#[ sounds like drunk discord calls tonight ]

[howlkissed]

This is a Christmas present from a custodian at my job btw lmao

[muldersfingers]

College best friends AU

I got carried away headcanoning on Discord about these two college best friends, coming home tipsy from a party. (2700 words)

Read on Ao3

---

His apartment is closer, so she stays with him. 

Candice’s birthday party had been fun, and they were both a little drunk. She had leaned against him the whole way back to his place, a pleasant buzz coursing through her as she clung to her best friend’s arm.

They were giggling about… she wasn’t really sure, as they pushed into his apartment and she immediately plonked herself down on the floor and tore the heels from her feet.

“Ouch,” she complained sadly as Mulder took off his unbuttoned shirt.

Mulder groaned as he dropped himself down to the floor, too, leaning against the wall. 

He looked so cute tonight. His checked shirt was one of her favourites, and when he wore it unbuttoned she liked to tease him about being able to see his nipples through his undershirt.

“Stop looking,” he’d tease back.

They both tended to get quite handsy with each other after a couple of drinks. Scully’s girlfriends never believed her when she told them nothing had ever happened between them. Not even a kiss?! they’d ask. She would shake her head.

That was her best friend. Mulder. She had never even thought of him that way.

-

Nobody believed Mulder when he said he and Scully were just friends. Well, they weren’t just friends. They were best friends. She was the best friend he could ever hope for. He never understood why someone so beautiful and cool would bother with him, but they had been close for over a year now. She took him how he was, in all his geeky idiocy, his unhinged ideas and his ‘overactive imagination’, so she called it.

She was staying with him because his apartment was closer. He loved having her at his place.

She was laying on the floor, on her front, soft and giggly from the shots she had been doing when he found her. Before he whisked her away from the party, away from the crowd and the noise and now… here they were. Alone, in the quiet.

“Let’s watch a movie, Mulder,” she said, and he knew what would happen. She would argue with him about movie choice, fighting to get her own pick, and she would fall asleep within ten minutes. Gentle snuffly snores as her head laid on his shoulder.

“Sure,” he said.

He could never say no to her.

-

She swung her legs under her on the couch and curled up against him as the movie started. She was tired, but she needed to unwind from the party, and she loved spending time alone with Mulder, just the two of them, quietly watching a movie together. Perfection.

There’s no way nothing has never happened between you.

Sara’s words echoed in her head. It was so silly. Scully knew, even if her other friends didn’t, that men and women could have a solid, genuine friendship without attraction coming into it.

She looked down. Mulder’s hand was spread on his thigh, and she shifted slightly, her bare knee bumping into his fingers. He looked down absently for a second, shifting slightly before returning his attention to the television.

She supposed… she supposed she wouldn’t mind if he kissed her. Friends kiss sometimes. Even make out, when drunk. It didn’t mean anything. She wouldn’t mind, either, if he wanted to place a warm, large, protective hand on her knee. That sounded quite nice.

Alcohol did silly things to her.

-

There she was, head on his shoulder, arms curled around his elbow, fast asleep.

Her bare knees were pressed against his thigh and he couldn’t let himself look. Not Scully. Pretty, vibrant, stubborn Dana, clever enough to be an intellectual sparring partner but loved trash movies. She was wonderful, really.

He could let himself fall asleep, too. Stay here, cuddled up with her. He could probably reach the blanket without jostling her, drape it over them both, cocoon them together from the world.

But… no. They would both ache like hell in the morning. He would put up with it as payment for staying here, like this, but he didn’t want that for Scully. He tried his best to hold her still as he slipped away before gently lowering her down on the couch, propping a cushion under her head.

“Hm?” She stirred, tilting her head to look up at him as he grabbed the blanket.

“Shock horror, you fell asleep,” Mulder whispered with a stupid grin. “I’m going to bed. Sleep tight.”

He draped the blanket over her, crouching down to tuck her in. He avoided her eyes which were fixed on his face. She was sleepdrunk, hazy as she watched him.

“Night, Mulder. Love you.”

“Love you too, pal.”

He leaned in to place a kiss softly to her forehead. She tilted her face slightly, his lips dragging over her eyebrow. He hoped she didn’t hear how his breath hitched.

Mulder skated his fingertips over her cheek before forcing his legs to push him upright and march him off to the bedroom, where he threw himself down on his bed and covered his face with his hands, groaning.

-

Twenty.

She was now a woman in her twenties. It was a momentous day, she thought.

“You’re almost legally allowed to drink all the alcohol you’re gonna consume tonight!” Mulder teased as he filled another bowl with chips.

Scully snorted.

“Who’s coming tonight?” she asked.

“You want the whole guest list?” Mulder rolled his eyes. “Baby, I invited the people you told me to invite.”

“Oh my god,” Scully sighed loudly. “Stop calling me baby.”

Mulder twisted the top of the half-empty bag of chips and whacked her with it.

“I’ll stop calling you baby when you stop acting like a baby.”

“Am not.”

“Are too. Anyway. You’re twenty. Just a baby.”

“I’m gonna kill you,” she stated simply. “After the party, after everyone leaves, I’m killing you. But not before, because I could use your help.”

“You should’ve let me host this party for you. It’s your birthday.”

“I don’t mind. Anyway, you’re helping. That’s enough.” 

Mulder unsheathed a stack of red Solo cups and placed them next to the empty punch bowl.

“So, uh… I know I was in charge of the guest list.” He cleared his throat. “But… you got a date for tonight?”

Scully let out a laugh. Little did he know.

“You’re my date tonight, silly,” she said lightly, tickling his ribs as she passed him.

She rolled her eyes at herself. 

-

Mulder considered it his duty to make sure Scully had the best time possible.

His self-assigned jobs were to make sure the punch and chips were always full, and to make sure Scully was having a good time.

“Yes, Mulder,” she said with a giggle and roll of the eyes on his third check. She placed her palm on the side of his head and thumbed the shell of his ear. “A wonderful time, thank you.”

Scully looked ethereal, dancing with her friends and chatting away and giggling. It was by design and not choice that she always looked incredible, but she somehow always managed to look perfect, pick the perfect outfit. Mulder tried not to look at her feet. Not only did he hate himself for how sexy she looked in those stilettos, but he knew her feet would ache later and she would seek his assistance.

As the late night turned to early morning people began to filter out and it was after 3am when the last guest left. She had somehow ended up sitting on the kitchen counter, swinging her legs as she watched Mulder bring through the half-empty punchbowl and the completely empty chip bowls. 

“Thank you, Mulder,” she said dreamily. “Tonight was so perfect.”

“Well, I’m glad.”

“Come here.”

She held her arms out, parting her legs as he moved closer. His breath hitched as he positioned himself between them, letting her pull him close into an embrace, her body sliding on the counter to press against his.

“You’re the best friend ever.”

Mulder closed his eyes, trying not to think about all the places they were pressed together. He was insanely attracted to her but sex for him had thus far been about nothing but carnal desire, and he just couldn’t think of her that way. It was a bastardisation of everything she was to do that.

But her thighs were nestled either side of him and it was killing him.

They stayed holding each other for several agonising seconds, neither of them pulling away. He couldn’t help but let out a sigh when he felt her lips press into his neck, his heart pounding in his chest. 

Slowly, she pulled away from him.

“Thank you,” she whispered, and leaned in. She pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth.

Smiling, she pushed him away, announcing her need to pee, so he held her hand as she jumped down from the counter.

-

Sheepishly, she returned from the bathroom, finding Mulder tidying up in the living room.

She threw herself down on the couch, watching him with his trash bag as he stacked Solo cups and threw them away. He stacked, and stacked, and a cup squelched, overflowed. Scully giggled at him, which earned her a look.

“Mulder,” she said firmly. “Tidy up later. Come sit with me.”

Like a robot that only responded to voice commands, he unceremoniously dropped the trash bag and crossed to the couch. 

They sat in silence as they easily moved into each other, entwining and slotting together, his arm around her shoulder and her head on his, her legs swung up to drape on his lap. His other hand was on her shin, hot and engulfing. Slowly, he slid his hand down to her foot, digging his thumb into her arch.

-

Scully let out a surprised moan and Mulder immediately regretted his actions.

Neither of them spoke. He continued, despite himself, to massage her feet, as best he could with one hand, knowing those wonderful stilettos made her feel sore. He loved and hated doing this for her. The thought that he was making her feel better, feel good, was fantastic, but the noises that came out of her when he did it were nothing short of absolute torture.

It was worse tonight. He removed his arm from her shoulder so he could work on her with both hands, digging deep into her arches. He was such a weak man. Those unholy noises were going straight to his dick, and he should move, throw her off him, but it might upset her, and he could never do anything like that to her. Especially not on her birthday. But she had to feel his half-hard dick against her calf, surely.

She keened as he ran his whole hand over the top of her foot, thumbing pressure gently on her arch. She lifted her knee nearest to Mulder, dragging her calf mercilessly over his dick.

There was no way she missed the bulge against her skin, and there was no way she missed the way his breath caught in her throat. Her movement had to have been deliberate. Hadn’t it?

She slid her leg back to its original position. Mulder turned his head to look at her, and she was staring at him, soft and insistent. She tilted her chin up defiantly. He knew her so well, and she was asking for something. 

He kissed her, achingly chaste in contrast to what was happening in his lap, where she had resumed slowly dragging her leg back and forth.

She licked his lips and he easily parted them, so pliant to give into her every whim. He was overwhelmed. The years of friendship, of yearning, the pain of watching her go on dates with the wrong guys, kiss them at parties all came down to this moment and he clung to her, frightened she would slip away if he let go.

She was in his lap now, fully, straddling him with knees on the couch either side of his hips. He couldn’t believe this was happening. 

The thought occurred to him to wonder her motivations. Was she looking for a fling? Was she just drunk, making out with him for some kind of comfort? Would they wake up tomorrow morning and go back to being just best friends? He wouldn’t be able to deal with that.

“Mulder,” she whispered as she pulled off of his mouth. She sighed. “I don’t want to jeopardise our friendship.”

She was going to slide off his lap, halt the journey they were on. Too good to be true, as he suspected.

“But I’ve just wanted this for so long,” she continued. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

He had never loved anyone else. She was so precious to him. His guy friends would laugh at him, but he struggled with picturing Scully in sexual situations, even through dark lonely nights, because it felt as though he was defiling her wonderful, ethereal beauty. The perfect image of her in his head. The pedestal he had placed her upon.

But now, she had slipped off of his lap and was standing with her back to him.

“Unzip my dress?”

He was too weak to resist. Too adoring to question anything she said. He slowly unzipped her dress, drawing his eye to the milky white skin of her back. She was without a bra, but he had bashfully taken note of that earlier in the evening. The dress dropped to the floor, and she kept her back to him as she pushed down her tights and panties.

She turned around and she was perfect. She began to tug his white t-shirt from his jeans, bunching it up around his armpits until his stupid brain instructed him to lift his arms. She discarded his t-shirt and placed her hands on his chest.

“Mulder?” she asked. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No,” he replied immediately, a little too loudly. 

She looked up at him insistently and he realised she was waiting for him to take the lead. Shit. He kissed her again, ignoring the little voice in his head that said you’re defiling her, cheapening her as he unbuckled his belt, popped open the button, dragged down the zip. Her hands tugged his jeans down and he moaned as her breasts pressed into his chest.

It all clicked into place and although the voice inside his head was yelling now, it was drowned out by white noise as Mulder lifted her, her legs wrapping around him as he carried her off to the bedroom.

It was all over embarrassingly quickly, and he wanted to cry. Regardless, she dotted kisses all over his face. It was perfect, she cooed at him, reassured him. You were perfect.

-

An hour of pillow talk and staring into each other’s eyes, pondering the enormity of what they had just done, Mulder disappeared under the covers and found his way between Scully’s legs. She felt positively giddy as he used his mouth on her, perfect perfect perfect as he left her with absolutely no doubt how he felt about her. The guilt she had felt for daydreaming about this was melting away with every touch, every kiss, every lick, knowing that all along, he had been yearning for her just as much as she yearned for him. It was a heady concept.

She was almost disappointed with how quickly she came, not wanting it to be over but happy to see Mulder’s face again. Her beautiful, quirky best friend, the evidence of her orgasm smeared around his face. It was impossible to comprehend.

The look in her eyes told him that maybe – just maybe – he loved her as much as she loved him.

-

Their friends couldn’t believe it. They couldn’t believe they finally did it, and couldn’t believe it took them so long.

If it was so fucking obvious, Mulder thought, why the hell didn’t you tell us?

He actually dreamed about the way she looked when she came. The way she gasped when he cupped her breast. The way she said his name in any context.

She always said thank you after Mulder made her came, and it drove him insane. His gratitude is through the roof.

He was still expecting for the novelty to wear off. To stop trembling when she undressed him to stop getting just a little hard every time she kissed him.

He never did.

[pookietv]

online embarrassment (part two!) | arthurtv

a dedication to @casualvanilla into bullying me to write a part two :3

being curious about arthur and his seemingly strange occupation choice, in your eyes at least, of commentating 90 day fiance, you decided that you may as well watch a little of the show, seeing if you could see what made it so interesting.

especially since you and him had been talking much more frequently, playing a couple of games of chess together most evenings, over discord calls and instagram messages

and your curiosity had definitely been quashed once you had watched as much as you could stomach of insanely dysfunctional relationships, exploitation and men going for women far too young for them.

so, with your newfound knowledge, you decided to text arthur again.

youruser: why is literally every couple on 90 day fiance either insanely malfunctioning or borderline exploitative

arthurtv: ah, i see you have exposed yourself to the world of discovery+

arthurtv: and in all honesty, that is kind of the grim premise of the show, a kind of strangely twisted curiosity makes us all watch them fall apart

youruser: grim is definitely the word for it

arthurtv: so are you doing anything tonight?

youruser: unfortunately, i have little plans that don't involve reading so many academic journals until my eyeballs fall out :(

arthurtv: i never even asked you what you study?

youruser: oh, i study politics with a focus on international law right now :)

arthurtv: no way! i studied law when i was at uni

youruser: when was that, fifteen years ago?

arthurtv: ha ha very funny i am twenty eight

arthurtv: ps, you're almost as dedicated to your uni work as you are to your outrageous bishop sacrifices

youruser: anyway, are you doing anything tonight?

arthurtv: going round to some of my friends house cause he's forcing us to rewatch the lord of the rings series

arthurtv: though that is fair enough because i have forced him to watch harry potter so many times

youruser: i've never even seen harry potter

arthurtv: WHAT

youruser: oopsie

youruser: just never got round to it

arthurtv: you need to watch it!!!!

youruser: it just doesn't seem like my kind of thing!

arthurtv: we can't be friends anymore smh

youruser: that sounds great! blocking you rn

arthurtv: shut up you

arthurtv: anyway, i had an idea, if you're down

youruser: and what would that idea be

arthurtv: i think we should meet up and play actual chess on an actual chessboard (and maybe drink a few bevs)

youruser: well, i mean, i don't even know if i should be meeting you, after all you are the Insane Chess Killer Man >:)

youruser: and if i didn't know any better, sounds like you're describing a date

arthurtv: hm that's a good point, i was looking for a new victim

youruser: are you referencing the insane chess killing or the date as the victim?

arthurtv: you can't see me but i am rolling my eyes so hard right now

youruser: okay, a truce on the serial killer jokes

arthurtv: thank god. what about tomorrow night?

youruser: drunk chess and a takeaway sounds good to me

youruser: the classiest first date

so that was that, he had texted you his address and to come round at seven so he could, in his words, destroy you in chess.

after a long day at uni and a slight worry, though you didn't know why, about meeting him, you started to get ready to go to his house.

since you were just going to his house, you settled on some flared leggings and a soft blue jumper, tying your hair into a somewhat tamed ponytail before looking in the mirror, making sure your light makeup hadn't smudged too much after a day of back to back lectures and discussion groups.

he didn't live too far from you, surprisingly, just a couple tube stops away, so you decided to walk, about twenty five minutes to his apartment, in a block of flats facing the river thames, and as you arrived at the building and pressed the button in the elevator for his floor, slightly picking at your nails with nerves.

what if it was insanely awkward in person? or what if he is a weird catfish looking for victims on chess websites? that seemed insane, right?

but your mind was working overtime as the buttons lit up and the elevator door opened, and you tried to unfurrow your eyebrows and look for his door number, finding it towards the end of the hall.

you waited a moment before knocking, bringing your hand up and timidly rapping it against the dark wood of the door.

when it swung open, and you saw that he was indeed who he said he was, or at least who he was on his instagram pictures, you smiled a little in relief.

"arthur! hi, it's nice to meet you, well, in person, you know..." you giggled a slight bit quietly as he gave you a friendly hug.

"you too! didn't know if i was just being catfished or something," he joked a little awkwardly back.

"me a catfish? i figured you would be a catfish, what would i even be catfishing you for?" you joked back, and he shrugged.

"i don't know, i don't get many pretty girls randomly texting me cause we played chess together so i wasn't sure," he said a little embarrassed, and your cheeks went slightly pink when he called you pretty.

"well, who knew that the insane chess killer had a hidden talent for flattery," i laughed slightly as he welcomed me in, shutting the door behind me.

he rolled his eyes jokingly, "hey, based on the way you insulted me with no remorse during chess games i was expecting you to be terrifying, so you can't blame me for being surprised at how easy you are on the eyes," he grinned a little, and it was your turn to roll your eyes in return.

"anyway, come in, honestly just make yourself at home... unless you're worried about losing to me on my own turf," he joked.

"i mean, i'm kind of impressed by your 'turf'," you giggled, "it's nice for a guy that exploits reality tv for views," you teased and he laughed a little as he led you to his living room, a chessboard set up on his coffee table, pillows on either side on the floor to sit on.

"hey, low blow," he mockingly warned, "i'd watch it otherwise i'll conveniently lose your queen piece," he said before quickly standing to go to his kitchen, "i have southern comfort and lemonade, if that's okay with you? it's kind of my weird speciality drink," he smiled.

"well, i suppose i'll have to try the arthurtv special then," i nodded in return, and after a few moments, he returned with two glasses, placing them at either side of the table as he sat himself down on the side of the board playing black pieces.

"so we're going straight for the intellectual torture of chess?" you grinned as you sat opposite him, "the girls must find it so charming when you sit straight at the chess board on a date, hm?" you teased in retaliation.

"oh shut up you, and prepare to lose, again," he smiled as you moved your first piece, "at least my view will be nice when i crush you,"

as the game progressed, there was joking smack-talk thrown between you and arthur, neither of you focusing too much on the game but more on the subtle flirting between each move.

"that rook sacrifice was not your best work," he laughed, but you raised your eyebrow at him as you moved another piece,

"or maybe i was setting a trap that you didn't see, hm, mr. television?"

as he captured one of your pieces in return, his fingers gently brushed against yours and you grinned, before swatting his hand jokingly, "hey, focus on the game!" you giggled out as he laughed in return and nodded.

about half way through the game, the focus had shifted slightly from both being heartset on winning to enjoying one another's company, nattering on about arthur's job and your degree.

at one particular point, you stopped, looking down at the board, tongue slightly poking out of your mouth in concentration as your brain worked as quickly as it could, trying to analyse the best move.

"what're you thinking?" he asked as he shuffled slightly closer, and you could smell his cologne, a kind of vanilla and cedarwood scent as you tried your best to ignore it.

"i'm trying to strategise, unlike some of us who rely on distracting the other to win," you teased slightly, and you could hear him chuckle a little.

"i'm plenty distracted myself, hard not to be when you look cute like that when you concentrate so hard."

you paused a little at the flirting, trying not to let your cheeks flush bright red, "stop trying to put me off my game, arthur," you playfully smiled.

once a couple more moves had been played, arthur missed what was seemingly an obvious capture he could have made, which would have put you at a disadvantage, and once you quickly realised and made sure your piece was defended, you tilted your head a little - arthur didn't often make mistakes like that.

"i completely missed that, fuck sake!" he mumbled to himself with a small smile on his face.

after a while longer of playing, and a few moves you didn't think arthur would normally make, you had him in checkmate, a grin on your face.

"looks like we're gonna have to have a rematch at some point," he looked at the board and shrugged his shoulders a little.

you narrowed your eyes at him a little with a small smile, "did you throw the game so we could have a rematch?"

"i think i may use the lawyer lingo here and announce that i refuse to answer on the basis that i may implicate myself," he laughed a little to himself.

[boredzillenial]

The aftermath of Jake finding out about you and Steven’s night together makes things awkward for everyone. Including the already awkward Marc.

Themes: f!reader, plot building for the future parts 🥰

Word count: 1.7k

A.N.: big thank you to the love show on this series here and in discord. And shout out to @lunar-ghoulie for helping get outta my own head 😘 this is Part 4 to the wider AU series. Check out the previous parts here

“Jake, you don’t wanna know the details.” You gulp as the burn of tequila continues down your throat.

“Oh but I do!” Your roomie grins and pours another shot into your mug.

“It’s gonna take half that bottle before I give deets.” You chuckle, the burning soothing in your belly as you take the second shot. Hoping desperately the liquor will clear away the tendril of shame that coiled in your mind.

Jake takes the bottle from your roomie with a nod and pours another shot into your mug, “Guess we better get you there as quick as we can.” His gaze darkens on yours before he quickly glances at your roomie with a wink.

“Barking up the wrong tree bud, I’m bi but the only man I’d even consider is Timothée Chalamet.” She chuckles and throws back her shot, Jake returns her laugh with one of his own and pours her another.

“And he’s basically a woman, way to stay consistent.” He gives a little cheers and throws back his mug. Wincing as he swallows, his smirk turning flat for a moment as his eyes lock on your neck. “Alright, let’s see the damage.” He waves at you, his best attempt to be nonchalant.

“Omg yes please! Here take this tank top, we’ll turn around.” Your roomie says giddily tossing you one of her black spaghetti strapped tanks. She grabs Jake’s arm and with a tug pulls him around.

You take a shaky breath, pulling off your hoodie and throwing on the tank, acutely aware of the marks across your neck, shoulders, and chest. You glance down to see the twin bites on the inner tender swell of your breasts. “A-alright.” You stammer.

Your roommate stifles her gasp as she claps a hand over her mouth, “ohmygod, girl! Are you okay?” She rushes over and gently traces the purple and red marks across your skin.

“Yeah,” You flash a smile and pull back, “Heat of the moment is all.” You bite your lip as your head grows light, the tequila settling further in your veins.

Jake comes closer, gently touching across your shoulder. His eyes flitting across the hickeys and bite marks. “You sure?” He says softly. You nod. “Good, don’t wanna have to kick my own brother's ass after he just lost his V-card.” He chuckles, but the sound is odd.

The night is full of laughter, cards against humanity and tequila. Eventually it ends with a lingering look and Jake staggering back to his room, your roommate passing out across her bed, and you in an identical position across your own. Your mind flickers with visions of dark brown eyes, Marc’s look of surprise, Stevens pussy-drunk half lidded gaze, and Jake’s that shifted from concern to something else.

You awake with a groan as your phone dings beside your head, then again, and again. “whatthefuck” you growl as you pick up and squint at your phone.

Jake

| Game tonight

| Ur coming

| Marc & I will be by @ 3

You

| how dare u txt me this early after pouring gasoline down my throat 😡

Jake

| I’m out on campus, pickin up bagels otw back in 10, you want anything?

“Hey, psttt.” You whisper/call to your roomie, “Bagel delivery whatdo you want.”

“Sesame, toasted, extra cream cheese.” She groans and tosses her pillow across at you. You tap away her order along with your own.

You

| What game?

Jake

| Hockey, figured since u like it rough that’s ur fav sport right?

You

| u promised no shit after the library!

Jake

| fineee 🙄

| but fr made a friend in eng lit, hockey player. Invited us to a party later tonight so figured we could at least go watch

| u have an ugly sweater?

You

| nope

Jake

| I’ll bring you one of mine, will Venmo u once I get food.

You

| fuck u I’m gonna freeze at some random game - those bagels are ur treat!

Jake quickly delivered the bagels and an atrocious sweater with the words “Get Lit” in bold across the chest, of course there were fucking lights in it.

“You’re joking,” you say flatly as you hold it up.

“Hey I wore that last year, was a big hit.” He waggles his brows, “I’ll be by later!” He waves and heads out.

You take a closer look, clicking on the multicolored lights. The scent of him mixed with whiskey coming off of it faintly. This’ll be interesting…

Hours pass until finally Jake and Marc come by your room. Jake is chatty after a successful day of scoring a new group of people to party with who notoriously have an unending supply of free beer and girls in their house.

“They call ‘em puck bunnies or ice queens? I don’t know but I heard there’s two girls for every guy there.” He shoves Marc playfully.

“And what makes you think the girls looking for a gigantic hockey player to take home are gonna come for either of you two huh?” You tease.

He shrugs, “Odds are in our favor when there’s drunk lonely girls looking for a strong shoulder to fuck.”

“Don’t you mean to cry on?” Marc asks.

“Nope.” He smirks.

You pat Marc on the back, leaning in to mutter “I really don’t know how you deal with that every day.”

Marc’s eyes linger on your mouth for a moment before he snaps his gaze forward, “Me neither.”

Once in the rink Jake splits off to get food and drinks while you and Marc find seats. The rink was only about half full since it wasn’t a play off so you pick a spot up by the glass. You settle onto the cold bench and shiver, “Fuck why didn’t I grab my thicker jacket.”

“I gotcha.” Marc mumbles, pulling a blanket out from his backpack, “as long as you don’t mind sharing.”

“Not at all.” Your face lights up as you grab a corner to tug it over your shoulder and huddle close. Marc’s body heat radiates and despite the delicious warmth you could feel his muscles tensing where you touch. “You alright?”

He keeps his eyes locked on the ice in front of him, on the players stretching and warming up. “Yeah, totally.”

“You gotta work on your lying.” You chuckle, following his line of sight to the players in front him. “Never knew you’re so into athletes.” You smirk and bump your shoulder against his.

He shakes his head and looks over to you as his tone drops, “They’re not who I’m into…”

“Wh-“ your question is cut short as Jake plops onto the bench next to you.

“I see Marc got his blankie out.” He leans over you to hand Marc a drink, his gaze lingering on you. “Don’t you two look cozy.”

“Jealous much?” You quirk a smile as Jake settles beside you. “Feeling left out? Here buddy come on.” You laugh and grab Jake’s hand giving it a squeeze “Although you don’t seem like the hand holding type and I’ve GOT to dig into this popcorn.”

His hand drops to your thigh as you reach over to grab the popcorn. His grip tightens for a moment where it rests. Your eyes flicker over to him, his gaze is fixed on the players , for a brief moment you see his jaw clench.

“Jake, are you alright?” You move to get his attention till Marc tugs on the blanket.

You look and see Marc scoots away so you’re no longer touching. “What do I have cooties or something?” You try a weak smile when you see the unintelligible expression on his face. “Look you can have the blanket -“ you move to shrug off the blanket till Marc’s hand reaches out to gently grip your other thigh.

“Don’t -” he murmurs as you look down, a shiver moving through you at the sight of each of their hands claiming a leg. “I’m alright.” He snatches his hand away like he’s touched fire, while Jake’s hand is slower to withdraw.

Marc returns to his close spot beside you, his side pressing against your own. “Thanks.” You lock eyes and for a moment, a familiar feeling rolls in your belly when his gaze softens. Looking over your entire face with a tender smile.

The rest of the game continues that way, you and Marc huddle for warmth as Jake plows through the popcorn.

By the time the game ends and Jake begins to lead the way out of the rink. The tension in his jaw has you suspecting that at any moment steam will blow out of his ears. “Jake? What’s up?” You say softly as you tug on his arm to slow his stomp.

“Fine, just ready to get wasted.” He says curtly.

“Oh come on, I thought the goal of tonight was getting girls not getting trashed.” You give a little smirk, “I’ll even make sure you leave with someone tonight for hogging the blanket earlier.” You voice lilts at the offer.

He looks at you and raises a brow, “You can’t promise that. What’d you say earlier? What makes me think girls looking for hunky hockey players are gonna come for me?” his mimicry of your earlier comment is dry as he rolls his eyes.

“Oh come on, what about your strong shoulder to fuck.” you throw your own voice low with a teasing bump. “Don’t worry, I got you tonight, alright?”

“Yeah yeah.” Jake shakes his head but a small smile quirks at the corner of his lips. “Come on, we gotta pre-game before tonight. I heard the beer over there is shit.”

You turn to look at Marc lagging behind, only to catch him fluster and meet your gaze. Had he been checking out your ass while you walked ahead? “Yeah - yeah I’m coming.” He coughs and jogs ahead to walk alongside his brother and lock his gaze ahead. The tinge of a blush across his cheeks and ears didn’t go unnoticed though.

Despite noticing that Jake didn’t chide him. Didn’t crack a joke or throw an arm over his brother like he usually might. No, despite walking side by side the tension is palpable. And somehow you’d become a third wheel to it as you walk behind. Hoping that the party tonight would solve whatever weirdness was coming off both of them.

————————-

Taglist: @melodygatesauthor @ominoose @romana-after-dark @lunar-ghoulie @flowercrownonapegion @howellatme @mooksmouse @ahookedheroespureheart @beezusvreeland @auntiegigi @moonkxight-blog @faretheeoscar @queerponcho @for-a-longlongtime @silvernight-m @ierofrnkk @ingoldthewizard

[swissboyhisch]

The Sugar Fix

Pairing: Nico Hischier x Reader

Summary: After opening your cafe and bar, a familiar hockey player comes in opening day. Seems like he remembers you too.

Word Count: 1942

Warnings: Alcohol

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

A new shop was opening near the Prudential Centre called The Sugar Fix. They had been all over social media before they had even opened. People have been talking about it for weeks. By day it was to be a cafe bakery but at night it would transform into a hidden bar. And it was opening this weekend.

The bar theme was to change every month. With events to be held every weekend. But since it was the start of the NHL Playoffs, with the New Jersey Devils one of the top picks for the Stanley Cup, the bar had collaborated with the hockey team. The opening weekend of The Sugar Fix Bar was to be themed Devils & Demons.

But before the opening of the hidden bar, the bakery had to have a successful day. You were in the kitchen early with your best friend and a couple of the other girls you had hired. Music was playing through the store’s sound system. Some Taylor Swift this early never hurt anyone. 

“Do you want to start putting things in the display cases?” Hannah, one of your workers, suggested to you and your best friend/co-owner.

You both agree and start moving the goods to the glass cases. The four shelves in all the cases were filed with many of the cakes, cookies and pastries looking bright, colourful and inviting. From the large selection of cookies to the display of many flavours of cupcakes. Another large display case filled with cakes pre-cut ready for the coffee and cake slice special. 

You walked around the store for the tenth time. Another lap. You had to make sure everything was just how you wanted it. All the greenery in the cafe. The table decorations to the sample boxes you could buy. It needed to be perfect. 

“Everything is fine,” Your best friend reassured.

“We’ll see how it goes.”

“I can assure you we have gone over everything. This will be everything we have ever dreamed of.” They pulled you in for a hug. “Today is going to be great and tonight will be even better.”

Time ticked by and then finally the time came. 6AM. Opening time for the Sugar Fix. Since the bakery was also a cafe, they sold coffees and other drinks. Perfect for the morning on the way to work. 

You greet a couple of people waiting outside the door for you to open. “Good morning, welcome to The Sugar Fix.”

The day got busier as the sun rose in the sky. At around 9, the cafe was bustling with most of the tables full of people. A large group of men walked in. They all looked around, enjoying what they saw. All the sugary treats. One in particular you recognised, the tall brunette with an accent. Nico Hischier. 

The captain of the New Jersey Devils and you had met in the past. Back when you were both 21. He was out with his team celebrating a big win. You on the other hand were out with some friends celebrating one of the girl’s birthdays. Nico had come up to you, kinda drunk, and started to flirt with you. The night was great and you both had a good time. Maybe having a club corner makeout. Sadly you two, in the drunken haze, forgot to exchange numbers. It was a night you couldn’t forget. Well you couldn’t forget him. 

You happened to be serving customers when he and what you predicted were his teammates came up to the counter. A small smile was exchanged between you and Nico before he double checked with his friends on orders. You went through the orders, one by one. Making sure they were correct. 

“If you guys want to take a seat, I’ll bring your drinks to the table.”

After they moved away from the counter, Hannah had taken over serving customers. Allowing you to bring the soon made coffees and drinks to the hockey players. (Y/b/f/n) assisted you with the task. She didn’t know who’s order you were delivering. But when she saw who was sitting at a table, she had a Cheshire grin on her face. Aimed right at you.

“Is that–”

“Yes, and if you say anything, I’ll strangle you.”

They grins and greets the table when you arrive. “Welcome to The Sugar Fix boys.”

You placed the cups you were holding onto the table, specifically the one you remembered was Nico’s. He smiled, grabbing the cup and taking a sip. “Thank you.”

“Congratulations on the playoff spot.”

“Thank you,” Jack grins. “Congratulations on the store.”

Your best friend grinned, “Thank you, it’s a dream come true for the both of us.”

“So you two are the owners?” Nico asks.

“Yes, the creative minds behind everything.”

You both had to be pulled away to help other customers. You were too distracted by another customer that when you turned back to the table the boys were sitting at, it was empty and being wiped down by another worker. 

“Don’t worry,” A voice behind you spoke up. Your best friend sent you a smirk, “You’ll see him again.”

It came time to close the bakery after the successful day. The bakery had been busy all day, customers coming in and out of the store. A variety of comments and compliments from many customers. Now it was to clean and get the bar ready for the night. 

The Sugar Fix, a bakery cafe by day, was now becoming a bar/club. The bar staff had arrived early to make sure the bar was set and the garnishes for drinks and cocktails were prepared for the long night ahead. 

Tonight, well this month’s theme, was Devils & Demons. The room was decorated with New Jersey Devils merch and devil themed decorations. Once a month, first weekend with a new theme, prizes for the best dressed male and female would be handed out. Everyone was encouraged to dress up.

Whilst you were doing some last minute moving furniture, your phone vibrated. A message from an unknown number. 

Can I see you again? I can’t let you slip away a second time - Nico

How did he… “(Y/b/f/n)!”

“What?” They asked as she stood from behind the bar. 

You showed them the message and the biggest grin spread across their face. “He actually did it?!”

“What did you do?”

“Nothing,” They shrugged innocently. A look from you had them laughing. “I just gave him your number after he watched you walk away to help another customer.”

You didn’t bother to reply to your friend, just tried to figure out what to say. Write a message. Delete it. Reword the message. Delete it. Then finally you came up with what you wanted to send Nico. 

You have your last regular season game tonight, do you have training tomorrow?

No, why? Wanna do something tomorrow? - Nico

Well… Are you and the boys planning on celebrating making the playoffs?

Some of them mentioned going out - Nico

I can make you guys an area… Block off a couple booths

I’ll agree if you spend the evening with me in said booths - Nico

“You can do that.”

You jumped at the sudden voice in your ear. “Jesus fucking christ.”

“We open at 8, the boys won’t be here till like 10:30/11 at the earliest. You get to do the open and a couple of hours of serving.”

Tonight’s on duty manager, Tom, leant on the bar beside you guys. “You two, when the team comes in, go join them. Celebrate the successful day!”

“Yes!” Tahlia shouted from the other side of the room. “Do it. You guys have worked so hard, celebrate.”

You relented and sent another text to Nico.

Deal. But my best friend is gonna join us cause we’re gonna celebrate too

Deal - Nico

With the confirmation from Nico, your nerves increased. You had three hours until the hidden bar opened. Then another three until the boys arrive. 

“We need to get ready,” (Y/b/f/n) orders when they realise the time. 

“I did not bring date clothes,” You stress.

They roll their eyes. “I saw what you brought. It’s fitting for a club that’s having a theme night. And it’s hot as fuck.”

“I didn’t expect to have to impress a guy. Let alone him!”

The two of you went into your office at the back, behind the bar. It even had a private bathroom. You both had brought a bag full of everything you needed. Someone had turned up the music in the bar as you all started to get dressed for your shifts. Heartbeat by Childish Gambino started to play so everyone was singing along.

Within an hour of opening, the club was full of people dressed up. Music blasting and the bar was buzzing. The back corner by the bar was empty, the roped off area ready for the occupants to arrive. It made you nervous every time you looked at it. 

“It will be fine.”

It wasn’t fine. You were so nervous you had to hide in the office for a hot moment. The NHL app had informed you that the Devils had won against the Capitals. Their last regular season game. You knew you’d have a little more time since they had to do media and get ready to go out. Meaning 11 was most likely their arrival time. 

Can you text me when you’re on your way? Just so I know

As you expected, you didn’t get a reply straight away. But when you did, it was nerve racking. 

We’re on our way now - Nico

Fuck. Instead of sitting and worrying over the situation, you got a couple buckets of beers and placed them in the booths for the guys. Along with a couple of wine bottles and glasses just in case that’s what some of the partners felt like. Then you got behind the bar. Keeping busy. Keeping your mind from the cute swiss hockey player coming to see you. With it being so busy, you got swept up into serving other patrons and kinda forgot about the VIP guests. 

“Hot date, 11 o’clock.” You glance over in the direction your friend had mentioned and sure enough there was a group of players making their way through the crowd. “Go greet them!”

Nico grinned when he spotted you weaving through the crowd. God you were looking hot. He hoped that tonight would be great, fun. Especially with you. Nico wasn’t letting you slip away from him again.

“Hey, welcome to The Sugar Fix! Congrats on the win boys. I’ll show you guys to your area.”

You lead everyone through the crowd and past the bouncer you had positioned at the entrance of the roped off section. The boys immediately went for the alcohol on the tables. The partners went for the wine. 

“Thanks for this,” Nico smiled, leaning closer so you could hear him over the music. 

“Anytime,” You blush. “Did you just want one of those beers or would you prefer something else?”

You didn’t even have to move because a cosmo was thrusted in front of you. You glanced to see Tom holding it out. “Your favourite.”

The boys all cheer as you two join them at the tables. Everyone had drinks in hand, grinning and celebrating their win. Jack came up to Nico and slapped him on the shoulder. A tray of shots held out to the pair of you. Nico grabbed one and passed it to you before grabbing one for himself. 

“Cheers.”

“To the win,” you grin.

“To the date,” Nico adds. 

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras @francesfarhadi @cixrosie @daisysthings @jayrami3

[mr2swap]

the Great shift:hell called "Chuck"

-Chuck, are you serious?- At any other time I wouldn't mind my fat old stepdad scratching his balls in public, but now that we've swapped bodies things have changed for both of us.

Unfortunately thanks to the Great shift I landed in my stepfather's shitty body and since then I have lived as an obese old man with a gray unkempt beard, oversized soccer jerseys, and this terrible old man scent coming from my whole body, at first I thought it was Chuck's horrible natural scent but now that I have his body deodorant seems to not affect this 60-year-old man's body.

And while I have to live in this hell called "Chuck" he has taken over my life, I quit my job, he broke up with my girlfriend, he took over my friends! I have nothing left that is only mine! Since I got into this body I haven't seen any of my bros in the gym or the girl I was dating and I'm pretty sure Chuck hasn't told anyone that we were affected by the big change and I feel humiliated all the time for Chuck and his new and fit body.

-oh... I'm sorry boy, it's that I shaved my balls last night and it itches like hell...- Since my stepfather has my body he does nothing but get angry, at first it was torture, he kept massaging his muscles, smelling them, and kissing them in front of me every time we were in the same room and walking around the house showing off my huge cock like it was a trophy.

While I have to make do with the dick I now have hidden under this hairy belly and I still can't believe my mother married this fat bastard, although at least she doesn't have to see what her "husband" does to her "stepson"

I've been living like an obese old man for 3 months, and it doesn't seem like the government or anyone knows how to fix this, maybe I should just get used to this…for me and my health.

-Hey boy!, I completely forgot I'll use the car tonight so I'll just change my sweaty clothes and go with some friends for some drinks so don't wait up for me…-

It sounds more and more tempting to reveal the truth to my old friends, none of them know that they are actually partying with my elderly stepfather instead of me. But… Jesus!, I'm so embarrassed that anyone finds out about this that I'd rather they all continue to believe I'm old-fashioned, overweight Chuck.

-Oh! and if you want you can go to the motel next door you know why If the noises bother you I plan to bring someone in the evening and I would not like you to disturb us in the middle of the action-

But that's not the worst, I can't believe that even though I have my stepdad's pathetic dick now, he's hard all the time! And Chuck seems to take advantage of the fact that he knows I'm gay and that he has my extremely hot body.

-But if you promise not to make any noise, maybe I could leave the door a little open for you "Chuck"… of course, as long as our secret remains standing.-

At least "Trevor" seems used to my body and my life. I just wish he would stop being a jerk and stop using my body to get rich at the gay club in town, he's not even gay! He only uses my reputation in the club to bring drunk guys to our house, let them suck my old dick and take the money from their wallets.

Hey! You can support me to continue creating stories, see similar stories on my patreon, you can also join my discord if you are interested in role-playing about bodyswap, possession and transformation, m2m!

[blog-reflection]

ONE / Eighteen - Golden Ticket

Today is the day.

I am sad to say that today is the last day I have with Jesse before they go back to Windsor tomorrow morning. They have been an awesome help during that time. Jesse was already busy painting the wall when I woke up. I rubbed my eyes and looked around. I did well, no we did well. None of the boxes are there anymore. Being up in the middle of the night really helps. I got up around two in the morning, unplanned, but I was awake like I had drunk five coffees in a row. I decided it would be best to just finish up the boxes till I pass out again, which I eventually did around two hours later. 

Jesse: Good, you're awake! You won’t be ready for this! James: Barely..:What's up, fuzzy? Jesse: Fuzzy? Nevermind! James: JESSE THE FUCK!?

Jesse pulled me out of the bed almost dragging me above my desk

Jesse: OK Close your eyes! James: Jesse your hand is in my face. How am I supposed to look anyway? Jesse: Ugh just….just go along pleaaaase James: Fine, eyes are shut. Jesse: *crack* TADAAA

Jesse pop a party popper vire inches above my head while proudly removing the blanket that has been covert up the wall all the time.

Jesse: AH! AH? What do you say??? James: This is. WOW! Oh my god Jesse you are a goddess!!! Jesse: I know, I’m awesome. But damn I’m so proud of myself right now James: You deserve that though.

I wasn’t kidding. Jesse has drawn the most amazing design I could have ever dreamed onto that wall. Shapes of lines and squares meet pastel colours. They even added the ivy I had above as well as the lights on the rope. This is just a dream. Now that that’s finished too, we have even more time to prepare for tonight's night out. That’s right, as a thank you for simply being, I looked up any clubs around town. And let me tell you, this city has a lot of clubs and pubs. But celebrating Jesse, I wanted it to be way over top. Luckily I found one called “Beast and Prey”. I know, the name suggests more of a dungeon but based on the dosent people giving over five star ratings I just assumed it is a regular club. Apart from that, the club is really fancy. Apparently it is a massive building, since it used to be some sort of theatre back in the days. Just reopened this summer, it has been modified into a club. Multiple bars and stages spread around four floors with music for everyone. They even have chill rooms in case you can't deal with too much social stuff. This just sounds perfect. I may or may not have a problem with the tickets but that’s what I have my friends for. Well, in terms of money it’s more Lucia but who’s asking. 

Discord conversation 

@Fallen_Jam Today at 11.34am

Ciao Lucia     I have a favour to ask you. 

@fantascìa Today at 11.46am

     Ehehe ciao caro, tutto bene? Ti piace Brighton? Haha sure what is it?

@Fallen_Jam Today at 11.46am

     Sì certo certo! Brighton è perfetto grazi So I don’t know if I’ve mentioned that before but Jesse came round to help me with the move and all. As a thankyou I wanted to take them to the Beast and Prey annnd…

@fantascìa Today at 11.50am

     And you thought I’d be able to get you two in?

@Fallen_Jam Today at 11.52am 

     Only if you’re able to! I mean, you’re hot so ehm.

@fantascìa Today at 11.54am

     First, thanks, I know. Second, You just became the tenth male person that reduced me to that.

@Fallen_Jam Today at 11.54am 

     OMG I DIDN'T, NO THAT IS NOT WHAT I MEANT BY THAT!!! 

@Fallen_Jam Today at 11.55am 

     LUCIA?!?!

@fantascìa Today at 11.55am

     OMG calm you A. I was just joking, I know how you mean it. Well, there is one thing tho, that you may haven’t thought about. I’m only able to get you in if, well I am with you. Otherwise the bouncer wouldn’t. Trust me, I tried before.

@Fallen_Jam Today at 11.55am 

     How about a really unfair trade? You can party with us with your money? Doesn't that sounds awesome! I bet you and Jesse would go well together, they are like you.

@fantascìa Today at 11.57am

     Bene! Send me the adresse and time and I’ll be at your place. GTG TTYL ciaooo!!!

Perfect. Now to overthrow Jesse. Originally I planned on just showing them the tickets but since Lucia will be at my door I might as well turn her into the ticket. So in the meantime, I got around five hours to get Jesse and me club ready without telling them  that we are going to a club. After all it is meant as a surprise. I convinced them to get into the city to get lunch and then just shop a bit, which they willingly agreed to. We went to a small and shady Italian restaurant. Both of us had a plate of pasta that was enormous, despite how cheap it was. It wasn’t the best I’ve eaten but it wasn’t the worst either. 

After lunch we just walked around the city. Of course I pushed Jesse into some clothes stores before I had the best idea ever. I started a game, where I let Jesse get us two fancy party outfits for tonight. But plot twist, I said it’s a party at my place. Unsurprisingly, Jesse agreed. So for the next two hours we were jumping around stores hunting down awesome fits for the club. We got back home around five in the eve, enough time to get ourselves ready for the party.I wrote Lucia to arrive around six thirteen so we have enough time to get there. Apparently Lucia has some golden ticket, which makes her some sort of supreme. Meaning we don’t really need tickets to get in, only Lucia. While I waited for Lucia, Jesse and I got dressed in our outfits. Luckily, today the Beast and Prey did not have a specific theme. Usually that’s their thing but today it is just a casual club. 

Jesse: You know, that was an awesome Idea! Getting dressed all fancy for no specific reason is just the best let me tell you. James: Yeah, definitely! Jesse: It’s almost a shame that no one can see us. James: Yeah, I mean Sarah can though. Jesse: Haha. Love the spirit but I don’t think that’s really Sarah Style. James: Okay yeah that is fair haha Jesse: You know what? I might make use of that one while I’m here. I think today is the best day for it. James: What do you mean?

I’ve regret anything. The moment I asked they grabbed deep in their bag and pulled out something shining, something magical, something…oh no.

James: OH FUCK OFF Jesse: Tada. A golden ticket for the local best club. James? Are you good?

You’ve got to be kidding me they got one too? I just stood jaw dropped in front of Jesse staring at the ticket I planned for this entire day. I noticed a ringing in my ear, caused by the doorbell that went off just a view seconds ago. That must have been Lucia. Normally I would rush down to open the door for her but I couldn’t. Sarah opened the door and Lucia went up to my room.

Lucia: LETS FUCKING PAR-ty? Wow. Did someone die or? Jesse: I think I killed James

They did kill me.

[salaciousslut]

R&B is one of my top genre's as of lately 🤭 i would love any R&B recs you have<3 I'm better with change now but i struggled for a while!

You really are such a good friend sweetheart<3 also wtf!! Its so cool that yall live in the same apartment complex as one another! Im a lil jealous they get to hang out with you so easily</3 🫣 I ended up drinking two bottles of soju with my friends since we bought a fee bottles and then decided to hang out at someone's house rather than actually go out. I think it wouldve been so nice to have you in my lap tonight. I know you wouldve taken any and every shot i gave you<3 i barely managed to get away from my friends all night

For reals, I hope we both get better with expressing ourselves this year!<3 and i low key call it that too 🫣 but ive been able to cry a little more and actually talk to people how i feel a bit better these past few months :)

Maybe one day when im less shy i'll send you my discord and we can call and talk for a bit?<3🥺 i know you sound pretty, like its just obvious to me like of course a pretty princess also has a cute voice<3 like i know you make pretty little sounds<3 also my stitch impression is a little out of practice so lemme work on that a little more<3 hehe

Lemme know if you like it, i could use some constructive criticism on how i smell since sometimes i think its a little strong. But i know saving up a little would be nice to just spring for some polo red🤭

Im jealous!! Ive been wanting to get myself a candle warmer!! Ive just been so broke lately i havent been able to :( and im also guilty of that!! But trimming the wick also reduces the amount of soot accumulation so im on top of that with my candles 🫣 i dont burn them a lot though! Also that guy was fucking stupid, the person's supposed to like it otherwise whats the damn point?? I'd feel honored if you were moaning cause it felt nice, but then again i was taught to love women<3

I'd love to cuddle with you!! Some ppl do find me intimidating though im not gonna lie. I got like dead eyes until you show interest in my existence, but i think its cute that my height wont intimidate<3 i would love to cuddle with you and your lil blue cow devil stuffed animal ☺️❤️ and im 22, so basically an exact year give a few weeks 🤭

i get soo nervous rec'ing songs so maybe later hehe!!

omg i love soju so much!! i typically have 2 bottles before im drunk tho hehe so keep them coming! but i hope you had a fun and safe night last night!! wish i could come and take care of u this morning too. so i can have a bit of a lazy day

yes discord someday! dont be a stranger okay? youre always welcome into my dms whenever you feel comfy! plus i love calls and stuff! i just love listening to people so i send voice messages all the time too.

hehe yes i love my candle warmer!! i wanna spoil i and buy u one now!!! and yes i love wax play! it just makes me sooo happy and giggly and i think its so pretty!! especially on my tits and stuff. he was stupid anyways. really a low point in my life when i was talk to him.

noooo i also have a bit of a resting bitch face so i understand. plus! ill let u be lil spoon if u want too! i like both big and lil spoon so we can take turns! and cuddle with your shark too!!! cant leave him out of this!! hehe 22 thats perfect! come here and lemme spoil u

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

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The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results). 

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be. 

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children. 

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy 

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim. 

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do. 

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point! 

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus. 

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping. 

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex. 

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him. 

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red. 

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!! 

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling. 

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!” 

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out. 

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, “Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you. 

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage. 

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her. 

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement. 

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.” 

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos​ - @fairywriter-oracle​ - @tsukishimawh0re​ - @ofstarsanddreams​ - @bbecc-a​ - @annshit​ - @leahh19​ - @letsloveimagines​ - @bellomi-clarke​ - @wineandionysus​ - @guiltydols​ - @onephootinfrontoftheother​ - @liamakorn​ - @thirstyfangirl​ - @lilysdaydreams​ - @pan-ini​ - @mxqicshxp​ - @tanchosanke​ - @yoshinorecommends​ - @flightsandfantasy​ - @liljennyx3​ - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible​ - @sinister-sleep​ - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat​ - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit​ - @unstableye​ - @simonsbluee​ - @shinyshimaagain​ - @ppopty​ - @siriuslystupid​ - @crapimahuman​ - @ofthedewthesunlight​ - @mythicalamphitrite​ - @artsyally​ - @corpsesimpp​ - @corpsewhitetee​ - @corpse-husbandsimp​ - @hyp-oh-critical​ - @roses-and-grasses​ - @rhyrhy462​ - @sparklylandflaplawyer​ - @charbkgo​ - @airwaveee​ - @creativedogs​ - @kaitlyn2907​ - @loxbbg​ - @afuckingunicornn​ - @fleurmoon​ - @yeolliedokai​

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[mochegato]

Even the Losers

Chapter 12

Chapter 1     Chapter 11

The dining room was only slightly less formal than the entry way.  It was decorated in deep tones and dark wood meant to evoke grandeur and pageantry. It still spoke of old money and cold families.  There was no evidence of laughter over inside jokes, gasping at stories about someone’s day, discussions of dreams, or fatherly advice doled out over a lovingly cooked dinner that everyone worked on together.

Marinette held back as everyone made their way into the dining room, letting them claim their usual seats, prepared to take whatever seat was left.  She was hoping to cause as little upset and disturbance as possible.  Her plan was foiled when Duke jumped up from his seat and moved down one spot.  “Hey, Marinette.  Take this seat.”  

Marinette opened her mouth to object but stopped when Jason put his hand on her back to guide her to the seat.  “Lost cause.  Don’t even bother,” he muttered low enough for her to hear.  Marinette looked back at him uncertainly but nodded in understanding. She breathed a small sigh of relief when Jason took the other seat next to her.

Dick pouted at the seating, but took the seat across from her instead, grabbing the seat quickly from the right as Tim was just about to drop into it from the left.  Tim grumbled something about annoying puppies and took the next seat over, causing Damian to scowl and redirect himself to a different seat. “Damian!” Dick called out to him. He patted the seat next to him.  

Damian huffed and sent Marinette a glare as he took his not normal seat beside Dick.  He squirmed in the seat.  It wasn’t his usual seat and he could feel the difference.  It felt off.  It felt wrong.  He didn’t like it at all.  This was not his routine.  This was not what he was comfortable with and it was all her fault.  They were playing a charade for her.  They were making themselves uncomfortable for her.

Marinette watched politely as M. Pennyworth set the plates down in front of everyone.  When he was done, he exited quietly.  Marinette watched him leave the room as the rest of the family took bites of their food.  M. Wayne had called M. Pennyworth a father and Jason had called him a grandfather, but he didn’t eat with them?  And addressed them all as Master or Miss?  Did none of them know what family was supposed to be?  What it was supposed to mean?  Because that, wasn’t it.  And honestly, if that’s what they thought it was, she had serious concerns about joining their ‘family’.

She looked back to Jason and tried to send him a message with her eyes to ask him about it without having to say it out loud and draw attention to herself.  She cleared her throat quietly, hoping it was quiet enough that just Jason would hear but everyone looked at her.  She looked at their eyes before returning hers to her plate.  “Sorry,” she said quietly.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bruce said kindly.  His eyes were filled with concern and a touch of worry.  He wanted her to eventually feel like this was her home too and if he wanted that to happen, she needed to feel comfortable here.  “Did you need anything?”

“No, no, no,” Marinette insisted, shaking her head and sending him a weak smile.  “It’s nothing.  The dinner looks amazing.”

“If there’s anything you don’t like…” Bruce started.

“No!  Of course not,” Marinette exclaimed.  “This looks really delicious.”  She was waving her hands frantically.  It was all going wrong already.  She was causing a commotion.  From the moment she’d walked into his life, she’d caused nothing but commotion.  She was really hoping to break the cycle tonight and get closer to the kids in the family.

Bruce watched her uncertainly, but nodded.  “Because if you want anything else, we have a huge kitchen and pantry,” Bruce tried to assure her.

Marinette’s eyes grew even bigger and her movements more frantic.  “Jesus, B. Lay off her.  She already said she was fine,” Jason grumbled.  “You’re going to give her a complex.”

Somehow, Marinette’s eyes got wider and her face went slack.  “No, no. It’s fine.”  She turned to Bruce with a desperate look.  “I’m fine.  Thank you for your concern.”

“Marinette,” Bruce stated with a touch of exasperation. He didn’t know what he had to do to get her relax, to get her to believe she wasn’t going to make him not want her. “Just let me know.”

Marinette nodded rapidly.  “Of course.”  She looked around the room taking note of the pasted on, polite smiles while they took silent bites.  She could feel her shoulders curling in on her as the quiet continued.

“How was your day today?” Bruce prompted Marinette after the first few bites in uncomfortable silence.

She nearly dropped her fork in surprise.  “Oh, it was pretty good,” she answered with a polite smile.  And oh God, this was the most awkward thing she had ever done.  She squeezed her eyes shut and let out a breath.  It wasn’t going to change unless she did something to change it.  “I’m glad you had a meeting this morning so we missed out on the Penguin.  I mean sorry about the meeting, but I think it worked out for the best.”

She fought the urge to openly examine the people around the table.  They had all frozen at her mention of the Penguin, but all seemed to be trying to pretend like they hadn’t.  Their smiles became forced.  She wasn’t sure if it brought back bad memories or scared them how close M. Wayne had been to getting taken by the Penguin.  If they had stuck to their original plan, he could have been able to take him.

Bruce chuckled politely, tightly.  “Definitely a better result.  I would still like to go to the art museum with you though.”

“Do you have room for someone else?” Dick asked perking up.  “I’d like to get in on that.  Cass?” He looked over to Cass to see how she felt.  When she nodded excitedly he looked over to Damian.  “Damian would love to go to, right Damian?”  Damian leaned back in his chair and focused on the food, refusing to look at Dick.  “Damian’s in,” Dick enthused.

Tim snorted but realized his mistake as soon as the sound came out.  He looked warily over at Dick who was giving him an overly wide smile.  Tim turned to Marinette with an artificial smile.  “I’d love to.”  Duke shaking his head caught his eyes and he grinned maliciously. “Duke loves the art museum.  We can’t go without him too.”

Duke froze and narrowed his eyes at Tim for a fraction of a second before smiling at Marinette.  “If you don’t mind the company.”

Marinette looked between them.  The only one who seemed to actually be happy about it was Dick. Everyone else seemed like this was the last possible thing they’d ever want to do.  She plastered on a smile, unwilling to be the cause of discord in the family.  “No. Yeah.  That sounds… fun.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at her.  “You’re being insincere,” he accused harshly.

“Damian!” Bruce scolded loudly.  “That was uncalled for.”

Dick looked at him with disappointment. “Damian.  It is not okay to treat a guest… your sister like that,” he added after Bruce finished.

Jason was tense, preparing to step in if Damian said even one more word to Marinette.  He knew she already didn’t feel welcome in Bruce’s life, let alone his home.  He sure as Hell wasn’t going to let Damian solidify that belief.

Marinette stared at Damian wide eyed.  He wasn’t wrong, but she thought everyone kind of understood the reasoning behind it.  It wasn’t ideal, but it was expected.  Not to mention she wasn’t the only one.  She looked around the room and finding varying levels of disappointment, concern for her, and annoyance with Damian.  She looked over at Damian trying to gauge his goal.  

Roy and Jason had warned her that he would try to intimidate her, likely attack her.  And she guessed she should have expected to defend herself.  But again, he wasn’t wrong.  What he was accusing her of; not being entirely honest, she wasn’t.  None of them were.  But when she looked in his eyes, it wasn’t hostility she saw, not completely.  It was confusion, uncertainty, unease, and yes, a fair amount of hostility.  And wasn’t that the issue she was having with them too?  That they didn’t seem to be sincere with her?  But while she curled in, he lashed out.

“You’re not wrong,” she admitted quietly.  The room fell silent again and Damian looked up at her with a confused scowl.  She met Damian’s gaze and gave him a small smile.  “We’re all being varying levels of insincere.  This is an awkward, uncomfortable, scary situation.  For all of us, I imagine.  Again varying levels of that.  Maybe for you and me more than the rest.  You’re the baby and I’m…”  She let it trail off leaving ‘unwanted’ unsaid, hoping they would fill in the sentence with a more palatable adjective.  One she wouldn’t have to discuss with concerned looks and sympathetic smiles.

“You guys don’t want to offend me and I’m trying desperately not to offend you, but we don’t know each other well enough to know how to do that or what we need to do to ease the tension.  We’re trying to figure each other out, so nobody gets hurt. You or me.”  She knew she was rambling but it was honest, coherent rambling at least.  Maybe not completely, but it was the truth.  And Damian was right.  They weren’t being themselves and they weren’t going to get to know each other until they were.  

“I don’t want to expose too much and scare you away or give you the ammunition to really hurt me, if that’s what you’re going to do.  And I imagine you guys are afraid of driving me away by saying the wrong thing.  And how do you know what the wrong thing is until you know someone?  So we’re all on edge.  Not ourselves.  We don’t feel safe to be ourselves yet.  And how can you be sincere when you’re not yourself?”

Cass smiled warmly at her and nodded in agreement. Jason wrapped an arm around her shoulder and pulled her close.  “Except me. She’s herself around me, so suck it.” He stuck his tongue out at the rest of the family, like the mature, tough, dangerous, vigilante he was.

“Oh my God, Jason.”  Marinette shook her head and dropped it in her hands.  “That’s because I was drunk off my ass and didn’t have the ability to pretend when we met.”

“That’s French for ‘because you’re the best’,” Jason assured them with a completely straight face.

“It definitely isn’t,” Dick rolled his eyes, but his lips were turned up in a smile.  “If you want to talk about him behind his back in front of his face in French, let me know,” Dick winked at her.  “I haven’t gotten to practice my French in a while.”

“It sounds like Jason took advantage of you in a weakened state.  Terrible brother behavior,” Tim insisted.  He shook his head in mock disappointment.  “You deserve better.”

“Who?  You?” Jason squawked, affronted at the suggestion.

“I was going to say Duke, but if I’m the first one that comes to mind when you think of best brother, I mean, I’m not going to argue,” Tim shrugged with a smirk.

“You say Jason is always wrong and you’re always right, so…” Duke added with a grin.  He turned to Marinette.  “Sounds like you and me are going to form an alliance.  New Kids Club.”  He turned his head slightly when Cass made a noise.  “And Cass.”  He smiled when Marinette giggled.

“Let’s not form alliances and cliques or hog Marinette, please?” Bruce asked, the resignation clear in his voice but affection clear in his eyes.

Marinette nodded and turned serious. “Absolutely.  I will not form any kind of pact with Duke and Cass over lunch next week?”  She looked between the two of them for confirmation. Duke and Cass nodded back at her and Marinette grinned.  “Monday?”

“Hey!” Dick objected.

Jason gasped at her and dropped his arm from around her shoulder.  “This feels like a betrayal.  I’m betrayed.”  He shook his head and took a bite of food.  “You’ll fit right in.”

Duke shook his head.  “Can’t Monday.  I have a poetry thing.”

Marinette’s eyes brightened.  “Are you presenting or watching?”

Duke looked down shyly and rubbed the back of his neck.  He hadn’t even told the rest of the family about it.  It didn’t occur to him that they would be interested.  “Presenting actually.”

“Would you mind if I came too?  Or do you not like people you know being there?”

Duke shrugged.  “No, I don’t mind, but…” he cringed slightly, “it isn’t in the best part of town.  It’s kind of dangerous.”

“Don’t worry, I can protect you,” Marinette winked at him.  She ignored Damian’s scoff and Bruce’s choke.

Jason rolled his eyes.  “Don’t worry, I’ll go too.  I’ve never heard the kid read.”

“I’d like to come too,” Dick looked at them hopefully, “if you don’t mind.”

Duke made a noise that sounded like some combination of happy and resigned and nodded.  “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

“You okay with Adrien and Max coming too?” Marinette asked.

“Yeah, bring them.  It’ll be nice to meet them.”  He waved off her concern.  “Okay, that’s fun and all but we still need to decide when to not meet for the New Kids Club.  And I’m not putting that in my nonexistent calendar for,” Duke looked up questioningly, “Thursday lunch?”

Marinette looked over to Cass who nodded excitedly at her.  Marinette smiled back at her and Duke.  “Sounds good.”  She pulled out her phone and handed it to him.  “Want to put your number in so we can coordinate?”

“Absolutely!”  He took her unlocked phone and put his number in.

“Can I put my number in too?” Tim asked

“And me!” Dick exclaimed.  

“Yeah, of course,” Marinette smiled at both of them. A real smile.  Thank God Adrien was right.  She kind of liked the kids… even though most weren’t kids and most of them were actually older than her.  

“Why don’t you put all our numbers in there, Tim,” Dick suggested.

“Tt,” Damian scoffed.  “There’s no reason she would need my number.”

Bruce gave him a disappointed look, but Marinette shrugged.  “Please, don’t put it in if he isn’t comfortable with it.”

Tim pursed his lips.  “Don’t be ridiculous.  What if she finds a cute animal?  How’s she supposed to send you the picture?”  Damian scowled but didn’t say more.  Tim finished and handed the phone back to Marinette.

Marinette took it back with a thank you and scrolled through her contacts.  “Huh… he didn’t put you in,” she assured Damian.

“What?”  Tim looked at her confused then looked at her phone again.  “Oh, it’s under Demon Spawn.”

Marinette gaped at him.  “It’s under what?”

“Dem…”

“Yeah, no,” she cut him off.  She pushed a few buttons and looked back at Damian.  “Not anymore.  It’s gone.  You can give me your number when and if you’re ready.”  Damian didn’t acknowledge her, but he did nod curtly at his plate and Marinette was taking that as a win.  

She tucked her phone away and looked around the room.  “Okay, so, Duke does poetry, I heard Damian does art, and I heard Dick likes to swing, what does everyone else like to do?” Marinette asked with a bright smile.

Jason and Tim burst out laughing.  “Your reputation proceeds you, Lover Boy,” Jason managed to get out between gasps.

Marinette frowned and looked between them in confusion. “Did I say something wrong?”

Dick smiled warmly at her.  He kept his eye contact with her as he threw a roll at Jason’s head.  “Ignore them. Their minds are in the gutter.  For clarification, I like gymnastics.  I was a trapeze artist in a Haley’s Circus when I was a kid.”

“Oh that sounds fun!” Marinette almost squealed in excitement.  “You must have loved flying through the air.  That was always the best feeling.”

“It was.  I loved it.  The freedom of soaring before gravity took over was amazing,” Dick nodded in agreement. His eyes took on a distant look as he talked about it and a smile curled on his lips.  “Did you do trapeze work in Paris?”  Marinette froze momentarily.  “You mentioned you liked the feeling.  Is that how you know it?” he prompted gently.

“Oh… um… no.”  She looked down at the napkin on her lap for a second, pretending to readjust it.  “I was friends with a few of our local heroes.  One of them, Ladybug swung around the city on a yoyo that worked kind of like a magic rope.  That feeling of swinging up and breaking gravity was always heart racing.  And the feeling of falling until the string caught.” She looked away with a smile. “Yeah, I understand what you’re talking about.”

“We have a trapeze in the manor.  Did you want to try it out sometime?” Dick asked excitedly.  

Marinette grinned.  “That sounds like fun.  I’d love to.”

“How about tomorrow?”

Marinette blinked.  The Waynes definitely moved fast.  There was no time to breathe.  Just moving from one thing directly into the next.  She needed time to think, time to process that they apparently didn’t require.  “I can’t. Sorry.”  Dick’s face fell immediately.  If she didn’t have a legitimate excuse, she’d feel guilty.  “I’ll be in New York tomorrow for business and I’m meeting with Lucius Friday.”

“Saturday then,” Dick offered.  Marinette smiled and nodded causing Dick to almost vibrate in his seat.  None of the other siblings ever wanted to go on the trapeze with him and he was beyond excited to connect with Marinette.

“Did they take you around often?” Bruce asked with forced calmness.  “The heroes,” he explained when she scrunched her face in confusion.  “You said they took you around often enough for you to know what it felt like… where Hawkmoth could see.”  Spending time with civilians in suit was dangerous, incredibly so, even more so doing it in full view of the public.  Something like that could have resulted in Marinette getting targeted.  It was irresponsible and negligent.  He should have never trusted the Parisian heroes or Diana that the heroes could handle Paris without him.

“No,” Marinette said as nonchalantly as she could manage, trying to pretend like she didn’t notice the tightness in his voice. “They rescued me a few times and once things were resolved they would sometimes take people who had gotten caught up in the attacks for short rides like that to bring up morality.  To make them feel better.  It wasn’t unusual or noteworthy, just a public service.”

Bruce relaxed minutely, but the tension in his frame was still clear.  Marinette watched him carefully, trying to gauge if she’d used the right words to calm him.  She could feel her body tensing at exponential rates the longer he was silent, the longer it took him to relax or smile.  Marinette looked down at her plate and pushed her food around with tight lips.

“I like unsolved mysteries,” Tim threw in.  Eyes around the table turned to him, most of them incredulous and tense that he would take the conversation there.  She heard a whispered “Dude,” from somewhere around the table.

Marinette let out the breath she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding and started laughing.  The eyes that had been on Tim turned to her, making her laugh even harder at the awkwardness of it until another voice joined hers in laughter, followed by another, until most of the table was at least chuckling.  

“My best friend gets into that too,” Marinette nodded with a grateful smile.  She narrowed her eyes playfully at him.  “Do you end up in all night benders following the trail of a mystery down incalculable rabbit holes until you get crazed and someone has to come and force you to sleep too?”

Tim looked shocked and slowly looked around the room before returning his gaze to Marinette.  “No,” he said tentatively.

“Yes,” Cass, Dick, Jason, Duke, and Bruce all chorused at the same time.

“Oooohhh, remind me some time to talk about the Impossible Murder,” Marinette offered.  Her eyes lit up with excitement.  Unsolved mysteries and conspiracy theories she could do.  This was her comfort zone.  Not that she got into it, but years with Alya had taught her the rhythm of inquiry and questions.  She took comfort in that rhythm.  It was something familiar she could lean into.

“Yes!” Tim exclaimed, an inquisitive glint in his eyes.

“No,” Cass, Dick, Jason, Duke, and Bruce all chorused at the same time.

Marinette giggled and winked at Tim.  “We’ll talk later,” she stage whispered to him.  She grinned at the groans she heard around the table.  

Tim turned to Duke and stuck his tongue out at him. “Sounds like we get our own club, just for Marinette and me.  The Investigator’s Club.”

Jason scoffed and took a bite.  “Like I’d want to be part of a club with that name.”

Cass cleared her throat lightly, drawing some attention to her.  “And Cass,” Tim amended.  Cass nodded happily.

“How about you, Cass?”

“Ballet,” Cass answered with a smile.

“Oh, I wish I could do ballet.  Are you in a class or do you do it on your own?  Or are you a professional?”  Marinette asked trying to keep her voice from getting too excited or invested.  Bruce had mentioned she didn’t talk a lot and Marinette didn’t want to pressure her to talk if she didn’t want to, but she also didn’t want to make her feel like she was ignoring her.

“Fun.”

Marinette nodded.  “I bet it’s a nice way to relax.”

“Not as good as shooting guns though,” Jason grinned. “Or blowing things up.”

Bruce sighed deeply and rubbed his forehead. “Jason…” he started, not even bothering to try to finish the sentence.

Marinette blinked a few times then nodded.  “Uh huh.  I like sewing,” she responded dryly.  Jason laughed and shook his head at her.  He took a bite of his food and looked back at her appraisingly, a happy glint in his eye.

“Right, B mentioned you’re a designer.  Just graduated right?” Dick prompted.

“Yes.  My final project was a few weeks ago.  Now I’m figuring out my next steps.”

“Is that related to your trip to New York?” Duke asked.

Marinette nodded and swallowed the bite she’d just taken. “I’m meeting a few friends and someone at Style Queen to talk about styling a shoot.  And Adrien has a job interview.”  She took a quick bite of her dinner before continuing.  “We’re also trying to get a feel for New York, see if that’s somewhere we would want to move.”

“Wow, Style Queen is really big!” Duke nodded. “That’s awesome!”

Marinette smiled at him.  “Getting on her good side is definitely good for your career. Luckily, I’ve been able to impress her over the years.”

“Along those lines,” Bruce cut in, “I’ve commissioned her to create clothes for us.  We were planning on her coming over to start on Tuesday, so I expect everyone to be here for it.”

Dick beamed at her but Damian grunted loud enough for everyone to hear.  He had absolutely no interest in wearing something purely because ‘his sister’ designed it.  He had a style and level of craft he required in the clothes he wore and he was not about to sit or stand around uncomfortably all day long purely out of some misplaced obligation.

He narrowed his eyes at Marinette.  It still didn’t make sense.  Why would she have come to Gotham if she was looking to break into fashion?  She had to have had an ulterior motive.  “So you just happened to consider Gotham as a place to reconsider?”

Marinette cocked her head to the side.  “No…” she scrunched her face in a bit of confusion. “I never even considered it. Gotham was a side trip.  I had no intention of staying past earlier this week. But things… changed,” she looked around sheepishly before looking back at him.  “I was considering New York or Metropolis in America.  Also Shanghai, I have family there; London, Adrien has family there; Milan, my… grandmother grew up there.”

“Is Adrien your boyfriend?” Tim asked.

“No.  My... brother,” her voice petered out as she called the word and she looked down guiltily.

“Will he be part of your business?” Bruce asked, pretending like he hadn’t registered her discomfort, hoping that if they moved past it, she would too.

“Yes. No. Maybe.” Marinette grimaced as she went through all the options.    She shrugged.  “Whatever he wants.  He wasn’t allowed to make choices growing up so now that his father,” she spit the word out with disgust, “is gone, I’m going to let him decide his next move. He wants to help, but he’s looking for a teaching job.  He’s thinking of doing both for a while.  I’m hoping I can convince him it’ll be okay for him to focus on him.  It isn’t ‘abandoning’ me if he does.

“But, that's what's taking so long.  I can work from almost anywhere.  I’d prefer to be near a big city, but really, it isn’t necessary. It’s harder to find a place he'd like to teach and we want to live.”

“If he isn't part of your business...” Dick started, trying to figure out her motivation.

“We come as a set,” she said definitively and took a bite, staring him down as if daring him to challenge her.  “He’s my emotional support grimalkin.”

“Will your future romantic partner, if you want one, be okay with that?” Damian demanded.

Marinette shrugged.  She could feel Jason tensing next to her at Damian’s tone, but she wasn’t too bothered by it.  “They will be or they won't be.”

“Those are the options, yes,” Damian deadpanned.

“Demon Spawn…” Jason hissed.

“I meant,” Marinette cut in before Jason could continue the fight he wanted to start, “they will be okay with it or they won't be my romantic partner.  Adrien and I have been through a lot.  We feel safest when the other is near, at least close enough to come running if there’s a problem.  If someone can’t understand that about me, then I don’t need them in my life.”

Bruce nodded and gave her an understanding smile. “We should invite him next time.”

Marinette nodded in agreement.  “He’d love that.  He’s dying to meet you all.”

Bruce took another bite before coming up with an idea.  “If he’s thinking of being part of your business anyway, why don’t you bring him with you when you do the commission?  We can have a family dinner afterword.”

“That’s a great idea.  I’ll check with him,” Marinette nodded.  “And apparently, as long as he doesn’t talk about pineapples with you guys,” she gave Jason a pointed look, “it should be fine.”

Tim groaned.  “No.  No! I’m not having this conversation again.” He glared at Dick.  “Pineapple is the most disgusting topping to put on a pizza.”

Dick gasped dramatically.  “You take that back!”

“It’s worse than sardines,” Tim hissed.  “It’s an abomination.  It’s an insult to pizzas.”

“How dare you!  Pineapple is amazing.  It adds a sweetness that perfectly contrasts the saltiness you get from other ingredients!” Dick defended.

Marinette blinked a few times as Dick continued to sing the praises of pineapple on pizza before she leaned over and whispered to Jason.  “You weren’t joking.”

“Nope,” he said popping the p.  “Told you it always finds a way to come up.”

“It came up because you mentioned it,” Marinette deadpanned.  “Literally you’re the reason it came up.”

He shook his head as if he didn’t hear her.  “It always finds a way.  It’s like sorcery.”

Chapter 13

Tags:

@maribat-bdbwm @jayjayspixiepop @redscarlet95 @alice-hazelwood @deathssilentapproach-blog @unoriginalmess @alyssadeliv @emotionalsupportginger @frieddonutsweets @when-no-wings-do-broomsticks @toodaloo-kangaroo @colorfulmongerpsychicranch @iloontjeboontje @wolf-for-life @maribatserver @aespades @prettylittlebutterflie @imarivers8  @ certainmuffinbagelcalzone @ritacrow-blog @unoriginalmess @demonicbusiness @kking13 @lady-bee-fechin @blur-of-colours @kittenmywaythrulife @kashlyn @loysydark

[auramindedd]

I Like You - SMAU*

Part 10

CorpseHusband x FemReader - Y/N

warnings: cussing

notes: uhhh,, idk where to take this series, but ima just go w the flow igs 😭 also,, i completely give up on adding the small details like the likes, comments, replies, and the times on tweets so i’m super sorry if it bothers you lmao

it’s also pretty long,, mostly writing rather than the smau, butttt i really like this one 🥺

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“When’s Rae gonna be home?” Corpse asks, playing with his hands.

“She’ll be home tonight, I just don’t know at what time. Why?”

“Uh... I- I just... I don’t know? I’m kind of nervous?”

“Corpse, Rae is your friend. But if you don’t feel comfortable, I can get a hotel room for you not too far away from here?” You suggest, 100% willing to pay for a hotel room for him if he wouldn’t feel comfortable being here with Rae here.

“I wanna stay here- with you... If that’s okay with you, of course.” There’s a slight blush on his face, it makes you smile a bit.

“Yes, I want you to stay here, too. You can take my bed, I’ll sleep on the couch.” You grab his plate, stacking his on top of yours, taking them to the sink.

“No, no. I can be on the couch tonight, I don’t sleep anyway.”

“Corpse, I’m not gonna have you sleep on that uncomfortable ass couch. Come on, we’ll figure something out. Wanna watch a movie?” He nods his head. You grab his hand, or more so his fingers, leading him to your room.

You turn the lights off, turning your fairy lights on instead. You tell Corpse to get comfortable, fluffing pillows for him, letting him lay back.

You know Corpse would be a bit anxious and nervous, not something you’d ever blame him for. You’re surprised you’re not being awkward or nervous. You’ve been trying your best to keep Corpse comfortable here, making sure he isn’t getting too nervous.

“Can we watch High School Musical? I have the stupid ass songs stuck in my head, childish me is coming...” You ask, not wanting to torture him with such a movie. Well, it’s not a bad movie, but you’d understand if anyone’d want to shoot themselves in the head while watching.

“Of course, baby.” You can’t help the butterflies that erupt in your stomach from the nickname. You sit closer to the TV, wanting Corpse to be comfortable rather than you.

Suddenly, you feel a hand around your waist. Corpse pulls you to him, letting you lay next to him. He looks at you, smiling. You smile back.

“Corpse, can I ask you a question?” He hums, indicating for you to go on. “That one time, you didn’t answer me for two days... You told me it had been because I was too ‘pretty.’ I didn’t believe you, and I still don’t. Why didn’t you answer me, like for real?” You don’t ask this in a bad way either, you’re just genuinely curious.

“I- uh... I’m going to be 100% honest, Y/N, but I don’t wanna scare you away.” He says cautiously, hesitating to go on.

“Corpse, you could never. I’m too attached already.” He chuckles, letting out a sigh.

“I like you. Like, like like you... I liked you before even seeing your face, but after, wow.” Silence. Deafening silence. But honestly, you can hear your fucking smile. You don’t think you’ve ever smiled so hard in your life. “Y/N, baby, say something, please.”

“Corpse,” You look up at him, probably scaring him with your smile. “I like you, too. Like, like like you.” He chuckles, but it’s more of a chuckle of relief. If that’s a thing?

He pulls you close to him, letting your head rest on his chest. You listen to his heartbeat, his breathing, trying to match yours with his. You slowly drift off, your eyelids getting too heavy to keep open.

———

You wake up in Corpse’s arms. He’s gently stroking your side, looking down at you with a small smile.

“Good morning,” His voice is raspier and deeper than it already is. You didn’t know that was possible.

“Good morning,” You say, yawning softly. You bury your face deeper into his chest, snuggling closer to him.

“So fucking cute.” He mumbles, softly chuckling.

After a while of just laying there in Corpse’s arms, you decide to check social media and your messages. Already, Twitter is going crazy, assuming quickly that you and Corpse are dating. It’s not anything you didn’t expect, but it’d be nice if people didn’t jump to conclusions.

You decide to tweet a good morning, feeling good about today. And sadly, very unfortunately, you decide to text back the group chat - something you’ve been dreading to do.

Corpse is there, reading the messages, but you don’t mind.

You kind of, accidentally, and very stupidly put yourself out, but it’s all good, nobody said anything besides Brooke. You all have a drunk Among Us lobby to get to.

After getting ready, Corpse getting his laptop and mic ready in another room, you join the Discord call. Corpse joins quickly after. Surprisingly, nobody says anything about you two being in the same apartment while greeting each other. You don’t doubt that someone will say something soon.

“Let’s all take a drink - to Corpse and Y/N holding hands!” Alex exclaims, clinking his glass on his mic. The rest cheer, pretending to clink their glasses as well. You sigh and laugh a bit, but nonetheless, you’re gulping down a glass of champagne.

“Alex,” You say, catching his attention.

“Yeah?”

“Fuck you!”

“Hey, hey, hey. No fucking.” Karl says, and you can hear him slap his hand to his mouth after realizing what he just said. The lobby bursts into fits of laughter, but the one you’re trying to listen for, Corpse’s. It’s silent on his end.

“Karl, how much have you had to drink?” Dream asks, slurring his words. Didn’t this game just start?

“I had like 3 beers?”

“You fucking lightweight.” You tease. “Dream, you’ve been drinking too...”

“Yeah, we might’ve pregamed an Among Us game.” He admits shamefully.

“Didn’t expect less from you two,” Rae says, adding a disappointing tone to her voice for effect. She starts the game, despite the sad protests from Karl and Dream.

Crewmate.

You pout, wanting so badly to be Imposter. You’re a good liar to say the least, and people easily fall for your sweet, innocent voice. It’s funny, pathetic even, which is why you want at least one good Imposter round.

“Whaddup, baby,” Corpse greets you in Nav. Dream follows behind him, Karl coming in shortly after.

“Hey, my beautiful alcoholics!” You greet cheerfully, earning groans from them both. Oh, how fun it’s going to be teasing them.

“At least she called us beautiful.” Karl says, walking out of Nav with Dream, leaving you and Corpse alone again. You get back to doing your task, connecting the ship with the dotted lines and whatnot.

“Am I beautiful?” You can hear the pout in his voice, it’s cute.

“Gorgeous, stunning even.” You say before walking out of Nav, smiling to yourself.

This round is pretty uneventful, along with the next few. But after about five rounds, you’re all incredibly drunk after playing some drinking games.

“No balls,” Rae dares. You’re Imposter this round, and Rae’s made you her personal hitman. She’s telling you to kill Karl, but he’s innocently doing his tasks.

“I have three actually.” You defend yourself, not making any sense at all.

“Three what?” Sykkuno comes in.

“Three balls,” Rae answers.

“Okayyy then...” Sykkuno drawls, leaving you two alone. Corpse comes along, the second Imposter. Oh, how convenient.

“Hey, Corpseee,” You greet, making it so fucking obvious.

“Oh my God!” Rae exclaims. You sigh, facepalming yourself. “Corpse kill Karl, Y/N kill Sykkuno.”

“Woah, since when did we become your hitmen?” Corpse backs his astronaut up.

“I’m not killing Syk!” You whisper-yell.

“Okay, then you kill Karl and Corpse can kill Sykkuno.” You can hear her shrugging as if it’s no big deal, but literally, Karl and Sykkuno are the sweetest people to you.

“No, I’m not doing it, Rae...” Corpse still hasn’t said anything. He’s watching you and Rae go back and forth, whisper-yelling even though anyone would be able to hear you.

“I’ll call you two out.”

“You’d never,”

“The emergency meeting button is looking real sexy right now.” Ugh, fuck the stupid smirk you can just hear in her voice.

“Fine, we’ll do it.” Corpse says. He goes and kills Sykkuno. You hesitate killing Karl, but he already watched Corpse kill Sykkuno so, unfortunately, you have to.

You and Corpse run away, leaving Rae to report the bodies.

After you and Corpse vouching for each other the whole round, nobody putting sus on you two because well, you sound so innocent and sweet even while being shitface drunk, you two win, earning groans from everyone in the lobby except from Rae.

“To be fucking fair, Rae had me and Corpse be her hitmen sooo, you can blame her if you died.” The lobby starts yelling playfully at Rae.

———

After finally finishing streaming, Corpse comes into your room, plopping down onto your bed.

“Gosh, I’m gonna have the worst fucking hangover tomorrow.” He murmurs into your pillow, hugging it close to him. You jump onto the bed, sitting next to him, playing with his hair. He doesn’t mind, or you don’t think he does.

“It was fun,” You say, smiling to yourself. You love spending time with your friends. You can’t imagine how much fun it’d be if all of you got together in real life.

“It was,” Corpse yawns, looking up at you, smiling as you keep playing with his hair. He gets up, settling himself into your bed again, pulling you into him, letting you rest your head on his chest. You wrap an arm around him, snuggling yourself closer to him.

“We should probably eat something... And get ourselves some water.” You say, knowing that tomorrow’s hangover is going to be a bitch.

“I don’t wanna let go of you.” Corpse whines. You try getting up, but he almost throws a fucking tantrum. Quickly, you get out of his arms, running out of your room, giggling like a fucking maniac.

“Y/N! Please!” He shouts softly, trying not to wake Rae. He runs after you, following you into the kitchen. You run to the other side of the counter. He goes left, you go right - vice versa.

“Corpse, we need food and water.” You say, trying to grab pans out of the cupboards while he’s trying to get you. You can’t help yourself from giggling. Rae will kill you if you two wake her up.

“I wanna hold you,” Corpse pouts. Gosh, he’s going to be the death of you.

“In a sec, I can make us something real quick.” Drunk Corpse obviously equals Clingy Corpse.

“Fine,” He sighs dramatically, sitting on a stool. You grab pans from underneath the cupboards, pulling out some bread and cheese. Grilled cheese is easiest and it’ll take the least amount of time.

As you’re plopping bread into the toaster, Corpse snakes his arms around your waist, snuggling his face into your neck. There’s the slightest stubble, making you giggle.

“Corpse, I can’t cook with you on me.”

“Yes you can, I’ll help.” So stubborn...

You take the bread out of the toaster before it gets too toasted, putting it on the buttered pan.

It was a mission to finish the food to say the least. Corpse demands you eat in your room that way he can hold you. You put on The Promised Neverland, watching the TV as Corpse watches you. But honestly, you don’t mind.

You two fall asleep in each other’s arms again. And you don’t think you’d ever be able to fall asleep without being in his arms again.

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Taglist - comment or message me to be added.

Sorry for not updating, I have to go through a bunch of posts. I’ll update in the next post.

* if you’re name is in bold, i couldn’t tag you. *

@letsloveimagines @liljennyx3 @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @blackheartemojivibes @lo-manburg @walkingonchairs @strawberrydonkey @tayloryorkscurls @bluepancakemix @prettylittlealiengirl @yeetmymood @victoria-a567 @loraleiix @moonlightsimp @jades-bullshit @teenloves @greenie-of-shield @fanworrior @thefvckvp @bigdaddysatan @mirahg @rosy-feels @arossebyanyothername @kitsamii @lollipop0605 @happyyyandcrazyyy @maraudingmarauder @stickystrawberrysyrup @majasophieanna @ilovejjmaybank @starstruckllamapuppy @owl-llie @thurstyforholland @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @in-fucking-deed @a-dot-dev @rjsmochii @boiled-onionrings @neenieweenie @vvenusblue @bellomi-clarke @smiithys @londonskies @16marie @leah-0207 @officiallyunofficialperson @wineandionysus @fanficlover99

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Tags - ignore::

[deannadoeswriting]

Prompt from Discord. The captain of the guard visits an old friend.

The King's Crown was always a popular destination for guardsmen coming off a patrol. Located on bustling Market Street, a few short blocks from the guardhouse and lit up warmly out front, the tavern felt secure. More importantly, the owner, Sam Bosby, always gave guardsmen at least one free drink, often more on busy nights. After all, the presence of an officer of the law, even off duty, kept things from descending into abject chaos - most of the time.

Judging by the ruckus rising inside at the moment, Guardcaptain Lily Trumbauer surmised this was not one of those times. Of course! The one night- shit, no, it was already getting light out. Damned paperwork took her forever! But of course the one time she had a few spare hours to stop in and catch up with her best friend his bar's playing host to every drunken pugilist in Corona.

It couldn't be helped, she supposed. The king's wedding was tomorrow - no, tonight - and the kingdom was deeply divided. Many were thankful to see the end of the war as King Cyrus sealed a pact of peace with the Genesians of the southern continent; others were incensed by the king's refusal to bend to the will of the church and continue their crusade. Lily's opinion on the matter didn't matter; her sworn duty was to the king.

As she reached the entrance of the Crown, as it was often called, she hesitated. The last time she'd crossed this threshold had ended in an argument and while she'd come to admit that Bos was correct, she was still a little mad about the way he'd gone about the whole thing.

The moment passed with her still unsure as the husky form of the man she'd known since before either of them could walk appeared in the doorway, nearly bowling her over with the disorderly patron he was forcibly evicting. "Sorry about that, si-" he started to say before noticing who was on his stoop. "Lily!? He sounded surprised to see her.

"In the flesh," she said sheepishly. "How are yoou?" Her voice raised an octave as he swept her into a lung crushing hug, lifting her clear off the ground despite being a full head shorter than she was.

"I missed you," he said once she was back on the ground. "I was about ready to March up to the castle m'self and give the king an earful if I didn't see you soon."

"I missed you, too, Bos," she laughed. "Please don't make me arrest you for badgering the king, though. You know the Right Hand's my direct superior." Her mouth went dry as the words left her mouth as she thought back to their previous argument.

He chuckled, awkwardly. "Thought it best not to stick my head into that hornets nest uninvited." They both stared at their feet for a long, oppressively quiet moment before the sound of a chair splintering over someone's back brought them out of it. "Was just about to close up shop for the morning. Lend a hand?"

"Looks like you're gonna need it," Lily said, smirking.

The sudden manifestation of the captain of the guard on the tavern floor calling for everyone to leave was enough to clear out most of the lingering patrons. One by one those too drunk or stubborn to follow instructions had their minds changed when confronted with six feet of muscle offering to personally escort them to the gutter. There were benefits to being built like an jotun, even if it had othered her from the other girls growing up. Then, as now, she had Bos to back her up and, honestly, she wasn't interested in being a little girl any more then than she was now.

The last 2 patrons, a pair of boys barely old enough to drink and fighting over a girl, of all things, had to be pried apart before they came to their senses. It would have put Lily in a bad mood if she wasn't reminded of the time she and Bos had done the exact same thing. It had all been a juvenile waste of effort, of course, as the girl had turned them both down, but she could have a small laugh with him about it now as they barred the door and cleaned up for the night.

The work went fast with just the two of them and soon they were seated across from each other in the back sharing nostalgic memories over bottle of something dark and anisey.

"So," Bos said after a while. "I, ah, wanted to apologize about last time." He swirled the liquor in his glass pensively. "You stayed away so long, I was afraid I'd run you off for good."

"As if you could get rid of me that easily," Lily scoffed, downing her drink and pouring herself another. "You were right anyway. She's overly familiar but not because she likes me."

"Ah, sorry to hear it. What changed your mind?"

"She's with child." The guardcaptain sighed. "I just can't figure if she wants a friend or an alibi out of me."

Bos frowned as he considered her words before his eyebrows catapulted skyward. "You're serious?" He swore when she nodded. "And you're sure?"

"As sure as I can be without being told," she replied. "Azariel's tits, but she is careless sometimes. You know she hasn't been seen with any men but the king and the Left Hand since well before all this started. "

"So what makes you so sure you know who the father is?"

"Two- well, three things," she said, holding up two fingers. "First, she's all but told me she's in love with him. Then there's the fact I caught sight of them leaving the catacombs together a few months back. Lastly, the other guy's still so broken up over the queen's death, rest her soul, that he buries himself in his work to avoid his feelings. There's no way it could be him."

"That's... not ideal. Could complicate things with the wedding tonight if word got out. " Bos scowled.

"She still early on enough that I don't think it'll be a problem tonight, but I'm not holding my breath for lasting peace in the coming years. "

"Hell, 'tween this and the kind of talk I've been hearing around the last few weeks out of the churchgoers, I'm starting to rethink my plans for tonight." He went to pour himself another drink only to find they'd already polished off the bottle. "Shit. Guess that's as good an excuse as any to call it a day, huh?"

"Oof, yeah," Lily agreed, lumbering to her feet. She steadied herself with a hand on the wall before finding her legs with a decisive nod. "Need to sleep this off before I'm due in my clown suit. It was good seeing you." She started toward the back door, but stopped. "I have a bad feeling about tonight, Bos. Stay safe, okay?"

"If shit goes sideways, at least I'm out of the way," he replied, shrugging. "Watch your back and remember who loves you, Lil."

"Love you, too, asshole," she said, grinning, and stepped out into the cold light of day. She heard the door lock behind her before she took off down the alley. Whatever else today brought, at least Bos still had her back.

[eryiss]

Ship: Freed x Laxus

Rating: Teen

Summary: Laxus has returned to the guild, but is still scared of not being accepted. Freed does what he can to help, and insists that Laxus attend some of the events held in the guildhall. Over the course of a year, and four different parties, the guild starts feeling like home again. And Freed, well... Freed has something to confess.

Notes: Hi. This was a little thing I wrote becuase I haven't done enough canon-verse writing; that and I want to procrastonate from uni work. I hope you all enjoy it, and sorry for any mistakes.

Links: FFN, Ao3

Part of the Party

The Summer Solstice

Freed was, despite what some might claim, rather fond of parties. Not so much in the way a typical Fairy Tail mage might do; he didn't find pleasure in getting as drunk as his body would allow, starting a fight, and collapsing in the mountain of rubble they'd created. Rather, he went to the guild parties to nurse a glass of wine, watch the inevitable decline in both intelligence and balance of his friends, and watch from the side-lines. It was his own form of enjoyment, and yet it had somehow given him the reputation as, as one of his guildmates had so eloquently put it, a boring stick-in-the-mud bastard.

That had been Natsu, who at that moment was wobbling haphazardly towards the bar, hugging Pantherlilly as if he were his own cat, singing at the top of his lungs with neither pitch nor tone. Hardly a reputable source of judgment, Freed concluded.

Still, that was the reputation he had gained, and he wasn't helping that tonight.

Rather, he was making it worse. From the moment he had arrived he had refused any drinks, had perched himself at a table on the second floor as to overlook the party but not be a part of it, and hardly spoken to anybody; not the most convivial actions for celebrating the summer solstice. It hadn't been for lack of wanting to be involved, but rather out of necessity. This was Laxus' first guild event since he had returned, and he hadn't been entirely enthusiastic to go.

It was a problem that had Freed worried. Laxus had been accepted back with open arms, and yet he was still skittish around anyone other than the Raijinshuu. He had been forgiven, but didn't seem to believe it, and avoided everyone as much as he could. Freed knew that, had he not been forceful with his friend, Laxus would have spent the night alone.

So they'd made a deal. Laxus would attend the party, but he was allowed to leave at any moment.

Freed felt that this was maybe too big a step taken too quickly, and he'd only realised that as they approached the guildhall. Laxus was… off-kilter, and this might push him over the edge. So, he had decided that if the worse did happen, Freed would be sober and waiting to help Laxus with it. But it didn't look like he needed it.

"You can't just watch him all night, you know," Mirajane commented as she walked up the stairs, holding a glass of chocolate milkshake; if he couldn't have alcohol, Freed would indulge in other ways. "You might enjoy yourself more. He's doing okay."

"I know," Freed agreed, taking the drink and placing the used glass from earlier on Mirajane's tray. "But I think, the longer he's down there alone, the better. He needs to be fully submerged without his crutch."

"His crutch being you, Ever and Bicks?" Mirajane asked, and Freed nodded. "That's why they're avoiding him, then."

"Indeed, although I suspect Ever would gravitate towards your brother no matter what," Freed chuckled a little, and Mirajane preened a little at the reminder. "Though I must admit, Bickslow, Loke and Natsu being so close does concern me. They're chaotic enough as is, I'd rather not deal with them all together."

"I think they're playing tic-tac-toe," Mirajane frowned a little. "I think it's only a matter of time before Loke suggests making it strip tic-tac-toe, but it's innocent enough right now."

"Perhaps bring me a bucket of water, I could probably pour it over them all from here should they get too involved in their game," Freed mused aloud, and Mirajane laughed a little at the thought.

They both remained in silence for a while, Freed watching as Laxus had a somewhat awkward looking conversation with Reedus, who seemed to be requesting Laxus model for a painting sometimes in the future. Freed smiled a little, hearing Laxus say that he'd consider it; a step in the right direction already. Before his excommunication, Laxus wouldn't have given a second before denying the request, it was nice for him to be making the effort.

Too engrossed in his pride for his friend, Freed missed the slightly sad look on Mirajane's face as she looked down at him. Because of this, when she spoke again, Freed found himself on the back foot and ill-prepared.

"Have you told him yet?" She asked, voice soft but words making Freed freeze. She continued. "It's just that you said that you would, and I really do think he'd-"

"It's not the time," Freed spoke softly, but with firmness.

"When will the time be, Freed?"

"He's," Freed began, but stopped and sighed. "His life is a mess right now. He has nowhere to live other than my sofa, feels like the place he's called home for most of his life doesn't want him there, and doesn't know what to do. It would be cruel to add something else onto that."

"I understand that, but it might be nice for him," Mirajane shrugged. "He likes you back, he always has. He's just not been ready for you until now."

"Well, if that's the case, then we can both wait until things are a little less precarious," Freed stated, putting an end to the conversation.

Mirajane didn't seem to want to push, so Freed looked over the banister to the lower floor to see that Laxus' conversation with Reedus had ended. He looked a little lost for a moment, and Freed let a smile flicker onto his face before it immediately died. Laxus couldn't see it yet, but Lucy was approaching him. She, more than anyone else in the guild, was the person Laxus was most scared of speaking with. He had been avoiding her like the plague, and by the expression of determination on her face, she had noticed.

Freed wanted to intercept, or at least break his own rule and be there beside Laxus. Many times, Laxus had expressed regret for how he had treated his guildmates, and more than anyone else he believed Lucy could not forgive him. Many of the others had known Laxus before his shift in character, but Lucy had only seen him at his worth. He couldn't believe that she would give him any benefit of the doubt.

He clearly didn't know her. Freed had thought that way, until he'd been forced to speak with her about fixing his issue with his hair – something that should have been humiliating, but had instead been easy, and without complication. The woman was kind, nothing less.

"He'll be fine," Mirajane assured Freed. "She just wants to get to know him, and he's been okay with everyone else. It'll be fine."

"I know," Freed said, not believing his own words.

They watched from afar as Lucy finally came face to face with Laxus. He was clearly tense, face unmoving and words stilted. Lucy seemed unaffected, chatting away as she so often didn't with enthusiasm and with cheerfulness. Freed had often wondered how so much optimism could be contained in a single person, but he was glad for it now. This was good, it was going fine.

Until it wasn't.

Freed couldn't hear what had been said, but without warning, Laxus erupted into lightning. He was consumed by it within a moment, and bolts of flickering magic shot out of the door, breaking it open and lighting up the city as it darted through the streets. Laxus was gone, and Lucy was left with her mouth agape, silent in her shock. Freed hissed, placing his milkshake on the table and storming towards the staircase. Teleportation runes had consumed him before he had reached the top step, and he found himself in his sitting room, with Laxus on the sofa, hunched over, crying weakly and trying to stop.

With a small breath, Freed stepped forward and placed a hand on Laxus' shoulder. Laxus tensed, but leaned into it.

"I am so proud of you," Freed whispered. "You were spectacular, and did so well."

Laxus didn't respond. That was how the rest of the night went, until Laxus' tears subsided, and he slept curled up, head resting on Freed's lap. All in all, despite how it had ended, Freed knew that this had been good for Laxus, and was something of a breakthrough for him. As the man gently snored, and Freed ran his hands through his hair, Freed repeated himself in a quiet whisper.

"I am so damn proud of you, Laxus."

---

Freed's Birthday

The singing was a little too much, Freed found.

Discordant, with its volume inversely proportionate to its talent, it sounded somewhat like a bag of cats trying to fight with a set of bagpipes in the middle of a tornado. Well, perhaps that was slightly hyperbolic and fanciful, but he'd had his fair share of champagne throughout the day and as such was allowed to enjoy his creative side.

He'd awoken to his team making him breakfast – pancakes, pain au chocolates, and cinnamon rolls – before he had been taken to the guild. As normal, it was a loud and rowdy affair. The peculiar tradition of his yearly fight with Natsu took place, a grand meal had been prepared, and he'd been sung to. Very very loudly.

Still, it was a nice day. A tradition.

It was good to have Laxus there, too. The blonde had been present for the breakfast, and Freed had expected that would be it for his inclusion of the day. A month had passed since the summer solstice party, and Laxus' time spent in the guildhall was still minimal. Other steps had been made – he'd modelled for Reedus, set up a weekly training session with Gajeel, and went on an incredibly unexpected mission with Happy – but he still struggled with the guild as a whole. He confessed that their team spirit was too much, and it felt like he was intruding.

Freed didn't want to push him. The first party had kicked him into action, and now Laxus was getting to know his guildmembers both old and new, and if doing so one-by-one was what it took then so be it.

But, Laxus had come. He'd eaten, drunk, and Freed had caught sight of him and Gajeel laughing together while the rest of the guild sang at him. It was nice to see, and it had made the signing more bearable. Slightly more bearable, anyway.

Then, the presents came.

As always, they were an onslaught of gifts, some personalised, others more general. Levy had gotten him a first edition copy of 'The Mechanics of Magic', Erza a grindstone to polish his sword on, Reedus a painting containing all of his team and Laxus in the heat of battle, and Lucy a set of quills and ink. He thanked them all graciously, touched by the effort that had been spent on them. His guildmates really were too kind.

The thought made him look up, glancing towards where Laxus had been. Freed hoped that, upon seeing the forgiveness and open kindness he was receiving, Laxus might feel more involved himself. When he looked up, he saw that Laxus had left the guildhall.

Dammit.

He sat through the rest of the gifts, trying to remain focused but unable to feel bad. Eventually they ended, and the party moved onto the next stage: Gajeel and his guitar. If Laxus' departure wasn't excuse enough for Freed to leave the guildhall and go into the courtyard, then the music certainly was.

Once outside, it didn't take him long to find where Laxus had ended up. Freed had hoped that his friend hadn't left altogether, and was gratified when he saw him sitting on the edge of the pool, his boots bedside him and his trousers rolled up. Freed smiled as he walked forward, kicking off his own shoes and folding his own trousers to his knees. He sat beside Laxus, letting his calves rest limply in the cold water in the pool. Laxus shifted a little, clearly in his own head and not having noticed Freed's approach.

"Hey," He murmured quietly. "Sorry I didn't… I couldn't… just got a bit much, y'know."

"I understand," Freed said immediately. "I'm impressed that you managed to-"

"You don't need to do that. I appreciate it, but I don't need you telling me that I'm making steps," Laxus argued, smiling a little. He bumped his shoulder into Freed's, as if to make sure Freed knew he'd taken no offence.

"Very well," Freed nodded. "I'm glad you're here though, it wouldn't have felt right without you."

"I can't let my right-hand man celebrate his birthday without me," Laxus grinned, and Freed chuckled quietly, lifting his foot and watching the ripples that the action caused. "Speaking of which, I should give you this," Laxus leant away from Freed for a moment, reached for something, and handed Freed a hastily wrapped box. He didn't meet Freed's eye when he handed it to him. "I was gonna give it to you in the morning, but wanted to force myself to come here so held off. So, erm, happy birthday."

"Thank you, Laxus," Freed smiled, taking the box with a smile.

"You don't know what it is yet," Laxus grinned a little. "Bicks didn't get you a speedo this year, maybe I wanted to keep up the tradition."

"If you did, then there would be a sense of irony because you'd be the one ended up in the pool," Freed chuckled. "And he did, actually. Somehow, and I can only blame Mirajane for this, he had it baked into my slice of the cake," Laxus barked out a laugh. "It was lime green. In a few years' time I'll have a whole rainbow of them."

"Wonder what he'll do when he runs outta colours," Laxus grinned, before nudging Freed again. "Open it."

Freed did as instructed, and halted a little when he realised what it was. It was an Armillary Sphere. It seemed to be made from solid gold, shining under the lamps strewn across the courtyard. He gently ran his hands over the incremental engravings, adjusting the device slowly with a look of wonderment on his face.

"It's beautiful," He whispered. "How did you…"

"I don't know if you remember, but we did a mission together a couple years back and finished it early. We got pretty pissed after, since neither of us had had a break for a while," Laxus was a little red in the face. "We were lying in a clearing somewhere, looking at the stars. And you suddenly started naming them all, telling me all the stories associated with the consolations. You kept going, you could even figure out our coordinates based on what we could see. You just kept talking about stars, and astronomy and I never forgot it. You mentioned that you used to have one of these in yer old house, and I saw it in an antique store before I came back to the guild and thought you might have liked it."

"It's incredible," Freed was a little breath taken. The fact Laxus had brought it before returning to the guild was just… "Thank you, Laxus. It's… perhaps one of the nicest things someone has done for me."

"Aw don't say that," Laxus laughed a little, but there was a quaver in his words. "Not when I've got the heights of the speedo collection to contend with. And what did Gray get ya? A monocle? Who the hell put him up to that?"

"In fairness, I did gift him a scarf for his last birthday. Which, with him is the equivalent of throwing a pebble into an active volcano with how long it'll stay on his body," Freed chuckled. "I did tell him that, so I suspect the monocle is his act of revenge."

Laxus made a little laugh, leaning back on his hands and watching the ripples across the water. Freed did the same, shifting slightly and allowing his side to press gently against Laxus'. Laxus didn't move, and Freed had a soft smile across his features as he allowed a yawn to split his lips. A party was nice and all, but this was better.

---

Halloween

"Fuck," Laxus gaped as he looked at Freed. "You take this seriously, huh?"

Freed chuckled a little at Laxus' reaction. As demanded by Bickslow, Freed had kept his costume a secret from everyone, including Laxus. That had been a difficult feat, given that Freed had removed his desk and books from his office, turned it back into a bedroom and they had become official roommates. The costume had been tucked away in the back of his closet for a month, and this was the first time anyone other than Freed himself had seen it.

As always, the Raijinshuu went in a themed costume. This year, fighters throughout history. Evergreen had insisted on being a Viking, Bickslow had chosen an old Rune Amry uniform, and Freed had decided on a gladiator.

The costume was hardly the most accurate, historically speaking, but Freed liked it. His torso was covered by a leather chest plate, complete with straps to hold it in place, a single metal shoulder guard, and a red cape that hung to his lower back. His modesty was protected by a tunic which ended above his knees. He had also adorned sandals that wrapped around his legs, and he'd forgone the helmet as it seemed unnecessary in the end. The look was completed with his sword that was attached to his hip, as normal.

"I forgot, you haven't seen any of our costumes, have you," Freed chuckled. "What do you think."

"It's…" Laxus seemed to pause for a moment. "Good. Really good- creative, I mean. You put a lot of effort into it."

"Thank you for noticing," Freed smiled. "Are you ready to go?"

"Give me a couple minutes to change," Laxus dismissed, and Freed frowned as Laxus retreated into his bedroom.

Laxus had been adamant that he wouldn't wear any costumes at all, because he wasn't into that kind of thing. It was what Freed had expected, and honestly he was happy that Laxus was willing to come at all. Laxus had been at the guild more often lately, and Freed felt that maybe his birthday party had helped with that. Perhaps it was nice to know that Laxus could get some time alone, gather his thoughts, but still be a part of the guild's events.

Freed sat on the sofa for a moment, having to adjust his position when he realised that his tunic had a tendency to ride up and show… everything. Better to know now than to make the mistake in the guild where his friends would be delighted to mock him for it.

Maybe he should allow for another anachronism and wear some boxers…

The door to Laxus' room opened, and Freed looked towards him immediately. A spluttering of laughter slipped out before Freed could stop it, and Laxus raised an eyebrow at him, amusement obvious in his face. He stepped forward, spread his arms to better reveal himself, and grinned.

"Just as good as yours, right?" He joked.

It wasn't as good as Freed's. Laxus' costume consisted of a fairly cheap red suit, a white shirt with ruffles of all things, and a pair of red devil horns. It was put together in a rush, had no detail given to it, and was perhaps to most delightful thing Freed had ever seen. One year ago, when Freed had been celebrating the holiday without Laxus, he wondered if the blonde might have scoffed at the Raijinshuu's new found fondness for Halloween. Now, Laxus had a smile that was almost goofy on his face, wearing a costume that he'd made for himself. Freed couldn't ask for more.

"It's certainly a costume," Freed smirked, and Laxus laughed.

"You know, I'm dressed as the devil," Laxus all but sauntered forward, a good look on the man. "And if you're a demon, that kind of makes me your king, right? And, as your king, surely you should show me some respect and kneel for me."

Rather than allow that comment to affect him – boxers really would have been a good idea – he immediately spoke again. "Say that to Mirajane and I'll pay your tab for a month."

"Nah, I like my organs on the inside," Laxus grinned, walking towards the front door.

"You know that the moment Bickslow and Ever seen that you're willing to wear a costume of any kind, they're going to drag you into our tradition whether you like it or not," Freed taunted as he closed the door and locked it behind him. "I'm afraid to say, Laxus, that this," He gestures to himself. "Is your future."

Laxus paused for a moment, then smiled a private smile.

"I can think of a lot of things worse than that, Freed."

---

New Year's Eve

Laxus Dreyar and Lucy Heartfilia were having a drinking contest.

It was perhaps the only thing that Freed had seen that might convince him that miracles were real. But there they were, two pints of beer in front of them both, drinking as if their lives depended on it. Even more ridiculous, Laxus had been the one instigate it. He'd brought the tray of drinks over, looked Lucy dead in the eye and claimed that, if she drank hers before he did his, then he'd pay for every drink she got for all of January.

Freed watched from above, smiling a little as he leant on the banister. As normal, he had spent the party with a glass of red, watching as his guildmates got drunker and drunker, making asses out of themselves for his amusement. It had been perfect, and he was delighted that Laxus seemed to be getting involved.

"Shit," Laxus cussed loudly when he placed his glass down. "Where the hell did you learn to drink like that?"

Lucy said something in return, but it was too quiet for Freed to hear. She had clearly won their wager, and Laxus seemed to be in good spirits despite the financial loss. They spoke for a little while longer before breaking apart, Lucy walking towards her team, Laxus looking around before spotting where Freed had decided to stay.

He took the stairs to the second floor two by two, grinning at Freed widely when he was face to face with him. He wasn't drunk – Freed had seen Laxus drunk before many times – but he was in high spirits. It was nice to see.

"Hey," Laxus greeted. "You still sticking up here, huh?"

"Best place to be," Freed shrugged, leaning on the banister when Laxus was beside him. "You can see everyone stumbling and falling, and there's no chance of one of them vomiting on you."

"You really know how to party, huh?" Laxus teased, and Freed chuckled.

For a moment, they watched over the guild. Their arms lightly grazed one another, and Freed found himself smiling a little. These moments hadn't happened before. Laxus hadn't ever allowed himself to slow down, to enjoy himself. Ever since Laxus had come back, he'd been more… contemplative. He allowed himself moments of calm and time to think, and Freed enjoyed sharing those times with him. Over the last year, he'd spent many hours in silent company with Laxus by his side, and those moments had become very dear to Freed.

"Was talking to Mira," Laxus spoke up again. "Said you made a promise to her, that you'd tell me something before the year ended."

"Did she?" Freed mumbled slightly. He would be having words with the interfering woman.

"She did," Laxus agreed, looking towards Freed with a soft expression. Freed kept his gaze on the guildhall below. "But, between the two of us, I don't think you should."

Freed froze. "You don't."

"Nah, I don't," Laxus agreed. "Because everything you wanna say to me I already know. Have for a while, but I've been too shit scared to deal with it. Not anymore, though."

"Is that so?" Freed asked, not conveying tone. Where was Laxus going with this?

"Yeah. Pushing away my feelings nearly fucking killed me, and it ain't gonna happen again. And the thing is, everything you were gonna say to me, I know I wanna say to you. But I don't think I've gotten to that point yet, so instead I'm gonna ask something of ya."

"Ask what of me?"

"I'm gonna ask you make a promise to me," Laxus stated. "I'm gonna ask that you promise that," he looked to the countdown clock above the door, "in forty nine seconds, you kiss me. I'm gonna ask that you promise to go to dinner with me tomorrow night as my date. I'm gonna ask you promise me you'll let me show you how much I fucking care about you, and how much I know I'm gonna love you the second I can," His voice wavered slightly. "Because I really-"

Freed cut him off, leaning up and cupping Laxus' cheek with his right hand. He leant forward, pressed their lips together and kissed Laxus for the very first time. Bells rang and fireworks exploded around them, but neither man cared. Freed melted into the kiss, and Laxus wrapped an arm around his waist to pull him closer.

"I promise," Freed whispered, before starting another incredible, explosive kiss.

[limenysnocket]

Attention and Company

I couldn't help myself. @honorarytenenbaum

Summary: Sometimes you need someone to chill with, and that's okay. Maybe that person is your boyfriend who also gets a little roughed up at work sometimes. Pubs can sustain you both for only so long, but what you really need is to curb yourselves in the mall parking lot, right next to a shaved ice food truck.

Warnings: Just some light swearing, a bit of angst, a lot of fluff, and some brief mentions to "raunchy" behavior. This is a soft fic for y'all tonight, out here needin' some gentle lovin'.

A/N: Got some lonely feelings right now. I just wanna hug someone, dude. Yo, we could totally watch a movie over discord sometime... maybe.

○●□○●□○●□○●□○

Today sucked. Flat out. The bags under your eyes didn't lie, and now here you were, outside of your studio, sitting on the hood of your car, eating a granola bar to stave off hunger for a few more hours. Hopefully.

You pull your phone from your pocket, looking at the time for a moment, then looking at your screensaver. It was the only thing that could make you smile. You had your arm wrapped around one of your closets friends, Taika, and the phone didn't capture it, but he had his arm wrapped around your waist. His curls were all messed up, and the picture perfectly showed how drunk you both were by the fuzzy pink on your cheeks. It was 99 cent beer night at one of the local pubs, and unlike the first one held at a baseball game, all went well.

Of course, there was a limit to how much the two of you were allowed to drink, but that didn't stop the many failed attempts at stealing other people's drinks while they were looking away, just to get a taste more. Didn't matter that you guys were eventually thrown out of the bar for breaking rules and coming close to breaking a few faces, you had a great night.

That night also lead to a few other places, including his hotel room, but that end of the story has to be saved for another time.

Instead of staring at your phone for another century, you decide to unlock it and dial the man up. You knew he was somewhere around here, either charming his way onto another movie set to mess with his rich friends, or getting his tired ass kicked by daylight savings.

His number was saved to your favorites, so dialing him was quick and easy. The wait for him to pick up didn't last long either.

"Talk to me..."

God, his voice sounds like one big yawn. Looks like he needs a bit of perking up too.

"I've got two curbside tickets to eat a snow cone and watch kids do loops on their bikes in the parking lot. One of those tickets has your name on them," you grin, despite sounding exhausted too. The day really made you strain your voice.

His musical laughter really makes the sun look brighter from its low position in the sky.

"That's oddly specific... where would these magical tickets take me afterwards?" He had cocked his eyebrows up and leaned against his office door while he spoke to you.

"If this were a booty call, I would have told you already, Taik," you snort and tease him. "So, it's either make yourself fat on some weirdly flavored snow cone, or take your horny-ass home."

"Okay, okay... I'd like to make myself fat for a night, as long as your there," his voice is dreamy, desperate and warm. "You there already?"

"Nope," your lips pop the p, "but I'm nearby."

"I swear to God, if you're talking and driving, I'm gonna whoop your ass," Taika stood up, acting serious when he was just really worried about your safety in general.

"I'm not, I'm fine," you laugh again. "Not even in the car. Sitting on it though, trying to convince the world's sexiest man to go out with me again."

"And you said this wasn't a booty call," he retorts over the phone, making you playfully glare at the asphalt on the road. It's like he's in front of you.

"You coming or not?" you change the subject and you hear him laugh again, but softer.

"Yeah... I'll be there in a few minutes, gorgeous."

He always made goodbyes so easy. Maybe it was because you both knew you would be seeing each other again, no matter what circumstances you were thrown into. But the dial tone still had its effects.

You slip off the hood of your car, and take a seat in the driver's seat. The warm summer air makes your skin glow, and your brain went fuzzy only imagining it doing the same to Taika.

The drive feels so quiet. For a moment, you actually thought about calling him again, but you knew for a fact that he wouldn't pick up if he was driving.

As predicted, kids are zooming around on their bikes, showing off to their friends or trying to be cool, even though they all were obviously teary-eyed each time they scraped a knee. It was amusing to you and Taika, especially when some of the older boys would try to catch your attention and zip past you and Taika. It ended up being a heckle fest in the end, and some kid always went home with his butt hurt.

Keys and wallet in hand, you trek to the small, blue trailer tucked in the corner of the parking lot.

"Damn, you must have beat me here by just a few seconds," Taika calls, rustling his way through the small spaces between a couple of cars.

"Well, you've never been a speed demon type, so last place is your calling when it comes to racing," you guwaf and grin at him. He rolls his eyes and comes to walk right next to you.

"I pride myself on road safety," he hums, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

You glance at him from the side, just to silently check up on him. His hair was tousled and his eyes were resteless. It looks like he had it rough from the start. He had struggled to get dressed this morning, but picked the most eccentric clothes in his closet to make up from his lack of sleep.

"Dare you to try the dill pickle flavor this time," his cocky tone wakes you up.

"Like hell I will," you snort as you finally reach the trailer, where a teen boy happily greets the both of you.

"Oh come on, it'll be funny," he eggs you on, his bottom lip pouting.

"Keep trying to make me get dill pickle, and the next time we have a movie night together, I'm getting the pizza," you sniff and he rolls his eyes. He thinks it is an odd threat. "And I'm making it all Hawaiian pizza." That got his attention.

"Bull shit, you would never. Not on a perfectly good pizza!" He gasps.

"Oh, just watch me, pineapple boy," you snicker and point to his pineapple print shorts. You break conversation to order two piña colada flavored snow cones. Taika usually took for-fucking-ever when it came to picking a single flavor, so ever since the second time you've been out here with him, he assigned you to choose for him. He usually got what you got.

Now, you wait.

You plop yourself down on the curb, as you promised, and he joined you with a long, loud groan. You give him a bewildered stare, wondering if his age had really gotten him this much. He smiles at you through a wince.

"Sat on my keys," he wheezes and chuckles at his own stupidity under his breath.

Your eyes float down to where he pulls out his keys and you start giggling quietly.

"Oh, come on, I'm sure you've done the same thing," Taika says, not handling the fact that you have new material to mess with him, and also trying to get some stories out of you.

"Well yeah, but I don't sit down as violently as you do," you prod his bicep, and he laughs.

"Such a lady. Must sit down gracefully and slowly," he says, mocking an English accent, but he was horrible at accents so of course it was bad. You smack his bicep this time, and he playfully flinches, like it hurt.

"I really need to get you into some accent classes or some shit, before you get your teeth knocked out," you shake your head with a smile.

"What? I think I'm great at accents. My American accent is the best one yet, don't you think?" He smirks at you, and proceeds to demonstrate. "All you have to do is put an 'er' at the end of everything, right? That's totally how they speak around here."

"I would be careful, Mr. Waititi. Could get in some trouble if you say that too loudly," you roll your eyes, and he sighs. Yeah. Things were going to shit in LA. It was clear to everyone, but what could two hollywood producers do to stop things like that? Keep making films, you guess.

"Two, large piña coladas!"

You look up, and so does he.

"I'll get them," you volunteer, but he places his hand on your shoulder before you could get up.

"Let me," he speaks softly, in a damn near whisper.

He stands up and strides right over to the trailer with so much confidence, you're envious. He comes back with two large styrofoam cups in hand, spoons, and a warm smile. His smile was always warm. It set fire in your belly.

He sits down a bit more carefully this time, even though his car keys were sitting in the grass, far away from his landing zone. He hands you your cup and a spoon.

"Do these have alcohol in them?" He nudges you with your elbow and you shake your head.

"As if they would let a seventeen-year-old serve alcoholic beverages," you throw in logic.

"I dunno... ever been to a ballpark before? Pretty sure some of those kids are way too young to be peddling there too, but that doesn't stop people from hiring them," he says while pointing his spoon at you.

"Fair point," you finish, then look at your snow cone. You decide to start eating before it melts.

Silence swarms the air, but comfortably. There's the occasional murmur of cicadas or humming cars drowning them out. Birds would land on the scorching asphalt to pick at whatever crumbs were left by other patrons, before fluttering away at the sight of a zooming bike getting too close for comfort.

Taika will point out a few of the kids doing tricks. He picks his favorites for the night, and he keeps himself busy by watching them. You, on the other hand, are occupied with him. You examine him from the tips of his dirty white chucks, to his frazzled hairdo.

"You look like shit," you mutter. He barely pays you mind and that comment was hardly acknowledged. It was like the air had gone a bit stiffer. He was hiding something from you.

"What's going on, Taik?" you worry. He never kept things from you, unless they were hard to bear.

He sets his cup down and holds his hands together. He looks so tired. So solemn.

"Today was total shit," he whispers and runs a hand through his hair.

"Well, yeah, I get that. I wouldn't have known if you had looked a little spiffier," you say, reaching out and gently tucking a curl on his forehead back in place with all the rest of its friends.

"Look, I--..." he says, turning to you, lips parted slightly, and a yearning sensation bubbling from the tips of his fingers as he rests a single hand on you.

There were tough times with the occupancy you both, willingly, chose. The hardest part about it was making friends, or making love, then finding out you have to leave it behind for a new location the next morning.

"I have to leave... for Sydney..." he says, reaching to gently take your cheek into the palm of his hand.

"When?" you manage, though you were clearly becoming upset.

"In a few weeks. Thor is waiting for me," he sighs, barely able to look at you while his thumb rubbed your ample cheek.

"And what does this have to do with me?"

"I don't want to leave you," he says, tilting your head up just the slightest bit. "And I don't want to stop loving you."

Your eyes search his for a moment, wide and a bit confused.

"I thought you said we were just a fling with--"

He cuts you off, "A fling with benefits. I know..." he sighs again, "but every time I find myself waiting for you to call on a shitty day, each time you rest your head on my shoulder, all the times you smile at me and tease me, I find myself falling... more in love with you." He has to pause to breathe.

It's so quiet. Dangerously quiet.

"What happens if I love you too...?" you muster your courage, and look right into his expressive, brown eyes.

"I don't know," he says to you, thumb still rubbing circles.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" you breathe, and he nods.

Still as statues, you wait for words to touch the air. It's only when his foot makes a wrong move and knocks over his snow cone, does the tension break.

His bottom lip pouts for him again and you quietly pick his spoon up off the ground. You clean it on your shirt and hand it to him, all before taking your cup, and holding it out to share. He smiles down at you, taking his spoon from your hand and sticking it into the shaved ice.

Your head leans against his shoulder when the sun disappears behind the mall building.

"I love you too," you whisper.

"I know," he says back, sucking at the tip of his spoon.

"Think we can keep this up over the phone?" you ask, wondering about a brief virtual relationship, just until one of you catches a break.

"Guess there's only one way to find out, huh?" he says, lowering his spoon, wrapping his arm around you, and giving you his full attention.

[comelylust]

Workmates

That's right I deliver what I promise, Request through my discord, Anon asked for some Miguel with plot so I made a plot attempt haha. if you find spelling or grammatical errors sorry I do this from a tablet 👀read the warnings 👀.  

Warnings: Smut content, +18, street fights, mentions of alcoholic beverages.

 "Ugh I really can't stand it" You mention this to your boss with an irritation in your voice, pacing back and forth with both hands on your head "how the hell are you two friends?! it's so... agh"  

Seeing how frustrated you were all your boss did was scoff at it, he continues to clean the glasses and arrange them on the shelves in the back, he looked like he really didn't care that two of his workers don't get along as well as he would like.  

"You're just stressed, go take a break" Your boss laughed, gesturing towards the employee door where you already knew who was there, Miguel, chances are he was listening to everything, instead instead of embarrassing you your anger continued to rise.

"He's a nice guy, you're just not used to his temperament."  

He's right, you still don't know him well enough just a couple of months ago you moved to Spain for personal reasons, but let's say things were getting difficult and you decided to venture to a new destination in search of opportunities, at first you didn't know where you were going, you were coming and going without a previously planned route, this didn't bother you at all you felt better about yourself above all you felt free for the first time in your life.  

On one of your countless trips you heard a group of strangers talking about a certain wrestling tournament which caught your interest. You decided to join that event after they finished their talk, grabbed your stuff and headed to a new country.  

When you finally arrived in Spain the first thing you did was to look for a temporary job, difficult at first you didn't have the necessary documentation to back up your identity, yeah shit, it wasn't the best idea to leave with nothing but your passport.

You continued your search now in the slums of that country, hoping that someone would offer you help, instead the only thing they offered you was endless fights showing the wimps not to mess with you, earning you a little respect from the locals.  

"Strange" You thought "People usually loathe people like me".

It didn't take you long to figure out the reason why the inhabitants were so used to subjects of your ilk. Miguel Caballero Rojo, a subject without a shred of compassion when it came to street fights, was brutal and violent making his opponents regret it on the spot.

Going to where he always made his appearances you found on the way an old cantina: on the outside it was crumbling, but the old letters of the place were still visible. Entering with your best hard face you asked about that mysterious man, without receiving a clear answer, again you let out a disappointed sigh and a pout formed on your lips.

"Hey, don't be so sad" A middle aged man catches your attention offering you a drink which you cheerfully accept "You're not from here are you, cutie?" Your eyes widen like saucers when he found out you're just an outsider, without taking the drink away from your lips you nodded.  

"Well, I need a bartender so why don't you stay for a while while you wait for him" He offers the old rag along with the apron, you were in doubt, but you really needed this job, the opportunity to work and hit on a guy sounded exquisite without hesitating a second longer you made your decision.  

"Okay I accept, just for a while".  

"I'm Daniel by the way" The old man who is now your boss mentions it.

You worked in that bar for the next few weeks, you didn't do much, just make drinks and take out old creeps trying to be smart. Now the main issue, if you met Miguel, yes, he really looked violent, and yes he had hated you.

When he first walked into the bar he was fuming, his nostrils flared, his muscles tensed and the fingers on his hands were crusted with dried blood, in short he's pissed, to add more to the mix you lunged at him with incredible speed that even Miguel himself was taken by surprise.

"What the fuck" He exclaims as his head face down is resting on the dirty floor, you crossed his wrists and paralyzed him with a knee on his back "Get the fuck down, what's wrong with you".  

"It's nothing personal just that I liked the idea of defeating the best fighter in this neighborhood" You licked your lips forming a fuzzy smile of joy. Miguel tries to move, but you strengthen your grip, raising your hand now in the shape of a fist ready to punch him in the Spaniard's face, until someone interrupts you.

 🌒🌕🌘

 "Sorry Daniel" You fiddle with your fingers as the pout returns to your face along with a blush forming on your cheeks. "B-but you already knew what my plan was!"

"Plan?! What's going on Daniel, are you conspiring with this Chiquilla?" Miguel points at both of you accusingly, scratching the back of his neck furiously.

"Eeh, who are you calling a chiquilla, brat?"

"The only person who is behaving like a brat is you" The two begin a verbal sparring match with overly childish insults. Daniel for his part lets out a loud sigh catching both of their attention.

"You both are behaving like brats, Now Miguel she is the new Bartender she will work here for a while be nice" The last sentence was thrown remarking that she will behave "Same goes for you, Be nice he is your co-worker"

"Coworkers!? That if ever!" Both mention at the same time throwing each other murderous looks.

And here we are back where we left off at the beginning. Working with Miguel was annoying, he is always drunk, when he is lucid he gets in a bad mood and even starts fights for stupid reasons, the problem is when you have to interfere when things get too intense, this didn't bother you, you were annoyed by the idea of saving his ass.

Instead of thanking you he starts a useless fight questioning why you helped him and all the crap you decided for your and Daniel's mental health more than anything else for your boss it's better to ignore him.

But what happened?  

You were not a sports fan, much less a soccer fan, however since you arrived to this place the only thing that the bar TV broadcasts was soccer, getting used to it, you noticed that Miguel on special occasions wears a jersey of his favorite team, your lips curved into a cheshire smile at the prank you were going to do, your plan is only to support the opposing team for no apparent reason, this would annoy Miguel as a "revenge" for what he had put you through.

Tonight you put your new plan into practice, you borrowed a t-shirt from the opposing team that is playing tonight, you put it on by buttoning every button, oddly enough this shirt highlights your beautiful figure, accentuating your breasts and molding to your abdomen/torso, you hope no one notices this, but who the fuck cares, you look great.  

The bar is more crowded than it normally is, you complained about the smell it smelled too much like Cologne, alcohol and sweat hopefully your brain will adapt to it. You headed to your work station serving the drinks to their respective buyers. Until you saw him come in of course with his charming outfit, fuck, you have to admit the man is hot, his manly appearance and his well toned and thick muscles soaked with a light layer of sweat would make anyone drool, unfortunately this was his only virtue.

He gave you a small smile and of course foolishly you returned it, you shook your head forcibly bringing yourself back to reality and remembering the reason why you had decided to do this in the first place.  

"Are you kidding me?" he approaches you intimidating as always, the difference is this time his voice framed mockery as if he knew what you were trying to do.

"What are you talking about, I'm just working" you bite your inner cheek avoiding emitting a laugh, You poured him a pitcher of beer waiting for him to forget the topic of conversation.  

"Yeah right, I know what you're planning, cutie" He takes a long swig of the drink wiping the rest of it off with his arm "And it's not going to work" He winks at you you roll your eyes so much you're able to see your brain, it really is unbearable.

As the night continues, Miguel continues to make fun of you and how your "shitty" team is losing, the strange thing is that you ended up joining him, drinking the whole keg of beer answering his comments with sarcastic remarks.  

You were wrong to think that his only quality is being a handsome man when you noticed that his resistance to alcohol is quite high happened exactly with you, your resistance to alcohol was the best, however, the drinks were doing in you a kind of aphrodisiac turning you hotter as you kept talking to Miguel.

"How about...if we go to the back" your voice comes out smaller than you would have liked you play again with your fingers waiting for an answer, instead he didn't give you one he just grabbed your bicep with his hand and dragged you to the employee only room.  

Before partially closing the door, his free hand wrapped around your jaw pulling you closer to him in a hot kiss, intertwining their tongues licking every part he could, he pushed you into the room closing the door behind you. He connected his lips this time on your neck leaving you with purple and bite marks.

 He held your wrists guiding you to the lounge chair obediently sitting there, still kissing you enjoying your taste despite the bad beer you had chosen.  

"Apparently you're not a rough girl anymore" Separating slightly so he could speak.  

"H-hush don't ruin the moment" You turned into a red, stuttering mess, all Miguel did is smile at you and get up from the seat, your mind raced hoping he wouldn't leave.

"On your knees" His hoarser than normal voice made you shudder and let out a low moan, he had never been so dominant and you would be lying if you didn't say you didn't like it. You quickly went down on your knees looking up at him with eyes clouded in lust.

"Fuck" Solo said unbuttoning his pants, you helped by pulling them down along with his boxers "I'm going to punish you for being a spoiled brat."

 You finally released his cock from its confines, you gasped at the sight previously you could picture it, but your mind didn't do it justice, it's big with veins that framed its outline the red tip was already dripping pre-semen, you licked your lips and included its head between your lips, giving kitten licks.

 "Stop teasing" He growled, you opened your mouth wider with your tongue hanging out, shoving his cock in your mouth touching your throat, you looked up as you gagged which made him let out a guttural gasp.

You pulled back pulling his cock partially out before thrusting harder into your throat, you moan and the vibrations you throw are so delicious he can't take it. Getting rid of his remaining clothes he continued to pound your throat rapidly as he watched your face fill with tears and you try to breathe through your nose so you don't choke.  

"Will you stop teasing?" your eyebrows flex in anger, but this action doesn't last that long, still gagging on his cock you nod energetically. "Good girl."

Thick, hot ropes sprouted from his cock covering your mouth, trying to swallow as much as possible. Inhaling and exhaling heavily catching your breath, you struggled to stand up before Miguel lifted you up placing you face down on the couch climbing behind you, your instinct was to raise your ass and spreading your legs apart, giving him a perfect view of your already slippery pussy.

 Miguel looked at you with carnal hunger re licking his lips as he looked at your innocent form, his palm slapping against your ass in a thud, you squealed as you felt another series of spanks follow leaving your buttocks red.  

 "Remember it's your punishment pretty girl."  

He rubs his fingers over your wet folds and plunges a finger inside you, you yelp at the sudden action pulling away, Miguel firmly holds your hips so as not to go any further and continues to plunge his fingers stretching your tight walls.  

"Easy I'm getting you ready" Miguel works on your sex pulling his fingers in and out "She's too tight".  

Your legs trembled with excitement and your moans echoed in the room loudly, before you could come he pulled away from you collecting your essence smearing it on his long shaft lubricating it.  

The tip of his cock rubbed between your folds teasing your entrance, you moaned needy moving close to him.

"Don't tease" you pout and he teases you, he pushes his member slowly into your pussy. The sensation of your walls squeezing his cock made him throw his head back as you rolled your eyes at the bliss of being filled.  

Miguel pulled your hair back into a ponytail using it as leverage to go faster and deeper, the lewd noises you make are music to his ears instigating him to move.

You could feel every part of his thick cock and how it exquisitely hits that rubbery spot inside you, through your mouth overflowing saliva and your eyes still rolling back. Your walls tremble giving hints of your come.

"Cum on my cock pretty girl" his voice a few octaves lower brings you to the edge, a lewd moan escapes your sweet lips and he quickens his pace chanting your name between curses, his load shoots inside your sex painting them white.

He pulls out of you and you both catch your breath. When you realize what has just happened your face turns red and you try to hide it between the cushions of the couch. Miguel notices this and pats your head.

 "So..." You say shyly.

"Then I'll ask you out, mi amor."  

"W-what?!"  

"Ha, I really love your temper."  

"Idiota" this wasn't the plan nor much less the expected result but you're happy.

I must improve on the fast way it ended haha I hope you liked it.  

[dapandapod]

Lambert the lark

On Ao3 here! 

This one is for @mayastormborn, because singing Lambert and because Lambert looking very much indeed like Paul Bullion with his curly hair and fancy beard. I had fun.

Beware the swearing and actually rather filthy songs that Lambert likes. Oh and a surprise sentimental thing in the middle there.  It was supposed to be a 5+1 but writing is hard so it turned into a 4+1. Please enjoy!

1. The bar

Let it be known Lambert likes to sing. Let it be known that when Lambert is drunk, he sings very loud.

Most patrons of the tavern he favours in the little shit town Mulbrydale, they know.

Most people living close to the tavern know too. And all the horses in the stable behind the tavern.

Yes, it is known that Lambert likes to sing.

The poor bard entertaining for the night is looking rather exasperated, and there is a bet going on in the corner when the bard actually will just march out. Lambert couldn’t care less. Earlier that day he got paid for a job well done, a basilisk tormenting the locals' livestock decapitated and shoved into the eldermans face.

It was glorious.

So it only makes sense to have a glorious finish, beer foam stuck in his mustache and voice roaring louder that the poor blond lad trying to play his lute. How the fuck does the loud drunk ginger know every song?!

It takes another three tries at a ballad until the bard gives up. Or rather, explodes.

“IF YOU ARE SO KEEN ON SINGING WHY DON’T YOU TAKE THE FUCKING STAGE?!” He screams at Lambert.

Money changes hand in the corner, the bard storms out, and Lambert takes the stage.

Let it be known that Lambert loves Fishmongers Daughter and knows all 27 verses.

Let it be known Lambert still did a better job pissdrunk than the actual bard.

2. The bath

Hot springs are the best thing ever. Really, nothing is as good as settling in to one of the stone pools and soaking in the slightly-too-hot water. Best thing those fuckers funding Kaer Morhen back in the days ever did.

Lambert leans back against the stone, his angry orange locks curling even tighter in the steam. In the next pool over sits Jaskier and Eskel, Geralt is still wrestling with his towel by the wall.

“Hot springs are the best thing ever.” Lambert says, voicing his thoughts. If the moan from Jaskier is anything to go by, he agrees.

“Move over.” Geralt mutters after finally being defeated by the towel.

Lambert opens an eye to peer at him, then spreads his arms across the edge of the pool and closes his eyes again.

“Asshole.” Geralt says fondly, then proceeds to climb over Lambert to get down into the pool.

Stark naked.

Lucky Lambert wasn’t looking, because otherwise it wouldn’t have been Geralt calling Lambert names, but Geralt instead declaring what Lambert was seeing.

“Aaaasshoooooleee.” Lambert sings, his voice bouncing around the walls, giving it a rather otherworldly feel.

“Oooh, nice resonance! Do it again!” Jaskier sits up a little straighter.

Lambert smirks and peeks at a glaring Geralt who now is soaking too.

“Aaassshoooooooolee.” Lambert sings again, and Jaskier joins him, harmonizing. It sounds lovely, so they do it again and again, creating a little melody.

“Please.” Geralt huffs, but he is smiling.

“Nah, I rather like it.” Eskel says agreeably, and really, if Geralt dislikes it Lambert has to continue. Those are the rules.

They experiment a bit with tempo, making it canon, Lambert taking a really low note that Jaskier can only barely meet, and oh the discord of that note sounds great too.

“I'm going to steal your job.” Lambert declares to Jaskier, when they dry off. “Im going to get so much fucking coin.”

Jaskier only snorts.

“I would like to see you try.” He says, amused.

Oh, little bard, you just wait.

3. The night

Silence is different in the woods. Especially at night. The way that everything is asleep, even the trees quieter than in the day. The fire crackles merrily anyway, the wood popping and fizzing. Lambert is feeling a little forlorn, he sits close to the fire and stares at the flames, hugging his knees to his chest.

Aiden is half laying on his bedroll next to him, working on a leather braid for his saddlebags.

It is strange, Aiden is right there, but Lambert feels lonely.

Achingly alone, small among the giant trees, old in a world that forever is new.

His mother died long ago. But her voice comes to him, words half forgotten and a melody that reminds him of honey and of sleep. Before he realize it, its leaking out.

He is humming, a deep murmur in his chest. He can see Aiden look up at him from the corner of his eye, but he keeps his eyes on the flame. Idly he drags his chin back and forth on his freckled arm, letting his beard scratch and soothe him. The heat of the flames feels good, his back too cold in contrast.

“What is that song?” Aiden asks quietly, he, too, afraid to disturb the night.

Lambert finally looks over at him, the light dancing on his face, making his hair look like its own fire.

“I don’t really know. My mother sang it to me.” Lambert never speaks of her. But this is Aiden, and the world is sleeping, and he tastes honey.

“Will you sing it for me?” Aiden asks, of course he does. This is why Aiden is here.

The words are old, the language has long since changed. He sings of rolling hills and budding flowers, of rivers feeling lonely and luring travelers into their cold embrace. He wonders if that is how drowners came to be.

Aiden watches him all the while, the braid still in his hands. Lambert watches the fire, sings lowly into the night.

It feels good, singing her song to the darkness. It feels ever better when he stops and peeks through his locks at Aiden.

Aidens face is hard to read, but his actions are not.

“Get over here, wolf.”

With Aidens arms around him, with the taste of honey on his lips, the crackling of fire behind him, Lambert joins the forest in its slumber.

4. The fight

It’s raining, fuck, it’s pouring down. Thunder is rumbling ahead, the raindrops fat and absolutely much wetter than rain has any right to be. They are soaked, the drop bounce off the armor, the weapons get slippery in their grip, their hair sticks to their faces and necks.

Geralt hates it. As they fight the griffin, he grumbles and mutters.

Lambert thinks he is being dramatic, really, it’s just some water. (Though, to be fair, it’s easy to be positive when Geralt is so extremely cranky. If Lambert was alone, he would be just as miserable, if not worse.)

The griffin is very big, and very angry.

It swoops down from the sky, Lambert aims with a crossbow at it’s wings.

“One little griffin were going shopping in town” he sings, clenching one eye closed while aiming. The griffin flies right above him, his talons inches from where his head was just a moment ago. Lambert swirls around untroubled, and aims again.

“But there came a Lambert, and shot it down.” Water is dripping from his eyebrows, eyelashes, running down his cheeks, but it doesn’t matter.

The shot is clean, it hits the target and a loud shriek announces that the griffin felt it too.

“Stop that! You are just pissing it off!” Geralt yells from the other side of the field, ducking from said pissed off griffin. Lambert smirks, shoving his hair out of his face with the crook of his arm, water sloshing everywhere.

It is a small miracle that he still has a grip on the crossbow. They charge the now grounded griffin, splitting up to make things difficult for it.

“ONE LITTLE GRIFFIN IS FEELING FEELING A LITTLE CRANKY!” Lambert sings, or rather howls, swinging his sword in a tight arc, aiming for the griffins flank. From the other side of the beast, Lambert can hear Geralt harumph in annoyance. It’s fun to work with family.

“BUT THERE CAME A LAMBERT AND-” Here Lambert has to pause.

He even takes a step away, scratching at his wet beard thoughtfully. He turns and yells towards a small grove of trees.

“JASKIER?! WHAT THE FUCK RHYMES WITH CRANKY??”

“Lambert come on!” Geralt yells, and yes, alright, fair.

“OH, NEVER MIND! I GOT IT! BUT THERE CAME A LAMBERT, HE GOTTA HELP GERALT, OR AIDEN WON’T GIVE HIM HANKY PANKY!”

“Wow! A true poet!” Geralt yells again over the shriek of the Griffin. “Now come help me fucking kill it!”

+1 The competition

"You really think you are going to win this?” Jasier says, disbelief and amusement clear in his voice.

“I hope you are ready to pay for my new sword, bardling.” Lambert says with a confident grin. Jaskier shrugs, strapping on his lute.

“Your loss. You do remember I am a very famous bard and poet across the continent, and a very sought after professor at Oxenfurt?”

Lambert makes a very charming snorting sounds and waves it away.

“Work hard tonight, and don’t think of trying to cheat!” Lambert tells him, and waves Eskel and Jaskier goodbye.

They agreed that Geralt is too biased towards Jaskier, so Eskel would go with him while preforming and Geralt with Lambert, to make sure none of them is cheating.

As if Lambert would need to cheat.

They walk towards a rather shadylooking bar by the docks, another one of Lamberts favorites. More than one turn around and give a (semi)friendly nod when he enters. The two of them order their drink and settle down.

“Soooo, when are you gonna go about earning those coins?” Geralt asks, sipping on his tankard.

“As soon as the poor lad stops his wailing. Gotta give him a chance, don’t you think?” Lambert smiles, and Geralt rolls his eyes.

There is indeed a poor lad by the elevated area, trying to sing heroic ballads with an accompanying lyre. Talk about reading the crowd wrong.

As soon as the lad is sat in a corner drowning his lack of success in wine, Lambert rises and stretches.

“Alright, time to make good on this bet.” Lambert steps up and begins clapping his hands in a beat. A few patrons see what he is doing and humours him, so he adds the stomping. And proceeds to sing the filthiest song he knows.

Without going into details, it involves what a lady has under her skirt, and how she uses it when she is a lady with mighty needs. To put it nicely. It takes exactly one verse and one chorus before the coins start.

Lambert gives Geralt a victorious smile.

“Alright, how much did you get?” Lambert asks Jaskier. “I hope you won’t have to add too much from your own pocket, swords are rather expensive.”

“132 crowns and 36 ducats.” Jaskier says with a triumphant smile. “The fine ladies at the brothel where quite generous.”

“Where is Eskel?” Geralt asks, looking around.

“Oh, he found a lady with horns and decided to see if they were real.”

“Again? He really has a thing for succubuses, doesn’t he?” Geralt muses.

“Sure seems like it. So, Lambert, how did it go? How much?”

Jaskier won. Lambert blames it on the florence, being slightly less of value than the crown. He lost by three. THREE. Lambert is pissed and Jaskier laughs, but really, he is sweating big time. Lucky he dresses in layers, because fuck that was close. Jaskier declines every challenge there after.