched it between his fingers and slid it back between the pages.

Just as he started to lift his head, he collided with a solid torso and stumbled. His books tumbled from his fingers.

Panic flared in his chest and tightened his throat. “I-I’m so sorry!” Hastily dropping to his knees to pick up his scattered belongings, he was all too aware of the eyes on him that he couldn’t bring himself to face.

“Ugh, it’s that weird guy.” An unfamiliar voice scoffed to his right. Onoda bit his lip to stop it from trembling. “I bet he was too busy thinking about kinky cartoon shit to look where he was going.”

“Oi.”

He flinched at the sharp voice directly in front of him—that second one must be who he bumped into. Keeping his terrified gaze firmly on the floor, he snatched up the last paper with shaking hands. Squeaking out another “s-sorry!” he scrambled to his feet started rushing down the hallway.

A hand flew out and grasped his shoulder.

Inhaling sharply, he jerked away from the touch and accidentally slammed himself against a locker door. Past the ringing in his ears he caught another voice.

“Onoda! Onoda, it’s us, it’s okay!”

Naruko. Instantly his shoulders slumped with relief, and he released a jittery sigh. Finally lifting his gaze, he caught the redhead’s concerned expression. Miki and Aya, standing on either side of Naruko, also cast him worried looks.

“Did something happen?” Miki gently questioned.

Aya started rolling up her sleeves to reveal leanly muscled forearms. “Did someone pick on you?”

“No, no, it’s fine, just a little uh,” he quickly rambled. The moment had been horrific, but he had gotten off with only a couple insults. It could have been a lot worse. “I bumped into someone. I was so scared that I picked up my things and ran off! That’s all.”

“You sure that’s all? Because Aya and I can go find the bastard and beat him to a pulp,” Naruko promised, resolve sparking in his red eyes like embers ready to catch fire at the slightest gust.

Seeing them worry over his wellbeing and rise to his defense never failed to stir warmth in his heart. Even so, he smiled gratefully and shook his head. He had no desire to harm—it had been his fault the altercation happened anyway—and he didn’t want his friends to get themselves injured either. Naruko and Aya were persistent, fiery fighters when they wanted to be. But even they could only do so much against bigger bullies who always moved in packs, as proved by the blotchy bruise on Naruko’s thin arm.

“I’m sure. Thanks.” Noticing one of their usual group members was absent, he glanced around. “Where’s Manami?”

“He wasn’t in class,” Miki recalled.

Aya rolled her eyes. “Like that’s any surprise. He only shows up half the time.”

“I’ll text him in a minute. He might still want to hang out with us later,” Onoda said.

Naruko slung an arm around his shoulders, and he flashed a toothy grin. “Speaking of that! Miki, you said your brother is tossing out the expired snacks today, right?” Miki’s brother ran a convenience store, and whenever he built up on expired stock that he couldn’t sell to customers, he left it to her and her friends.

“Yep!”

“Sweet! I call dibs on the hot Cheetas.”

Out of the corner of his eye, Onoda noticed someone walk up to the nearby bulletin board adorning the opposite wall.

“Is there something new on there?” Naruko asked as he and the others looked over as well.

“I don’t think so…but someone’s looking at it,” the bespectacled male responded.

In the center of the board, surrounded by the lunch menu and flyers discouraging drugs and sex, was a missing poster. The disgruntled expression of a slim, angular face with green hair faced the passing students. A corner was slightly creased; the paper had hung there for a month now, so it was a wonder it hadn’t received more damage. Yet the person surveyed the poster as if he might find something new by searching long enough.

“I think that’s Toudou. I’ve seen him looking at the board a few times, but usually in the mornings.” Even though there was no possibility Toudou could overhear them, Miki lowered her voice nonetheless.

Unable to see his face, they watched his thumb tenderly smooth out the crease on the poster.

“They still don’t have any leads, do they?” Onoda morosely mumbled.

Aya shook her head. “Not that I know of.”

Receiving the distinct feeling that they were intruding upon an intimate scene, despite the students talking and milling about the open hallways, they were about to look away when several students approached Toudou. Like a mood switch had been flipped, his mouth morphed into a charismatic smile as he said some smug, flirtatious remark that left a few people swooning.

“…hey.”

Onoda’s heart missed a beat. That voice…and it’s close…!

He took a deep breath. His friends were beside him, everything would be all right, and no punches had been thrown yet. Those were all good signs. Probably. Maybe he just wanted to warn him not to bump into him again?

Turning with his pulse pounding, he faced the tall male looking directly at him. Before he could wilt under the stern gaze, Miki stepped forward to divert the other’s attention.

“Hi,” she calmly greeted. Her sunny smile worked as a soft barrier against possible animosity; whether the gesture grew genuine or turned into a steely frown depended on the stranger’s next lines.

He glanced away and rubbed the back of his neck. While his mouth remained in a set, stern line, the actions almost made it seem…like he felt awkward?

“I saw this on the floor after you left. I’m assuming it’s yours.” He held out the Love Hime bookmark.

Onoda hesitated in surprise. “I…yeah, that’s mine.” He gingerly accepted it and slipped it between random pages of his math textbook.

The subtle tension in Miki’s shoulders dissipated, and in turn so did Aya’s. Naruko still eyed the other distrustfully.

“What’s your game?” Naruko demanded. “I recognize you. You’re that popular hotshot Imaizumi, aren’t you? Did someone dare you to come over here?”

“Nothing, yes, and no,” Imaizumi coolly answered. “Are you done interrogating someone twice your size?”

“What did you just say—”

Aya placed a hand on her hip. “Can’t blame us for asking. Most people who walk up to us don’t have good intentions in mind.”

“Actually, I think I recognize you too. You’re in my art class,” Miki realized.

Imaizumi nodded. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he checked the screen. “I have to go.”

“Wait!” The outburst left Onoda’s lips before he thought better of it. Sheepish at Imaizumi’s raised eyebrow, he swallowed and continued. “Ah, thank you! For giving my bookmark back. It really means a lot.”

His gaze flicked away again. “…you’re welcome. And that asshole I was with…ignore everything he said.”

Without giving them time to respond, Imaizumi turned and headed down the hall. Still uncertain what to make of the exchange, the group turned back to each other.

“He seemed nice,” Miki remarked.

“I dunno about that…something about him rubs me the wrong way. But he did give Onoda’s thing back, so he’s not on my immediate shit list,” Naruko grumbled.

Aya abruptly, if lightly, smacked Onoda across the back of his head, and he gave a startled yelp. “Ignore everything an asshole said? So someone was mean to you!”

“A-Ah! Um, there was some mean stuff…but no one physically hurt me, I swear!”

“And it’s over with now,” Miki assured her, and she grasped the other female’s hand. Aya clicked her tongue at the obvious attempt to calm her, but she curled her fingers around Miki’s hand nonetheless. “And Onoda says he’s okay. But next time you will tell us if someone hurts you again, right?”

“Yeah,” Onoda agreed, and he hoped he could stick to that promise. He appreciated that his friends would defend him, he really did; yet sometimes words stuck in his throat, and he’d rather ignore the bad stuff that happened than talk about it.

Naruko hummed in satisfaction. “Good! We gotta watch out for each other. And it’s not like you’re the only one who needs help; I know Aya would beat the hell out of anyone who tries to touch me. Not that there’s no one I can’t fight myself, but that’s not the point!”

“Damn straight I would,” Aya confirmed.

“Oh! Sorry to change the subject, but I just realized what time it is,” Miki commented, glancing at her phone. “We should hurry before my brother starts wondering where we are.”

“What are we waiting for then? Let’s go!” Naruko led the way, and the other three had to quicken their steps to catch up. Once through the doors, he slowed to a walking pace due to Aya and Onoda’s complaints.

Onoda fell into step beside Naruko, while Miki and Aya led the way, hands still joined. He shot a quick text to Manami about where they were going and stuffed his phone back in his pocket.

A random student that strode by them loudly whispered to another student. “There go the lesbos; can’t believe they’re still hanging out with those boys. I thought all lesbos are manhaters.”

“Piss off,” Naruko growled, even though the aggressors were likely out of earshot. Aya scowled and flipped the bird to their backs, and Miki threaded her fingers through Aya’s instead of letting go.

Onoda’s grip on his books tightened. Outrage simmered, yet he didn’t know what to do with it. Aya and Naruko usually channeled their aggression into fights and spitting insults, but the bespectacled male had all the strength of a baby bird. Miki countered with passionate, silver-tongued rebuttals of defense. However, he was terrible with keeping composure. Maybe he could act more like Manami? Manami deflected slurs like he couldn’t care less what others thought, but the second hate was directed toward a friend he would gain an almost unstable gleam to his eyes that scared off many. Too bad Onoda was as scary as a hamster.

He wanted to help, wanted to protect his friends, and he despised that he was so useless at it. All he could do was take hits meant for them when possible and support them in the aftermath.

Naruko was talking again. Pulling himself out of his thoughts, Onoda smiled back and responded. The four left the school grounds without further incident, and thanks to their amiable conversations he found his mood lifting.

A few blocks down the street stood a small retail store. The outside was tan brick and tall windows. Across the top in bold blue paint read “Kanzaki Konvenience.”

They entered through the front door. Miki’s older brother, Kanzaki Toji, waved at them from the register.

“Yo,” he greeted, the ever-present toothpick moving as he spoke. “The stuff’s in the backroom for you all to go through.”

“Awesome! I’m getting those hot Cheetas!”

“Fine, but you better not get in between me and the Sour Batch Brats!”

Aya and Naruko rushed to the back. Onoda and Miki gave fond, amused sighs as Kanzaki chuckled.

“Good to know their appetites are healthy,” Kanzaki commented, tone light with sarcasm. “So, did you all have a good day at school?”

Both teenagers hesitated.

Smile diminishing with empathy, Kanzaki ran a hand through his hair. “Not so great, I’m guessing.”

“It could have been worse,” Miki piped up.

Onoda nodded. “That’s true…I did meet three nice people today. There are these two guys I have to do a project with. One of them is quiet, so I never know what he’s thinking. But some people are just quiet, ah, kind of like me when I get scared. Anyway, the other one’s nice and good at schoolwork. Then the third guy, Imaizumi. He gave me back my bookmark…looking back on it, he was so cool, facing Miki like that…!” His giddy smile had widened with each fond sentence.

She grabbed his arm, her grin matching his. “He really was cool! Especially the way he answered Naruko like that.”

The muffled squeaking of a plastic bag being yanked open came through the cracked door.

“Hate to interrupt you two, but you should get back there before all the snacks are taken,” Kanzaki advised.

“Right! We’ll let you get back to work,” Miki said over her shoulder as she went into the backroom.

“One more thing, Onoda.”

“Hm?” He paused right before he reached the door.

“When you go home from here, you use the road with the Tadokoro bakery, right?”

“Yes?”

Kanzaki plucked the toothpick from his lips and held it between his fingers. “The Tadokoros adopted two big dogs today. I’m sure they’ll stay in the yard, but I wanted to let you know.”

Dogs. Onoda could handle the little ones, as uneasy as they made him. But the loud, booming barks and massive size of larger canines never failed to set him on edge. No matter how well trained they were, he couldn’t ignore how easily such animals could maim him if they chose to.

He nodded gratefully. “I-I’ll keep that in mind.”

With that, he left to join the others. Haphazardly piled onto the floor and on boxes, various expired snacks waited patiently for their stomachs. Naruko finished gorging on a bag of hot Cheetos before grabbing more bags of chips with his cheese dust covered fingers. He then stuffed them into his ratty backpack. He always gathered more than his friends; he would divide it up at home amongst himself and his family.

Miki and Aya sat shoulder to shoulder, and Onoda plopped down right next to a stack of chocolate bars, one of which he promptly opened and bit into.

Miki curiously checked the ingredients on the back of a box of Watermelon Bop-Tarts. “Dextrose, malic acid, xanthum gum, red 40 lake…I wonder how they come up with these names.”

“They sound dangerous for something we’re supposed to eat,” Onoda nonchalantly commented. He then bit another chunk off his chocolate and, when she opened the Bop-Tart box and handed a package to him, he accepted it without the slightest hint of concern.

“It’s a risk I’m willing to take!” Naruko moved his fingers to his mouth, about to lick off the cheese dust, when a packet of wet wipes lightly smacked into his arm.

“You touched stuff with those fingers.” Miki nodded her head at his backpack. “Don’t put them in your mouth.”

“Fine, fine,” he grumbled and moodily cleaned his fingers with a wet wipe.

The door opened once more. They looked up to see Manami, who sported his usual airy grin. A few leaves stuck to his wrinkled shirt, and a twig was caught in his hair.

“Manami!” Onoda happily greeted. “We were wondering where you were.”

“You look like you just climbed a tree,” Aya remarked.

Sitting between Onoda and Naruko, Manami plucked a wipe out of the packet sitting on the redhead’s lap. “I did.”

Confusion flashed over the others’ faces—only for them to shrug it off a few seconds later.

“I didn’t know you were good at climbing trees,” Miki said.

Manami thoroughly sanitized his hands before dropped the used wipe on the floor. “I wanted to see what the forest looked like from higher up.”

Onoda cast him a wide-eyed, worried glance. The closest forest was on the border of Sohoku, and it was off limits! What if the bear that hurt Kanzaki four years ago came back?!

The blue-haired male noticed his look and cast him a reassuring smile. “Don’t worry, I only climbed a tree at the very edge of the forest. It was fine.”

“Besides, nothing can kill a crazy bastard like him,” Aya reminded. Naruko nodded in agreement.

“Ah ha…I feel like there could have been a better way to put that…” Manami abashedly tugged at the collar of his shirt.

Still unconvinced, Onoda struggled to prevent his mind from falling into thoughts of what terrible events could have happened.

“Why don’t you tell us about the newest episode of Love Hime?” Manami suggested.

Catching on, Miki nodded. “I heard it was really intense.”

Onoda instantly brightened, all fear banished, and he excitedly clasped his hands together. “It was! It started off with a flashback to episode eleven, when…” He babbled on until he had gushed over every detail of the episode. While he caught his breath, the others struck up another silly conversation and started cleaning up wrappers. Then they gathered their piles and headed outside.

Right before they parted ways to head home, Onoda was relieved to hear Miki asking Manami to be more careful. The bespectacled male’s house was in the opposite direction of everyone else’s, so he walked home alone.

The familiar path presented no anxiety until he reached Tadokoro’s bakery. He made sure to stay on the opposite side of the narrow street. Even so, through the tall fence, which had gaps in between posts, he spotted wide canine noses curiously snuffling. No deep barks were directed his way, thank goodness. Hurrying past, he didn’t notice he was holding his breath until he was well away from the building.

He was grateful Kanzaki warned him beforehand; knowing they were there had allowed him to brace himself.

The rest of his walk went without incident, and soon enough he retreated into his house and joined his mother for dinner.

The next day, Teshima and Aoyagi weren’t in class.

While the other students moved back into their groups, Onoda checked his phone.

He hadn’t received any texts from them. However, they could just be busy with something else or sick and had forgotten to contact him.

Since they had his number but he didn’t have theirs—he should have asked for it in hindsight—he had no way to ask them where they were.

Oh well; they still had plenty of days left to finish their project, and they would likely be back tomorrow or the day after.

So he slid his phone back into his pocket, took out the assignment, and started working on his part while the other groups gossiped around him.

Two days later with still no word, Onoda woke to the abrupt, grating sound of a phone alert. Reluctantly rolling over, he patted his nightstand until his fingers found hard plastic and thin frames. In the dark of early morning, he slipped the glasses on and squinted against the brightness of the device’s screen.

His burning eyes shot wide open.

EMERGENCY ALERT

SOHOKU MISSING CHILDREN ALERT

Shock numbed all sensation except for the foreboding churning in his stomach.

His thumb hovered over the screen. He didn’t know how much time passed; the phone went dark from inaction.

As the sun’s rising rays peeked through the blinds, he finally opened the alert’s details and confirmed his premonition.

#yowamushi pedal #it #onoda sakamichi #kanzaki miki #tachibana aya #naruko shoukichi #imaizumi shunsuke #kanzaki toji #manami sangaku #teshima junta #aoyagi hajime #my fics #fanfic #blood #homophobia #violence #death #bullying

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fenvincible · 7 years ago

Text

I wrote a thing.

I’ve been inspired by @writergrump‘s merman Arin AU. It’s super cool and I”m sure everybody in the fandom so far has read it, if you haven’t give it a moment and do so. anyway, I was inspired and this inspiration took flight, they’re completely to thank for the fact that I’ve spent the greater part of the last two weeks researching the ocean and working on this! It’s my work but deeply inspired by them and their themes. This is the first thing I’ve written for egobang, and if enough people like it I will continue and publish the rest! Thank you. 🖤

Fatigue, heavy and hard, settled into his bones. He pumped his arms ferociously, feeling the freezing water suck the energy out of him, but still he pumped his arms and kicked his legs. The sunlight refracted through the water, but it wasn’t warm. He was still so far below the surface, fighting wasn’t helping as his body was continually pulled down. His lungs and fingertips burned from the lack of oxygen. Though the energy was sapping out of his body as he floated further from the surface he continued to swing his arms and kick his legs. He needed air.

An exasperated yell escaped his lips but the ocean cut him short. Sea water eagerly, happily, filled Dan’s mouth and lungs, leaving the taste of salt on every surface it caressed. He was giving up. The lack of oxygen made life just fuzzy enough Dan didn’t realize he had stopped fighting the inevitable. Just as the haze in his vision was closing, the lack of oxygen causing him to black out, I see what looks like an angel. An angel with a tail? Sunshine blonde hair floating around their head, strong arms pushing me towards the surface, and a beautiful tail. Glistening in shades of purples and blues. I see a smile before the blackness takes over.

Dan woke harshly, his breath burning his throat. Hair damp and body covered in the thin film of a cold sweat, almost like he had just been dragged from the ocean again. As Dan’s breathing slowed he practiced the grounding techniques he used in the years following his near drowning.

In the sublime dusk of the early morning Dan looked slowly around his room. He brought his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms around.

“I see, a book, my favorite shirt on the ground, phone on the charger to my right, my computer on the desk in front of me, the picture of Debbie and Avi from last Thanksgiving.” Dan states, just above a whisper.

“I can touch my blankets, my pillow, my hair, and if I’m lucky an awesome pair of boobs.

I can hear the birds singing, the grandfather clock in the hall, my neighbors fucking dog, like it isn’t balls early in the fucking morning.

I can smell the soap from my shower last night, and the coffee that started automatically brewing this morning.” Dan took a deep breath in,

“Speaking of the coffee, I can already taste it.” Dan whispered, the cycle finished as he threw back the blankets and made his way to his bathroom.

A quick moment later and Dan was standing in the hot jet of water. The dream quickly fading from his mind as he grasped at the smoky tendrils. All children had a near death experience, Dan thought. As he guided the soap frothed towel across his chest and down his arms. His was weird, he still feels the arms pushing him he still sees the plump pink lips. Dan spent years drawing and coloring the blue-purple tail that he associated with his savior. He understood what the doctors and his parents said. He has excitedly swam too far out, he got swept up in the current, his head was fuzzy as the buildup of carbon dioxide in his lungs drove his brain into insanity. He imagined the water angel, later classified by Dana as they conspired together as a mermaid, as he was miraculously able to break away from the current and swim to the surface.

As he worked the towel down his legs and rinsed off the lingering bubbles Dan thought about the aftermath of his near drowning. His fascination with the ocean, with the aquatic life he was sure he had seen. Instead of developing a fear of the water, as some might do after nearly drowning, Dan had become fascinated, obsessed really. He excelled in the sciences throughout elementary school. Soared through his earth sciences classes in high school and got a scholarship to the University of California – Los Angeles. Here he began majoring in marine biology. His passion only growing year after year as he got involved with more sciences and formulated research theories.

Now, in his final year of his undergraduate degree, Dan had the most coveted research opportunity in the entire school ahead of him. It wasn’t only due to his hard work, assuming that would be a lie. Dan knew, and thought about it with a smile, that his ability to be on the receiving end of this grant, was because of his bond with the physics professor.

Dr. Brian Wecht was a strict looking man approaching his tenure at the University. With a PhD in physics and his interest in the ocean he had become one of Dan’s favorite professors. They had bonded quickly over late nights in the labs and theories on what types of life would succeed in the deepest parts of the ocean. When applying for the Universities largest yearly grant to investigate the depths of the ocean Dan had needed a professor to vouch for him. Brian offered to vouch as well as assist Dan in his application process. Without Brian’s help, Dan was sure he would have lost the grant to a graduate student researching something stupid, like the mating habits of dolphins. No, Dan wanted to research something real, and Dan’s research started today.

By the time Dan was in the kitchen enjoying his coffee and a bagel his phone had been blown up. He had several texts from Brian and the other student on the research project, Suzy.

Pumped?! Was all Suzy had sent, but her excitement was clear through the messaged.

Like Ron Jeremy’s dick! Dan quickly replied, knowing Suzy was probably on her way to the site.

Brian had sent several

Hey super butt baby

Wait was that professional?

Fuck it

I hope you’re ready

We are gonna start this project today

So call me daddy and get your ass down here ASAP

Dan giggled quietly, finishing his bagel. As he typed out a reply to Brian, sometimes it’s impossible to believe the man has a wife, a child and a literal fucking PhD.

That’s not at all professional, Wecht. Be there in a minute.

Though early morning LA traffic was peaceful Dan knows that within forty-five minutes the freeways will be backed up and a fifteen-minute commute will suddenly take an hour. He was thankful that Brian had insisted they be on site before the sun was even up, preferring to get a head start on anything that might go wrong. The man was childish but brilliant, Dan thought as he pulled his car into the beach front area reserved by the University for the research students.

“Dan! Hey!” Suzy shouted, almost tackling Dan in her excited hug. Dan might be considered brilliant by some peers and professors, if that was the case Suzy was a genius. She graduated high school a year early and entered the University at the age of 17 having already completed a year and a half worth of credit hours. She was two years younger than Dan but also a senior looking into grad schools. Her long black hair was only changed by the violet streak she kept. Face only marked by the eyeliner she somehow did every day, making her look as alluring as Cleopatra must have.

“Are you ready? Are you excited? I got you a tea” Suzy handed Dan a warm paper cup that radiated warmth and the calming scent of Earl Grey.

“I think I’m ready. I know I’m excited, I got up before my alarms. Thank you, what did I do to deserve you Scuze?”

“You still don’t, but if you’re lucky you can earn if after today.” Suzy laughed. Leading the way to the pier, where Brian stood. She dressed casually in jeans and a sweater, good choices since the morning chill was still lingering, made worse by the cold ocean stretching out in front of them. Brian, on the other hand, looked stern as always. Blue eyes constantly assessing and taking in the world around him. Slacks and a navy button up completed the look of stern professor. The façade was broken the moment Brian saw Dan though.

“Hey dick.” Brian broke into a smile, shifting his features harsh to soft and fun. “Are you ready to be in the water?”

Dan nodded excitedly, hair bouncing wildly, beyond ready to utilize the Universities multimillion dollar submarine. Behind the layers of science and research questions that has brought him here, basically he was just a kid with a want to go deep into the ocean and see some cool fucking shit.

“Bet your ass! I am beyond ready, I am so wet for this.” Dan walked slightly behind Brian and Suzy as they moved down the pier, toward the submarine waiting for them. Ironically the University had painted the entire submarine banana yellow, when Dan had laughed and pointed out the relevance to the Beatles song released in the 60s Dean Terry had given him a blank stare. He realized the color of the submarine wasn’t inspired by John Lennon before he quietly sat through the rest of the meeting with Dean Terry.

The submarine was fantastic and huge. Large enough to fit two people though today only Dan would be going down. A plethora of buttons and levers, gauges and displays ran over the front of the sub. Measuring everything from temperature, to depth, pressure levels. Tools to grab samples and take pictures were available. Today Suzy, Brian and Danny had gathered to take the sub as deep as they possibly could. The goal was a depth of about 3,500 feet, the ocean floor near California, if they got the submarine to that level with no issues their next mission would put them in Guam, to explore Mariana’s Trench.

“Are you ready, man?” Brian inquired? Looking at Dan as Suzy went over the submarine, doing one of three more checks the team would do before Dan went under.

“I- I think so. I had the nightmare again last night man. But, I want to do this. I need to do this.” Dan had told Suzy and Brian about his childhood, the time he nearly drowned and how that affected his life. “I’m gonna- gonna go change real quick.”

Dan ran to the bathroom, taking less than a moment to change into a wetsuit, preparing for the worst case scenario. When he exited Suzy had finished her check of the submarine and Brian was having his go at it. Dan watched as the man moved methodically, going over every gauge, lever and reading in the submarine before checking the steering and controls. Finding those satisfactory he moved to the oxygen tanks and “just in case equipment stored in the submarine. Checking the pressure gauges to ensure they were working once more Brian gave a contended hum before nodding to Dan.

“I think it’s ready for you.”

Dan jumped into the submarine, feeling the water craft bob under his added weight as it adjusted. Dan checked his gauges and dials, everything fell within the required areas. The oxygen tank was full and the equipment where he could grab it quickly if things went awry. With a last, precautionary verbal check with Suzy and Brian they were finally ready.

Dan was going to dive into the deep.

The descent started normally, the readings remained well within their limits. Pressure gauges weren’t indicating any issues. Dan continued slowly. 250 feet, 500 feet. The pressure in the cabin remained stable. Oxygen levels were good. Dan started looking around. His goal was to simply descend and ascend safely, proving that the craft was ready for their trip to Guam.

“Earth to ‘Sexbang’ I’m thinking a certain scientist forgot to check in with his anxious team.” Suzy’s voice broke through Dan’s thoughts as he took in the sights around him.

“Right Scuze. I’m sorry. Readings look solid on my side. Is the camera feed okay?”

“Camera feed is fantastic. Our readings look good. How are you feeling?” This time the voice was Brian’s, playfulness gone from his tone. Dan imagined him starting at the feed, icy blue eyes roaming the screen as they took in what Dan was seeing and looked for what Dan might miss.

“I’m good. Oxygen is still filtering in well, not yet stuffy. We should add a music player to this damn submarine. I could really go for some Rush right now. Sing to me Brian?”

“In your dreams.”

Dan giggled, once again thankful for the automatic bond he had felt in Brian’s presence and for Suzy, a glue allowing them to get work done while having fun.

“I’m continuing descent. Looks like we are at 1,500 feet now. I think when we get to Guam we should start with margaritas on the beach.”

“I’m only investing in those if Holly gets to come. I’m sure there’s a bird or two there she will be excited to meet.” Suzy added. Always ready to spend more time with Holly. Nothing was written in stone yet, but Dan was sure they were more than friends and roommates like they said.

“I’ll appeal to the dean to allow Holly to come if you let us have one really nice evening on the beach, no paperwork.” Dan said as his descent reached 2,000 feet. Already imagining the fun they would have in Guam.

“Deal.” Suzy’s voice was distracted. Dan heard shuffling as Suzy and Brian moved around the temporary set up.

Time seemed to slow down as things went from great to terrible.

The oxygen levels in the submarine dropped. The cabin erupted into a shrill wine as a red light bathed the dash in front of Dan. Something was wrong.

“D-Dan! Dan, what’s happening?” Brian’s voice was brisk but concerned. The concern was enough to raise the hairs on the back of Dan’s neck.

“I- Brian. I don’t know. All of my readings are fine. They’re not coming across as alarming. What about yours?”

“Everything is good here Dan. Come back up. Slowly. Don’t go any further down. Come back up now.” Suzy’s voice was stern, using the mothering tone she often used when Dan and Brian got out of hand.

“Yeah, I- uh, okay. Yeah.” Dan’s descent had just taken him nearly 2,300 feet below sea level. He was sure only a few seconds had passed, maybe even only one second before Dan heard a popping sound he knew wasn’t good.

“Shit.” Was all Dan heard before water was rushing into the submarine. He didn’t have a spare moment to grab the oxygen. He didn’t have a moment to think.

The water didn’t slow, didn’t hesitate as it rushed into the submarine, filling every space. The water didn’t hesitate as it pushed Dan, hard, to the side knocking his head against the metal siding of the submarine. The water didn’t hesitate as it began to fill Dan’s lungs and his vision faded to blackness.

When Dan woke his lungs were still burning with the sting of salt water. Brian and Suzy leaned over him, concern written over their faces.

“Dan! Oh my god.” Suzy gushed, hands automatically roving over the man, checking for any injuries.

“Scuze?” Dan coughed. “What the fuck happened man?”

Dan looked up to see Suzy looking uncomfortable, Brian looking nearly angry.

“The sub.. something happened. The pressure gauges weren’t reading correctly. Something went wrong.” Brian stated, an unusual edge to his voice as he spoke. “The ships integrity failed about the time you hit 2,500 feet. I think you hit your head. I’m not sure, we should get you to a doctor.”

“I- hit my head? How did I get out?” Nothing made sense, Dan should be dead not here asking questions about how he avoided death by drowning. Again.

At this Brian and Suzy looked uncomfortable, Brian even looked angry. They both looked behind them, Dan followed their gaze.

Stuck in a net was a sight Dan never thought he would see. A man with beautiful brown hair to his shoulders. A pink streak flowing through the hair. A look of dismay on his face as he struggled against his binds. What caught Dan’s eye, took his breath away was the beautiful tail the man had, starting just below his belly button, where a normal humans naval would have been. The tail was an array of pinks, and caught the sun in the most beautiful ways. Dan watched as Dean Terry looked over the creature, a cold curiosity in his eyes.

“They wouldn’t let him get away.” Brian sighed, voice full of sadness and anger. “He saved your life and they captured him.”

#egobang #merman arin au #mermArin AU #fee writes.

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enby-angel · 8 years ago

Text

Model Material

Author: Willow Angel (willow0angel; Willow_Angel) Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Warnings: N/A Fandom: Supernatural (TV) Category: M/M Relationship: Gabriel/Sam Winchester Characters: Gabriel (Supernatural); Sam Winchester; Meg Masters; Hael (Supernatural); Dean Winchester; Castiel (Supernatural) (mentioned) Tags: Fluff; Art; art class; Model; art model Sam Winchester; art student Gabriel Novak; Sam is a perfect human specimen; Gabriel is a Little Shit; Gabriel is a Tease; Gabriel is a Flirt; Gabriel cannot handle Sam Winchester's perfection; Dean is a Little Shit; Dean teases Sam; Dinne; rdinner date; Implied Sexual Content; SO MUCH FLUFF; Tooth-Rotting Fluff; i had so much fun writing this; Tumblr; Tumblr Prompt; tumblr prompt fill; dirty-minded Gabriel

Summary: AU. Gabriel is an art student that is dumbfounded by the new model.

Ao3 Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8160124

---

Gabriel Novak made his way down the college halls towards his class, his thoughts spinning from one topic to the next in a matter of seconds. He pulled a lollipop out of his pocket and popped it in his mouth as he thought.

“Hey, Gabe!”

Gabriel turned to see his favourite redhead jogging up to him. “Heya Charlie Bear, how are you?” he asked as Charlie came to a stop beside him.

“Alright,” she replied, panting a little. “What’cha doing?”

Gabriel winked at her. “Thinking about who the new model for my art class might be,” he said.

“Oh, that’s right! You guys get a new one today!” Charlie laughed.

“Yeah, hopefully it’s a good-looking one this time,” Gabriel sighed wistfully – the last model they had wasn’t exactly on his ‘Would Bang’ list. And that was saying something; it was a pretty long list.

“Hey!” Charlie exclaimed. “The last one you had was hot!”

“Oh, please,” Gabriel scoffed. “The only thing real about her was her bitchy attitude, and even that’s questionable. She was totally unproportioned! She even wore hair extensions! Not to mention her boobs were just way too big to be natural. I don’t even know why they brought her in.”

“Really?” Charlie said, sounding disappointed.

“I am an art student, Charlie Bear, I know these things,” Gabriel pointed out, and Charlie elbowed him in the ribs and rolled her eyes. “Oi!”

“Here’s your stop!” Charlie said brightly. She winked at him. “Good luck!”

Now it was Gabriel’s turn to roll his eyes as he waved and opened the door to enter the classroom. A few people in the already nearly-full room looked up to see who had walked in.

“Mr Novak,” one of his classmates said, imitating their teacher’s annoyed accent. “How good of you to finally join us.”

“Shut your cakehole, Hael,” Gabriel shot back.

“Hey Gabe?” another classmate, Meg, asked. “Do you know who the new model is?”

“No idea whatsoever,” Gabriel answered, shrugging his shoulders. “I was just talking to Charlie about it. She thinks the last one was hot.”

Meg snorted. “Yeah, well, hopefully this one’s actually human.”

Gabriel laughed, and took a seat next to her and began setting up his equipment. He glanced at the stool at the front of the room, wondering who would be sitting there this time. Would it be a boy or a girl? Would they be dark-skinned or light? Would they generally fit into society’s view of “normal” or “sexy” or “beautiful”, or would they lie outside of the norm?

Well, he was about to find out.

The door swung open again and their teacher walked in, followed by a-

Whoa, this guy was freaking tall! Like, moose size! What the hell? He was also hot, like, really hot. Seriously, he zoomed up to the top of Gabriel’s ‘10/10 Totally Would Bang’ list, and he wasn’t even naked yet.

Gabriel looked back down at his sketch book, trying to appear busy.

“Afternoon, ladies and gents!” the teacher exclaimed, clapping her hands together. “Now here’s the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” she went on, without waiting for an answer. “This here is Sam, and he’ll be our model for the week! Be nice, okay? Especially you, Gabriel. I’m watching you.”

Gabriel looked up to see Sam watching him with a bit of worry on his face. Gabriel smirked and winked, waiting just long enough before looking down to see a tinge of pink spread across his cheeks.

“Like I said, I’m watching you. Now Sam, if you’d like to take the robe off and take a seat just there, we can get started!”

There was a shuffle throughout the room as everyone got out their pencils and erasers and flipped to new pages in their books and whatnot. Gabriel was trying hard not to imagine what he would see before he actually saw.

He didn’t even look up when there were a few wow’s and ooh’s. But when he saw Meg freeze next to him and give out a low “Oh my god”, he did look up.

“Holy mother-!” He slapped a hand over his mouth when he realised that he’d basically screeched that at the top of his lungs, his voice cracking in the middle. A few people burst out laughing and Meg subsided into a fit of giggles. “What the fuck,” he mumbled through his hand, quickly leaning back and staring at the perfect human specimen sitting on the stool, and was therefore completely unprepared when he leaned too far back and promptly went crashing to the floor.

Now the whole room was laughing, but Gabriel couldn’t care less. He was used to it, as he was the school Trickster, after all. Being the cause of laughter was basically the job description.

Meg helped him up, and then everyone settled down and began drawing. Gabriel’s mind was whirring away.

How in Hell was it possible to be that physically perfect? This guy, this Sam, was so hot he could melt the sun. While he was drawing, Gabriel had plenty of excuses to stare this guy down. At about six-foot-fifteen, he was definitely a guy that worked out. He was muscled up to the max, and he even had a tattoo of some sort of pentagram inside some sort of sun-like shape on the left side of his chest. It took Gabriel a few tries to get that right.

Gabriel always considered his hair long for a boy’s, but Sam’s hair was longer and it was somehow, absolutely gorgeous. Could hair be gorgeous? Yeah, yeah it could.

Gabriel took his time with this drawing. Partially because he wanted to get this piece of perfection down on paper as best he could, partially because he kept staring at him for too long, and partially because his mind was going places that nobody really needed to know about.

Oh, how he would love to just eat this boy up and ravish him all night long. He was just yummy.

But he kept those thoughts to himself, of course.

After a while, people began to finish and started leaving. Meg gave him a look that said she knew what he was planning, and Gabriel just winked at her. Eventually, she packed up and left, too. The teacher got called out of the classroom to do something and in the end, there were only two people left in the room.

Sam and Gabriel.

“You’re taking your time,” Sam commented, but not in a snarky way. As if it was just a casual observation said in a kind tone. And oh god the sound of his voice made Gabriel think unholy thoughts.

So much for being named after an Archangel, he thought smugly. “I always take my time with people like you,” Gabriel replied, putting his sketch book down and leaning his chin on one hand.

Sam laughed, and it was like honey. “I bet you do,” he said, standing up and shrugging the robe back on.

“Please, don’t get dressed on my account,” Gabriel said, raising an eyebrow. “I was enjoying the view!”

As he was tying up the robe, Sam burst into laughter. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I do have a bit of dignity left,” he chuckled, though Gabriel clearly saw that his face was going red.

Gabriel shrugged, beginning to pack away his things. “Whatever,” he said lightly. “But y’know, I think we’ve gone about this in completely the wrong order.”

“Oh?” Sam asked, raising his eyebrows. “How so?”

“Don’t you normally buy someone dinner and a drink before you see them naked?” Gabriel said, like he was wondering aloud as he finished packing up.

Sam gave a short laugh. “In that case, why don’t I buy you dinner and a drink?”

Gabriel grinned at him. “Gabriel Novak, by the way,” he introduced himself.

“Sam Winchester,” Sam responded with an easy grin. “Entwined at, say, seven?”

Gabriel took the opportunity to walk up closer to him and examine his face, and his eyes. His eyes were swirling with blues, greens, yellows, and even some brown, like they couldn’t quite decide what colour they wanted to be.

“I think you’ve got yourself a date, Sam Winchester,” Gabriel said.

“Sounds like a plan, Gabriel Novak,” Sam returned, and Gabriel was thoroughly enjoying the intense look in the boy’s eyes and the way that his name rolled off Sam’s tongue.

Gabriel smirked and moved towards the door. “And y’know, now I’m glad you put some clothes back on,” he said casually.

“And why is that?” Sam inquired. “I thought you were ‘enjoying the view’.”

“Oh I was.” Gabriel paused, halfway out the door. “But now I get the honour to take your clothes off, myself.”

And before he left, he heard Sam break down into laughter. Gabriel smirked, very pleased with himself.

Gabriel met Sam at the restaurant at seven like they agreed (thank goodness), and they fell into conversation as they ate. Sam told him about himself – what he was studying and why, a bit about his family, and in return Gabriel told him about his unbelievably large family and about a few of his tricks.

Gabriel learned that Sam was, in fact, the younger brother of Dean Winchester, the guy he’d had a passive-aggressive prank war with in high school before he graduated. That was a fun time to remember – he’d kicked Dean’s ass, of course.

“So why’d you volunteer to be our model, Samsquatch?” Gabriel asked in between mouthfuls of food. “I mean, I’m not complaining, you’re certainly model material, I’m just curious.”

Sam grinned, and looked down for a few seconds. “It was a bet,” he admitted, looking back up.

Gabriel raised his eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Yeah, my brother saw the advertisement in the paper,” Sam explained. “Then my adoptive mother, Ellen, butted in and said that me or Dean should do it. Dean probably would’ve, knowing the self-indulged jerk, but he was too busy bragging that I wouldn’t do it. So I told him that if he paid me fifty bucks I’d do it. And that,” he finished grandly, “is what is paying for dinner.”

“Well, you weren’t the only one to get something out of that bet.” Gabriel grinned cheekily. “Best bet you’ve ever made, in my opinion.”

“Hopefully it’ll be the best one I’ll ever make.” There was a touch of shyness in Sam’s tone now, and Gabriel’s grin faded to a small smile – small, but genuine, and he knew that Sam knew that.

“Yeah, well,” Gabriel started, “I know that it would be the best one I’d ever make if it meant I got to spend the night with you.”

Adorably, Sam’s cheeks began to redden and he looked down, smiling.

And later, when they were kissing and touching and pulling the clothes off of each other in Gabriel’s apartment, Sam would tend to agree.

Gabriel work up the next morning with one arm draped across Sam’s bare chest, and one of Sam’s arms holding him securely against his side. Gabriel blinked a few times and, remembering the previous day, sighed contentedly and moved into a more comfortable position. That’s when he noticed that Sam was running his fingers gently through Gabriel’s hair.

Gabriel smiled. “Morning, moose,” he murmured.

Sam chuckled, and Gabriel felt the vibrations through Sam’s chest. “Good morning to you, too, Gabriel,” he replied. “Sleep well?”

Gabriel brought his head up and looked sleepily up at Sam. “Best sleep ever after the best night of my life, yeah,” he said, running his hand up and down the beautiful man’s chest. Yep, Sam Winchester was certainly on the top of his ‘10/10 Would Definitely Bang Again’ list. “How ‘bout you?”

“Exactly the same,” was the reply, and Gabriel grinned.

“Good,” he said, and couldn’t resist placing a kiss on the top of Sam’s chest.

They were interrupted by Sam’s phone ringing on the bedside table, and Sam reached over to pick it up.

“Oh god, it’s my brother,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

“Any chance you can ignore it?” Gabriel mumbled, kissing the spot next to the last one.

“Probably not, he’ll just keep ringing until I answer,” Sam said, bringing the phone up to his ear. “Hello?”

“Mornin’ sleeping beauty,” said the voice on the other end of the phone. “Where you at?”

Gabriel grinned, and kept trailing kisses across Sam’s chest as Sam replied weakly, “A friend’s house.”

There was laughter for a few seconds. “Sure,” he said. “Need me to swing by and pick you up?”

“Nah, I’m good,” Sam replied.

“Yeah, don’t worry about him, Dean-o,” Gabriel said, moving so that he was lying on top of Sam. “I’ll take good care of him.”

There was silence. Then-

“Is that- is that Gabriel Novak?”

Sam groaned as Gabriel responded, “The one and only!”

Dean burst into laughter. “Sammy, you have no idea what you’ve just gotten yourself into,” he said, still laughing.

Sam just groaned again, electing not to respond.

So Gabriel responded for him. “Maybe you should’a thought of that one before you started crushing on my baby brother,” he said, and Sam had to turn his head away from the phone to muffle his laughter.

“Wha- I- what are you talking about?” Dean spluttered, and Gabriel laughed, snatching the phone from Sam’s hand.

“So you go and stop having eye-sex with Cassie and start having actual sex with him and stop complaining, ‘kay? Buh-bye, now!” And with that, he hung up and chucked the phone back on the table.

Sam’s shoulders shook with silent laughter. “That was amazing,” he said.

“Amazing and true,” Gabriel replied. “I couldn’t resist.”

Sam kissed the top of Gabriel’s head. “You are amazing.”

“In more ways than one, I hope.” Gabriel waggled his eyebrows, and Sam snorted. “Don’t deny it, Sammy!”

“I’m not denying anything.”

Gabriel hummed happily, drawing shapes on Sam’s chest. “Ever heard of a one-night stand, Sammy?” he asked, and smirked when he felt Sam freeze for a second.

“Yeah?”

“Do us a favour, moose? Don’t make it one of those, ‘kay?”

Sam laughed. “Sounds good to me.”

“Good! Now, are you going to kiss me again or am I going to have to pull you down by your antlers?”

Sam pulled Gabriel up instead, and kissed him again.

And while there were a fair few people still on the ‘Would Bang’ list (“Gabriel!” “What? I’m allowed to look!”), Sam was now the only one he would ever consider going back to.

And Sam would tend to agree.

---

A/N: First Sabriel I ever wrote! :D Please send me a prompt if you have one :3

ihavetoomanygayshipsandineedhelp

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