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teaspoonofdragons · 1 year

Text

Just as Bad (Probably Worse)

Summary: "Well," Amitie struggles for a moment. "Maybe, uh, you could..."

Schezo, to his merit, waits patiently for her to finish before continuing to berate her.

"... Talk about it... To someone who... Won't listen?" She tries, shrinking a little under his gaze.

A late night attempt at kindness from Amitie leads to Schezo trying to get therapy without actually getting therapy. Unfortunately, Sig is not a very good therapist.

Characters: Schezo Wegey, Sig, Amitie, Klug, Raffina, Lidelle, Lemres, Feli (very briefly)

Warnings: Past kidnapping and murder, discussions of trauma, panic attacks, crying, swearing, and Schezo

Word count: 9117

"Have you ever tried being nice before?" Amitie scolds. She's not usually so snappy but this Schezo guy really gets on her nerves. He's gone after her hat, he's tried to take Sig's arm- his whole arm!! And now she's just trying to make small talk with one of Arle's friends because she likes Arle and Arle likes Schezo, for some reason, so maybe he's not all bad, but he's completely blowing her off! What a d-

"Yes, I have, thank you," Schezo sneers, pointedly not looking at her. He was doing just fine walking through the streets, alone, with nobody bothering him. That's why he went out at night, for Christ's sake! Because then no one would be around him! But apparently this girl decided it would be smart to approach a strange guy she only knows from the times he's wronged her and her friends by herself and start blabbering. And she has the audacity to be mad at him for not reciprocating? This is why he hates people.

Okay, well, it's one of hundreds of reasons why he hates people. But it's the one that's grating on his nerves right now, which makes it the sole reason at the moment.

Amitie crosses her arms with a huff. "Yeah, well, I'll see it when I believe it!" She pauses, noticing the look Schezo's giving her. "That's not the saying. But whatever! You get my point! I've never witnessed you do anything nice before, I don't think."

Schezo snorts. "That's because I have been taking great care to be as very un-nice as possible, thank you very much."

"Why?" Amitie asks, either ignorant or uncaring of the fact that her continuation of this conversation is annoying her impromptu walking partner further by the second. "It's not like it hurts to be nice, you know!" She hesitates, recalling Arle describing Schezo as a generally selfish person, and tacks on, "in fact, it usually pays off!" as an afterthought.

Schezo stops walking and Amitie gets the sudden, foreboding feeling that she's said something wrong.

He turns to look at her and raises an eyebrow. "Your name is Amitie, correct?"

"Uh, yeah! That's me!"

"Right. Tell me, Amitie, how many friends do you have?"

"Oh gosh," she starts, and she begins counting off, "well there's Lidelle, and Klug, and Raffina, and TaruTaru, and Sig, and Arle, and Ringo, and-"

"That's enough," he rolls his eyes, "I think the point's been made."

Amitie frowns. "What point?"

"Your name is very befitting of you," he responds. "You have... Quite the considerable collection of friends."

"Oh," she blinks. Maybe she didn't say anything wrong. He seems a lot more amicable towards small talk now. "Thank you!"

"I assume you probably got most of these friends- if not all of them- through this mantra of kindness you seem to so adore."

"I don't have any manta rays, and certainly not any named Kindness!" That sounds kind of cute though.

"Mantra," Schezo corrects, irritation seeping through his voice. "It's a phrase you repeat."

Amitie whispers an "ooooohhh."

"Well, yeah," she confirms. "How else do you get friends? I'm nice to them and they're nice to me back!"

A beat passes and she adds, "Well, most of them are nice to me back. But all of them mean well regardless!"

Schezo nods in a manner that one might consider thoughtful. "So you can claim with certainty that your kindness has, in turn, been returned with further kindness." He pauses. "... In most cases."

"Right!" Amitie nods, "you get it!"

"So, if say you were somewhere outside of school with the rest of your class, and you heard a voice you didn't recognize yelling your name, and nobody else seemed to hear it, would you try to find the source?"

"Obviously!" She huffs, not stopping to think about the specificity of the question. "What kind of person would I be to just ignore it? What if they need help? What if they're hurt!"

Schezo nods again. "Right. Of course."

Amitie, for a moment, thinks that maybe some progress has been made. An understanding! But Schezo steps closer to her, close enough that she has to crane her neck up uncomfortably in order to look him in the eye.

"You would make the same mistake now as I did back then."

"Eh??"

"I ask this question because I've experienced it. My line of thinking wasn't quite the same, but it was similar. What kind of person would I be, indeed," he scoffs. "And do you know where that got me?"

Amitie shakes her head, her eyes wide. This was not going where she thought it would when she started talking to him.

He leans over her, close enough that she feels the need to lean back in response. Once he feels she's appropriately discomforted by his blatant disregard for personal space, he hisses, "Kidnapped."

Amitie stops breathing. That was not something she was expecting to hear today, or any day. Schezo straightens himself up again, but Amitie remains rooted to the spot.

"And then," he continues, his voice a little too level and calm for anyone who'd known him to find it comforting, "when I got out, I was treated unkindly, because people could tell something was wrong with me. It didn't matter if I tried to be nice, I was broken. That doesn't seem fair, does it?"

Hesitantly, she shakes her head.

"So forgive me if I've decided that being kind is a mistake," he seethes, turning around to walk away, "but I refuse to make it again, so long as I can help it."

Amitie watches him storm off, his boots clanging loudly against the road, and then realizes that maaayyybe she shouldn't just leave it at that downer of a statement. She jogs to catch up with him, matching his pace as she does, and then realizes she has no idea what to say to a near stranger that just told her that at least part of the reason why he's such a jackass is because he was kidnapped.

"So, uhm,"

She wishes she could abort her sentence to start over with something a little more confident, but Schezo's already fixed her with a glare that makes it clear that's not an option.

"Do you... Have you... Ever talked? About that?" She inquires, but quickly corrects herself when he raises an eyebrow. "In detail, I mean! Like, like actually talked about it!"

Schezo laughs, but it sounds a lot like that kind of laugh Klug does sometimes when she's said something he plans on demeaning her for. "No! God, no, who would I even talk to?"

"Arle?" She suggests, but she's immediately shot down.

"No. Under no circumstances."

She opens her mouth to continue, but he cuts her off before she can. "Don't start suggesting people, I was being rhetorical. The point is that I don't want anyone to know what occurred there. Not now, not ever."

"But, but!" She stutters, "it might make you feel better!"

"Not if it involves burdening someone with what I've been through. They'll either pity me or judge me further. I would rather be judged on the actions I can control."

"Well," Amitie struggles for a moment. "Maybe, uh, you could..."

Schezo, to his merit, waits patiently for her to finish before continuing to berate her.

"... Talk about it... To someone who... Won't listen?" She tries, shrinking a little under his gaze.

He stares at her. She stares back him. Amitie comes to the realization that maybe the reason why Arle is friends with Schezo is because every conversation with him is this nerve-wracking and she's an adrenaline junkie.

"Talk about it to someone who won't listen," he repeats, slowly. Amitie swallows, then nods enthusiastically.

"Uh-huh! 'Cause then, then you could talk about something that's clearly a problem," he scowls at her but she remains undaunted, "but they still wouldn't know what happened to you because they weren't listening!"

There's a very awkward, prolonged silence in which he continues to stare at her for much longer than she'd like. She breaks eye contact first, directing her eyes literally anywhere else.

"No, yeah," he finally says, raising his voice to what's generally considered "normal Schezo volume.""Allow me to simply find someone who will not only let me talk to them, but will let me talk at them without getting nosey and listening to me anyways, whether purposefully or because that's simply the nature of humanity!" He scoffs and finally takes his eyes off of her and back to the road. "What am I meant to say? 'Hi, can I talk to you about something that's important to me, but also ask you not to listen to me while I do it?' I suppose I should find someone particularly spectacular at spacing out and.... And..."

He trails off, frowning at the road ahead of him. Amitie pipes up, "You know, frowning takes more muscles than smiling does!" She chuckles nervously, regretting her speaking up when he starts frowning harder and redirecting it at her.

"Why does smiling hurt more then?" He asks, and she furrows her brows at him.

"I! Don't know! I think that's a question for someone who, ah, actually knows things. Like Klug."

Ignoring the almost self deprecating statement that seems a little out of place for someone so cheery, Schezo compulsively grabs the hilt of his sword and taps his fingers along it with a contemplative "hm." Amitie eyes it warily, knowing well enough that that's rarely a good thing. A few seconds of tense (well, for one of them, anyhow) silence later and Schezo lets his hand drop to his side again.

"I've changed my mind. I've decided your idea is good."

"Eh??"

Amitie... Was not expecting that. Not just that she of all people had a good idea, but that Schezo of all people is the one who thinks so!

Though she's not quite sure what exactly her idea was.

"What, uh, smiling more?"

Aaaaand he's glaring at her again. So, not that, then.

"I'm going to find someone who won't listen to me," he clarifies.

"Oh!" Oh, that makes more sense. "That's great! Did you have someone in mind?"

"Yes."

He then fails to elaborate.

"... Do you want to tell me who it is?"

"No."

"Oh."

That was about the end of that conversation. Amitie leaves pretty soon after that, seeing as she's probably used up all of Schezo's conversational energy for the next 5 hours minimum. The man in question, meanwhile, continues his nighttime stroll, deep in thought. It certainly wasn't a foolproof plan he had, but then again most plans of his weren't.

It's hard to foolproof something when you yourself are a fool, apparently.

Still, it was his best shot at what Amitie had suggested. He and the girl are far from on good terms, but he'd be a liar if he said his memories didn't eat away at him constantly. They didn't used to, but lately he's been finding it harder and harder to get them out of his head.

He wishes Arle hadn't asked him why he learned Dark Magic.

Irrelevant. There's other things to be thinking about right now. Like how he's going to find the person he's going to corner, let alone find them alone, and secluded.

They've wandered into his home before, he recalls. Not purposefully, either. They just happened to be in the area. So, maybe they're around often?

Nodding to himself, Schezo decides that that's enough meandering and that it's about time he went back to his overglorified rock. He'd go looking for them come daylight. It should just be a matter of patrolling the perimeter of his own living space. Hopefully they're around tomorrow. Today? He squints at the moon.

Today.

Sig watches an arachnid climb over his fingers to reach his arm. It's a common banana spider, but it's pretty regardless, and they're friendly to boot. People tend to be startled of them because they're big, and also, spiders, but they're really nice, experience speaking for itself.

It stops to rest upon the crook of his elbow, then seems not to recall what it's destination was. Gently, he convinces it to get on his other hand so he can put it back down on the forest floor. He's so busy watching it leave that he doesn't hear anybody approaching him (rather intently, too) until they'd already taken a seat next to him and started talking.

"You know I've never tried dark chocolate until maybe four days ago."

Sig looks over beside him and if he weren't so lethargic he probably would've jumped at the sight.

"You'd think someone who bakes in their unlimited free time would have found some sooner, but it's simply eluded me," Schezo continues, as if it's the most natural thing in the world for him to be interacting so freely with Sig. "But it took Lemres offering me some for me to finally taste it. I'm a little disappointed that it's not chocolate made from dark magic, but it tastes fine."

"Why are you talking to me," Sig interrupts.

"At you," Schezo corrects. "I'm not requiring you to to listen. In fact you can tune me out if you'd like, but I'm going to be continuing talking in your general area."

"Why," Sig repeats.

"Because! If I engage with myself in an empty forest people tend to think I'm mad, and then they want to Puyo battle me because I'm mildly unnerving or whatever. I don't want a Puyo battle, I want to talk."

This gives the other boy pause. "About what?"

"Just to talk. Like I said, you can keep doing your little objects of admiration," Sig's eye twitches but he doesn't care enough to correct him, "I don't care and frankly you shouldn't either."

Anyone who knew anything about Schezo would know that he doesn't talk "just to talk." While he might seem like the kind of guy who likes the sound of his own voice on a surface level, he despises conversation and values silence. Sig, however, indeed has only a surface level of observation on Schezo and therefore sees nothing particularly suspicious about this statement.

All that said, Sig shrugs and continues staring at the ground wordlessly. Schezo takes this as permission to continue.

"Anyhow, so I've been thinking of ways to integrate the more bitter of chocolates into my baking in a way that isn't simply 'throw some chips in there' because that's dull and I'd prefer to find a more engaging way to-"

Sig's already tuned him out, his voice no more than a radio in the background to him. He squints at something under a small leaf pile and shifts them around as carefully as possible, as to not disturb it.

Bark beetle. Maybe the log Sig's sitting on is it's home.

"- but would dousing it in the stuff be too much? I've never baked with dark chocolate before, I wouldn't know-"

He picks the bark beetle up and watches it scuttle over his hands. He tries looking beside him to see if there's others he's somehow missed, but that doesn't seem to be the case. There are, however, a few holes. Hm.

"-14 I was on a field trip. I can't remember what for, I wasn't paying much attention and frankly it was probably only something to look forward to insofar as it meant we weren't in class-"

Sig leans a little closer to see if he can find anything in the holes. It's not quite the right season for larvae to be squirming about just yet, but there might be more bark beetles burrowing in them. It's a bit hard to see, though.

"-So now I'm wandering through a dungeon trying to memorize the spells I've been forced to figure out just to survive the damned thing so they won't slip my mind while I'm, I don't know, trying not to die-"

If he squints, maybe there's something wiggling? Doesn't seem to want to come out though. He leans back again to watch the one on his arm, which is making a slow trek to his shoulder. That's fine. That's a good spot for it.

"-And I had to fight a sword, not someone wielding a sword, no, that would simply make too much sense wouldn't it, I had to fight the sword itself and then when I won it was like-"

Schezo's sentence pauses and after a second Sig looks up. Schezo's rolled his sleeve up and seems to be staring rather intently at- oh. That would be a few of the aforementioned beetles Sig was trying to find. He gnaws at his lip, trying to decipher the expression on Schezo's face. Didn't he say he doesn't like bugs?

But Schezo maybe seems to not care so much for unnecessary violence against these ones because when he's done watching them he faces forward once more and continues.

"Anyways, right, sword, fought it, won,"

Sig meanwhile continues to watch the beetles on the other man's arm. They seem fine, and despite Schezo's claim he doesn't look like he intends to change that anytime soon. The thought crosses his mind that the mage may have been lying, but that seems like a silly thing to lie about. Maybe he just knows that they're beetles. People tend to be more okay with beetles.

"-alcohol is disgusting by the way, I want you to know that, I hated every second that I was forced to chug it down-"

Hm. Unintended side effect of watching the beetles on Schezo's arm- noticing things about Schezo's arm. Primarily the paled scars the bugs crawl over on their journey to, apparently, his elbow. He's littered with them. Jagged and clean, a few stopping abruptly, a largish one that looks like a burn that was healed through magic to the best of one's ability. The skin didn't follow conventional burn scarring, but the area of effect seemed too wide to be much else to Sig's knowledge.

"-I don't know if that's normal, actually. Maybe it's because none of the magic was really mine, or maybe I'm just really good at-"

Arle has scars too, but not quite to this degree. Is that why Schezo seems to cover every inch of his skin? Sig disregards this thought. He doesn't know the guy well enough to make assumptions like that. He focuses back on the beetles, which have begun towards Schezo's cape, with the exception of one trying to get into his hair.

"-And he was there, and he was all evil villainy, you know how that goes you've seen evil villains before, and-"

Sig looks down at his own beetle, making it's way down his shirt. It slips a little and he places his hand under it to ensure it doesn't fall. Bugs are sturdy when it comes to being dropped but he's sure they still don't like it. It takes this as a sign to crawl unto his palm once more, which just brings it back to the beginning. The circle of irony.

It takes 30 seconds for Sig to realize that Schezo has gone quiet again. He glances upward at him and sees that he's apparently forgone talking in favor of staring slightly slack jawed into space, expression unreadable. Though, the look in his eyes seems a bit vacant. Sig would know, he's seen himself in the mirror.

He opens his mouth to say Schezo's name, but the swordsman beats him to it.

"I don't remember killing him."

Sig's mouth clicks shut immediately.

"I mean, I remember I must have killed him, but I don't remember doing it."

His voice sounds as empty as his gaze is and Sig has to wonder for a moment if he got possessed mid-story.

"I know we fought. I don't remember much of that either, though. I just remember being, being scared, and angry, and-" he stutters for a moment, stuck on the word "and." His voice shakes and he gets louder, his teeth grinding in a way that's probably incredibly unhealthy. He stops himself in order to hit a hard reset on his sentence.

"And I remember standing over the body. The sword in it was mine. My hands were on the hilt." He swallows loud enough for Sig to hear. "And I remember the taste of bile, and, I think, I must've begun screaming because my throat was raw, and, and I was crying," like he was threatening to do now, the tears gathering at the corners of his eyes while his hands tremble.

He goes quiet again, and after a moment in which the only thing Sig could hear from him was his breathing rapidly picking up speed, he stands abruptly.

"I can't do this."

Sig blinks up at him. Schezo's not looking, though.

"I can't do this, this was a stupid idea, I shouldn't have- why would it-" he interrupts his own sentence with a snarl, and then he just leaves, walking away with several beetles still in his cape. Sig considers asking him to at least put them down, but given the speed he's walked off he opts instead for hoping he doesn't forget about them.

That was. Weird.

Schezo was clearly just recounting something he didn't want to, but how did he get there? Wasn't he talking about chocolate? Does Schezo have chocolate trauma?

That's dumb. There was probably something in between there. It's not like Sig was paying attention, after all, Schezo told him he didn't have to and even encouraged it. It leaves him with an uneasy feeling, but that's probably just because someone just started having an emotional breakdown next to him, so he can ignore it. Right. Yeah.

He should also probably ignore the question of "should I go after him?" Schezo's not his friend, it's none of his business and it certainly isn't his problem. What is his problem is the recently kidnapped beetles.

Ugh. At this rate, he might end up going after him anyways just to ensure the safety of the bugs.

Sig puts the bark beetle in his hand down on the log, then stands and brushes himself off. If he ever wants to catch up with Schezo he should probably start... Approximately now. He walks pretty fast, and if Sig so much as lightly jogs for longer than five seconds he feels like he'll have a heart attack.

So he follows at his more usual meandering sort of speed. Sig doesn't quite remember where Schezo's home is, it's not like he was paying attention, but it's probably somewhere around here. He can't imagine the guy'd travel all too far just to ramble to someone.

He gets lost a total of 4 different times before stopping under a beehive. One of the inhabitants lands upon his nose.

"Hey," he greets, crossing his eyes to look at the bee. "Have you seen any weirdos with like," shoot, what color is that guy's hair? White? Gray? Slightly-blue? "... Really pale hair?" Oh, that could also be Lemres. "... And a sword? And cape?" That should be enough.

The bee's wings twitch a moment and then it takes off, and Sig trusts it's judgement and goes after it. Unfortunately the recently burdened beast (not to be confused with a beast of burden) does need frequent breaks but Sig makes do and lets it land where it needs. He just needs to catch up eventually, it doesn't particularly matter when.

Unless Schezo decides to take his anger out on the unsuspecting beetles. That would be bad.

Eventually however, the bee stops and seems relatively pleased with itself, and when Sig looks up he sees why.

He's back at the log, except evidently he's not alone. Schezo appears to have made his return sometime while Sig was getting himself lost. On the bright side, judging by the way Schezo's held his hand out to the decaying wood and is muttering barely audible apologies, it looks like he did not, in fact, decide to kill the beetles out of malice. He runs a hand through his hair, pauses, and pulls another beetle out, gently dropping it with the rest of it's friends.

Okay. Well. Looks like that's over with. Sig can just turn around and forget about it. For real now. Alright. Cool.

... Or he could if the man weren't still actively crying. He's relatively quiet about it all things considered, but even from where Sig's standing out of sight he can hear his breath hitching. He watches him lean back and bury his face in his hands with a frustrated groan. Ah, there's the disturbance in quiet.

Sig is very, very good at ignoring things he perceives as not his problem, but even someone as emotionally dense as him can tell there's something wrong and now he feels like he'll probably be guilty about leaving if he doesn't make sure. Dismissing the bee that had kindly brought him back here, Sig takes his seat next to the curled up pile of clothing and armor in a reversal of roles.

"Are you okay."

The response is muffled by gloved hands, but it sounds close enough to "no," that Sig figures that's probably the answer.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Schezo's eyes peer through his fingers, and Sig can't tell if the man is scowling or if his face is all screwed up because he's crying. Schezo shifts to hide his face in his knees instead.

"No."

It comes out a lot clearer, this time.

"No, I just tried to talk about it and it didn't work. And that was without you listening."

Sig hums but says nothing further, instead opting for sitting next to the wizard in silence. He hasn't told him to leave, yet, and bluntness seems to be a shared trait of theirs so he probably would've said something if he wanted it. Maybe.

The silence stretches for a while and this is ironically perhaps the most comfortable Sig's ever felt around Schezo. Thinking about that it seems kind of cruel but the barbarian did try to cut off his arm once, even if he did go back on it in the end. That was still kind of a mortifying experience.

He hears him take a few breaths like he's changed his mind and is trying to say something and waits patiently for him.

"I just wish he was wrong."

Sig doesn't know who "he," is, but he gets the feeling he doesn't have to right now.

"But he wasn't. He said I was going to be just like him and look at me now."

He rubs the tears off of his face with the sleeve of his shirt. "Maybe I'm even worse. I've already done so much harm to so many people and yet there's some people who I can't... I just..."

He throws his arms upwards with a huff. "And who am I to make that call? What makes them worthy to live but all the others I've slain lambs to the slaughter? I've already committed atrocities, I'm already unforgivable, but I can't even be cruel right! I'm no good as a person, I'm no good as an avatar for darkness, what am I good for?"

He glances at Sig and winces at the mildly uncomfortable expression on his face. "You don't have to answer that, I don't expect you to. You don't know me."

Okay, cool. Sig relaxes considerably at that. Schezo meanwhile sighs and lets his limbs flop into an unorganized mess on the forest floor, along with the rest of him.

"I hate it here."

"Mhm."

"But I can't go home."

"Yeah."

"There's no home to come back to."

"Right," Sig nods, despite not actually knowing what that means.

"I'd probably hate it there just as much, anyways."

"Uh-huh."

"I hate everything."

"Yeah?"

"I'm so tired of it. I want to be able to enjoy things again. Sometimes I feel like I enjoy plundering magic at least but I know that's not really me. It's this stupid-" his fist hits the dirt with a solid thud, "-fucking," thud "-curse!" Thud. "It makes me feel like I need it or I'll, I'll perish or something! I know I won't but it makes me shaky and paranoid and it gives me a headache and I'm sick of it!"

"That kind of sounds like drug withdrawal," Sig drones, and he's rewarded with getting dirt half-heartedly thrown at him. It lands in his lap and he glances at it then back to Schezo, who's begun staring forlornly at the sky.

"Maybe it is," he sighs, resigned. He presses his palms into his eyes. "Great. Another thing I can thank him for. A drug addiction I didn't want."

"Most people don't want addictions, to my knowledge."

"Yes but they at least want the drug first! I didn't want dark magic, I needed it to survive!"

Sig hums. Guess there's kind of a difference there.

Schezo lets his hands drop. "I wish I were better. Morally, at magic, I dunno. I just want to be better than him."

Sig prods at him, gently, as to not startle him. "You said you bake?" He desperately hopes he heard that part of the "conversation" right because it was the only thing he thought he heard before completely zoning out.

Thankfully, Schezo nods, albeit a little confused by the topic change.

"Can I try some?"

Schezo blinks. "Now?"

Sig looks up at the sky and hums. "Yeah. It's still daylight out."

"I don't exactly have anything prepared. I'd have to make something."

"That's fine," Sig insists.

This time Schezo is most definitely scowling. "I'll make you help."

That one gives Sig pause. Is it really worth all this trouble comforting someone who he doesn't know, who tried to sever his arm once? The correct response should be "no," but lately he's found himself becoming the slightest bit more sympathetic, a change he blames Amitie for.

Well, blames isn't the right word, but he doesn't feel positively enough about it to thank her for it either. Like most things, he feels rather neutral on the fact. But it's hindering him right now.

"Okay," he ultimately concedes. "I'll help."

Schezo sighs, resigning himself to bringing the half-breed into his home. He doesn't have the energy for a Puyo battle over it, and for that point he's actually grateful he doesn't know Sig all that well. The last time he wasn't up for fighting anyone somebody threw a fit over it because that's not normal or something.

He gets up without saying anything, but he finds another thing to be grateful for in Sig; he doesn't have to. He seems to understand that Schezo's decided it's not worth arguing over and stands up as well, following suit (but not before waving goodbye to the bark beetles).

He is reminded of the fact that Schezo walks annoyingly fast when he finds his legs hurting just trying to keep up, and he seems to have no intentions of slowing down for him.

The entire trip there is completely silent. It turns out, putting two quiet people together results in them... Being quiet. Sig makes sure to keep Schezo to his right, uncomfortable with the thought of letting him anywhere near his red arm, but otherwise it's... Kind of nice not to be expected to participate in conversation. Amitie's pretty good about filling the space for both of them, but a lot of other people seem to think his input is necessary regardless of if he has any.

Schezo himself seems tense, his back straight and his eyes darting around wildly. They're still red, and they look like they're still wet too, but at the very least he's not actively crying now. Sig finds himself trying to classify the blue in his eyes habitually when he realizes after a moment that they're actually shifting shades. He thinks maybe his own eyes are playing tricks on him, but the longer he stares the more sure of it he is. Ice, cerulean, cobalt, is this a dark magic thing? Klug's eyes don't do that, Sig doesn't think, but then again Sig doesn't try to categorize greens so maybe it just slipped past him, as details tend to do. He tries to see if his pupils are doing it too, but it's difficult when they're practically pinpricks against his definitely changing irises and oh maybe the reason why he can see his eyes so well is because he's staring back at him.

Schezo raises an eyebrow. If Sig had the self-awareness to do so he'd be grateful he doesn't embarrass easy. As it stands he just averts his gaze elsewhere. He can still feel Schezo's eyes linger on him but thankfully it's around then that the cave Schezo inhabits comes into view.

The corner of Sig's mouth twitches almost imperceptibly downward. How does Schezo bake in a c-

There is a kitchen. What.

In spite of the crystals jutting every which way out of the walls, Schezo has managed to fit several kitchen appliances in the cave. Schezo himself does not acknowledge this, instead walking straight for some cabinets strewn haphazardly along the walls- did he put those there himself?- and throwing them open. He deliberates over whatever's in them for a second then nods to himself. He turns to Sig, crossing his arms very seriously.

"Cookies. Red velvet. Opinion."

Sig blinks in response. Schezo nods again.

"Fantastic."

With a dramatic twirl that flares his cape up behind him, he starts digging through the cabinet and throwing items on a table, lacking an actual countertop. He goes through a few different ones and some drawers until he has a veritable pile of ingredients and utensils strewn about.

"Now normally I'd only make one batch but I'm going to make us do two today."

"Why?"

"Because I go through these things like," he pauses, "well, like candy, frankly. I don't want to share my portion and if you don't like yours that means I actually get more."

Sig snorts. Of course, to whose benefit except for his.

"Have you ever baked cookies before?"

"No."

"Have you ever baked before?"

"No."

"Yeah," Schezo mumbles, "I figured as much." He leaves the kitchen for a moment and moves out of sight, returning with a notepad and pen, scribbling something down. Sig watches him passively until he rips the paper out and holds it up to him. Hesitantly, he accepts the paper and looks down at it.

Oh. It's like... The recipe.

"I may have guessed for some of it," Schezo admits. "I normally just eyeball the stuff but I can't trust you to do that if you've never baked before. If something looks wrong I'll catch it before it goes in the oven."

He glances to the side and mutters, "probably," as he approaches the table. He slides a couples of bowls towards Sig. "Well? Get going!"

Sig glances upwards at the pile of things and back to the list, wincing a little. He's regretting this already. He could just leave, but then he wouldn't get any cookies.

Actually, wait. If he did make the cookies with him, and ate them, he could tell Lemres that he ate confectionary offerings from Schezo the Dark Mage long before he willingly took any from the Comet Warlock. Sig smirks at the list, reaching for what he's pretty sure is a bag of flour. Yeah, that'd be funny.

Sig immediately runs into his first problem when he tilts the bag over and proceeds to pour out way too much flour, cascading into getting it flown into his face, resulting in him sneezing and getting it even more everywhere than it already was. Schezo sighs and puts the stick of butter he was warming in his hands back down, taking Sig's now slightly-sneezed-on bowl and frisbee tossing it into his sink. He procures a new one while Sig attempts to sort out his flour situation and requests he "please don't sneeze on this one, I only have so many bowls."

Sig runs into his second problem when he gets to the egg. He's not quite stupid enough to try and use his red arm to crack it open, because it always seems to manage to break something, but apparently he underestimates the strength of his right arm just as well, because he hits it against the tabletop and it practically explodes.

"Um," is the only sound Sig needs to come out of his mouth before Schezo mutters "Jesus Christ," and walks over to help him.

"Have you never cracked an egg open before?" He hisses, grabbing a new one as he does.

"I 'unno. Can't remember."

"How do you-" Schezo cuts himself off with a roll of his eyes. "Whatever. Look, hold this," he basically forces the egg into Sig's hand and then rests his own on top of the back of said hand. Once he has Sig's hand over the table, he presses down on it like he were cracking the egg open without an extra layer of flesh between them.

"Ah."

Sig's third problem happens basically immediately after. Schezo stares at his vanilla extract and asks Sig, "have you ever consumed vanilla extract before? As in, right out of the bottle?"

Sig tilts his head at him. "Uh... Don't think so."

Schezo can feel mischief spark itself up in his soul. Even someone like Sig would probably remember the taste of straight vanilla extract. He tips the bottle into a tablespoon then holds it out to his unsuspecting victim of truly abhorrent behavior. "Try it," he says, as calmly as he can manage.

Sig does not think to question this behavior. Sig, in fact, accepts the tablespoon and drinks the whole thing.

Schezo is rewarded for his evil-doing with getting to witness the most expression he'll likely ever see on Sig's face. He winces, then gags, then looks absolutely disgusted. "I feel like you just poisoned me," he sputters. Schezo promptly bursts out laughing.

"Please tell me there's something that'll wash this down," Sig begs, and the only response he gets is uncontrollable cackling. "I'll take soap at this point, anything."

Schezo, struggling to breathe through his laughter, reaches into his fridge and offers Sig some kind of sports drink. Sig grabs it out of his hands and chugs it. This is awful. It's horrible.

The taste and feeling haven't left him when he finishes, and for that he continues to be disgruntled, but at least it's not horrifically atrocious anymore. The absolute rapscallion who did this to him is now sitting on the floor in an attempt to help quell his laughter.

"Why would you do this to me," Sig asks, almost pitifully.

Schezo tries to catch his breath for a moment before answering, "My middle name isn't 'Devious,' for no reason."

Sig allows the faux-pas to slip his mind a moment. "Your middle name is... Devious?"

"Yes," Schezo confirms, finally calming down. "That's what my parents would yell at me whenever I was in trouble. Schezo Devious Wegey."

"You have parents?"

"Had," he corrects, and Sig drops the conversation there. Schezo seems to actually be in a relatively good mood now; it's not worth sacrificing in order to satiate a curiosity he'll probably forget about in thirty seconds.

And forget he does, because pretty soon they're able to toss the cookies into the oven, which Schezo lights with some fire magic. The two stand in front of the appliance in silence. Schezo shifts on his feet uncomfortably.

"I'm going to be honest. There's not really a whole lot to do here. I don't exactly get visitors who plan on staying for any longer than it takes to Puyo battle."

"That's fine," Sig says. "Can I look around?"

Schezo looks a little conflicted with allowing someone to root around his home, but it's not like people don't already do that without his permission anyways. He sighs and walks out of the room, gesturing for Sig to follow. He points to an alcove somewhere in the wall and bluntly states, "Bathroom."

"Does it function?"

"It does now," Schezo hisses. "Its very difficult to put one of these in cave, but if I didn't I'd either have to go into town any time I wanted to do anything normally relegated to such a room, or do it in the woods. Neither is very appealing to me."

Sig hums and follows Schezo a little further down. They come into the end of the tunnel, which contains a closed chest and some miscellaneous knick knacks.

"That is my bed," Schezo states. Sig's eyebrow twitches just the slightest bit downwards.

"Your bed is a treasure chest?"

"Yes," he responds, "it's dark and enclosed and filled with blankets. Why would I bother buying a very expensive real bed when a chest is more comfortable?"

"You sleep in a dark, cramped box," Sig smiles, "like a cat."

This earns him a subsequent glare. Sig tilts his head up at Schezo and hums. "Or maybe... More like a cat-like dog?"

"Excuse me?"

"Yeah," Sig nods, "cat-like dog."

"What- what does that even mean?"

"You're like..." Sig pauses for a very, very long time, and Schezo's patience wears thin very quickly, evidenced by his expression. "You're quiet. A lot quieter than I thought you would be. And you're snarky. But you're also loud. Really loud. And you're big. And mean. Getting chased by you feels a lot more like getting chased by a dog than a cat, I think." He pauses again. "Not that I've been chased by either."

"Why am I an animal now," Schezo mumbles, and Sig shrugs.

"Can't remember." He points to the corner of the room. "'S that guitar?"

Schezo jumps and a nervous expression crosses his face. He clears his throat. "Ukulele," he responds, looking away.

"Oh." Sig isn't sure of the difference. "Can you play?" When his question is met with a pained look he clarifies, "In general. Not now."

Schezo scoffs. "Of course I can play," he grumbles. "Why else would I have it?"

"Because you tried to play and sucked at it," he drawls, earning him a harsh elbowing as Schezo turns around to leave the room.

"Come on," he snaps, "I'd rather not burn the cookies and have to go through all of that again."

"Mm."

The two make a short trip back to the kitchen, and upon arrival Schezo pulls the cookies out of the oven-

- and immediately shovels one into his mouth.

Apparently he's deemed it satisfactory because he shuts the oven door and extinguishes the magical fire.

"I think... You're supposed to wait...." Sig mumbles, a little unsure. Schezo sets the two batches aside and claims the one he's already eaten from.

"Who cares? They're my cookies, if I want to eat them while they're scorching hot and still squishy that's my business. They're better this way."

Sig decides that he has a point. They are his cookies. He plucks a white chocolate chip off the table with a claw, popping it in his mouth. Said table was littered with stray chips from when Schezo had tipped the entire bag of them over into their bowls without looking, instead looking Sig dead in the eye and telling him "if anyone ever tries to tell you how many chocolate chips you're allowed to put in any of your baking, you tell them to fuck off, recipe or no."

Sig doesn't know if he'll ever have the opportunity to do so, especially given he's not a regular fuck-sayer or a baker, but he'll keep it in mind... As best he can.

Sig quickly decides that it's hard to wait for his own cookies to cool while Schezo's eating his. He reaches over to the tray Schezo isn't eating from and takes a bite.

Yeah. These are cookies alright.

He stretches to grab a cookie off of Schezo's tray, to which the mage lets out an indignant "hey!" Sig replaces the cookie he stole with one on his own tray, to even things out again. He takes a bite of the stolen good. Hm.

"Well," he starts, his wording unsure. He's got Schezo's attention now though, so, guess he just has to say it. "I don't really know who you were talking about earlier, but, uh," he stops to take another bite of Schezo's cookie, "'m pretty sure if nothing else you're a better baker."

Silence.

Sig's not one to get nervous easily, thankfully, and simply continues with, "Unless you're gonna tell me he was also, like... A world fair best baker for 10 years in a row. Or something."

After another beat of quiet, Schezo asks, "Did you... Really ask to try my baking, follow me to my house, assist in said baking, and deal with me tricking you into drinking vanilla extract.... Just to get to say that?"

"It's uh. 'S not really a house," Sig starts, but seeing the expression on Schezo's face he backtracks, "but no. I also want to get to tell Lemres I took sweets from you before him."

"Why?"

"Wanna see the look on his face."

Schezo seems to take a moment to register what was said. He starts laughing, then. Not the kind of mad howling he'd done earlier; this was gentler, almost soft. He smiles at his cookie, unwilling to look Sig in the eye. "No," he says, the harsh bite normally present in his voice now missing, "I don't think he was. A world fair best baker, I mean. I'm pretty sure he'd be kicked out of any fairs he went to for one reason or another."

"See?" Sig says, finishing his cookie off. "So uh, clearly you've done... Something right."

Schezo glances up at Sig, then back down. "Thank you," he says, and if he were talking to anyone else the genuinity of the statement would've caught them off-guard. He wasn't talking to anyone else though- he was talking to Sig, who responds only with a nod he can't see, and then they both fall silent.

Only three cookies in, Sig admits, "I can't eat all of this."

"You have friends, don't you?" Schezo inquires, already halfway through his own batch.

"I don't have any way to bring them to them."

Schezo removes himself from the table to go rooting through his cabinets again. Sig watches with mild curiosity, and reacts a little too late when a Tupperware container is thrown at him. It hits him squarely in the nose, and then falls to the floor. He leans down to pick it up as Schezo turns to face him.

"I expect you to bring that back," he points out. Sig decides not to mention the fact that that means he has to actually come back to do that.

"Sure thing," he says instead, throwing cookies in the container.

When he leaves, there are no goodbyes exchanged. Sig waves, Schezo huffs at the wall, and then he's gone off back home. He's fine with that. He'll be seeing him again anyways.

Sig gets questioned when he offers his classmates the cookies.

Lidelle does not ask him anything, but she is ultimately the one who starts it. "I didn't know you baked," she points out, after asking him to set one on her desk (she'll eat it later, when no one is looking).

"Oh, yeah!" Amitie exclaims through a mouthful of cookie, "I've never seen you do that!"

"I don't," Sig responds, using his clawed hand to scratch at the back of his head.

"He probably bought them somewhere," Klug mutters, and immediately after hisses "ow!" because Raffina elbowed him.

"You should be grateful he's offering you any at all!" She hisses.

"Didn't buy 'em anyways. Made them." As an afterthought he adds, "With help."

"Oh! Oh! With help?" Amitie leans over her desk to get closer to him. "From who??"

"Uh," Sig starts, and then he doesn't finish.

"Come oooonnnn," Amitie groans, "tell me!"

"Surely it's not any of us," Klug says, eyeing his cookie a little warily now that he's been informed that Sig did, indeed, make it. "Elsewise he wouldn't be offering."

"Lemres bakes, I think..." Lidelle murmurs. Amitie snaps her fingers and nods, looking over at Sig for confirmation. The muscles in his face twitch in a manner that suggests "no," but it's a blink and you'll miss it moment.

"No offense meant towards Lemres," Raffina says, rolling her eyes, "but last I checked Sig didn't trust him with a ten foot pole. Or any pole, for that matter."

Klug grumbles something Sig can't hear, but it's probably disdain over the fact that he dares be so cruel to his idol, so he chooses to ignore it. "Ruffena's right," he says, also ignoring the way Raffina sputters at his mispronunciation, "it wasn't Lemres."

"Darn," Amitie hisses, and starts drumming her fingers along the desk. "Hmmm," she hums, "hmmmmm hm hm hmmm,"

"Would you can it!" Klug reprimands. He turns to Sig. "What about Arle? You're friends or whatever, right?"

"Doesn't Arle only really know how to make curry?" Raffina cuts in.

"I don't know!" Klug yells. "It's not like we're best friends or something! I only know her in association with that!" He points to Amitie, who has moved to balancing a pencil on her upper lip. She only stops when she realizes she's getting pointed at, and lets the pencil drop with a clatter onto the table.

"Huh?"

"Don't worry about it," Klug mutters.

"So not Lemres," Raffina confirms, "And probably not Arle," she looks to Sig just to make sure, and he gives her the slightest shake of the head. She leans back in her chair. "Well, I for one am not going to question it." She takes a bite of cookie and hums. "This is acceptable enough."

"Thanks," Sig responds, undeterred by her lackluster response.

"But I am!" Amitie yells. "Come on Sig, who is it?"

Klug gives her a withering look. "Why does it matter to you so much?"

"Because! If Sig's making new friends I wanna know about it!"

"I wouldn't really call him a friend..." Sig admits, looking off to the side. Amitie points at him like she's just made an incredible discovery.

"So it's a 'him,' then!"

"Yeah."

"Oshare!"

"Can he bake?" Lidelle asks.

"Gogotte!"

"That's soup," Raffina deadpans.

"Popoi!"

"He is a cat," Klug says, adopting a similar tone to Raffina. "And also, a puppet."

"Ugh!" Amitie slams her fist against her desk. "I give! Tell me!"

"Schezo."

The group goes quiet.

Or at least it does until Klug begins coughing, trying to hack up the pieces of cookie he's already long swallowed. Raffina glares at him. "Now what are you going and doing that for!?"

"He probably- pffhtba!- poisoned it! So he could kill us- aHACK!- and take our magic!"

"What would he do that for if he's not even here!" She slaps the hat off of Klug's head to which he responds with a yelp, trying to make a grab for it while it's still in the air. He fails, and it lands on the classroom floor. "Cease this undignified behavior at once, you cretin!"

Klug gets out of his chair to retrieve his hat, mumbling something that sounds an awful lot like "you're a cretin..." Amitie, meanwhile, looks like she's having a breakdown.

"Get real," she whispers. "Get really, really real. No way. Schezo?"

"I'm real," Sig confirms. He blinks. "Getting real?"

"I think... Being real? Maybe?" Lidelle offers.

Sig nods. "That sounds right. I'm being real." He reaches into his borrowed container to get a cookie for himself. "I made these with Schezo. His recipe. I think. I 'unno, he said he eyeballs it."

"Why?" Amitie asks.

"He's probably too impatient to find and read any actual instructions."

"No no, I mean, why were you baking with him?"

"He seemed sad," Sig answers honestly.

Klug, slapping his hat back on his head, frowns at Sig. "You risked going near Schezo- who mind you, you've already had poor experiences with- for a long enough period of time to bake cookies with him... Because he seemed sad."

"In his house," Sig adds, and Klug looks like he's going to have an aneurysm.

"In his HOUSE!... CAVE! THING!"

"That's awfully nice of you," Raffina says, managing to sound only slightly passive aggressive. At least, Sig doesn't catch it. "What spurred you to do that?"

Sig points at Amitie. "Think she's rubbing off on me."

"Aww!" Amitie giggles. "Well, did it work?"

"Think so."

"And he didn't try anything weird?" She narrows her eyes. "He didn't try to like, hurt you, or sacrifice you to the dark gods?"

Klug opens his mouth at the "dark gods" comment but Sig manages to answer before any noise comes out. "No, not really."

"Nothing villain-y?" She presses, just to be sure.

Sig stops to think about that one. "He fed me vanilla extract."

Everyone winces. A moment of silence is taken for Sig's loss of innocence.

Amitie reaches sneakily for another cookie, but she's not sneaky enough. Sig lightly pushes her hand out of the way with a blunt "no." She blows a raspberry at him in response.

"Why noooot?" She wines, giving him Amitie-branded puppy eyes.

"Still got one more person to offer to." Sig turns to Klug. "D'you know if Lemres is in town?"

The stars have aligned for Sig, today. Lemres is indeed in town, and Feli happens to be following him. This is also a boon for Sig, because it means that she and Klug begin bickering almost immediately upon setting sights on each other. This, ironically, means that Sig has him all to himself.

Sig lifts the container up to Lemres' face, momentarily distracting him from his dilemma of 'run away or separate them?' "Cookie?" He offers.

"Oh!" Lemres' eyebrows raise, surprised at Sig's offer. "Well, thank you! How kind!" He reaches in to get a cookie for himself. He takes a bite out of it and hums. "I can tell these aren't box made. Did you make them?"

"Yeah," Sig responds. He waits a second before adding, "with Schezo."

Lemres pauses. "Schezo? Really?"

"Yup."

The ground briefly shakes beneath them as Klug yells "Tectonics!" Feli responds by following with "Horary!" When the resulting lights die down, realization is settling in Lemres' face.

"His baking is actually really good," Sig continues. "I think I'm gonna go back and ask him for more sometime."

The strained smile and look of pain the Comet Warlock displays is priceless. Sig decides to make an effort to thank Schezo when he returns his container to him.

#puyo puyo #fanfic #schezo wegey #sig puyo puyo #amitie puyo puyo #klug #raffina puyo puyo #lidelle puyo puyo #lemres puyo puyo #Honestly Feli is here for such a brief moment I don't even think she needs a direct tag #Sig and Schezo Friendship Propaganda #< Note that says friendship. Don't make me tap the sign

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romanarose · 2 years

Text

Sunshine, Starlight, Sweetheart, Brightside Chapter 7

Masterlist

Chapter 6 : Chapter 8

Moon Knight fanfiction with Steven and my OC, Sam

This chapter is more focused on Sam and Marc! I promise I'll make a masterlist one of these days

Little angst, talk of medication, maybe slight eating stuff??? Marc and Sam chapter <3 gets fluffy, the name of the work will make sense with this chapter! Next chapter we finally get smuuuuuuut!!!!

That morning, Steven woke up in Sam’s bed to the sound of her cooking breakfast “Morning love” he said groggily, wiping the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hi love. I’m making banana pancakes, have you ever had them? I love them as a low carb substitute for regular pancakes.

Once again, Steven wondered why she was concerned about carbs and calories, but they had a long day last night and he didn't want to drag her issues out again. “That sounds delicious, love.”

She brought him over a stack of them topped with actual bananas, blueberries, and set a bottle of sugar-free syrup on the bed stand “I ground chia seeds instead of flour, it’s super good for you, and I think tastes better than flour”

“Wow, you’ve been busy this morning. Did I sleep through all that?”

Sam chuckled “Yeah, I couldn’t really sleep last night”

Let me talk to her alone real fast no way, why? Come on are you gonna be nice? I was plenty nice last night, c’mon “Marc wants to talk to you alone”

“Oh. Okay?”

“Is that alright?”

“Yeah, of course”

Behave Yeah yeah yeah Marc fronted and Steven left the consciousness.

“What’s up” she was dodging eye contact

“How much did you sleep last night?”

Shrugging, she replied “I don’t know. I just woke up early and couldn’t go back to sleep”

“You woke up two other times last night.” he took a bite of the pancakes.

She turned around “What?”

“I didn’t think you’d remember. You were in a haze. You were having nightmares.”

“Oh, sorry, did I wake you? Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Marc insisted “You woke up and fell back asleep at least twice. You were sweating all night. Aren’t you on meds to stop the nightmares?” He looked at her with a mix of concern, but also the face of a man trying to solve a case.

“Yeah I am, sometimes I still get them. What about it?” She said this as a challenge, daring him to keep going.

He took the challenge “You aren’t taking your meds, are you?”

She looked like she had been caught “You don’t know what you’re talking about”

“The burns, the nightmares… You cleaned your entire apartment and made chia seed banana pancakes before 8 am, is this your mania?” He ate more of the pancakes.

“Cleaning my apartment is a good thing. You were watching me?” she attempted to deflect.

“You think Steven would’ve slept through all that? You vacuumed the living room”

“I have a quiet vacuum,” she muttered defensively.

“You aren’t denying not taking your meds”

“Why do you care?! Shouldn’t you be anti medication? You have as much need for it as I do.”

“I’m against it for me, not you. You need them, you said so yourself.”

“Well, I don’t. They freaked Steven out, so I stopped taking them. I’m just adjusting, but once things are back to normal, it’s gonna stress him out a lot less”

“It stresses him out that you hurt yourself!”

“DROP IT!” she shouted, and immediately looked apologetic “Oh my god, oh my god Marc I’m so sorry I can’t believe I did that, I’m so sorry”

Marc fought the urge to be defensive, fought the urge to yell back “Stop! Stop apologizing for everything, jesus christ!” Ok that wasn’t the best response either.

“Are you going to tell Steven? Please don’t, please”

“I won’t, but only because you should be open to your actual boyfriend. You can’t just rely on me to notice these things. He is too love struck to pay that much attention. You need to actually be open with him.”

She paused, the face she made was almost unreadable, somewhere between a glare and looking hurt “He doesn’t need to worry about that kind of thing”

“He worries anyway, all you’re doing is leaving him in the dark about why.” One more bite of pancakes “these pancakes taste like dieting. Here’s Steven.”

“Marc wait-” Marc was gone, sweet Steven was back.

“Everything okay love?”

“Yeah. It’s fine. You hate the pancakes, don’t you?”

The pancakes weren’t the best, they tasted like health food, but the fact she made them for him? He would eat them every day “No! They are very thoughtful, infact” To make his point, he finished a large bite, leaving the plate empty “I’d like more if you have them!” Sam gave a sad smile and added two more to his plate “I gotta go with my Little Sister, I’ll be back in a few hours, you can hang out here. Maybe we can go walk around the park this evening?” She sounded sad.

“That sounds great. Are you alright?” “Yeah, I’m fine” she grabbed her jacket “I’ll see you latter” she rushed out the door, trying to push down her frustration.

Steven found the nearest mirror “Marc get your ass out here right now!”

He demanded.

Marc appeared, looking irritated “Don’t blame me”

“Well whose fault it is then? Yours.”

“How do you know it’s not hers?”

“Marc, look me in the eye and tell me it was her fault.” Marc was silent “Yeah, that’s what I thought. What. did. You. do?”

“She’ll tell you about it when she’s ready.”

“God dammit! You can’t just let me be happy, can you?”

Marc was genuinely offended. “How can you say that?”

Steven felt bad immediately “right, sorry, shouldn’t have said that. But why are you trying to get in the way of Sam and I?”

“I’M NOT TRYING TO GET IN THE WAY! Jesus, I’m trying to help you, asshole. You have lived a comfortable life, you don’t understand her brain.”

“How dare you say I’ve lived a comfortable life when a few months ago I found out I’m not real, my mom hates me, she’s dead, and so is a brother I never knew I had? That I go around at night killing people? I don’t have to understand everything, at least I’m not an ass to her. Why is it that she's upset after every interaction you’d had? The scarf, today, last night-”

“Hey! Do not blame me for last night. You wouldn’t know anything if I hadn’t asked her”

Steven decided to stop talking before he said more hurtful things “You’re right, you’re right. I’m just” he sighed “I’m gonna do the dishes and wait for her to come back. Whatever happened, can you just… try to get along? Please?”

“Fine.”

When Sam came back, she seemed perfectly fine, like nothing had happened. She even asked Steven to ask Marc what he was hungry for, and Marc replied he wanted pasta. They spent a lazy afternoon together after lunch, Sam talking about her Little Sister’s family and how it seems the girl is just not getting her emotional needs met. As usual, Steven and Sam watched Doctor Who while they ate. Marc wanted so badly to just never talk to her again until she spoke to Steven about the meds, he wanted to give her the silent treatment. But He knew it wasn’t the right path. He fronted, Be nice “Why do you like this show so much?” he asked

Hearing Marc, she stiffened “I know you think it’s stupid.”

“No, I just don’t get it. I like things other people think are stupid. I just don’t get the love.”

Sighing, she let down a few walls “You wanna really know? No judgment?”

“Yeah”

“Obviously, growing up was bad. This show was my escape. The show, books, graphic novels, fanfiction, tumblr posts… it got excessive.” A big sigh “I needed to know there was something else out there. I had what I guess can be classified as dissociation. I managed to convince myself it was real, I know I know it’s incredibly stupid but I just needed to beleive there was an escape.”

Be nice, you ass I am, you ass “I don’t think thats stupid”

“The show was about regular people becoming extraordinary. Like Rose just worked in a store and she saved worlds, the people working in offices impacted lives. Donna insisted she wasn’t special but she became the most important woman in the world… I needed to believe that despite the mess that I am, I could be more. So I convinced myself that he was real and everything could be real. It was how I got through things. I created a fantasy world to live in. You probably think I’m fucking nuts.”

Make chuckled wryly “I’m the last person to think anyone is nuts. And I understand being obsessed with a media and creating a fantasy world around it. Hell that’s kinda how Steven started.” Marc stop.

Sam turned to Marc, looking intently “What do you mean?”

“Oh… shit”

“Is Steven not…”

Marc hesitated “The original?”

“I didn’t want to phrase it like that… But. yeah.”

Marc groaned LOUDLY “Oh my god, you two havn’t talked about this yet?”

“Steven tries not to tell me much about you… He wants you to tell me…”

Another sigh “Fine. Long story short, when I was a kid, my brother died and it was my fault” No, it wasn’t “My mom blamed me too. She started drinking, and she…” Marc stopped, he wasn’t sure how far he wanted to go Tell her. You know everything about her, most of which we pried out “My mom hit me” Sam’s face shifted to sympathy “Stop, no, don’t look at me like that. I was obsessed with this old B movie that was kinda off-brand Indiana Jones, I guess. The main character was Steven Grant. So when shit started and I guess Steven happened, he was kinda my way of creating a different world. I don’t know” Marc was uncomfortable.

“I’m so sorry… Sound’s like we’re more similar than you’d like to admit”

He smiled at her “Sam, I would be proud if I was more like you. But I’m not. You are sunshine and looking on the brightside and love… you are all good things. I am not. You and Steven are way more similar… does it… bother you that he’s not the original?”

She laughed a bit “No, actually” her smile was bright “I supposed it should, but it doesn’t. Bit weird isn’t it? It is.”

Marc laughed back “careful, you keep answering your own rhetorical questions, you’ll turn into Steven.” Sam was considering him again “What now, Sam?”

“I just… Do you still talk to your mom? I only ask because Steven avoids telling me anything about his family… I guess that makes sense…”

I suppose it’s all out now, no turning back “She died. I didn’t see her for years beforehand. My dad wanted me to sit Shiva with him, but I couldn’t do it.”

Her ears perked up “Oh. You’re jewish? I didn’t know that.”

He smiled a bit “Yeah, I guess, technically. Bit odd when I served an Egyption god, but I suppose it is what it is.”

“Reform, conversative, or Orthadox?”

“Conservative. My dad was a Rabbi. I guess I feel about him the way you feel about your mom. I love him, but he was weak. He didn’t protect me. But I love him.”

“I know. It’s a lot of emotions tied to one person, isn’t it?”

“Yeah. It is. But enough about my bullshit, tell me what the fuck is happening in this episode because I am lost, Brightside.”

“Brightside?”

He smiled fondly “Yeah. I think it fits you.”

Sam blushed and looked away “Bit odd of a name for a depressed mess”

When Marc heard her call herself a mess, he felt something tugging at his heart. He leaned closer, looking into her eyes intently so that she knew he wasn’t lying. “I don’t think you are a mess, I think you are kind of amazing, actually.”

Sam sat up onto her legs and put her hands on Marc’s shoulders, searching his face for sarcasm, jokes or a snide remark. She brushed a curl back and kissed his forehead, then touched her head to his. Eyes closed, and hands gripping his forearms “Thank you, Starlight”

His eyes were closed as well, breathing in her scent and relishing feeling her skin, even though it was such an innocent spot “Starlight?”

“Yeah” brushing through his hair with her finger tips, she mimicked his words back to him “I think it fits you”

#moon knight fanfiction #moon knight #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight smut #marc spector smut #steven grant smut #marc spector fluff

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lananiscorner · 2 years

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The Sandman rewatch - episode 7

So I like to do this thing where, if I didn’t consider a show a complete waste of time and if it does have an actual arc spanning the season, I watch the season twice–once as a binge watch and then once more episode by episode, because it helps me notice things I didn’t notice at first, especially in cases like this where I’m almost entirely unfamiliar with the source material.

Anyway, any and all chronological thoughts and ramblings about episode 6 of The Sandman beneath the cut, because spoilers.

Well, we’re starting this episode off on a lovely note. Rose’s dad can get fucked for all I care.

You know you’re messed up when the anthropomorphic personification of Despair tells you that you’ve gone too far.

Oh, so the whole business with Nada was Desire’s fault too? I guess there’s one in every family…

Rose has guts going straight from “sure, I’ll pay you” to “you’re not hiring by any chance, right?”

It’s nice to see Lucienne actually being wrong about something for a change. Also, I wanna know what’s residing in Abel’s basement. lol

Wow, Dream’s castle is looking nice again. Took him barely any time to fix the place up, huh?

Aww, Matthew is volunteeering to help out Dream by watching over Rose in the waking world.

Lyta and Rose’s banter about the annoyance of getting asked for ID or not XDDD. Relatable.

I remember watching this episode for the first time and being very impressed by the way they had handled setup and payoff in this show, and honestly, I still am. Quick story writing lesson: setup and payoff refers to introducing a plot point/item/character etc. early in a way that doesn’t disturb the plot and immediately scream “hey this is is important—remember this!” in spite of it becoming important later. If done right, the audience will go “oh wait, it’s plot point/item/character X from that earlier scene/episode!” when they get to the important part. This show is excellent with setup and payoff. So many things that may seem like filler/fluff actually make sense later. Good job, writers!

I love how Unity was so worried Rose would just be like “you’re crazy, I’m leaving”, yet the first thing Rose does when finding out that she’s got a great-grandma is hug her. ;_;

Omg the serial killer get-together! I love how this starts out like a totally normal conversation, then they mention the Corinthian and you might think “okay, maybe they’re talking about a different Corinthian or maybe he is like… a super famous chess player or something whenever he’s not murdering people”… and then she pulls out the picture of an eyeless murder victim and calls it exquisite and your brain just screeches to a halt like “what the fuck did I just walk into?”

And I just realize where I remember Rose’s friend Carl from—he was the doppelgänger on The Witcher!

Jesus Christ, the Good Doctor. XDD She’s not crossing the line, she’s dancing back and forth over it.

Oh hey, the fates are back! This can only end in tears.

“Beware dreams and houses”--that’s gotta be the most useless advice ever lol.

Unity just casually dropping the “oh btw, our family is loaded” bomb XD.

Lmfao, Carl here just casually seducing a walking nightmare.

Oh, that’s a picture of the girl from two episodes ago! Judy, I think?

“Any unusual behavior.” - “Said the pumpkin to the talking bird.” Lmao, please don’t ever change, Matthew.

I swear to god, Hal looks exactly like one of my former co-workers. I had to look up his actor to make sure my ex-co-worker hadn’t gone to Hollywood.

Also, I adore Zelda and Chantal. Fun fact: there were exactly two sub culture groups for girls in my middle/high school (in Germany, we don’t separate those two)--you either went with the fake tan bitches, or the goth rock punks. The latter were infinitely more inclusive.

I genuinely do feel for both Rose and the foster care case worker in this scene. There’s only so much you’re allowed to do by law and it’s just an all around shitty situation for everyone.

That said, the moment she mentioned the money, I knew where this was going.

Gilbert is amazing. And so much of his demeanor makes sense once you know who he really is.

Oh great, the Corinthian has found his people. This cannot end badly for anyone, nope.

Rose just casually strolling into Dream’s throne room and you can tell from the look on his face that he’s going “aw damn, so much for her not being an active threat—I might actually really have to end up killing this girl”.

Yep, Jed’s foster father is a piece of shit. Now we know where those 800/month are going.

#The Sandman #episode 7 rewatch #kind of a live blog I guess

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lunazuniga-smith · 2 years

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Generational Trauma- A sibling para

Tagging: @detkhamani With: Luna and Andres Zuniga Notes: Luna tells her older brother about Cannon and moving in with Khamani and well, he’s not so happy.

“Es que no te entiendo, Lunita. I don’t understand what you’re telling me.”

Luna sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “What is there to understand? You’re acting like this is the most difficult concept to grasp.”

“Well, for starters. You. You’re talking about helping Khamani raise a child. A whole human. Are you actually serious?”

“Again, why would I joke about this? And why are you being purposely obtuse? Can we move on from this topic, please? I’ve made my choice.” Luna pushed her drink toward the middle of the table in hopes that the waitress would come by to clear their table. “I think I’m done here.”

“She says she’s done here. Have you even spoken to papi about this?”

“Papi loves Khamani and so does mami. I don’t know what’s yours and Marcos’ ass but honestly, you’re showing yourself and it’s ugly and I’m not here for this. I’m an adult and you need to respect my relationship. I didn’t go around bitching when you decided to screw half of San Francisco and act all innocent as if you don’t think you’re the gift to women. Please!” She rolled her eyes.

“Very nice, Lunita. So I’m a dick. That’s fine. Doesn’t mean you get to date one. There I said it.”

“Oh screw off, Andres! Why do I even tell you anything?”

“Because I’m your older brother! I don’t know because I raised you when mami and papi were in Mexico? Maybe those things mean something to someone in this family?”

“Oh man.” She chuckled and shook her head. “You’re really going to act like Luz Elena didn’t raise us.”

“Sure. But then she got married at 19 and decided we’re no longer her responsibility.:

“Jesus Fucking Christ, Andres it wasn’t her responsibility! I know mami and papi had no choice but it shouldn’t have fallen on us. We were kids!” Luna gripped her napkin. “And that little boy needs as much as much love as he can get and I’m going to support Khamani and that baby. We’re looking for a bigger place.”

“We? Together? Wow. This is serious. You go form not know where this relationship is going, being the laughing stock of the family, getting this reputation that is now following you around...”

“Shut up. Shut up. Don’t say something stupid because I swear to God I will disown our siblingship.” She took a deep breath. “I’m a grown woman and I get to do whatever I want. My relationship and how I handled things on that show is my business and my business only.”

“Well, Lunita then you shouldn’t have gone on a reality television show if that were the case.” He leaned back into his chair and sucked his teeth. “Aye,..so? what ? I’m the last to know?”

“Yeeep. Because you and Marcos are the spawn of satan. Luz Elena already wants to give away some of the boy’s toys and Mami and Papi want to contribute to the apartment and getting Cannon settled.”

“Cannon? Pero que se le metio a Khamani naming him that?”

She rolled her eyes. “It was his ex, you idiot.” The waitress came by to pick up the table and Andres winked at her, smirking and slipping her a giant tip. “God, you’re so gross.” Luna sighed and reached for her bag.

“Look, you want to act like you own me and Marcos because you’re the big bad big brother, you can do that in your delusional little head. I’m not a child and while Marcos may act like one, he isn’t either. We’re not your responsibility and not Luz Elena’s. We can do for us. You want to be there for me and eventually be a part of my wedding part or involved at all in my life that now consists of and will always consist of Khamani and Cannon then you need to wipe that stupid expression off your face and respect my boyfriend. Otherwise, I don’t want to talk to you until you figure out what your problem is.”

Andres wrote his phone number on the bill and then looked up at Luna as she spoke. “If he hurts you...”

“He won’t. He hasn’t. You need to start paying attention.”

“I guess we can make some sort of lunch or dinner plans.” Andres stood up when Luna did. “And bring the kid. Como se llama? Ka none?”

“Cannon. Just Cannon. You don’t have to turn into Spanish.”

“Oh ya veo. Como cañón? Dios. Okay. Okay, Lunita. I’ll talk to Marcos and I’ll be there at the next family dinner. Deal?”

“Deal. See you then, Andres.” She rolled her eyes and left the restaurant. Hopefully Marcos and Andres would be on their best behavior.

“

#( paras. )

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harringtonspolaroids · 2 years

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omg ok so robin x popular! reader where she’s a cheerleader who robin thought was out of her league (and straight) but they both just have massive crushes on each other

a/n: anon this literally took me out of my writers block ty ty i loved this sm 🙏🙏 also the ending kinda sucks but its wtv !!

word count: 1054

warnings: light cursing, this is not proofread

𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐦𝐞 | 𝐫𝐨𝐛𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐥𝐞𝐲

Robin sighed as she watched you walk right in front of her, with the rest of the cheer squad onto the gym’s floor.

She tried to look uninterested, like she merely thought the team's dancing and efforts to draw the crowds attention was just decent. But Robin couldn’t help but look at you. The way your smile seemed to brighten the entire room, the way you waved your arms and jumped around laughing, shaking those ridiculous green and white pom poms. She thought you looked like the most gorgeous girl in Hawkins, hell, maybe even in all of Indiana.

Then the basketball team walked out onto the floor.

You so clearly liked them. Robin watched you try to hide your embarrassment of being singled out by one of the team players, as he sent you a wink. Robin rolled her eyes at his pathetic attempts to flirt, but she couldn’t deny that was partly jealousy. She wanted to be the one who made you get all nervous, she wanted to be the one you liked, not some ugly basketball player that probably reeked of trashy cologne and was a total pig.

Robin just faked a smile and continued playing her trumpet. It was ridiculous to think that you would ever like her, even as a friend. You were too good for her.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

You let out a laugh, as the guy whose name you had kind of already forgotten, continued rattling on about a party you’d skipped over the weekend.

In reality, you weren’t paying attention to him. Your locker was at the perfect location, right in front of the band room, allowing you to peer inside. Sure the people you mostly associated with thought they were all a bunch of dorks and losers, but you thought they had substance. Specifically the girl with the short hair and raspy voice. You had never gotten her name. All you knew was that she was pretty, and nice, and funny. Or at least you hoped so. You didn’t really talk.

“See you Friday?” the boy looked nervous, and you didn’t even remember what plans you had agreed to.

“Of course, I’ll see you then, buddy!” You cringed slightly at your use of the phrase, but Jesus Christ you had no idea how to let him down easily.

You watched as he left, some disappointment in his eyes.

Robin walked out of the band room, her backpack slung over her shoulder, as she held her trumpet case in her hand. She hated having practice because you would always be right outside, close enough that if she wanted to she could just talk to you, yet still out of reach. Yet it seemed that today, you would be closer to her than before.

“Ohhhhh, shit, I’m so sorry-” Robin stammered as she knelt to the floor picking up the instrument’s case.

“No- no- it’s my fault I totally tripped you- on accident of course, I never would've wanted to trip you on purpose it’s just that I wasn’t looking.” You rambled on kneeling on the floor to help pick up some sheet music that had also fallen onto the floor.

You looked up over at her, as your hands met when you reached for a paper. “Oh, is this supposed to be for the next game?”

“I’m sorry what?” Robin's mouth felt dry, she couldn’t believe she was standing in your sheer presence and now you were talking to her and touching her hand? It felt unreal.

You waved the paper in the air as you handed it to her, “Is it the music for the basketball game, next week?”

“Yeah, yeah, it’s uhm, supposed to be for the next game- you already knew that though because you just said it and of course you are going to be at the next game because you, well cheer and- and I- I cannot shut up holy shit… I’m sorry. You probably don’t,” Robin cleared her throat, “want to hear me talk that much. Shutting up now.” Robin let out a nervous laugh. She was so convinced she had ruined everything, even the chance of you becoming friends or even just people who you talked to in the hallway.

“It’s totally okay, don’t worry about it. It’s actually kinda cute.”

Robin was sure she looked like a deer standing in front of headlights. Her brain was definitely fried from pulling all nighters and drinking too much coke. There was no way you just called her “cute”.

Calling her “cute” was totally different from you calling her “nice” or “friendly” or even “not as annoying as everyone said.” And there was also no way you were actually flirting with her. Or were you?

Robin’s mind felt like it was running a thousand miles a second.

You could feel what you thought was an uncomfortable silence. Maybe Robin didn’t get your hint. “Hey you know what I just remembered? I’m supposed to come up with a new routine for the girls on the team- its a whole thing- but, I was thinking, maybe I could come over and practice at your place on Friday and you could serve as the music? It’s silly, I know but-”

“It’s not silly at all, it sounds like a great idea. I love it, but are you sure you don’t have plans with your boyfriend?” It was Robin’s last ditch effort to confirm that you were in fact into girls.

“I don’t have a boyfriend. I’m actually not really looking for a boyfriend right now,” you said, trying to enunciate the boy part of it all.

Robin’s eyes were wide open as she got your message, “Oh! Okay, then yeah it totally works for me, I can swing by later and give you my place…”

“So it’s a date?” you asked hopefully.

Robin swallowed, “Yeah. A date.”

You smiled and squeezed Robin’s arm, “I can’t wait.”

Robin watched you float down the hall, a new bounce in your step as you headed over to a group of girls Robin wasn’t really a fan of. ‘A date’. The words echoed in Robin’s mind. She was going on a date with you. It felt truly unreal. Yet somehow, a part deep inside of Robin felt like it was meant to be. It was just you and her.

#robin buckley #robin buckley x reader #robin buckley x y/n #robin buckley fanfic #robin buckley imagine #robin buckley x you #also the title and general storyline was also heavily inspired by you belong with me - taylor swift so do with that you will

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ptergwen · 3 years

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I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)

friends close, enemies closer

ik this is cherry BUT i had to

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness

a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)

you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.

you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.

the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.

peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.

bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.

this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.

you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.

that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.

“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”

god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.

“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.

about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.

“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”

here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.

you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”

he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.

“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”

of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…

you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.

“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.

he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.

you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”

your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”

he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?

“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”

although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.

would that be so terrible?

absolutely.

you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”

he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.

“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.

peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.

that’s a problem.

you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.

“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”

narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”

they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.

“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”

“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”

that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.

once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.

he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.

chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.

“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.

you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”

“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”

laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.

rivalry be damned.

“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”

you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.

“lead the way.”

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #peter parker fic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker imagine #peter parker au #peter parker smut #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland smut #tom holland imagine #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction

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nightferns · 3 years

Text

The Third Variant to the SootCraft Fundy and Wilbur family drama that Maybe Accidentally Started it

So yesterday me and @bigbraveboop came to the conclusion that C!fundy had an arc in early early L'manburg that we were kinda unaware of. And it cracks the case of... how the family drama started. And also is why is this exists

C!Tommy was the catalyst of the c!Fundy | c!Wilbur family drama in S1 and i promise i have proof

all /rp

So what does Fundy repeatedly say is his biggest gripe with Wilbur currently and multiple times after his death? Well:

“You were there for me for a very very long time and then when i needed you the most, you skedaddled fuck the out of my life and died. Because of what? L’manberg’s causes, huh? You thought that was- You thought that was justice? You thought that was good for me? You left me, man.’

“The dad that- my dad that exploded himself for the sake of a country, just for that country to be demolished in future hands?-"

“He put me to priority number 2, man. He put me in the second place.”

So its about L’manburg being more important than him to Wilbur.

Now lets dig deep, where did that insecurity start? Why did Fundy arrive at this conclusion? Why did he feel like this in the first place about his position in L’manburg and his Father?

We kinda assume it was always there or was because of Wilbur actually prioritizing L’manburg over his son/being negectfull. But no! Fundy was very confident in his realtionship with Wilbur and his position in L’manburg at the Start and we see tha change so!

I want to argue that this insecurity... didn't come from Wilbur or any of his actions or lack thereof. Not directly.

“Wilbur? I dunno, Wilbur’s a man of chaos, alright- due to the lore of the server, Wilbur may or may not have been the father of our nation, but- that doesn’t mean he’s for everything I do. That doesn’t mean he stands behind me, alright? Not necessarily...not necessarily.”

This is the first instance of Fundy doubting his connection to Wilbur helping things, i'd argue it still was a part of a lighhearted bit that isn’t to be taken too seriously in the context of the larger story but i realized something that made me change my mind, i mean it is still a lighthearted bit but it connects to a certain quote from uncle Innit:

“What would father think?”

And then that got me thinking and:

Part 1 aka Early L'manburg Fundy had different feelings towards Wilbur than Civil War Fundy

So how did Fundy act towars Wilbur early on?

Fundy: "Don't speak to me ma- hey that's fucked up don't talk about that. That's-"

Tommy: "Listen Th- you gotta kn- you gotta know you don't speak to the boss's son like that. Nevermind about- about the boss's wife to the boss's son in front of the boss's right hand man! You really gotta- You really gotta read the room Thunder."

Fundy: "Yea you don't. You don't."

JM: "fine ok let him do what he wants to do, i just don't wanna hear about it [..]"

Tommy: "Listen to me Fundy- Listen to me Fundy- he didn't mean that- he's just a bold man- he had- he had a little-"

Fundy [turning to JM]: "I will tell on you."

Tommy: " NO no no no Fundy- Fundy He had a little flirt with Dream- he had a little flirt with dream, he's- he's a- he's really new, he's learing his boundaries, he's over stepped them, alright, listen, but you don't have to tell Will, you don't have to tell no-one. "

[To JM] "Thunder you need to to calm your fucking- holy shit."

"-Please, please give him a rest."

JM: "no i- im sorry, im sorry, i'm sorry Fundy"

Fundy: 'I don't want this behavior again, alright."

JM: "no i wont- i wont-"

Fundy: 'Don't talk to my Dad OR my salmon Mother like that ever again, i will tell on you, keep it in mind. I have privilege to speak up against-"

JM: "i understand."

I will come back to the i have a privilege line later but first, from this we see Fundy being confident that Wilbur would take his side because he is his son. He is the “i will tell my parents about this” kid, alongside that he doesn’t feel like he has no imput in decisions, he doesnt feel insecure here he is in the position of power.

So again when did it appear?

Well,

Fundy: “I may or may not have scammed a bunch of people, including all of L’manburg people, um…”

Tommy: “You scammed L’manburg members?!”

Fundy: “But here’s the thing – I’m willing to pay you a part of the profit if you help me out here!”

Tommy: “Fundy…okay, can I tell you what’s happened from my point of view? The son of the President has gone around scamming the other presidential members, and as the Vice President whilst the President’s not on, this is my duty to make sure that this doesn’t pull apart L’manburg. And what you’re saying – what you’ve essentially just said is, ‘hey, can I bribe you?’“

Fundy: “…Can I?”

Tommy: “Jesus Christ…No, okay, we need to settle this now, ‘cause I mean if this happens on my turf, I’m gonna fucking take the blame from this from Wilbur, alright…so listen, Fundy, under no circumstances can you bribe anyone!”

Fundy: “I got two Netherite scraps?”

Tommy: “Okay, okay – explain to me what’s happened, please.”

[Fundy explains the conflict]

Tommy: “What would father think?”

Fundy: “Well, he always – he always sides…by me…obviously.”

Tommy: “Would he though? I mean, you’ve gone against the other members of the nation he fought to build.”

Fundy: “Well only because my loot has been stolen! Alright?”

Tommy: “This sounds petty, Fundy.”

Fundy: “Okay, okay, I can word this differently in my favor.”

Tommy: “No, okay, no – you’re not meant to say that out loud! Okay, I’m gonna ask Tubbo what’s happened, and then from there on we’ll – but please do not do any – we can’t have L’manburg falling out over this, alright?”

So here we see Fundy the president’s son being put in comparison to L’manburg the nation the president built for what Wilbur would prioritize for the first time, and Tommy sows the seeds that maybe L’manburg matters more to Wilbur than him, that Wilbur would choose the nation. this is also first time Fundy has been sort of excluded from the Whole of L’manburg.

and we see Tommy’s words affect Fundy,

Fundy: “We gotta list everyone who’s against me:”

“I killed Tubbo twice, I stole his bow. Tubbo’s probably against me.”

“Tommy has always been against me from the start.”

“Sapnap is against me because I killed his animals and stole them.”

“Punz is against me ‘cause I stole his bees.”

“Eret is against me ‘cause I went after Karl.”

“Karl’s against me ‘cause -- I just realized I’ve made a lot of enemies...I just realized I don’t have many -- I don’t have many allies on the server. There’s not many allies.”

“Who’s neutral? Niki! Niki is with me! Niki is friendly.”

“Wilbur? I dunno, Wilbur’s a man of chaos, alright...due to the lore of the server, Wilbur may or may not have been the father of our nation, but...that doesn’t mean he’s for everything I do. That doesn’t mean he stands behind me, alright? Not necessarily...not necessarily.”

“Quackity? Quackity’s definitely not -- no, listen, Quackity’s definitely not for me, okay. I called him a whore. There’s definitely -- there’s definitely many things Quackity has against me.”

so here is my argument... Fundy’s insecurity started with Tommy.

Part 2 Development Of Those Feelings (Uncle Tommy you’re not Helping)

Fundy, growing disillusioned with Wilbur and L’manburg, lead to this one coversation between Fundy and Wilbur,

Wilbur: Well the uh- the ballot entries have closed now.

Fundy: Who's in it?

Wilbur: Well it originally was just gonna be me and Tommy, me and Tommy tired to do it so- tried to do it so we will be the only ones running, then suddenly out of nowhere Quackity joins and enters himself on the ballot-

Fundy: Ok.

Wilbur: -so it's me and Tommy against Quackity and someone else.

Fundy: Who's someone else?

Wilbur: We don't know yet, he hasn't announced,

Fundy: Wait then- oh, so it's just a random… sneaky person who put himself in the ballot not announced who he is.

Wilbur: yeah, yeah. I mean if you wanna try and convince Quackity that you wanna run against your father.

Fundy: Yeah ok.

Wilbur: Wait, you- you wouldn't though.

Fundy: What if i win? What are- what are you gonna do?

Wilbur: Well then you'd be Vice President.

Fundy: but-What if i win?

Wilbur: Why do you want power in L'manburg so much?

Fundy: Why do you want power?

Wilbur: Because- i led the revolution, i'm your… i'm your president.

Fundy: That's history.

Wilbur: Wh- d- Do you not think i- i'm suitable to run for president?

Fundy: I think you are, but i think I am as well.

Wilbur: I don't know man. I don't- i think- i think you- i think you'd be s- i think you'd be getting into a fight you wouldn't want to start with me. You've only been on the positive side of me, you've only seen my nice side, because y'know? being my son you get- you get special- y'know? You won't ever see me going against you.

Fundy: Wait so you're a biased person going for presidency.

Wilbur: Biased to my son? Yes. But, if you're gonna run against me then i'm changing, i'll- i'll go guns blazing.

Fundy: I'll have a word with Quackity.

Wilbur: Fundy i… i've got- i've got- i've got a bad feeling about this. I think you're just gonna… you're just gonna get hurt.

Fundy: That will happen-

Wilbur: Fundy yeah- Yeah someone in my chat just pointed out, Fundy you started the civil war.

Niki: I mean technically Sapnap started the civil war.

Fundy: I mean- i mean technically- Yeah y' know, technically- and i'm gonna win it! It's fine! I mean what does he have on me, really?

Wilbur: I thought it was you fighting Tubbo?

Fundy: what?

Wilbur: I thought civil war was you and Tubbo?

Fundy: No, Tubbo's just a prick.

Wilbur: Sapnap's not even- not even part of L’manburg how is it a civil war?

Fundy: I don't know you brought it up!

Wilbur: Tommy told me- Tommy told me it was Tubbo and Fundy.

Fundy: Yeah no Tommy is a little bit delusional.

Wilbur: I think i've spoiled you.

Fundy: How?

Wilbur: I think you need to learn some manners.

Fundy: I dunno- power seems nice.

Wilbur: Fine, you can run against me, it won't end well for you but you can give it a go.

Fundy: Like i said i'll- i'll have a word with Quackity i'll think of my actions, see what will happen, i'm not saying necessarily that i'll go against you, then again i'm not standing beside you because you may or may not be the father of L'manburg

Wilbur: And you! The father of you!

Fundy: That's irrelevant. To-

Wilbur: No it's not irrelevant! It's very relevant to this!

Fundy: I don't- i don't think that's relevant to presidency

I’ll talk over Wilburs pov here in a little bit but focusing on Fundy,

He wants to run, other than everything we established before here Fundy wants to run to prove himself to himself, and we see the other part of this conflict more internally is,

(“[..] may or may not be the father of L'manburg- “ , “ That's irrelevant.” )

Well, here is the insecurity about Wilbur choosing L’manburg (here his position as president) over Fundy, the being second place to L’manburg part matters here becasue i think this is where Wilbur and Fundy fundamentally clash, so Fundy doesn’t want for it to matter to Wilbur, he doesn’t want for his position as son to have any influence over Wilbur here beacuse of this fear that that’s why he may be in the second place.

now let’s move on to,

Uncle Tommy ‘helps’

Fundy: “I’m wearing glasses…are you making fun of my eyesight?!”

Tommy: “Yes.”

Sapnap: “Your father would be very disappointed.”

Fundy: “Wh – disappointed for wearing glasses?!”

Tommy: “You got glasses, like what are you wearing…”

Fundy: “What do you mean?”

Tommy: “Sapnap, Sapnap, over here. Fundy, Fundy, Fundy, I’m really sorry to say this – I’m just here to publicly denounce you.”

Fundy: “…What?”

Tommy: “I just, I – yeah. You’re stinky, you’re shitty, the fur that’s sewn onto your skin, I look at it and I go (retching sounds) And whilst you’re a lovely guy, you’re actually not, you’re really…and all the viewers are like ‘oh no!’ But they can’t smell you. I can! Holy shit, you know? I mean you know, Sapnap…”

Fundy: “I showered two hours before the stream…”

Tommy: “I know, and that’s what makes it so remarkable, how you smell that terrible.”

Fundy: “I used coconut oil…it smells good…”

…

Tommy: “Fundy, I’m just here to kinda let you know that I – if you weren’t Wilbur’s son, you would be out of L’manburg, alright? Just remember – you need to keep that relationship with your father. I saw how asshole-y and bratty you were acting in the courtroom the other night. You need to pull your shit together young man.”

Fundy: “Being neutral is – is asshole?”

Tommy: “Yes. Come with me, Sapnap. Yeah, I’ve denounced you – well no no no, you were challenging him. You were challenging him.”

Fundy: “Denounced to what?”

Tommy: “I just – it’s just a formal way of saying you suck.”

(Tommy and Sapnap leave)

Fundy: “…They are mean…They are mean! Why are they so mean? That is so mean…”

Fundy: “Listen, it is one thing making fun of a person’s appearance…it is one thing making fun of a person’s blindness, but hey – don’t fucking make fun of my coconut oil! Listen dude…that shit smells tasty! That smells good! Man…that’s…god…coconut oil, man…dude.“

…

Fundy: “TNT their houses? That will just prove their point, chat. That will just prove their point. That will just prove their point…they’re just mean. They’re so mean. But it is okay, chat. It is okay. The reason why it’s okay…that’s actually true. Why is he talking to the enemy? Wait…wait a minute. Wait a minute! So let me get the story straight real quick.”

“Chat…just hold up a second here! Hold on a second! So Tommy is demoting me, right? And he’s saying you’re only in L’manburg because of Wil. So Tommy says…in theory, he would kick me out if he had the chance. But considering that, while he’s together with Sapnap…it leads me to believe…Tommy wants to destroy L’manburg!”

“Why would he do that? Why would he team up with Sapnap? He had no correlation with this conversation at all. What was the reason for that?”

“…Do we have another traitor in our midst?”

…

Fundy: “Listen, Tommy, here’s a really interesting theory, alright…here’s an interesting theory, Tommy. I got a little theory on my mind! Listen, boy, we’re part of L’manburg, you and me. Wil as well, Tubbo, all of us, alright? And we’re supposed to be a union! Now here’s the thing! Here’s the thing. If you said, due to Wilbur I’m still basically part of L’manburg – in other terms saying that if it was on your hands you would get me out of there, right, why would you excessively bring Sapnap, out of all people, for that conversation alone?”

Tommy: “Shall I explain to you? It’s because, Fundy, we fucking need votes, Fundy. We need votes! This Quack City guy, son of BadBoyHalo? He’s just – he’s just, like, oh my god. We needed votes. And listen, Fundy–”

Fundy: “You basically just lost my vote, and I feel like that’s your purpose!”

Tommy: “You’re in L’manburg! You vote for us already – you vote for your own father, don’t be an idiot!”

Fundy: “I feel like you’re trying to bring us apart, Tommy. I feel like your goals are not supportive towards L’manburg at the moment…”

Tommy: “From my perspective, Sapnap hates you, Fundy. Sapnap hates you. And if I go listen, if I had to tier list all of the members of L’manburg, Fundy would be in D tier. He needs to hear that.”

Fundy: “…Tommy, are you Eret?”

Post the court debate Fundy was more decided on running on his own,

“Honestly, I feel like everything just needs to change. Honestly, I feel like neither of the parties have done enough right to deserve leadership, to deserve presidency in the first place. I feel like a lot of shit needs to change.”

Fundy didnt want to endorse any of the parties, SWAG2020 was endorsed by Dream, and he belived POG2020 to be corrupt because of the bribing Karl situation, so he was more keen on running on his own, and then came the public denouncing situaion.

Obviously Fundy was hurt by this, especially considering Sapnap was his enemy, and Tommy’s words didnt do Fundy’s and Wilburs already shaky relationship many favours, but his behaviour both pushed Fundy futher away from the POG party, and started Fundy’s ‘traitor Tommy’ theory that he shared with Niki after which the Coconut2020 party was formed.

Part 3 Wilbur is a oblivious dumbass but it makes sense now.

now lets look at Wilburs pov of things, which means we are coming back to the privilege line,

-----

JM: "no i- im sorry, im sorry, i'm sorry Fundy"

Fundy: 'I don't want this behavior again, alright."

JM: "no i wont- i wont-"

Fundy: 'Don't talk to my Dad OR my salmon Mother like that ever again, i will tell on you, keep it in mind. I have privilege to speak up against-"

JM: "i understand."

So coming back to this quote, i belive Wilbur didnt realize Fundy had these doubts about thier relationship, because he was used to Fundy sharing his problems with him, and he was left kinda drifting in an ‘why is my son suddenly against me now??’

Wilbur didnt realize Fundy’s feelings about him had changed, as in Fundy no longer WOULD come to him if he had any probems, because Fundy used to come to him with problems, ("I will tell on you.") But Tommy’s first comment knocked him down and the debate and the Sapnap-Tommy situation had as well and the denouncement, (which Wilbur also knew shit about) because he was already insecure about his place in L’manburg and Wilbur. AND he wouldn't come to Wilbur like he used to because Wilbur was the point of his insecurity even if he wasnt the couse of it.

So we see Wilbur kinda be sad and confused and misstepping becasue of that,

Fundy: Wait so you're a biased person going for presidency.

Wilbur: Biased to my son? Yes. But, if you're gonna run against me then i'm changing, i'll- i'll go guns blazing.

Fundy: I'll have a word with Quackity.

Wilbur: Fundy i… i've got- i've got- i've got a bad feeling about this. I think you're just gonna… you're just gonna get hurt.

------

Wilbur: Tommy told me- Tommy told me it was Tubbo and Fundy.

Fundy: Yeah no Tommy is a little bit delusional.

Wilbur: I think i've spoiled you.

Fundy: How?

Wilbur: I think you need to learn some manners.

Fundy: I dunno- power seems nice.

Wilbur: Fine, you can run against me, it won't end well for you but you can give it a go.

-----

Wilbur: Wait, look who’s coming, look who’s coming.

Tommy: Uh oh!

Wilbur: My son. My boy.

Tommy: Your ex-son.

Wilbur: Yeah. Well, I mean, he’s still my son in blood, but, he’s just…

Tommy: You should put him up.

Wilbur: What d’you mean, put him up? What, for adoption?

Tubbo: For adoption.

Tommy: Yeah. You should see if Big Q will adopt him.

[They discuss Fundy’s Twitch Prime cape. He runs up on stage, to the microphone, and starts punching the air. He’s not in the same vc as them.]

Wilbur: What’s he doing, what’s he doing- what is this? What is this bit? What is he doing?

Tommy: What the fuck are you- no.

Wilbur: He’s just not- he’s not- he’s really upsetting me.

Tommy: Just- just- he’s not President is he? He’s got no manners, he has no manners. No etiquette.

Wilbur: Look, he’s supposed to be my son.

[Wilbur types in chat: “fundy talk to me” and Fundy immediately leaves the game.]

Tubbo: He is trying.

Tommy: Tubbo, you’re gonna get murdered, my friend.

Wilbutr: He said, he said, “I am here for the Presidencialcy-” He just left.

Tommy: And then he- [sighs] I’m so sorry you have to deal with him.

W: I don’t- I- It’s really sad, like I… Honestly, I- when he turned around to me and he said he wasn’t gonna vote for me, and then he decided he was gonna vote for the opposition, and then he decided he was gonna run against me, that was- one of those was the straw that broke my back. I’m not sure which one- I’m still contemplating which one was the- are you listening?

[Tommy has jumped off the podium to join Tubbo in the audience.]

Tpmmy: Yeah, I’m going down to Tubbo, I just- I’m just letting you vent, Wilbur, I want you to have time to vent.

Wilbur: Yeah I just- I miss me son! I miss me son! I miss when he was my boy! Do you remember when he was my boy?

Tommy: Yeah, I’m not really good at handling… People who are emotional.

Wilbur also didn’t know anything about the denouncement situation,

Sapnap: “Will you continue to have your son banished from L’Manberg if I vote for you?”

Wilbur: “My son. My- My son. Look, we’re talking about politics here, I don’t want to talk about my family, if that’s alright. … I would like to say, thank you, Sapnap, for the question, I very much appreciate it, but I’m not gonna be fielding responses about my family situation, thank you.” (Alivebur)

*Wilbur proceeds to step off the podium and cry*

Wilbur: “Fundy...!”

Besides that fundamenatally Fundys and Wilburs views about the presidency oppose eachother,

“Tommy, I’m- I’m- I’m- I don’t know what to do, Tommy, I’ve never not been President.”

Fundy sees Wilbur and L'manburg as two separate things that he has to unfiairly contest with and for

1. for Wilbur because of his fears, for a place among L’manburg members

2. Because He wants to prove himself to himself. he needs to know what Tommy said, isn’t true/he can thrive regardless without his fathers support he can still be a great member of L’manburg and even a president

Wilbur sees himself as inherently connected trough L’manburg with everyone to the point that he thinks that without his position he cant do anything for his loved ones/ he wont be usefull. he thinks of l’manburg as something he does FOR all of them including Fundy.

“My son… My son is tearing down the walls, in front of me! My son is tearing down the walls in front of me! The walls I built to keep him safe! I promised him this world, Tommy, I promised him this world.”

----

“Fundy was the closest thing I had to something I cared about in L��Manberg, when it all began. You know, when it started, the closest thing to anything I cared about was Fundy. Fundy was my, he was my, he was my boy! My rock!”

----

Ranboo: "I don't know if they actually needed me, but I was there.(about his work in the NLM cabinet)"

Wilbur:"I know that feel."

This why Fundy and Wilbur clash fundamentally here,

Wilbur: And you! The father of you!

Fundy: That's irrelevant. To-

Wilbur: No it's not irrelevant! It's very relevant to this!

Fundy: I don't- i don't think that's relevant to presidency

Part 4 Tommy WHY? (he is propably protective and and a tiny bit jealous )

----

Tommy: “Hey, you know about Fundy’s little rebellious stage he’s going through?”

----

Fundy: “You basically just lost my vote, and I feel like that’s your purpose!”

Tommy: “You’re in L’manburg! You vote for us already – you vote for your own father, don’t be an idiot!”

Fundy: “I feel like you’re trying to bring us apart, Tommy. I feel like your goals are not supportive towards L’manburg at the moment…”

----

Wilbur: Wait, look who’s coming, look who’s coming.

Tommy: Uh oh!

Wilbur: My son. My boy.

Tommy: Your ex-son.

Wilbur: Yeah. Well, I mean, he’s still my son in blood, but, he’s just…

Tommy: You should put him up.

Wilbur: What d’you mean, put him up? What, for adoption?

Tubbo: For adoption

---

Wilbur: He said, he said, “I am here for the Presidencialcy-” He just left.

Tommy: And then he- [sighs] I’m so sorry you have to deal with him.

[Tommy has jumped off the podium to join Tubbo in the audience.]

Tommy: Yeah, I’m going down to Tubbo, I just- I’m just letting you vent, Wilbur, I want you to have time to vent.

Wilbur: Yeah I just- I miss me son! I miss me son! I miss when he was my boy! Do you remember when he was my boy?

Tommy: Yeah, I’m not really good at handling… People who are emotional.

Besides Tommy genuinely wanting to get more votes during the dennoucemnt situation, his seconddary motive was well, he was protective over Wilbur, he noticed that what Fundy did during the debate hurt Wilbur, and kept acting bitter towards him from then on. ( “ I saw how asshole-y and bratty you were acting in the courtroom the other night.” / And then he- [sighs] I’m so sorry you have to deal with him.” )

the he a was tiny bit jealous point IS more up in the air but we can compare this to how Tommy acted towards Ranboo just after leaving prison, when he learned of the c!beeduo marriage.

Quotes from @/kateis-cakeis, @/findingjoynweirdstuff, @/ace-enderchest and my own transcripts, thank you guys!

#dream smp #dsmp #wilbur soot #fundy #tommyinnit #night's talk tag #dsmp analysis #night's meta tag

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omg-imatotalmess · 4 years

Text

Pet Names

Hey guys! I have had the headcanon that George would turn into a puddle when you call him something sweet, and my hypothetical question got lots of positive responses. So, here I am, yet again, offering a subby boy because that’s my specialty. Hope y’all enjoy!

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Requested: No

Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up kids!), sub!George, dom!reader, pet name kink, praise kink, oral sex (male receiving), fingering, riding, swearing

---

There was one thing about dating George Weasley that was an absolute fact: George loved pet names. Of course, you knew that to a degree. Since you started dating, it had become a rarity that he called you by your given name. You would have hated it from anyone else. Pet names typically weren't your thing, but you couldn't bring yourself to hate them when his voice dripped with sweetness. However, it never really occurred to you that he might want you to use them too. It wasn't until the two of you were lying on a couch in the Room of Requirement that you even thought about it.

Snuggled up to his chest, listening to his heartbeat as he dozed, you began to reflect on the whole pet name situation. He always had something sweet on the tip of his tongue while you only ever called him George. Georgie, if you were feeling particularly affectionate. You wondered if it bothered him that you didn't have a cute name for him. It wasn't like he'd ever asked, but sometimes he had trouble asking for things that he thought were embarrassing without joking about it. He always gave you delightfully cheesy nicknames when people were around that could easily be brushed off as joking. So maybe the embarrassment thing was the case. He just didn't exactly know how to ask.

"I can hear the wheels turning in your head, sweetheart," George said, breaking you from your musings.

"Sorry, go back to sleep," you said, nuzzling his neck affectionately.

"Wasn't sleeping before anyway. Even if I was, what goes on in that brain of yours has to be more interesting," he said. Smiling, you rolled completely on top of him so you could see him better. "Well, hello there."

"You caught me. I was thinking again," you said.

"Were you thinking about me?"

"Why, yes, in fact, I was."

"How embarrassing. Do you have a crush on me or something, love?" he asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you.

"You're an idiot," you said fondly. "Really, though, I wanted to ask you something." The playfulness drained from his face immediately as he adopted a more serious expression. He almost looked a little worried. Smiling, you leaned forward and pressed a kiss between his furrowed brows in an attempt to make the wrinkle go away.

"Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, I was just thinking about the nickname thing," you said. Your answer did nothing to relieve the expression.

"Don't you like them? I'll call you something else if you want." You shook your head.

"Actually, I was wondering if you wanted me to call you something else. Do you want cute names too?" you asked. George shifted under you, his expression morphing into one you'd become incredibly familiar with. A bright red flush bloomed over his cheeks as an almost concerningly wide grin pulled at his lips.

"Thought you'd never ask snookums!" he laughed nervously, "Here I thought you were about to let Ron and Hermione out cute us. Personally, I think you should go for something like 'the sweetest love of my life and future husband.' The whole phrase. Just to prove them that we're the cuter pair." As he rambled, you found yourself becoming more and more amused by his expert avoidance of your eyes.

"George?" Your voice was gentle but prodding, cutting his nervous speech short. Blinking, he offered another nervous laugh.

"Yes, darling, sweetness, light of my life?" he asked.

"Breathe," you said.

"Right. I'll live a lot longer if I do that," he said, pulling in a steadying breath. Smiling, you ran your fingers through his hair in an attempt to soothe him further.

"Now, as much as I truly do like 'the sweetest love of my life and future husband,' it's kinda a mouthful," you said.

"That's what she said," George rattled off automatically.

"Jesus, I didn't mean to fluster you so bad. I'm sorry, sunshine," you said, testing the name.

And he whimpered. It was just a soft, breathy little sound. One you would have missed if you hadn't quite literally been laying on his chest. You weren't even sure if he was aware he'd done it, but, Christ, were you happy he did. That one little sound told you so much. Not to mention the way his fingers squeezed needily at your hips and that his eyes seemed to lose focus. Suddenly, you felt like you were taking up his entire field of vision. Nothing beyond you existed. Not to him. All that for just one simple word.

"You like, sunshine?" you asked.

"I dunno if it has the same ring as, uh, as whatever it was that I said, but it's alright," he said, squirming under your penetrating gaze.

"Just alright? You want something else?" you teased.

"If you-if you think you can c-come up with something better," he stuttered.

"Okay, baby boy," you purred.

If you thought sunshine had done it for him, baby boy blew that out of the water. A shiver tore through his body right down to his fingertips as his mouth dropped open into a quiet moan. Despite the low volume, the sound echoed in your ears. It dripped with pure need. As though he couldn't go another second without you touching him. The cherry flush that bloomed high in the apples of his cheeks swooped over the tips of his ears. He was beautiful. Enticing. And you were only human. Leaning forward, you traced your tongue up the shell of his ear, biting it lightly.

"That better?" you muttered against his ear. Pulling back, you watched as George opened and closed his mouth, fishing for anything to say in response. He wasn't having much luck, just spitting out collections of sounds that didn't quite resemble words.

"Come on, baby boy, use your words," you said, cupping his cheek and rolling your thumb over his bottom lip.

"Yes." His voice cracked on the word.

"Good boy," you said, smirking like a well-fed cat, "Now, how 'bout we get you out of those clothes. I wanna see all of my pretty baby."

"Please," he breathed. Carefully, you repositioned yourself, so you had full access to his clothing. You only managed a couple of buttons before his much larger hand curled around one of yours. Before you could ask him what was wrong, he brushed a tender kiss over your knuckles.

"I love you, (Y/N)," he said. Smiling, you pulled his hand to your mouth and returned the gesture.

"I love you too," you replied.

With your hand back, you made quick work of his shirt. You pushed it open and took in the lightly freckled expanse of his chest. His skin was a swirl of cinnamon-colored constellations. You trailed your fingers across them, admiring the trail of goosebumps the left behind. George was lovely. Devastatingly so. Bringing your head down, you followed the same path your fingers had taken, stopping briefly to lap at his nipples. He whined softly at the attention, tangling his hands in your hair.

"You're so beautiful," you said.

You kissed up his chest to his lips, and he tilted his head to meet you. His lips pressed hungrily to your own. The faint taste of honey teased your senses as you dipped your tongue into his mouth. You loved that he always managed to taste sweet. Lightly, you ran your tongue over his own, savoring that elusive sweetness for as long as you could. Slipping your hand down to rub him through his pants, you were surprised to find him fully hard. Even though you'd barely touched him, he was straining against his zipper.

"(Y/N)," he whimpered against your mouth.

"I bet that's uncomfortable. You want me to take care of that, baby boy?" you asked, popping the button.

"Please. Please take care of it," he begged, bucking his hips into your hand. Without responding, you pushed his pants down to his thighs while trailing burning kisses down his torso. You pressed a kiss to each of his hip bones before wrapping your hand around his cock. Giving it a few long, slow strokes that had him bucking into your hand, you looked up at him.

"Tell me what you want," you said.

"Your mouth. Please, (Y/N)," he said quickly.

"Anything for my sweet baby boy," you said.

Slowly, you dragged your tongue from the base to the tip, paying special attention to the ridge of the head. A low moan sounded above you. You took a moment to appreciate the sound before sinking his cock into your mouth. His hips bucked, and you gagged slightly. Breathing softly through your nose, you gripped his hips tightly to keep him from doing it again. You bobbed your head slowly, running your tongue along the vein on the underside of his cock.

"C'mon, don't tease," George begged, straining against your restrictive grip.

You didn't say anything but picked up the pace slightly. Removing on hand from its place on his hip, you fondled his balls and teased lightly at his perineum. His hips flexed wildly against your hand. It only took swallowing around him once before he was calling out warnings and groaning loudly into the open air. You pulled off before he could cum, ignoring the disappointed whine.

"Wanna come. Please, (Y/N), I wanna come so bad," he cried, bucking into the air looking for friction.

"I know, baby boy," you said, shimmying out of your pants. "I wanna be ridding you when you do, but you gotta prep me first. Can you do that for me? Can you finger me until I'm nice and open for you, baby boy?"

"Uh-huh," he said, fumbling for the lube that appeared on the table. Turning, you presented yourself to him, so he had better access. Gentle as always, he sunk a long finger into you.

"That's my good boy," you sighed. As he fingered you open, he pressed open-mouthed kisses to the backs of your thighs. You wrapped your hand around his cock again, stroking it in time with the thrusts of his fingers. Then he curled them a bit.

"There! That's it," you mewled, rocking back against him.

"More!" He obediently added another finger.

"Am I making you feel good?" he asked, his voice hoarse. Whether it was from moaning or just from the idea that he was bringing you pleasure, you couldn't tell.

"So good," you said. You felt his cock twitch in your hand, and he shivered.

"Close," he whimpered.

"Let me sit on your pretty cock, baby boy," you purred. Almost reluctantly, he slipped his fingers from you, and you positioned yourself over him. Neither of you was interested in waiting long. Once he was fully seated inside you, you could already feel him shivering with the effort not to cum.

"Move?" It came out as a question. Both asking your permission and begging you to ride him until he was shaking with overstimulation.

Picking up your hips, you dropped them back slowly. You savored the slight burn of the stretch. Hands quickly found your hips. And then you were moving. You weren't sure if he'd thrust up into you or if you'd started this pace on your own. You didn't care. It didn't matter when he was hitting that spot inside you just right.

"So good, baby boy! Right there!" you cried.

"So tight. So good. Wanna cum! Please can I cum?" he begged, digging his fingers into your hips in a way that would definitely bruise.

Pulling his chin up with two fingers, you kissed him like your life depended on it. Tongues tangled sloppily, your teeth clicked together, and the angle was a little off considering the constant motion. Still, you couldn't bring yourself to care with him, whining obscenities into your mouth. Begging to cum so prettily. If you were a little meaner or not so desperate yourself, you'd draw it out a little longer. Maybe next time. Separating with a wet pop, you smoothed your thumb across his spit-slick, swollen lips.

"Are you gonna be a good boy and cum for me?" you asked. He nodded, hooded eyes staring at you pleadingly.

"Close, close, please," he whined, dropping his head forward to your chest.

"Cum, baby boy." With a long, low moan, he was gone. He pounded sloppily into you with uncontrolled thrusts, wrapping his arms around your back to pull you impossibly closer. Between that and the sight of his utterly wrecked expression, you went tumbling over the edge after him. Your own shout of pleasure shook the room. Your thighs trembled with the force of it. For a second, you swore, you stopped breathing.

"Holy fuck," you panted as you came down from your high.

"Felt pretty holy to me," George said, leaning heavily against the arm of the couch.

"When I find my brain, I'll say something witty," you said. You let him slip out of you, opting to ignore the mess running down your thighs in favor of laying against his chest again.

"Anytime you wanna do that again, I'd happily oblige, love," he said.

"You just fucked my brain across the room while I called you baby boy, and you're already thinking about round two?" you snorted.

"Should I not be?" Well, round two did sound pretty good.

"Give me a hot minute, and I'll get right on that, sunshine." You didn't miss the love in his dark eyes as he gazed down at you with a crooked grin. Or the way his cock twitched in interest.

#its 3:30 am #but here it is #george weasley x reader #george weasley x reader smut #george weasley #george weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #george weasley smut #george x reader #george x reader smut #harry potter smut #harry potter imagine #dom!reader #sub!george #smut #harry potter #hp

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atlafan · 4 years

Text

And They Were Roommates - One Shot

a/n: I’ve had this idea for a long time, and I’m glad it’s finally come together. I love friends to lovers fics, they make my stomach twist in the best possible way, so I hope you all enjoy these two! Feedback and reblogs are always helpful. (not proofread)

Warnings: two idiots refusing to just get together until they do, SMUT, mentions of Only Fans (which I truthfully know nothing about, but I wanted to make things saucy)

Words: 11.3K

“We just need to be quiet in case my roommate’s home.” You say to your date, Jeremy, as you key into your flat. He nods with a grin as you enter.

“Hey, lovie, how was the-“ Harry smirks when he sees you come in with your date. “I see it went well, never mind.”

You roll your eyes at him. He was sitting on the couch in some sweat pants, and that was it, watching some romantic comedy.

“Harry, this is Jeremy, Jeremy this is my roommate Harry.”

“I’m her best friend too, but I can see she clearly hasn’t brought me up all night. M’a little offended, pet.”

“Okay, well, I’ll try to be more courteous.” You shake your head at him, and tug Jeremy along to your bedroom. “Sorry about him. He usually goes out on Friday nights, but lately he’s been staying in more.”

“You…you live with that guy?”

“Sure.” You shrug and then wrap your arms around his neck. “We’ve been friends for years, and we’re in the same grad program, so it just made sense to split a flat.”

“Listen…uh, I was excited that you invited me up, but I can’t fuck you with that guy sitting out there.”

“What?” You frown and step back. “Why not?”

“Because I’ll just think you’re thinking of him the whole time. He’s…like…perfect! I can’t compete with that.”

“Jeremy, you’re being silly, just clear your head, we can-“

“Sorry, Y/N.”

Jeremy opens your door and leaves you standing in your room. You were in shock. Jeremy walks quickly back out into the main area, and sees Harry still sitting and watching his movie.

“Oi, that was quick, mate. Hope you left my girl satisfied.” Harry grins at a disgruntled Jeremy, and he leaves.

“You know it’s comments like that…” You sniffle as you stand there in your pretty dress and heels. “That make guys just up and leave.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He took one look at you sitting there like that and ran off!”

“So, I can’t even sit in the comfort of my own living room without some douche feeling emasculated? Are you sure you want someone like that fucking you, Y/N?”

“I just wanted to hook up! Christ, now I have to go take care of it myself.” You groan.

“Well, when you’re done, come join me. We can watch My Best Friend’s Wedding.” He leans forward and smiles. “You look really nice tonight, I’m sorry he was an idiot.”

“Thanks.” You wipe your finger under your nose. “Would you make some popcorn or something?”

“On it.”

Alright, some explanation is probably needed here. See, you and Harry met your sophomore year of uni, no, not drunk at some party, in class, actually. You both were education majors, so you ended up having a lot of classes together once you really dove into your major courses. You got paired up on a project together, and there was no separation between the two of you after that.

Normally, Harry wouldn’t have been the type of guy you’d be friends with. To be honest, he dressed like a douchebag when you first met him. You wondered why he’d want to be a teacher. He had floppy curls, wore a snapback with every outfit, and you didn’t think he owned a pair of jeans that didn’t have any rips in them. Although, you did enjoy his Chelsea boots, his sweaters, and his nail polish and rings.

You were innocent, and sort of preppy while he was loud mouthed and scruffy. Your friend groups never merged, but your best friend knew about your friendship with Harry. She’d constantly poke fun and say you had a crush on him. You didn’t. Harry was hot as fuck, anyone with eyes could see that, but you weren’t into him in that way. That was one of the reasons he liked hanging out with you so much. Most girls that tried to be his friend were just trying to fuck, and that could be fun, but sometimes he genuinely wanted to meet up for coffee and have a conversation without it leading to screwing on an extra-long twin bed.

Harry’s friends knew you well. As the years went on, you’d often be the one he’d bring back to his place drunk. You started off by sleeping on the floor, and then one night you realized you both adults and could sleep in the same bed. His friends would give him an equally tough time about you. Sometimes you’d come over and wait in his room for him while he was out with another girl. To some that may have been weird, but nothing was better than drunk platonic cuddles.

There was one night, your senior year, you had woken up with him spooning you. In all the nights spent together, you two never fell asleep or woke up like that. You didn’t shift when you felt his morning wood poking you. His arm was draped loosely over you. You almost wanted to see if he’d make a move, so you pretended to stay asleep a little longer. His hand had slid to your hip and squeezed it, but that was the extent of the interaction. He rolled onto his back, and you did the same. You looked up at him and started giggling.

“It’s not funny.” He groaned, putting his forearm over his eyes.

“Didn’t know I did it for you, Har.” You poked the dimple forming on his face as he smiled.

“Don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart, happens to every guy in the morning.” He peered down at you and you rolled your eyes.

You had never spoken about it afterwards. You didn’t want to embarrass him. When you both talked about grad school, and got into the same university, he asked you to be his flat-mate.

“You don’t wanna live with Niall and Louis anymore?”

“They’re getting real jobs, they won’t wanna listen to me complain about school. I’ve found a great two bedroom place. I think it could be fun for us. Dontcha wanna live with me, baby?” He pouted at you and you nudged his shoulder and laughed.

“Christ, I hate it when you start getting all beggy. Alright, we can live together.”

He took you in his arms and hugged you. You were both extremely excited. Sometimes it seemed like you and Harry knew everything about each other, but that was not the case. After you moved in and got settled, it was time you revealed something to him. You called him into your bedroom to talk.

“Is everything okay? You’re not having doubts, are you?”

“No! Not at all, I’m glad we’re doing this. I feel safe with you here, and I’m glad we still have classes together. I…I just need to tell you something. Um, I don’t know what you do to...like, when you’re alone, I don’t know what you use, but I know things can pop up geographically, so I just wanted to warn you.” You bit your bottom lip, and turned your laptop around to show him your Only Fans page. His eyes widened, and then he shook his head.

“This is a joke, right? You made a fake website.”

“It’s not fake…” You muttered. “I don’t do lives, I don’t get naked, and I don’t show my face.”

“Then what do you do?”

“I was a dance minor, as you may recall.” He nodded yes at you. “So I make little strip tease videos and blur my face. Sometimes I take lingerie photos too. It’s a wonder what people will pay for.”

“How’d you get into this?” There was no judgement in his voice, he was genuinely curious.

“It started as a joke between Jenna and I, but then we started making money, and it’s enough that I can pay all my bills and live comfortably. I’ve already paid off one of my student loans thanks to this. I don’t even know if you use Only Fans, but I knew you’d probably recognize me or something if you stumbled across it so…I just wanted to warn you.”

“You know…the coffee shop I work at is hiring if you don’t feel like doing this kind of stuff.” He smirked.

“I actually don’t mind it. I essentially work for myself.”

“So you don’t sit in front of your camera and get yourself off with little bunny ears on?”

“No.” You laughed. “Just videos of me dancing in some intricate lighting, and saucy photos.”

“Can I see?”

“What?!”

“Not one of the videos, show me some pictures.”

“Harry…”

“Come on. I’ve seen you dressed to the nines before, but I’m having trouble believing you would take any provocative photos.”

“Fine.” You clicked through the various photos, and find a mostly decent one. “Here, you can look at this one.”

His eyes widen again as he scans it over. You could only see your face from the lips down. You had a lollypop pressed to them, and some of the juice from it was dripping down your chin. You were laying on your bed in a pink lace bodysuit, and if he squinted he could probably see your nipples, but he chose against it. Your legs were up against the headboard, crossed at the ankle.

“Well?” You asked.

“It’s, uh, it’s very tasteful.” He cleared his throat. “Thanks for telling me…I…I mean I definitely look at porn sometimes, so…uh…definitely wouldn’t have wanted to accidentally wanked it to you.”

“I doubt you would have even stayed on my page for long. You probably like to watch the really freaky shit.” You grinned and closed your laptop.

“I don’t know, there’s something sort of sexy about someone looking so innocent.”

“And that’s exactly what my viewers seem to say in the comments.”

Harry never brought up your page after that. You didn’t make him promise not to go searching for it, you just figured he wouldn’t. With all that aside, your living situation was working out perfectly. Sometimes Harry would bring home the day old muffins or bagels from the coffee shop, and you both had all the free coffee you could drink.

When you first moved in he was like his old self. He went out on dates almost every weekend. Normally he wouldn’t bring someone back, but once in a while he would. You never minded, you’d bring people back too, but you started to notice a pattern. Most guys either would have a tough time fucking you if he was home, or would end up leaving the way Jeremy did. You weren’t sure why they felt so threatened by Harry.

You supposed Jeremy could have been taken aback by seeing Harry shirtless. He was muscular, but not quite skinny. Buff in a way. He could hurt someone if he really wanted to. Once you’ve changed into some comfy pj’s, you plop down on the couch with Harry, and dive into the bowl of popcorn he made so you could watch your movie.

“So, I take it you’re not gonna take care of things yourself?”

“I’m too annoyed now.” You sigh. “It’s fine. I’ll try my luck with some random when we go out tomorrow night.”

“Good idea.” He throws his arm around you, and you both settle as the opening credits start.

Harry had to be up early for his shift at the coffee shop. After getting some schoolwork done, you took the opportunity to get some other work done. You had to be dressed for the club tonight anyways, so you got dolled up, and took some new photos for your page. You always got comments about your lips, so you’d use blow-pops to kiss against, or to rub against. You got some really great shots in, and got dressed in your regular clothes before Harry got home.

“Got your evening makeup on already? It’ll be hours before we leave, love.” He says as he runs a hand through his hair.

“You’re not the only one that worked today.” You wink at him and he rolls his eyes.

“You know, if I didn’t have all my tattoos I could be doing the same thing you’re doing.”

“Plenty of people with tattoos have pages.”

“The last thing I need is to start working at some school, and have a parent recognize me for the wrong reasons.”

“True.” You nod and go into the fridge. “I’m gonna make some stirfry, are you hungry?”

“I could eat.” He shrugs. “I’m gonna go shower.”

“Alright.”

You didn’t necessarily mind that you’re dating life was a little tricky. You had all the domesticity you could need with Harry, however, you were certainly hoping to meet someone tonight at the club. You just wanted to have a meaningless hookup.

After dinner, and having a couple of drinks at home, you and Harry meet up with Niall and Louis at the club. Louis and Harry were laughing over something, so you decide to pay Niall a little attention. You always thought he was cute and funny. He was always nice to you too, as was Louis.

“How are things with your classes?” He asks. “Sort of wish I was doing the grad school thing.”

“Oh, but your job is so cool! Data analysis is riveting.” You giggle against the rim of your drink and he shakes his head. “Classes are good. I’m more so just excited to start teaching, but I have a while for that yet. Practicum last year was such a tease.”

“I bet you’d be a fun teacher, you’d certainly have no problem keeping my attention.” He slings one of his arms around the back of the booth you were sitting in and he inches closer. You smile at him and take a sip of your drink.

“Yeah? Why’s that?” You put your hand on his shoulder and twirl the material of his shirt around your finger.

“Your voice for one thing. It’s smooth, soothing. Your smile is sweet, so that helps too.”

You blush a little from his compliments, and finish your drink.

“Need another, babe?” Harry asks, breaking you and Niall from your little chat.

“I can get it.” Niall says. “Vodka tonic?”

“Please.” You smile and watch him go up to the bar. Louis and Harry look at you. “What?”

“Are you trying to fuck Niall?” Louis asks.

“Of course she’s no-“ Harry says, but he’s cut off by you.

“So what if I am?” She scoffs. “It’s safer than trying to get some guy I don’t know, right?”

“If that’s the case, why not just fuck Harry?” Louis smirks.

Harry death glares Louis as your face scrunches.

“It’s a little cliché, isn’t it?” You say. “Fucking your roommate and best friend? I’ll pass. That’s a load of drama we don’t need.”

“So, what you’re saying is, if Harry wasn’t your roommate or your best friend, you’d fuck him?”

“Hmm…” You tap your chin playfully and look Harry up and down. Before you can answer, Niall returns with your drink, and another round for the guys. “Thank you.” You say to him, and he sits down closely next to you.

“You wouldn’t wanna dance, would you?” Niall asks you.

“I’d love to!”

You both get up and make your way over to the dancefloor. Harry sulks while he plays with the straw in his drink.

“What are you all mopey for, huh?” Louis asks him.

“I don’t really like the idea of them hooking up. Could change the dynamic of things for all of us.”

“Instead of worrying about that, why don’t we try to go meet some ladies of our own, hm?” Louis smiles at Harry, and Harry nods in agreement.

You were having a lot of fun dancing with Niall, and his laugh was infectious tonight. You told him you needed to use the ladies room, and when you came back he was acting like a completely different person.

“Did I do something wrong?” You ask him over the blaring music.

“No! I just…” He looks over at Harry and Louis and then back to you. “We really shouldn’t be messing around like this.”

“We were just dancing.”

“But it was going to lead to something more, no?”

“Did you want it to?”

“Well, yeah, but you’re my friend, and…I wouldn’t want to make anything weird between us.”

“So…you don’t wanna go into the single stall bathroom and have me suck you off?” You bat your lashes at him and his eyes widen.

“Shit.” He says under his breath. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“Alright.”

He wraps his hand around your wrist, and leads you through the crowd of people. You both go into the bathroom without a single thought and lock the door. You could hear the music faintly as you looked at each other.

“You seemed pretty sure of things before.” You say to him.

“I…I wigged out for a second. I really want this.”

You smile and step forward, pressing your lips to his. His hands go to your hips, and he squeezes you. He tasted like the tequila he had been drinking, and you smile against him. You kiss across his jaw, and to his neck while your hands work to undo his belt.

“You’re okay with this?” You ask him.

“Yeah, go for it. Would it be easier if I sat up on the counter?”

“No, I don’t mind getting on my knees, thanks.” You smirk at him and sink down, tugging his pants and boxers down just enough for his hard dick to spring out. You look up at him, impressed.

“Don’t look so surprised.”

“Sorry.” You chuckle. “Good for you, though, honestly.”

You kiss his tip and he jerks slightly towards you. You wrap your lips around him, and suck on him. His hands move your hair back, and you close your eyes as you work him over. You pump what you can’t fit, or what you don’t feel like fitting, and you hear him panting. This is all you wanted, you just wanted to make someone feel good.

“Y/N, I’m gonna come.” He warns you, and you give his thigh a squeeze to let him know it’s okay.

He comes into your mouth, and you swallow it to not make a mess. He helps you stand up, and then you help him zip his pants. After rinsing your mouth out he grabs you and kisses you. Your eyes flutter closed as he sucks on your bottom lip.

“Would you finger me?” You ask him just above a whisper against your lips.

“I’ll do anything you want.”

Louis was off making out with some girl while Harry was at the bar, brooding. You and Niall come back from the bathroom with flushed cheeks. Harry looks at you, and then looks at Niall. Niall just rubs the back of his neck and looks away.

“Y/N, are you ready to go home?” Harry asks her.

“Um…I was hoping to have another drink, but if you wanna leave we can.”

“I’d like to, yeah.”

You both say goodnight to Niall, and head out. He doesn’t say anything to in the back of the cab, and he’s quiet as you both go inside your flat. He fills two glasses of water and hands one to you.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him.

“Why’d you have to fuck my friend? Of all the guys in there, it had to be Niall?”

“I’m going to bed, I’m not having this conversation with you.” You start to walk away from him.

“So if I took Rachel into the bathroom at club and fucked her, you’d be fine with it?”

“Rachel’s a lesbian, so that’s a moot point.”

“You know what I’m trying to say.”

“I wouldn’t care, Harry. Also, you make it seem like Niall isn’t my friend, when he is. And not that it’s any of your business, but we didn’t do more than diddle each other. I sucked him off, and then I let him finger me, that was it.”

“You know, if you just needed to get off, I’m sure your own hand would have sufficed.” He huffs.

“Sometimes you just wanna feel someone else’s hand.” You say quietly.

“So Niall’s a good enough friend to diddle you, but I’m not? I’m extremely offended.”

“Harry…I don’t have to see Niall every day. It would get weird between us, and you know it.”

“I’m just saying, if you needed some help-“

“Don’t finish that sentence. You’re drunk, you don’t know what you’re talking about. Go put yourself to bed, I’m gonna go wash up.”

“I’m assuming no cuddles tonight then?”

“You’ve assumed correctly, goodnight.”

Harry emerges from his room around ten the next morning, thankful he had the day off from work. You were sitting on the couch in the living room, coffee cup in hand while reading one of your textbooks. He sees you’ve made coffee, and he pours himself a cup.

“Morning.” He yawns as he sits next to you.

“Morning.” You say without looking at him.

“Are you mad at me for some reason? Usually you come to my room after we’ve been out like that, and you didn’t…”

“Harry, do you seriously not remember what happened last night?” He shakes his head no at you. “It just wasn’t a good night for drunk cuddles, okay? Can we leave it at that?”

“Alright.” He shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee. “Do you feel like going to the campus library with me in a bit? I’ve got a paper to work on, and a change of scenery would do be some good.”

“Sure! I have some mock lesson plans I need to work on so that sounds good.”

He watches you get up and go into your room so you can get ready. He sighs to himself, feeling bad for lying to you. He takes his phone out to text Niall.

Harry: I’m sorry about last night…I know I can’t control what you do and who you do it with, and clearly what I said to you didn’t matter anyways

Niall: I was going to listen…but she really wanted it, mate, I’m sorry. It wasn’t anything serious, just two friends helping each other out, alright?

Harry: alright

Niall: are you sure you don’t have feelings for her?

Harry: I just don’t think it’s smart for our little circle to comingle like that, that’s all

Niall: whatever you say

“Harry, go get dressed, the sooner we go, the sooner we can come back and watch a movie.”

“Right.” He says with a smile and gets up.

Harry fucked up one night. He didn’t feel like trolling on Tinder for a lay, so he found himself on Only Fans. There were a couple of pages he was subscribed to, but they just weren’t doing it for him tonight. He wanted something a little different, so, against his better judgement…he went to your page. Sometimes he’d check it out just to make sure no one was leaving you any sick comments, he never really went there to ogle you. But because you didn’t use your face, he could use his imagination a little bit. He puts his headphones in, and clicks on one of your free videos.

He smiles when he hears one of your favorite songs playing in the background. You were a skilled video editor, hoping to teach that media arts. The video fades in, and there you are, completely clothed. You start dancing, it wasn’t over sexy, but you had a way about taking your clothes off. You were doing a chair dance, one of your specialties. The video ends with you just about to take your shirt off, and then it fades out with a smirk on your lips.

“Oh, she’s good.” He says to himself.

Leaving people wanting more was certainly key on this site. He sighs, and clicks through a couple of the other free things you had on your page, and then eventually he pays to subscribe. You’d never know it was him, it’s not like he used his real name. He was more curious than anything to see what else you could have on there. He clicks through some of your photos. His jaw drops when he sees you licking a lollypop.

There’s a knock on his door, and he nearly throws his laptop across the room. He exits out of his all his tabs and closes his laptop.

“Come in!”

“Hey.” You say, leaning against the door frame.

“What’s up?” He was sweating. Had you seen that you had a new subscriber? Had you somehow figured out it was him?

“I have cramps, can I come lay with you?”

“Oh.” He sighs with relief. “Sure.” He makes some room for you on his bed, and climb on, laying on your stomach.

“What were you up to?”

“Looking for some porn to watch, to be honest with you.” He chuckles as he rubs at your lower back.

“Oh, Christ.” You laugh and nudge his leg. “You didn’t need to let me in.”

“It’s alright, you’re more interesting anyways. How was your day? Feel like I barely saw you?”

“It was good. I had a lot of work to get done so I was at the library, and then I met up with Rach for dinner.”

“How’s she?”

“Good. She’s finally starting to make some friends at work.” You sit up and move to sit on your bum. “I have a cheeky idea. Let’s find a really bad porn to watch.”

“Together?”

“Yeah! We could find a cheesy one from the seventies or something, stuff our faces with ice cream and have a good laugh.”

“I’ll go get the ice cream, you find one to watch.” He slides his laptop over to you, and gets up.

You knew his password, so you enter it in. You open up his browser, and go on incognito mode. He comes back shortly with a gallon of ice cream and two spoons.

“Okay, I think I’ve found one. Major bush on this woman, and the guy.”

“Incredible.” He laughs and hands you a spoon. “Let’s see how they did it back then. Who knows, I may learn something new.”

“God, porn back then was only made for men.” You scoff, and take a bite of the ice cream. “I mean, these women just lay there and take it! What’s the fun in that?”

“I know, I like it when the girl’s a little more involved instead of just starfishing.”

“I’m all for a guy being on top, but you really shouldn’t just lay there. There’s still plenty a girl can do. Although, I have to say, when I’m not super into it, I just lay there until the guy comes.”

“Why not just speak up and tell him to do something else?”

“At that point there’s no coming back. Besides, you know how fragile the male ego is.” You smirk at him.

“True…although, I think it’s really hot when a girl is vocal in the bedroom. If she’s telling me how she likes it then I know she knows her body, and that image alone is so satisfying.” He takes a slow bite of the ice cream to watch your face.

“It doesn’t get frustrating?”

“Not for me.” He shrugs. “I mean, I’m usually able to figure it out without much help, but I always make sure to ask if it feels good.”

“What a gentleman.” You poke his cheek and he swats it away. “I like it when a guy is vocal too, like, isn’t afraid to moan, that kind of stuff.”

“I never understood why guys are so afraid to moan. If it feels good, let it out.”

“Exactly!”

You both completely forgot you had an old porn on in the background until you heard an extremely fake moan rip through the speaker. You both laugh hysterically.

“This must’ve been before boobs jobs got popular, those are as natural as they get.” Harry laughs.

“Jesus, I know, look at those things bounce!” You laugh, and then look down at yourself, frowning.

“What?”

“Well….I have, like, bowling ball tits, like when you go candle pin bowling, is it attractive to watch big, heavy boobs like that?” You point to the screen. “And mine are kinda saggy, and-“

“Please, stop talking about yourself like that. Don’t you have, like, thousands of subscribers on your Only Fans? People clearly like the way you look.”

“They’ve never seen me naked.”

“Still.” He looks down at your covered chest. You were wearing a sweatshirt. “You…not to sound creepy, but you’ve got a great set on you. I’ve always thought so.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I just never said anything because I didn’t want you knowing I was checking you out.” He smirks and throw one of his pillows at him. “It’s hard not to with some of the shirts or dresses you wear to the clubs sometimes. You really know how to make yourself look sexy.”

“Oh, and I’m not sexy right now?” You chuckle.

“No, you are, it’s just a different kind of sexy. Like, you more cute than anything else, but still totally fuckable.”

“Gee, thanks.” You roll your eyes and take another bite of ice cream. “Mm, we picked a really good flavor this week.”

“I know, way better than last week.”

“I’ve been having fun trying new flavors with you. Gives me something fun to look forward to. Is this twenty-two? Getting excited over ice cream flavors?”

“Pretty soon we’ll be excited over buying a new vacuum, or a dishrack.”

“Oh, I love a good dishrack.”

Harry bursts out laughing, and so do you. You ended up falling asleep with him in his bed, your head cradled to his chest. Harry was always the perfect cure to cramps.

“Oh…hello.” A girl says to you some random Wednesday morning. You were stood in your kitchen making some toast before class.

“Um, hi?”

“Oh, god, he has a girlfriend doesn’t he.” She whines.

“No! I’m Harry’s roommate. Did you spend the night, would you like some coffee?”

“Got scared for a second there. No, I’m all set thank you. Um, have a good one!” She says and leaves the flat.

“Is…is she gone?” Harry whispers from around the corner and you chuckle.

“Yes, Harry.”

“Thank god.” He sighs.

“Since when do you bring someone home with you on a Tuesday night?”

“I was working late at the coffee shop, and she was there doing homework, and one thing lead to another.” He pours himself a cup of coffee.

“And it was no good?”

“Terrible, I didn’t even ask for her number.”

“What made it so terrible?”

“She just…she wasn’t…doing it for me, I don’t know. There was no connection, Y/N.” He sighs.

“Maybe it’s time you start actually dating and work your way up to fucking someone.”

“That would involve me having to get to know someone, and I can’t stand people.” He pouts.

“Good thing you’re going to be a fucking teacher then.” You laugh. “Hurry up and get ready, or we’ll be late for class.”

Harry gets ready, and you both walk to campus for your K-12 instructors class. You were thankful to have class with Harry, you weren’t sure what you’d do without him. Just having someone to make eye contact with when someone said something stupid, or if the professor did something cringey.

“Hey, Y/N?”

“Hey, Daniel.” You smile up at him. “What’s up?”

“Well, I…I was wondering if you had plans this weekend? On Saturday?”

You look at Harry and he shakes his head no.

“Not that I can think of, no.”

“Great, uh, would you like to go to the movies? We could grab dinner as well.”

“I…I’d like that a lot, um, here.” You take your phone out to hand it to him. He puts his number and texts himself.

“Cool, I’ll text you later.” He moves to go sit down a few rows behind you. You look at Harry with a grin on your face.

“See, dating, it’s sorta fun.” You say to him.

“Wining and dining someone sure is a lot of effort. Don’t think I quite have it in me, but you have yourself a good time, pet.”

You have a wonderful time with Daniel on Saturday night. He took you to Panera, and then to see a comedy. He let you pick the movie, and you were delighted. You shared a lot of laughs, and made out with him in his car before he took you home.

“I ha d a lot of fun.” You tell him.

“Me too.” He says. “Maybe we could do this again sometime?”

“I’d like that.” You smile and get out of his car. When you get up to your flat, you can’t wait to dish with Harry about how your night went.

“Hola chica.” He says to you from the kitchen.

“Late night tacvos, my favorite. Save me any?”

“Course, grab what you like. How was your date?”

“Really good. Daniel’s super sweet.”

“Not sweet enough to bring home?”

“I’m taking my own advice and giving dating a try. He asked me if I wanted to go out again sometime and I said yes. We did kiss for a bit, it was nice.” You shove a taco into your mouth. “Mm, you make the best tacos, Har.”

“Don’t I know it? So…so you kissed, but nothing else?” He mutters as he finishes his food.

“Nope.”

“Did you want to?”

“I don’t know.” You shrug.

“Then you shouldn’t go out with him again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“If you didn’t wanna rip his clothes off, it’s probably not gonna last.”

“Lust doesn’t make a relationship.”

“No, but it should be passionate. Even if you’re respectful and wait, you should still wanna fuck the person.”

“Sometimes you have to work up to feeling that way.”

“Nah, when you know, you know.” He winks at you and goes over to the couch. “I was about to watch-“

“Oh my god!” You screech.

“What?!”

“Did you not check the mail earlier?! Kevin and Ashley are getting married! This is their save the date. Holy fucking shit.”

“Makes sense, they’ve been together forever.”

“Well, we have to go, Harry.”

“Okay.” He hears you suck your teeth. “What?”

“No plus ones…”

“So? We’d just go together anyways. We can save money on a hotel room too.”

“That’s true. I just…wow, I couldn’t imagine getting married right now.”

“Like I said, when you know, you know.” He plops down onto the couch and turns the TV on. You sit down next to him. You look at him for a moment, and then turn your attention to the TV. Nothing else really needed to be said.

You hated it when Harry was right. Daniel was nice, but there was no spark. You went on four dates with him, and you didn’t want to fuck him.

“Hey, I was looking on the hotel website for the wedding, the room with the king sized bed is actually cheaper than the one with the two queens. That work for you?” He asks you as he comes into your room holding his laptop.

“Yeah, that’s fine. Just tell me how much I need to Venmo you.”

“Will do, it’s not terribly expensive. I’ll only need a hundred bucks from you.”

“Perfect.” You take your phone and send him the money. “Thanks for booking it.”

“No problemo.” He comes in and sits on your bed. “What are you up to, babydoll?”

“Just putting some mock lesson plans together.” You sigh. “Could definitely use a break, though.” He lays down on your bed and pats the spot next to him. You roll your eyes at him, and he pouts. “Ugh, fine.” You get onto your bed with him. “Happy now?”

“Very…although….”

“What?”

“Well, you get to lay your head on my chest all the time. I’d like to do the same. Or…okay, there’s this trend on Tik Tok…could I lay down between your legs?”

“Um…like…with your head in my crotch?” You laugh. “I can put a pillow there and you can lay down if you like.”

“Okay.” You grab a pillow for him, and he gets on his back, resting his head, and looking up at you. You run your fingers through his curls and his eyes flutter closed. “I love it when you play with my hair.” He sighs.

“I knew you were coming in here with a motive. Booking the hotel room to get something out of it, huh?”

“Your nails just feel so good, and you know it.”

“Well, you better return the favor. I like getting my hair played with too.”

“I’ll touch you wherever you want me to, alright?” He yawns. “Just don’t stop for a bit.”

You brush off his crude comment, and does as he says. You liked playing with Harry’s hair, so it wasn’t a burden, and you liked when you two would just get cozy together like this. There weren’t many people you felt this comfortable with.

“Y/N, we need to get going down to the ceremony.” Harry calls from the bedroom of the hotel.

“Well, I wouldn’t be running behind if someone hadn’t taken twice as long as they said they would in the bathroom!”

“Can’t rush perfection, darling.” He smirks to himself.

“Mhm, so what does that make me?” You ask as you walk out of the bathroom. His mouth nearly falls open.

You had gotten your hair into a loose, low bun, with plenty of hair in the front to frame your face. You had a strapless purple dress on with black tights and black heels.

“Um…stunning, you look stunning.”

“Thanks.” You smile and grab your clutch. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” You wink at him and head out.

You both were blubbering messes during the ceremony. Rachel made sure to make fun you both for it. Once the cocktail hour hit, you were good to go. You found your table and sat down. You talked with some other friends and explained how grad school was going. You make it through the speeches and dinner, and then it’s time to dance.

Being at something like this reminded you of being at an old uni party, only more upscale. Ashley and Kevin’s families were around, so the music wasn’t exactly what you’d normally get down to, but there was an open bar that you were able to take advantage of. Partying with Harry was one of your favorite things. He always used to bring you to the best ones. A slow song starts to play, and you giggle as he bows and extends his hand to you.

“You’re an idiot.” You say as you take his hand and he pulls you close to him.

“Ah, but you’re still choosing to dance with me, babe.”

“Only cause I’m too lazy to find someone else.”

“Ha! That’ll be us someday reading vows at our won wedding. I was too lazy to find someone else, so I settled for my best friend.” He smirks at you and swat his shoulder.

“Would you be quiet? Enough of the people here think something’s going on between us as it is.”

“True.” He looks around at a few people’s wandering eyes. “Should we give them a bit of a show?” He slides his hands further down your back, getting dangerously close to your bum.

“Harry!” You squeal and giggle. “Stop it.” You grab his hands put them to their previous spot. “Just dance with me, would you?”

He chuckles and sways around with you. You both got pretty plastered. You couldn’t stop giggling with him all the way up to your room. You sigh once you get your heels off.

“Okay, I’m using the bathroom first.” You say to him.

“Fine.” He sighs and starts unbuttoning his dress shirt.

You head into the bathroom, and use the toilet. You get your tights all the way off and groan when you can’t reach the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Ugh, Harry!” You call for him. “I need your help!”

“Yeah?” He says, stepping into the bathroom in only his boxers. Nothing you hadn’t seen before.

“My zipper.”

“Oh.” He places a hand on your shoulder, and the other grips the zipper, slowly dragging it down. You clutch the front of it. “You’re not…uh…no bra?”

“No, there’s one built into the dress.” You turn around to face him. “I just need to grab my pj’s and then I’ll need a couple minutes to take my hair out.” You brush by him to go into your suitcase. He takes the opportunity to use the toilet and brush his teeth.

“Need help with anything else?” He asks as you step back into the bathroom.

“Nope, think I can handle the rest, thanks.” You giggle. “Wouldn’t mind some head scratches once I get into bed though.”

Harry gets into bed and waits for you. You come out with your hair a mess, your makeup smeared from rinsing it, and he furrows his brows at you.

“That’s my shirt.” He says as you knee onto the bed.

“Mhm, well, that’s what happens when you ask me to do your laundry for you. I steal your shirts as compensation.”

“Fair enough I suppose. Come here.”

You smile and lay on his chest so he can run his fingers through your hair. You moan softly from it as you relax into him.

“Feels so nice.” You mumble into his chest.

“I can tell.” One of his hands moves to rub your back. He mimics your moaning and you punch him in the arm. “Oi! I won’t love on you if you do that.”

“M’not asking you to love on me, I just wanted me head scratched. Be grateful you get to hear me make those noises, not everyone does.”

“Bet you’d make thousands if you posted something like that on your Only Fans.” He mutters and you move to look at him. “What?”

“Do you…ever look at my page?”

“Sometimes.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes I check your comments to see if anyone’s being rude.”

“Oh…” You swallow. “I make enough doing what I’m doing. I…I’d be too shy to do the really explicate stuff. I also just feel, like, I don’t want just anyone to see me naked, you know? That’s why I don’t go live, everyone would just ask me to take my clothes off.”

“I get that. Wanna keep it private for someone special.”

“Exactly. I mean, I’ve talked about this with you before, but there are plenty of people that are into what I post.”

“You certainly leave them wanting more.”

“You’ve…watched?”

“I’ve checked out some of the free videos you’ve posted, yeah.” He admits shamelessly. “You’re a very good dancer.” He smiles at you.

“I’m going to sleep.” You yawn and turn over. “Goodnight.” You look over your shoulder at him. “If you behave you can spoon me if you want.”

“What do you think I’m gonna do? Slide my prick between your ass cheeks? Grow up.” He says as he wraps his arm around you. You can’t help but laugh. “However, if I get hard while I’m sleeping you can’t get mad.”

“Suppose it’s not my fault I have such a fat, juicy ass, hm?”

“Go to sleep.” He laughs, and presses his chest to your back.

“Mm, you’re so cozy, Harry.”

“I know I am. Go to sleep, lovie.” He coos, and rubs at your side.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” He sighs and nestles into the back of your head.

“So…you let him spoon you all night, and nothing happened?” Rachel whispers to you at breakfast the next morning.

“Happens more often than not, it’s not a big deal.”

“You two are so fucking weird! I’ve literally never met two people who were close that do what you do. Why not just make the jump? Neither one of you can manage to make another relationship work.”

“I don’t know…I…I just don’t see him like that, and I know Harry. If he really liked me like that he’d go for it.”

“Maybe he’s just scared to fuck it up with you.”

“Exactly, so, let’s just not fuck it up and try anything.”

“What are you two hens clucking about, hm?” Harry says as he sits down, putting a cinnamon roll in front of you. “Had you favorite.”

“I’m trying to watch the carbs…” You mutter.

“Please.” He scoffs. “Would you just eat the fucking pastry? It’s good for you.”

“How is that thing good for me?” You laugh.

“It makes you happy when you eat it. You always hum and smile when you eat a cinnamon roll.”

“How sweet of you to notice.” Rachel remarks. “You’re practically her boyfriend.”

“Rachel.” You seethe, and take a bite of the pastry. You hum softly. “Why do these bloody things taste so good, huh?”

Harry chuckles and rubs the back of your neck briefly as he eats his own breakfast. He and Rachel share a glance, but that’s the extent of that interaction.

“Hey, Harry?” You tap on the outside of his door frame.

“Yeah, babe?” He says, taking his headphones out. It was a Friday evening and you both were doing homework. His eyes widen when he looks at you. “Your face is all flushed, are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, I just…could you come look at something for me?”

“Sure.” He follows you to your room and sits with you on your bed.

“Um...could I…could I show you some new photos I took yesterday? I just finished editing them…and I’m feeling a little self-conscious.”

“Aw, why? You’re so beautiful.” He keeps your cheek and rubs his thumb along your cheekbone. “Course I’ll look ‘em over for you.”

“Thanks.” You swallow and put your laptop on his lap. “So…like usual, they’re not overly explicit, but I feel like my boobs look weird. I should have gotten something with more support.” You blush and point to the photo.

“They’re perfect, you look perfect, Y/N.” You suck your teeth at him. “You do! What else do you want me to say?”

“Okay, what about this one?”

“Perfect.”

“This one?”

“Perfect.”

“But what about this one?”

“Perfect, they’re all perfect. I don’t know why you don’t think so.” He frowns and sets your laptop down on your desk. He turns to look at you. “What’s really going on?”

“It’s just…I have all these people leaving comments saying they wish they could know me, date, fuck me…and…like I don’t know any of them! All they know about me is that I can dance, and I look cute sucking on a lollypop. I…if I wasn’t making the money I that I am I’d stop doing it because I just want someone real to say all of those things to me, you know?”

“Y/N…” Harry sighs. “I know you, I wanna date you, and I certainly want to fuck you.”

“Wh-what?”

“I know, it’s so cliché it’s disgusting, isn’t it?” He smirks. “But it’s how I feel. I’m sick of tip toeing around it.”

“How long have you felt this way?”

“Can’t really pinpoint it, I don’t think it’s been long, but it doesn’t feel new either.”

Your eyes well up with tears, and he puts his hand back on your cheek. You lean into it. You felt deeply confused.

“I just never thought we’d…like…I just didn’t think you were into my like that.”

“Well, I am, so…what do you think? We already get along great. We like spending time together. I truthfully can’t stand other people. I think you’re the only person’s day I actually like hearing about. Have you really never thought about it?”

“I don’t know! You never made a move when we were in undergrad, with all those nights we slept next to each other, you never did anything…”

“Yeah, because you were asleep, Y/N.” He deadpans. “What did you want me to do? Feel you up while you were unconscious? Or better yet, make a move while we were both intoxicated?”

“No, of course not.” You shake your head. “I…I don’t know what I wanted. I just felt lucky that I had such a good friend.”

“Yeah, me too.” He sighs. “Look, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, this doesn’t need to be weird. Just know if you wanted to give it a try, I’d be down.”

“You’re genuinely attracted to me, like, physically?”

“Yes.” He chuckles. “And I like what you got going on up here too.” He taps your forehead with his index finger. “But you knew that already. What about me, are you physically attracted to me?”

“Well…yeah, you know you’re hot.”

“I didn’t ask you what I know.” He smirks.

“Okay, yeah, I’ve always thought you were handsome, but you used to really be a douchebag, it turned me off. Made it easier to just be your friend.” You smirk at him and he rolls his eyes.

“M’not like that anymore.” He inches closer to you. You could feel his minty breath fanning over you.

“I know.” You say just above a whisper. The mood had changed immensely. The dim lighting in your room was creating an atmosphere you had never really felt with him before.

“So…I guess the only thing left to figure out is if there’s any real heat between us.” You nod at him as his hand goes back to cradle your cheek once more. “Can I kiss you, Y/N?”

“Yes.”

You move towards each other slowly, your lips gracefully pressing against each other’s. You felt scared as your eyes pinched closed. It was scary to kiss your best friend, and what was scarier was that fact that it felt so natural and seamless. He pulls away, just to see if you’ll chase him, and you do, kissing him again. You do the same to him, and he comes chasing after your soft lips.

“Harry.” You whisper as you press your forehead to his.

“Yeah?” He whispers back.

“I…I wanna have sex with you.”

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

He cups both of your cheeks and pulls your lips back to his. His tongue peeks out to swipe along your bottom lip. He runs his lips back and forth over yours, and you open up for him. Your tongues meet, and you lick against each other, eliciting a moan from the both of you. You tug at the hem of his shirt, and he lets you lift it off. Your run your hands up and down his stomach as you continue to explore each other’s mouths, lips getting puffy and swollen. He sucks your bottom lip into his mouth while he unzips the sweatshirt you’re wearing. He pushes it off your shoulders, and you shimmy it the rest of the way off. He’s met with your bare breasts, and he licks his lips as he looks at them.

Harry pulls you closer to him, and his lips press against your neck. You cling to his biceps as he works his mouth down your chest. He looks up at you as he sucks on one of your nipples, rolling it between your teeth. You can’t help your head from falling back. He slides down to the floor as he continues to kiss on you. Your mouth falls open as he nips and sucks on your stomach, and his fingers hook into your leggings. He looks up at you and you nod. He tugs your leggings and underwear down your legs and gets them all the way off.

“Y/N, you’re sure?”

“Yes, I want you to, please.”

You open your legs for him, and he just about loses it from your confidence. He leans forward and kisses each of your hips. You think he’s about to go for your center, but he sucks on your inner thigh. You flinch from the sensitivity, but it feels good. You make sure to sit up on your elbows so you can watch him. He looks up at you and licks a flat stripe between your folds. He sucks on each of your lips before spreading you apart with his thumbs to focus on your clit. He sucks on it at first, harshly, and you gasp. He uses the tip of his tongue to flick back and forth against it. He runs his hands along your thighs to keep you open for him. You were clenching around nothing. His tongue was warm and wet, and everything you needed.

Your body starts to feel warm all over, you can feel your orgasm start to bubble up from within your lower belly. You let yourself fall back against the bed as you start to pant. Your voice cracks as louder moans begin to rip through your throat. He was sucking and slurping on your cunt, noises you had never heard before while someone was going down on you. And to really push you over the edge, he was moaning into you. Not little whimpers or grunts, genuine moans that were vibrating into you.

“Oh my god!” You cry out. A few tears roll down your cheeks as he continues to lap around you, helping you come down.

He kisses back up your body until he’s hovering over you. He smears his lips over yours, and you grunt, pulling him closer to you. It was the filthiest kiss of your life, completely tasting yourself on him, but you didn’t care. He just made you feel better than anyone ever did. You push him so he’ll on his back, and this time you’re the one to sink onto the floor. You get his jeans and boxers down his legs. Your eyes bug out when you see his large prick slap back against his stomach.

“Christ, Harry.”

“As if you didn’t already know.” He smirks.

“I mean, I had an idea.”

You spit into your hand and wrap it around his length. He grits his teeth as you start to slowly pump him up and down. You run his tip along your lips, and his mouth falls open. Your tongue presses over his slit and you wrap your lips around him. You suckle his tip, eliciting a moan from him. You hollow your cheeks and sink almost all the way down on him. You just wanted to feel him down your throat. You breathe your nose and just hold him there.

“Y/N.” He stutters.

You slowly pull off of him, a string of spit keeping you connected. You suck in a breath before sinking back down on him, not quite as much as you took before, and you bob up and down his length. You cup his balls and massage them as you make a mess of his prick. There was spit, drool, and precome dripping down your chin. Harry was a panting mess on the bed. His hands were gripping at the sheets, and the sight of him doing that causes you to moan. To see his veins popping out the way they were was enough to make you come again.

“Y/N, fuck, I’m gonna come.”

You moan around him as his come spurts into your mouth. You swallow it all and suck him dry. He pulls you up to him, dumbfounded that you just did what you did.

“I thought you wanted me to fuck you.” He breathes.

“I do, I’ve heard you have pretty good stamina.” You peck his lips. “I’m sure you’ll get hard again soon.”

He groans and shifts his thighs between your legs, making you gasp. He grips your hips and starts moving you back and forth along his tiger tattoo. Your nails dig into his chest as you work to grind against him.

“H-Harry.” You mewl.

“Yeah, ride my fucking leg, baby, show me how you do it.”

“God.”

“I want you so bad, I wanna fuck you so bad, Y/N.”

“Oh, oh!” You come undone on his thigh. You lean down and press your lips to his, licking into his mouth. Before you know it he’s moving you up his body, turning you around, and licking back into your cunt. “Shit!”

He’s relentless with you, fucking you with his tongue, telling you to bounce up and down on him, and you listen. He sucks on your clit again, and you fall forward, head resting on his thigh. You watch as his cock bloats back up. You’d never know someone to enjoy doing this so much. You kiss on his thigh because you just needed to do something with your mouth. He makes you come again, and he lifts you off of his face.

“Think you can keep going?” He smirks as your head falls back against your pillows.

He grabs your legs and pushes them back so your knees press against the bed. He lifts your bum enough to rest on his thighs, and he dips his tongue back into your cunt. This was some serious teasing. You watch as his tongue goes in and out of you, deeper each time. He reaches forward with one of his hands to rub your clit. It was throbbing for him.

“Harry, please.”

“What, no good?”

“No, it’s amazing, but…I really wanna feel your dick now, please, I know you’re hard again.”

“You just taste so good.” He brings his mouth down to your cunt and sucks on it.

“This won’t be the only time I’ll let your head between my legs, I promise.” You let your legs drop back to lay normally. He sits back as you look at each other. “When was the last time you were tested? I…I’m clean, and if you are too, I’d prefer not to use a condom if you feel comfortable with that.”

“STD test came back negative a month ago when I went in for a checkup. You’re on the pill?”

“Yeah.”

He leans down to kiss you, and then he pulls back to paint his cock with your wetness that was uncontrollably leaking out of you for him. He presses his tip against your clit, and slides it down your slit. He pushes inside you slowly. He fills you to the hilt, and waits. For a moment he just wants to enjoy how tight and snug you are around him. You push your hips up and start rocking against him.

“Jesus, Y/N, you’re so fucking perfect.”

“Because I’m moving myself on you?” You giggle.

“I just think it’s cute that you’re so goddamn impatient.”

“Would you just shut up and show what you can do with this thing? Or am I gonna have to do all of this myself?”

He accepts the challenge, pulling his hips back, and snapping them forward. You reach behind yourself to press against the headboard so your head doesn’t smack against it. He drives it into you fast and deep. He pushes you to the brink of coming, but he pulls all the way out of you. Before you can complain he flips you over, and grabs your hips. He pulls you back to him and slips back inside. You moan out from the new angle, and the sound of his skin slapping against yours makes your eyes roll back. He gives your bum a light smack and you grunt.

“You can do that a little harder, a little.” You didn’t want him to fully spank you, you weren’t into that sort of thing, but you didn’t mind feeling it a little more. He delivers a harsher smack and you groan again.

“You have the best ass I’ve ever seen.” He smacks you again and you grip onto the pillows. He grips the back of your neck to get a steadier pace going, and he uses his other hand to rub your clit.

“Fuck, Harry. You’re so attentive.” You manage to say. You felt like you could barely breathe.

“I’m gonna ruin you for any other guy.”

“Don’t want any other guy.” You admit. “I don’t want anyone else to fuck me.”

“Christ.” He moans.

His fingers move faster on your clit, and his tip pounds against your g-spot, and you’re coming. You’re coming hard around him. He pulls out and sits up against the headboard. You look up at him, completely frazzled.

“I want you ride me.”

“Okay.” You breathe. You shuffle around and swing your leg over him. You line him up with yourself and sink down on him.

He fondles your breasts as you move up and down on him. He kisses on your chest as you get a rhythm going. He leans back just to watch your tits bounce up and down. He looks up at you and grips you by the back of your neck to pull your mouth down to his. You breathe each other in and out as you moan and gasp. He takes control by gripping your hips, and you cling to him to let him just do what he wanted with you. You tighten around him and his head falls back for a moment.

“Where can I come?” He asks.

“Where do you want to come?”

“Inside you.”

“Okay.”

“You’re okay with that?”

“Yes.”

“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He grunts.

You cry out as he does when he comes. You don’t think you had ever felt so full in your life. He kisses you as you both catch your breaths. You tug at his hair, and grind against him. You were close to coming again. He takes the hint and snakes his hand between you both and rubs your clit. Your orgasm rips through you, and you moan into his neck.

“I’m so fucking sweaty.” You whisper.

“Do you wanna take a shower?”

“Yeah.” You look up at him. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Of course.”

“Do I still have legs? Because I can’t feel them.”

He puffs out some air as he laughs, smoothing some hair away from your face.

“Yes, you still have legs, Y/N. Should I carry you to the bathroom?”

“Please, I really need to pee.”

He kisses your forehead and slowly lifts you off of him. You clench so nothing falls out. You didn’t want to make a bigger mess of your bed.

“We can sleep in my room and wash your sheets tomorrow, don’t worry about that.” He says as he carries you bridal style to the bathroom.

He sets you down on the toilet and steps out to give you some privacy. Once he hears the water for the shower start he comes back in. He splays a hand on your back and gives you a gentle rub before you both step in. You felt overwhelmed. You just had the best sex of your life with your very best friend. As he reaches for his body wash you swat his hand. He raises an eyebrow at you.

“Would you…would you just hold me?” Your bottom lip quivers, and he pulls you into his chest.

You nestle into him, and just stand under the warm water with him. He cradles your head and lets you cry into him. He starts to cry too, although he’s not really sure why.

“I don’t want anything to get fucked up between us, Harry.” You look up at him, tears streaming down your cheeks. “I love you so much, and I don’t want something bad to happen that’ll make us hate each other.”

“M’not gonna let that happen.” He wipes your tears away, and then wipes away his own. “We’re gonna do this right. We’ll go out on dates, and we’ll see where it goes, and I hope it goes well because I love you too, and I value so many of the things we have with each other.”

You each take turns scrubbing each other down, getting clean. It’s soothing, and calming. You both relax, and get wrapped up into some towels. You run the blow dryer through your hair quickly just so it’s not sopping wet. He gives you one of his bed shirts to wear, and you crawl into bed with him. Being immersed in his scent was exactly what you needed. You rest your head on his chest, and he throws his arm around you.

“When was the last time you actually dated someone?” You ask softly.

“Um…think I was sixteen to be honest with you.”

“Ah, so a while.” You chuckle.

“You literally know my entire sexual history, and I know yours, let’s not pretend we’re both experts with all this.”

“So…we’ll just make this up as we go? I mean, I like that we sleep together sometimes, but I wanna keep my room, I don’t wanna move into the same room.”

“Christ, slow down, we just got together and you’re already talking about moving into the same bedroom?” You swat at his chest and he laughs, kissing the top of your head. “In all seriousness, I feel the same way, I think we should still have our separate spaces. You get pissed off with me easily.”

“Maybe you should try not to piss me off then.”

“Well, now that I know you enjoy a good tonguing, I’m not really worried about it. God, we can make up from a fight with sex instead of watching Dirty Dancing, it’s gonna be incredible.”

“Can…can we not do both?” You look up at him. “I love singing Hungry Eyes with you.”

“Yeah, both is good.”

“And I wanna make sure we clarify what are dates, and what’s just hanging out. I want dates to feel…special, I don’t know.”

“Can do. I think study dates at the library are gonna be my favorite.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because I can rile you up. I’ll sit across from you to play footsie, and then I’ll run my foot up your leg. I’ll make eyes at you. You’ll end up blowing me in the bathroom, it’ll be great.”

“Mm, yes, well, what if my leg’s the one doing the rubbing? I could probably make you come in your pants from my foot on your crotch alone.”

“Okay, no study dates. You know what I would really like, though?”

“What?”

“Sometimes…sometimes I really miss you when I work double shifts at work, and then I feel bad because you’re here all by yourself…so maybe you could come to the coffee shop more? Hang out, do homework, I’ll give you free food.”

“Sounds like a sweet deal to me.” You bite your bottom lip. “You’re not gonna ask me to give up my Only Fans are you?”

“What? No, why would you even think that?”

“I don’t know…you’re the jealous type, Harry.”

“True…but if that’s what you wanna do for work, I don’t have a problem with it. Can I tell you a dirty secret?”

“Always.”

“I’m subscribed to your page.”

“You are?!”

“Yeah…I’ve never wanked to your stuff because I feel like that would be creepy, but I do keep up with what you post.”

“I’m not gonna do it forever, once I get a real job I won’t need it…”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, babe. Even if you were doing the really filthy stuff, I wouldn’t care. That’s your business.”

“God, if I wasn’t so tired I’d hop on your dick again.”

He chuckles at that and gives your shoulder a squeeze.

“Any other questions?”

“I don’t think so. Although, I’m not looking forward to telling Rachel. The it’s about time or I told you so is not gonna be fun.”

“Same with Niall and Louis. We just gotta rip the band aid.”

You hum your response and get a little cozier by putting one of your legs over his. It was easy enough to fall asleep. You talked, so you weren’t worried about your friendship ending. If anything, it was all going to get better. Being able to kiss and touch on top of how you were with each other already was just the cherry on top. It didn’t happen over drinks, it didn’t happen in a club, and it didn’t happen by mistake. This was on purpose. He was the person you were supposed to be with, and he felt the same way.

#and they were roommates #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #jealous!Harry #bestfriend!Harry #roommate!Harry #roommate!reader

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hopeymchope · 2 years

Text

Bunch of reactions to the Nintendo Direct Mini (6/28/22)

— OH MY GOD PERSONA 5 ROYAL / PERSONA 4 GOLDEN / PERSONA 3 PORTABLE ON SWITCH ARE ALL REAL WHY DIDN’T THEY TELL US EARLIER JESUS CHRIST

BUUUUURN YOOOOOO DREEEEEEAD

.......................................thank the maker, lordy. Mad respect to bringing in the VAs for Morgana and Teddy to promote this, too. Should’ve thrown in Aigis while they were at it, but still very cool :D

— I still haven’t played any of the Nier games, and I know loads of people absolutely adore Automata, so I’ll probably play that finally on Switch. Although I’m most likely already spoiled for damn near everything that happens by now.

Is it still worth my time if I already basically know the twists and turns along the way?

— MEGA MAAAAAAN OHwhoopsIt’sJustBattleNetwork. And it doesn’t even have the lone 2D platformer in that series (Network Transmission), which would be much more appealing to me personally. I must confess I’ve only ever tried to play the original Battle Network on the GBA, and it utterly failed to get my interest. Maybe the first game isn’t the best way to get introduced, though... ? I love Mega Man as a property enough that I might buy this just to support him, but I’m not sure. BTW Capcom, nice try with that “includes 10 games line,” but get outta here with that shit. That’s SIX games and you damn well know it. (.....you should’ve included Battle Chip Challenge though and made it seven)

“It includes ten games... from a certain point of view.”

— I really liked Mario + Rabbids Kingdom Battle more than I expected. I hope this sequel leans into what made it good and gives us a far wider variety of characters. And just bring Donkey Kong into the main campaign this time. That’d be neat.

— Pac-Man World is back! Pac-Man World Re-PAC BAAAYBEEEEE. I was always a fan of Pac-Man World 2 and especially Pac-Man World 3 (UNDERRATED), but the first one was really difficult for me to go back to... I never finished. So this news is VERY welcome. EXCEPT!... it contains even more of Namco rewriting history to erase Ms. Pac-Man from existence due to their unbelievable pettiness.

(SHORTEST EXPLANATION I CAN MUSTER: An American group of guys named “GCC Technologies” created the original Ms. Pac-Man, and they had a right to get residuals from it ONLY whenever the game was re-released either digitally or in original “coin-operated” arcade form. They made an agreement with AtGames to let them build miniature copies of the arcade game, which ultimately led to AtGames purchasing ALL of their residuals. BUT! Namco had previously let AtGames make miniature Pac-Man arcade machines, and they were so unhappy with the product’s low quality that they were FURIOUS to learn AtGames had purchased the residuals from the GCC Technologies. So now, Namco is on a quest to retroactively delete all evidence that Ms. Pac-Man ever existed in the most extreme case of epic corporate pettiness I’ve ever seen in my life. The logic seems to be that — even though Namco retains all rights to the Ms. Pac-Man character — they’re afraid that letting the public see ANY REMINDER THAT MS. PAC-MAN EXISTED might lead them to giving AtGames money for their shitty miniature arcade cabinets. So instead, Namco is WIPING HER OUT — even going so far as to alter her appearances in all the old games included in the recent Pac-Man Museum+. She’s being replaced with a new hat-wearing girl they named “Pac-Mom,” which is literally a worse name than even “Ms. Pac-Man” was. It’s excessively FUCKED. And I deeply wish we could make them stop.)

Fucking PAC-MOM Jesus what the FUCK

— BLANC looks so pretty and so sweet and I’m very very worried that it’s going to make me cry by the end.

Either one of them dies or the wolf cub gets older and tries to kill the deer, I just know it.

— Who did Nintendo have to pay to get timed console exclusivity on Return to Monkey Island?! Damn, I really need to play that series. I’ve barely scratched its surface. :( I’ve only played a little bit of The Curse of Monkey Island — which I hear this new sequel basically ignores, along with every other sequel past the second one?

— If some Nintendo fans are going to discover the Portal series for the first time, I’m very happy for them. Good vibes.

#nintendo direct #nintendo direct mini #nintendo direct mini partner showcase #pac-man #ms. pac-man #pac-mom #mega man #nier automata #nier: automata #persona #persona 3 portable #persona 4 golden #persona 5 royal #p3p #p4g #p5r #blanc #monkey island #return to monkey island

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thestalwartheart · 2 years

Note

First and POV? 👀

Hello! Thank you for asking 🥰 For everyone else this is in response to the writing asks I posted earlier.

I have so many WIPs I could use for this, but I've been working on my (as yet unpublished) 00Q Bookshop AU today, so I'll post a bit of that.

FIRST — the first two sentences of my current project

Raoul fucking Silva. Try as he might, Q doubts he’ll forget that name as long as he lives.

POV — something that’s already happened, retold from another character’s perspective

The whole fic is written from Q's perspective, but here's the scene where they introduce themselves to each other from Bond's POV. Thank you for this ask, it's helped me crack Bond's characterisation a bit better. Under the cut for length 👇 Unedited, so beware!

The man — though Bond would scarcely call him that for all he looks like a boy — sits engrossed in an Ursula Le Guin novel. He’s devouring it more than reading it. It’s clear he’s not used to having time to do this free in his schedule, though he’s been sitting in one of Bond’s leather armchairs for three hours with nothing so much as a ping from his phone to summon him elsewhere.

“Can I get you a cup of tea?”

“Oh, Christ!” The man looks up, startled. “Sorry, I was just— I should get out of your hair.”

Bond can’t help a smile as he watches the man close the book and look around, lost, reaching for his bag.

“Stay,” says Bond. “You look comfortable. The offer of tea was genuine, by the way. I make a better coffee, but you don’t strike me as a man for espresso.”

His observation is met with an amused hum. “Only occasionally, when things get really dire. Or I’m on holiday. Tea would be lovely, thank you. Do you want me to pay now, or…”

Bond waves him off. The last thing he needs is a rumour flying around that he’s got a cafe in here. “Don’t worry about it.”

When he returns minutes later, a mug of tea in hand, the man is flicking idly through a travel guide for Cambodia and Laos. When he sees the mug in Bond’s hand, he sits up properly and smiles widely.

“Thank you. You’re very kind, Mr…”

“Bond, James Bond. And it’s no trouble.”

His name gets him a curious look. Or perhaps it’s just the way Bond introduces himself. A bit dramatic for a bookshop, he’ll admit. It always had worked better in the field.

“Nice to meet you, Mr Bond.”

“James will do.”

“James, then.”

The man picks up his tea, eyeing the pile of books next to him warily as he does. Afraid of his own clumsiness then. No matter, it wouldn’t be the first time Bond’s had to sort out a cleanup in here.

“I’m Jonathan,” he says. “Though I usually go by Q.”

“Something funny?” Jonathan asks, after Bond lets a laugh escape him.

“You’ve just reminded me of someone I was quite fond of.”

Q indeed. He doesn’t look completely dissimilar to the old Major, with his vintage cardigan and corduroy blazer. Bond tries to imagine him at the helm of Q Branch, and can’t. Jonathan seems well-put together, nowhere near as much of an eccentric as Boothroyd. One day dealing with the chaos of testing exploding pens would likely send the man running. Then again, maybe they didn’t go in for that sort of thing anymore.

In any case, Jonathan looks far too young to be Quartermaster.

#ask box #00q fic #my fic #00q

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ratofthemedievalsewers · 3 years

Text

Heart of Steel - Part I

DBH Connor x Male Reader

Word Count: 2.5K+

Content warning: Minor injury detail, PTSD, language

Original game dialogue I got from this video:

https://youtu.be/32Np9LKI1Vg

We were attacked in the night.

After returning from a mission back to an outpost several miles from the red zone, we removed our gear save for a few pouches on our belts we could bother with later. Our team leader set up a fire while the SQ800s, CyberLife commissioned combat androids, began loading up the trucks with extra artillery and resources. A job that could have waited until morning, but Alpha always gave the androids something to do. He said that they creeped him out when they would just stand there in a dormant state, waiting for their next mission to be given to them.

"You know what I'm going to do when I get home?"

"Here we go again."

"I'm going to get me a WR400," Foxtrot; not everyone's favourite but he certainly kept us entertained when there was nothing to do.

"Uh-huh and with what money are you going to be using to pay for this WR400? A military salary definitely ain't gonna cut it." Echo always called out Foxtrot's bullshit, he was the only one that had the patience to deal with him.

"Fine, my birthday is comin' up, if you put towards two-thirds of what it costs we can share. How does that sound?"

"I am not sharing anything with you, I don't know what diseases you carry." Their constant back forth sent chuckles through the group.

"Alright, that's enough you two. It's getting late and past everyone's bedtime, I want you all awake by O-five-hundred at the latest," Alpha would often stop them before Foxtrot would take it too far, but he could never hide the twitching smile on his face.

"Yes sir," Foxtrot mock saluted as he stood from his seat around the campfire. "Hey Echo, that offer is still-"

One moment Foxtrot had a wide grin on his face, the next there was a hole in his head between his eyes, the sound of gunshot ringing in everyone's ears.

"SHOTS FIRED! GET TO COVER NOW!"

"FOXTROT IS DOWN! I REPEAT, FOXTROT IS DOWN!"

It was dark, we couldn't see where they were firing from. The android was the only one still standing, firing off in random directions as they were gunned down. The next was Delta, shot in the left shoulder, then the throat. My gun was back in my tent and there was no chance of me getting it. Stupid.

"MEDIC! GET TO DELTA! NOW!"

"GRENADE!"

I heard the thump by my feet before I saw it. You would think it would be terrifying, to know you're staring death in the face, but for a second it was peaceful. My body was cold and I already felt like a corpse, the Rigour Mortis freezing me in place, just softly gazing at what would kill me.

Something grabbed me before the grenade exploded, saving my life but destroying the android.

The bedsheets were crumpled and soaked in sweat again when my eyes shot open. It was hard to breathe, the panic was still running through me and closing up my throat at the memory.

In; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four. Out; one, two, three, four. Hold; one, two, three, four.

It took a few minutes for me to remember where I was. That I was home and that I was safe. Out of nervous habit, I gripped my dog tags, they were wet from the sweat that had soaked through my shirt in the night.

"Shit." It was four in the morning, there was no chance of getting any more sleep and the station wouldn't be open for another two more hours at the least. Saying that; Fowler wanted to speak to me first thing, which never meant anything good for anyone.

It was aching again at the joint. The biomechanical component always felt itchy where it joined at the elbow. Anytime I would have that dream I would scratch at it in my sleep, it was like my subconscious knew it didn't belong. It knew my rotting left arm was still in the desert somewhere being picked apart by vultures.

It's almost ironic; to be saved by an android and then to have part of one attached to me. I hated it.

*****

"Morning Cyborg, you look like shit." Gavin was forever pleasant to talk to.

"Fuck off, Reed." He constantly hovered around the coffee machine, hogging it like it was his newborn baby. "Is Fowler in yet?"

"Not yet, you in trouble?" He took his time making his coffee, exceeding in being the department's resident asshat. "Did he catch you looking at porn on your work terminal again?"

"I'm pretty sure that's only ever happened to you." Not wanting to be reminded of his previous escapades I got no response. Gavin let out a small huff before moving to the side with his fresh cup of coffee, freeing up the machine.

"Officer (L/N)." Oh for fuck's sake.

"Sir?" Captain Fowler stood outside his office, his coat half soaked from the rain.

"My office, I need to speak to you." He didn't give a second glance to me before turning and letting the glass door shut behind him.

"Ha, good luck cyborg." Shooting Gavin the middle finger, I followed Captian Fowler into his office.

"What was it you wished to talk about, sir?" Feet shoulder-width apart, back straight and hands behind my back; habits from the army were destined to die hard. Often I would find myself moving my hand up to salute before leaving the presence of a superior, something else for Gavin to make fun of.

"You're aware of the deviant cases I've assigned to Lieutenant Anderson, correct?" Fowler sat at his desk, wet coat now hung on its rack, but there was slight dampness to his suit blazer where his coat had been left open.

"Yes sir. I believe he's being accompanied by a prototype RK800 from Cyberlife."

"That's correct. I'm sure you're aware that these deviancy cases are on the more..."

"Dangerous?"

"...Unpredictable side. Now, I can't exactly issue a gun to a prototype android if it's going to be in the field and, while I value Hank as a police officer, his record is on the rougher side."

"Captain Fowler, with all due respect, I don't believe-"

"Office (L/N), with all due respect, you don't have an opinion in this matter. I want you to accompany Lieutenant Anderson in these assignments just in case a deviant becomes too much for him or this android to handle. You've certainly got the skillset for it and you're not unfamiliar with working alongside androids, unlike quite a few officers in this department."

"I understand that, but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say I don't want to hear it." Captain Fowler didn't give me a chance to argue as he stood and walked to his office door, the annoyed look on his face worsening. "Hank, in my office!"

I let out a sigh before Captain Fowler turned back to his desk. Through the office wall made of glass Hank reluctantly made his way towards us grumbling something under his breath at the request, the RK800 model obediently following behind him like a little, lost puppy. Hank sat in the chair opposite Fowler while the android stood next to me, giving a small smile as a greeting.

Captain Fowler was the first to talk, "I've got ten new cases involving androids on my desk every day. We've always had isolated incidents, old ladies losing their android maids and that kind of crap... But now, we're getting reports of assaults and even homicides, like that guy last night. This isn't just cyberlife's problem anymore, it's now a criminal investigation and we've gotta deal with it before the shit hits the fan. I want you to investigate these cases, alongside officer (L/N) and see if there's any link."

"Why me? And why do I need a god damned partner? A stupid android is already too much. Why do I gotta be the one to deal with this shit?" Props to Hank for trying, but arguing with Fowler was like talking to a brick wall. "I am the least qualified cop in the country to handle this case! I know jack shit about androids, Jeffery. I can barely change the settings on my own phone."

"Everybody's overloaded. I think you're perfectly qualified for this type of investigation," They were already starting to blow up at each other.

"Bullshit! The truth is nobody wants to investigate these fuckin' androids and you left me holdin' the bag!"

"CyberLife sent over this android to help with this investigation and I've given you (L/N) as well. You've got a state of the art prototype and a leading police officer to act as your partners."

"No fuckin' way! I don't need partners, and certainly not this plastic prick and some action hero fucker."

"Nice working with you too, Lieutenant Anderson," I said under my breath, not intending for the others to hear. Connor turned his head slightly in my direction, I could see his LED blink yellow for a moment before going back to its bright blue.

"Hank, you are seriously starting to piss me off! You are a police lieutenant, you are supposed to do what I say and shut your goddamn mouth!"

"You know what my goddamn mouth has to say to you, huh?"

"I'll pretend like I didn't hear that, so I don't have to add any more pages to your disciplinary folder 'cause it already looks like a fuckin' novel! This conversation is over."

"Jeffrey, Jesus Christ! Why are you doin' this to me? You know how much I hate these fuckin' things. Why are you doin' this to me?" Most of the department knew why he had such a distaste towards androids, no one could necessarily blame him. Ever since losing his son Hank had become completely different as both a person and an officer. Admittedly, Fowler was harsh on him, but if he wasn't then Hank would drift.

"I've had just enough of your bitching. Either you do your job or you hand in your badge. Now if you'll excuse me, I've got work to do." Hank left in a strop, letting out his frustration on Fowler's office door.

"Well then..." Connor was quick to break the tense silence. His voice caught me off guard, it was smoother, more human than any android's I had heard before. The SQ800's voices had always been more robotic than other models so it had been a shock when the androids back home had sounded so normal, it felt like that all over again. It was jarring. "I won't keep you any longer. Have a nice day captain."

Connor left and I followed behind, giving a small nod of dismissal to Fowler despite him still looking at his terminal screen.

The android went straight to Hank either oblivious or ignoring the lieutenant's current bad mood, granted there was never a time the bastard was in a good mood. Heaven itself could rain down on Detroit and he'd huff at it like a hair in his food.

"I got the impression my presence causes you some inconvenience, Lieutenant. I'd like you to know I'm very sorry about that. In any case, I'd like you to know I'm very to be working with you." Ever the enthusiast.

"I'd give in now. You're talking to a toddler in a fifty-year old's body and the toddler is having a hissy fit." I half sat and half leant against Hank's desk, using my arms to support my weight.

"Apologies, I don't believe I've introduced myself. My name is Connor, I am the android sent by CyberLife." He turned to me, a gentle and manufactured smile on his face. "It's a pleasure to be working with you too, officer (L/N). I'm sure we'll make a great team."

"Er... (Y/N) is just fine."

"Is there a desk anywhere I could use?"

"No one's using that one." Hank points to the desk opposite him, while still sulking like a child.

"Gasp, it speaks," I said in a sarcastic tone while turning to Hank.

"Fuck off. I've already got an android on my ass, I don't need you on it too."

I grabbed a terminal pad before perching myself back at the edge of Hank's desk while Connor got comfortable at the empty one. The light at the side of his head flashing yellow for a moment like he was hesitant to speak."You have a dog, right?"

"How do you know that?"

"The dog hairs on your chair. I like dogs. What's your dog's name?"

"What's it to you?" Hank shifted in his seat, "...Sumo... I call him Sumo."

"Under all those shitty shirts and questionable stains there's a warm, beating heart," I say more to myself than the other two, skimming over the recent case files sent in by Fowler.

"Officer (L/N)... (Y/N), knowing that we'd be working together I read your academy and field records. You have quite an interesting background."

"Oh yeah, then you understand that I may be a little driven to get these cases over with. I can't say I'm a fan of you terminators."

"I understand you have a... warped view of androids due to what you've experienced, but I hope you understand that I am your partner and not your enemy."

"Connor, you're not my partner, you're cyberlife's latest gizmo for us kick around." I sigh, turning to sit at my desk adjacent to hanks, taking the terminal pad with me. "Just look through the deviant case files. Terminals on your desk, knock yourself out."

They're nothing but machines. They are not your friends.

"Two-hundred and forty-three files, the first date back nine months. It all started in Detroit... And quickly spread across the country." Connor had only connected the terminal moments before.

"Don't work your CPU too hard," I mutter under my breath, catching a quick huff of amusement from Hank.

"An AX400 is reported to have murdered a man last night. That could be a good starting point for our investigation." Hank was doing his best to pretend Connor didn't exist, but the android was persistent. Connor stood from his chair and made his way into Hank's personal space.

"Uh, Jesus..." Hank turned his chair away.

"I understand you're facing personal issues, Lieutenant, but you need to move past them and-" For an android, Connor has some balls on him.

"Hey! Don't talk to me like you know me. I'm not your friend and I don't need your advice, okay?" Hank's mood had soured like milk, it wouldn't be long until Fowler was adding another page to Hank's disciplinary folder.

"I've been assigned this mission Lieutenant, I didn't come here to wait until you feel like working."

"Connor, you're just gonna-" I had wasted my breath, Hank had already stood and was grabbing onto Connor by the collar of his Cyberlife jacket and slamming against the screen next to his desk. "Hank!"

"Listen asshole. If it were up to me, I'd rather throw the lot of you in a dumpster and set a match to it. So, stop pissing me off... or things are gonna get nasty."

"Hank," I placed a hand on his shoulder to try and lightly pull him away from Connor but only earned a nasty side-eye. "Leave off him, you don't get paid enough to replace him."

"Lieutenant... Officer (L/N), uh... sorry to disturb you," Looks like the tin can was saved before Hank could knock the light out of him, "I have some information on the AX400 that killed that guy last night. It's been sighted in the Ravendale district."

"I'm on it." Hank didn't glance back when he dropped Connor's collar. The puppy dog look on his face almost made me feel bad for him... almost.

"Come on, WALL-E. Don't want to keep the old man waiting."

#detroit become human #dbh #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #dbh fanfic #dbh x reader #dbh x male reader #connor x male reader #connor rk800 #male reader #m! reader #connor x m!reader

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