Jul 31, 2020
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Mick > Bryan - "Ay, Cuddlemonster. Er... where do you think your violence comes from? Aside from me calling you 'Cuddlemonster'."
Bryan > Mick - Bryan growls deep in his chest and clenches his fists.
“What the fuck man, fuck off. I grew up with a drug dealer for a dad, what the fuck do you think!?”
Yeah, I just went and did it.
Barista Mick: Good morning, Irene. Can I get you the usual? How are the grand-kids? Still being little shits? Tsk tsk.
Snippet
(Because it was mentioned in a thing I was just working on-- I want to share a slightly older thing but a thing that still makes me laugh.)
Kyle dropped down in the seat beside Mick-- and the group collectively groaned at his tray. "Oh, grow up. Not this again," he said, sliding his cane in the space between the metal chairs. "Not this again," Crystal said, pointing her plastic fork at him. "Ice cream and french-fries is not a meal." "If I'm not mistaken the definition of the word 'meal' is set time of day when someone eats something. It's dinner time-- I'm eating." "Whatever, man. You're killing yourself slowly." Crystal shrugged, slipping a slice of cucumber between her teeth. "Yeah. Hurry up, would you?" Mick butted in. "Crystal--" Kyle sighed. "--I have put my body through so much shit. If I can be taken down by too many empty calories, I think I deserve it." Kyle rolled his shirt-sleeve up and picked up a fry. "Kyle, I swear to god," Zac interjected, putting out his hands. "If you put that fucking fry in the--" Kyle quirked a brow at, then swiped the french-fry into the ice cream and gave Zac a challenging stare. "I will end you..." Zac whispered harshly. "Lots of people do that with their fries, Zac," said Zoey. "It's not actually that bad," Farah agreed, not looking up from her phone. Zac gave an exaggerated sigh, sinking down into his chair in defeat with a pout on his face, but Kyle wasn't satisfied. He clicked his tongue and paused, still holding the ice-cream-dipped fry between his fingers. Mick caught on quickly. "What are you--? No. No!" Kyle picked up the tiny paper cup of ketchup with his other hand, tongue pinched between his teeth. As he slowly lifted it up off the tray-- the others looked up and one-by-one gained their own horrified expressions. "Kyle, no!" Zoey yelped. "Kyle, don't do this to yourself, buddy," Mick pleaded. "It's not worth it!" Zac's eyes went huge-- and they bore into Kyle with urgency. "I swear to god, Kyle. I swear to god... if you--" Kyle turned the fry in his hand and stuck the bare end in the ketchup, making sure to thickly coat it so that it globbed down the side of his hand and made the others visibly squirm. Farah watched with her lip curled in disgust, but her eyes wide with intrigue. "You're not actually gonna--" she started, but trailed off. "Kyle, you're going to be okay," Mick panted. "You don't have to do this. I am here for you." He gave Mick a side-glance, then the others one last look over-- and he popped the fry in his mouth. The rest of the table roared in awe and disgust, especially Zac, who roared in frustration. "I hate you!" he shouted, shaking his fists in the air and sliding down his chair. "I hate you so much!" Kyle chuckled silently as he chewed. The flavor in his mouth wasn't exactly the most pleasant, but it wasn't all that bad-- and it was way worth it for the reaction from Zachariah. "What the fuck?!" Mick leaped up from his chair. All the faces at the surrounding tables that had not yet looked over in shock and confusion-- now were. "Dude, shh!" Crystal laughed up at him. "Food court!" "What kind of world do we live in if a man can't say fuck in his own public shopping mall?" Mick asked, not taking his horrified eyes off of his friend. "Do you not have taste buds?!" Zoey gasped, putting her hands into her hair. Kyle swallowed, then shrugged. "It's not bad." "I want you to die--" Zac croaked, now having slipped a good half-way down his chair with most of his body underneath the metal table, Kyle caught his eye and stared him down as he licked the ketchup and chocolate combination off of his thumb. "I want you to die!" Zac repeated in a shriller tone. "He will-- just wait," Crystal answered. "I don't wanna wait." Kyle lifted his cup of ice-cream in one hand and a second fry in the other. "So then leave me alone about my dietary choices-- and let me poison myself in peace? Hm?" Zac crunched his brow into a cartoonish frown, sinking down until his head disappeared under the table.
@dramionefan66 said she wanted to read the rest of the snippet I shared-- so naturally I spent a day and a half finishing up and editing the rest of the chapter. I put it in a link because of the length.)
Characters: Zac Salgado (POV), Zoey Huber (POV), Spencer Green, Nathan Blanchard, Courtney Wallace, Lawrence O'Sullivan, Marie O'Sullivan, Mick Salgado, Kevin Carnell, Marilyn Blanchette, Kyle Hausman (Briefly) Words: 6,915
Warning: Violence, gore, swearing, death.
(P.S-- about Marilyn... it felt right.)
Mick: “Emma, what’s your middle name?”
Emma: “Cécile”
Mick: :O
Emma: “What?
Mick: "Em C. O'Sullivan.”
Emma: …*quiet beatboxing*
2 Mick and Zoey
Prompt: Things you said through your teeth
Characters: Zoey Huber (POV), Mick SalgadoWords: 627 (More of a snippet)
——
Zoey laid her head on Mick’s shoulder, not sure what to do about his clenching jaw and distant eyes, so she just laid there, a hand on his chest, wondering how long it’d take for him to calm down this time.
At one point, he cleared his throat, and she thought he’d speak, but he kept on staring up at the ceiling.
It was another several minutes of silence, save for the sound of his heartbeat on her ear, before he finally said anything.
“Zoey?” he asked in a hushed tone.
“Yes?”
He silenced, but she heard him swallow.
“Zoey, what would you do–”
He trailed off.
“What?” She propped herself up on her arms, so she could look down at his face, although he kept his eyes glued to the ceiling.
“What would you do if… I hurt you?”
Zoey dropped her shoulders. “What do you mean?”
“I mean– bad.” He still spoke softly, as if they were whispering secrets, rather than something so dark. “I mean if I snapped and I put my hands on you or– anything like that.”
As he spoke, he opened his fists and spread out his fingers, as if he could prevent his hands from doing just that in the future by relaxing them now.
“You wouldn’t,” Zoey answered.
“If I did,” he said back, much too roughly.
Zoey shrunk down a bit, then she reached a hand out and brushed the side of his face.
“Mickey, I’ll love you no matter what. You know that.”
His jaw hardened, and for once, his eyes turned on her.
“You’d let me,” he said through his teeth, as if he were pinning an accusation on her. As if she was the one at fault. Zoey pulled her hand away, blinking back at him.
“Why would you–?” Mick started, then his voice cracked and he shook his head. He shifted on the bed and turned himself away. Zoey sat up in the bed and stared, confused and uncertain what to say.
“Wh–” she stammered. “You’re mad at me?”
Mick sighed out loud, and shook his head, pulling his arms around himself.
She raised her voice a bit. "I never know what you want, Mick! You want love, you want security, I offer you both and you’re mad at me!“
Mick sat up, and turned to her.
“I don’t want to hurt you, Zoey!” he shouted. “You’re telling me–” He cut off and sucked in a sharp breath.
“Well you are!” She hollered back, her face growing hot. “What is wrong with you?!”
“A whole fuck of a lot!” Mick jumped up off the bed, and grabbed his sweater off of the floor and breathing heavily as he pulled it over his head.
Zoey froze, opening and closing her mouth in silence, then, she leapt off the bed, and grabbed hold of his arm.
“Mickey, don’t go,” she begged, pulling him closer as he indolently leaned away “Mick, please, baby, don’t go…”
He turned back to her, his eyes red and watering, his chin stiffened as he tried to hide it.
“Please,” she repeated– and he caved, slowly sinking back down onto the corner of the bed and pressing a hand over his face to hide his strained, muffled sobbing. She sat down along with him, running a hand up and down his shaking back.
“Don’t let me.” His voice came out pained, forced past his clenched jaw. “For fuck’s sake…”
“You won’t,” she said softly. “Be easy on yourself. You won’t.”
He closed his eyes, sending tears rushing down his face, that he quickly swiped away, sniffling and shaking his head, but saying nothing.
“You won’t,” she repeated, giving his shoulder a squeeze and then resting her head back upon it.
“You won’t.”