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sidespromptblog · 4 years ago

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Between the Mask: Part 1

Two, Three, and End

Warnings: Angst (Just general nothing too spicy), mentions of masking to an unhealthy degree, Logan is sad, Janus is sad, Roman is sad, food mention, and miscommunication via the light sides.

Word Count: 3015

Summary: Roman confronts Janus about how exactly Roman should act around him, after being told by the others that both being nice and mean to him is wrong. Only to discover that, after everything he’s been through Janus isn’t the person he portrays in front of everyone else.

AO3 LINK

All of it was driving Roman crazy.

Ever since his most recent interaction with Dece… Janus, the looks that he’d received from the others had slowly been driving him mad. Out of everyone he would have at least expected Virgil to understand where he was coming from, especially considering his seemingly rough behavior around Janus.

But no!

The moment that Patton had told Virgil just how Roman had reacted to the news of Janus’ he might as well have been dead to the anxious side, given the way that he had looked at him upon hearing the exact words that Roman had so carelessly spouted off. The snarl had curled on the anxious sides lips wasn’t one that he was bound to forget for a long time to come, especially when paired with the almost betrayed look that the other side had shot him. Roman got it, he really did. Names weren’t to be made fun of around Virgil, but with all the stress that been piling and piling since the wedding it had kind of...

Slipped out.

He hadn’t meant it, or maybe.. maybe he had. for whatever reason Janus’ mere presence had a way of making the truth slip right out of him without even giving it a second thought.

It was infuriating.

That wasn’t even the worst part, to top it off with Virgil avoiding him like the plague now, Logan virtually wasn’t even around anymore. He barely even saw a glimpse of him in the past week alone, in compared to the landslide of facts that always seemed to flow out of the nerdy side once he had something to show all of them. From the looks of it aside from when he was called into the conversation none of the others had been seeing him all that often either, or when he was just made to come down for dinner Logan was just… gone. In his room not backing Roman up in the slightest bit anymore, leaving him to battle a dying fight with no support.

He honestly didn’t get it anymore.

First they get upset at him for siding with Janus and wanting to give him a chance to speak, and then… Now they want him to be treated as if he hadn’t been a bad guy to begin with. Virgil had hissed at him multiple times, and that’s not even counting the times that Patton and him had screamed at him when he popped up like a little snakey weasel.

He just didn’t get it, it felt like no matter how he tried to resolve the issue he was always heading in the right direction, just at the wrong time when it came to the others.

So he was going to put an end to this turmoil once and for all.

“Deceit!” He practically roared as he slammed the door open more than a little dramatically, “I-“

Whatever words had been on his lips abruptly died all at once.

Whatever he had been expecting from Janus’ room... this most certainly was not it. Whatever cold den of debortuary he had been thinking of, this was definitely not it. The crackling of a warm fireplace surrounded by bookcases full to the brim with old dusty books, who’s spines had been well loved and taken care of. The rug under his feet was shaggy and equally as warm as the air, making Roman’s bare toes sink right into it. For a second he had forgotten just what time it was, as with the atmosphere of Janus’ room it felt almost timeless in a sense. Where it could have been anything from the middle of the night to the early early morning where the sun hadn’t even risen yet.

The drapes were a gorgeous deep maroon color that only served to make the room feel even warmer and cozier.

There wasn’t a single hint of yellow in the entire room.

Was this even Janus’ room?

“I believe,” A familiar voice drawled out from the side, “My name is Janus, not Deceit. Roman.”

Sitting nestled comfortably in a little reading nook was the side in question, a book sprawled out onto his lap and a simple cup of tea on the nightstand next to him and a tiny jar of honey next to it. He looked so.. so cozy sitting there among the fuzzy blankets sprawled all around him, and a pair of reading glasses on the tip of his nose. Had Roman only gotten a glance at him, he would have mistaken him for Logan just based on looks alone. But the coy smile smile said it all, as the mismatched eyes glimmered playfully behind those glasses.

“Well?” Janus stuck a loose bookmark in his book effectively halting his reading, and also showing that all of his attention was directed at Roman and Roman alone. “To what do I owe the please Princey? It is somewhat of a surprise given how our last meeting ended, come for revenge or perhaps just to throw more insults?”

Out of everything Roman was just at a loss, he had felt so sure as to what he was walking into. He was sure that whenever he busted down Janus’ door he’d find some creepy room that would almost certainly match Virgil’s for edginess. To see all this was certainly a surprise for him, if anything it left him feeling absolutely foolish as he once again judged one of the dark sides wrongly and was left to clean up after his incredibly long list of mistakes.

Even with all those thoughts rumbling around in his head it didn’t stop the words that left his mouth, “Are you sure that you’re Janus?” He suspiciously asked, narrowing his eyes at the comfortable looking snake side before him. “You seem too…”

Happy?

Comfortable?

Nice?

Not evil?

There were so many words that Roman wanted to use, and so many words that he didn’t exactly have the name for. He wasn’t exactly Logan, so there was no placing definitions to feelings here.

Not that Logan could help in that capacity even if he wanted to.

“Contrary to popular belief, but... How I act in front of Thomas is not how I am in real life. I do have hobbies and interests outside of your little gaggle of friends you know. You guys don’t exactly take up my every waking thoughts." Janus drawled, as he languidly stirred in a spoonful of honey to his tea before taking a long drawn out sip. “I do have standards.”

The long was more than enough sip for Roman to collect his thoughts.

Mostly he was confused, he hated being confused more than anything. It made him feel like he was back in middle school struggling to grasp the complicated problems that Logan seemingly had no issues with. It made him feel dumb. "So what do you really act like?" He felt like he was being more than a little demanding towards the side who’s time he had interrupted, but after the time he'd had after Janus' had come out with his name... He almost felt like he deserved to be, given the silence that had enveloped him in the past week. "Why act like that in front of Thomas?! Or us for that matter?! Why would you need to-"

"Would you have listened?" Janus' cool but comforting voice stopped him gently, leaving his mouth to gape openly for a moment at the loss of words. "How else was I going to be listened to? And not immediately turned away from all of you? Or worse… just ridiculed?"

And just like that Roman was struck with the sight of Logan's face.

His face with a brilliantly bright smile that had did nothing but dim to a scowl the longer they had been introduced to Thomas. Logan who hadn’t been around since Patton had skipped him, since he had chosen ignorance over whatever Logan was going to say, and since… just everything involving all of them. Logan hadn’t ducked out yet, since Thomas still seemed to be fine. But even if he did there wasn’t anyway for them to know if it would even impact Thomas at all, especially given that he had done it before with the fiasco that was going to Patton’s room.

It had been such a long time since Logan had come to him for Spanish lessons, and even longer since he’s seen Logan smile genuinely.

Logan still hasn't had that astronomy class that he had been promised.

Logan who'd felt the need to change who he was for Thomas.

Logan who had changed for all of them.

Something uncomfortable tugged sharply, like a shard of broken glass, in Roman's chest.

Janus' face was lined with scales and the dark shadows of sleepless nights that should have been avoided. His posture was one of exhausted dignity, that he couldn't even bother to uphold in front of Roman now that the others weren't in sight. He didn't even have his hat or gloves on, letting Roman see the speckling of scales on his hands as well as the scales that receded into his hairline. The smile on his face wasn't one of calculated resourcefulness, but genuineness.

He seemed so... so...

Relaxed.

That uncomfortable feeling tugged again, this time more insistent than before. "It's Thomas' fault?" He asked, not even sure as to what he was even asking about. He didn't want it to be Thomas' fault, but as the saying went.

One was happenstance, but two...

Two was a pattern.

"No no no!" Janus' rushed to quell his worries, hurriedly standing, sending the mountain of blankets into a landslide around his feet. His hands coming quickly to rest over Roman's, without even having to think twice about it. "I don't think he realizes it himself, but like with Virgil... He only listens once the problem gets bad enough. He shouldn't, but... That is the case for now. I'm trying to stop him from doing that." For the first time Janus' lips quirked into a sad looking frown. "No matter how he sees me, it doesn't matter. I just.. I just want to help."

Within an instant, Roman's hands found Janus' once again giving them a great squeeze. His heart felt so heavy and full he was almost scared that it would burst on impact.

Not only had he severely misjudged Janus', but he hasn't noticed the very thing that Janus was trying to help with.

If anything he'd made the problem worse in the beginning.

“Thomas… isn’t ready for the real me yet.” Janus murmured, gazing almost longingly down at Roman’s hands as he gave them a testing squeeze. “I don’t know if he ever will be honestly.”

And just like that, Roman felt the temperature of the room shift a little, getting colder as the warm comforting fire died down a little. As if to coincide with the feelings bottled up in Janus’ heart that couldn’t yet be said, and with the change in temperature Janus reluctantly released Roman’s hands in an effort to snag one of blankets to protect himself from the cold he knew so well. By this point Janus was used to the cold, he’d grown up in it and he’d received plenty of it when he’d made himself known to Thomas and everyone else.

This cold was nothing.

But still watching Janus swaddle himself in blankets in an effort to gather the warmth he had before, was almost heartbreaking.

“Is there.. is there anything that I can do to help?” He began, sounding almost like he was begging. “I can talk to Thomas, or even Patton! We can work something out, I can explain everything to Virgil and he’ll understand!”

Even to his own ears that sounded weak.

They both knew that Virgil was as stubborn as a bull, and had the temper to match when it came to anything involving Janus. The moment that Janus’ name left Roman’s lips he would have nothing to do with it. And Patton… he was still getting used to Janus’ presence, so asking him to do something this big would immediately scare him off for a long time to come, thus further delaying Janus’ plans. Thomas though… Thomas was even more standoffish against Janus being a part of anything, just getting Thomas to relax after the wedding had taken a whole day for Janus to manipulate things into place.

They wouldn’t listen to Janus, let alone Roman after the fight they’d had against one another.

Especially not so soon.

So was it just useless then? Was he just supposed to leave Janus here lying about who he was to everyone in the hopes that one day he’d be accepted enough to come out?

A deep frown tugged at Roman’s lips, “So you’re just going to keep masking around the others? Until what? Where’s the end for you? When will it finally stop? When will you be able to show them this place? Or just show them that you’re not who they fear you to be?”

Who was to say that the moment Janus came out with this, things wouldn’t immediately revert to how they had been before?

What then?

A deep sigh withered whatever spark of hope that Roman had left. “It’s okay Roman,” Janus placatingly told him. “It’s just how it has to be for a little while, and then things will get better… for all of us.”

No.

That was not going to stand.

No matter how comfortable Janus was with this, he didn’t want to be. Had he not stopped to question the back and forth of what exactly the others wanted… he likely would have started twisting himself to fit whatever fashion they wanted in the moment. Changing just so Thomas could be happy for the time being, even if it wasn’t what would benefit Thomas in the long run.

The fire in the room blazed a little brighter.

“No.” Roman sternly said, snapping Janus’ attention from the cover of his book that he had gone back to looking at. “I’m not going to just leave you now that you’ve explained everything. You aren’t happy, even if you’ve told yourself you should be. Just because things are better than they were before, doesn’t mean that it’s okay. It just means that you won’t notice when someone else is treating you wrongly.”

With that having been said, Roman turned on his heel his stomach twisting at the utterly shocked and baffled expression on Janus’ face, before he started marching towards the door.

“Where are you going?!” Came Janus’ bewildered call, the quick pattering of feet telling him that Janus was attempting to catch up quickly.

A hand snagged at his shirt attempting to pull him back into the room before he could leave to who knows where. Turning again though to face Janus at the other side’s question, he felt the other’s face solidly collide with his chest before a pair of hands seized his shirt so to not fall backwards from the impact. But not before the creative side looped his arm around the other’s back giving him a brief but very heartfelt squeeze, holding the dishonest side close enough to share his warmth.

As if that alone would stop all of his worries.

Roman treasured that one little second of contact.

“I’m going to get Logan, and were all going to talk like civilized people. We’re going to apologize to each other, and then…” Here Roman paused, taking in the look on Janus’ face. “We’re going to see what we can do to ensure that nobody gets hurt like we have in the past.”

Whatever cool relaxed composure Janus had before, it was gone, as he stared up at the creative side with what felt like a mixture between awe and shock. Out of everything that he had expected to come from Roman’s mouth when he had busted into his room, this.. this was not it. Sure he had expected shouting and yelling, but nothing like this.

A little blossom of pride bloomed within Janus’ chest.

His arms had no trouble finding their way back around Roman, pulling him in for another and much lengthier hug, relishing the warmth that came with it. “I don’t know if anyone has ever told you this before,” Janus mumbled into Roman’s chest, a giddy smile tugging at his lips as he stood on the tips of his toes. “But… you’re really smart. You know that?”

Roman was absolutely sure that he was going to cry now.

Seizing the back of Janus’ shirt, the only thing he could do was hug him tighter. “I think you could mention it a little more often.” He teased, a wet laugh leaving him as the creative side tried to hastily blink away his tears.

He could get used to this Janus.

After what felt like an eternity he pried himself away from Janus, hastily swiping his hands under his eyes before Janus could see the liquid that had started to run down his cheeks. “I’m going to go and get Logan,” He finally settled on, “I’m pretty sure that he needs help, even if he hasn’t said it. He hasn’t exactly been leaving his room lately, and I’m sure its due to how we’ve all been treating him, and how we’ve reacted in the past when his emotions get to be too much for him.” The guilt that tugged at his chest was less painful than it had been before, but still just as present. “I think he needs a hero.”

Janus only nodded, taking a step back into his room. The hearth was blazing behind him, Roman could feel the warmth radiating outwards even from where he was standing a good couple of feet away from the door.

He had brightened up Janus’ spirits towards the present as well as the future, just as he was supposed to do as the epitome of passion. The bright warm smile from the other side told him as such.

“Then go be a hero, Princey.”

#sanders sides fanfic #ts sanders sides fanfic #roman sanders #ts roman sanders #ts roman #ts janus sanders #janus sanders #ts janus #sanders sides fanfiction #platonic roceit #janus is hardcore masking #roman just doesn’t want anyone to be sad anymore #logan is also masking #which makes roman even sadder #he wants his best friends to be happy

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biggest-stupidhead · 4 years ago

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Bad Timing (Levi x Reader) Part 8

Summary: how do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brothers’ best friend?

Word Count: 4.8K

You woke up late the next morning, having forgotten to plug in your phone which also functioned as your alarm. Instead Hange had busted into your room and ripped the blankets off of you, exposing you to the chilly air. You yelped and reached blindly for the covers, your mind too foggy with sleep to comprehend how late you were.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty." Hange sang as she jostled your shoulder.

"Wha..."

"School starts in like thirty minutes come on bust a move." That woke you up. You tossed your legs over the edge and stumbled around your room, pulling on a pair of joggers and a large t shirt. Hange had left once she was sure that you were awake, leaving you alone to get ready. You didn't bother with make up, not that you ever really did. You double checked that you had all of your supplies for school before zipping up your bag and meandered down the steps. Erwin and Hange were already pulling on their shoes by the door, Erwin was wrapping one of his scarves around Hange's neck. You scrunched your nose in disgust at their outright display of affection and shoved your feet into a pair of old sneakers.

The three of you exited the house, and made a beeline for Erwin's minivan which had been heating up to melt off the frost and snow. The drive was slow and cold, the van was dated so no matter how early Erwin woke up to heat up the car for you, it would always be colder than the Arctic. Erwin also drove like a god damn grandpa in the winter due to the icy roads which didn't help. Finally you made it to school with only five minutes before the bell rang, you bolted into the building, you were in such a hurry that you didn't bother to stomp the snow off your feet as you entered. Which was a mistake because in your hast you lost your footing on the already slick floor, you yelped as you fell flat on your ass. You blinked as you tried to comprehend what had just happened, you were brought back to the present by the sound of boisterous laughter. You turned to glare at Connie and Sasha who where standing to the left munching on a bag of hot cheetos.

"You should've seen the look on your face!" Connie howled as he slapped his thigh. Sasha giggled and nodded as she wiped cheeto dust on Connie's white shirt while he wasn't watching. You rolled your eyes as you picked yourself up off the floor, you ignored them and pushed forward down the hall. Sasha and Connie trailed after you since they had the same first class as you, making jokes as they went.

"You know they really should put out those yellow signs, you know the ones with the person falling?" Sasha joked loudly.

"Yeah I know what you mean, then we could print out a picture of (Y/n)'s face and then stick it on the sign." Connie quipped which lead to the two of them dissolving into another fit of laughter. You ducked into the class room as the minute bell rang weaving through the desks to get to your seat. Armin watched you with wide eyes as you pulled your things out for chem, after your desk was covered in notebooks and pens you topped it off with your phone, which was still dead. The bell rang and then Sasha and Connie staggered in, your teacher shook her head and marked them tardy once again.

"Did you get my text last night?" Armin asked, eyeing your phone on your desk.

"Aw no Armin I'm sorry, I didn't charge it last night so it's dead." you apologized as you attempted to organize your cluttered desk. Armin smiled sweetly and nodded,

"It's all good! I was just wondering what your schedule for this week was and if you wanted to study together again?" Armin explained as he pushed his pencil across his desktop.

"I'd love to study, Geometry is kicking my ass right now." you moaned, the thought of your math class made your stomach heavy with dread.

"I can help you with that if you can help me with poem for English." Armin said softly, his blue eyes sparkling with a playful glint. You rolled your eyes you knew that Armin wouldn't need your help with any of his classes, he was just trying to make you feel smarter.

"Whatever you want baby doll." Armin's face flushed at the pet name that you used for him, you had recently started calling him the nickname due to his doll like features. He averted his gaze to the board where the teacher had written a warm up question on the board to get class started. Instead of working on the problem like a good student, you decided to use the first five minutes of class time to revive your dead phone. You plugged your charger into your laptop and then plugged your phone into the charger, once you saw the tiny lightning bolt you turned your attention to the board.

Chemistry went by uncharacteristically fast, the teacher kept the class busy with a lecture as well as a rowdy game of kahoot in preparation for your midterm. You had no time to check your phone, so it wasn't until you were walking through the hallway with Mikasa and Sasha that you noticed that Levi had responded. According to your phone, he had responded only fifteen minutes after you sent the initial message.

"My bathroom schedule is none of your concern."

You smiled at your phone, it may not seem like he was pleased with your text but you knew better. You had come to appreciate Levi's own weird way of showing that he cared, it had been no small feat either. So you decided to interpret his response as "don't worry I'm fine." you shoved your phone back into your pocket and continued to push through the throng of students in the hall. Sasha walked a few paces in front of Mikasa and you, swinging her lunchbox and humming along to whatever song was playing through her ear buds. Mikasa tugged her scarf up over her nose as you passed Eren who waved vaguely in your direction. Your eyes roamed over Mikasa's form, she had recently switched her aesthetic a bit, changing her wardrobe to a more soft goth mixed with grunge.

Today she wore a green plaid skirt with a belt cinched tightly around her thin waist. She had selected a black turtleneck that clung to her curves with a thick silver necklace with a heart pendant. And of course she wore her red scarf around her neck. You had to admit that it suited her, she looked hot as hell. Sasha on the other hand often dressed in a more causal manner. Today the brunette wore a pair of baggy jeans that hung off her hips, only staying in place because of the shoe lace that she had tied around her waist to function as a belt. Despite the cold weather Sasha wore a tiny pink cami with cute little strawberries on it, she also wore a light pink cardigan over the cami, presumably to prevent herself from being dress coded. Seeing how cute your friends had dressed made you feel embarrassed, you frowned down at your sweatpants and your t shirt that had an ugly bleach stain on the front. You'd do better tomorrow, you thought to yourself as you and Mikasa followed Sasha to your next class, which was World History.

The three of you arrived just in time, not that it mattered anyway. The history teachers always took their time on Mondays, spending a minimum of at least twenty minutes in the hall chatting about sports. You took your seats in the back of the room, surprisingly Connie and Jean were already seated and arguing quietly.

"-I don't know that's a bit sus but hey I won't judge." Connie retorted, crossing his arms and averting his gaze while Jean glared at him.

"What are you guys talking about?" Sasha interrupted as she dropped into her seat next to Connie. Jean's cheeks flushed as he hardened his glare on Connie who waved Sasha off.

"Oh nothing" Connie winked at Jean who eyed the pair suspiciously, knowing that neither one could keep a secret.

"Aw ok then." Sasha looked a bit disappointed as she dropped her huge lunchbox down on the desk.

"Got anything good in there?" Jean sighed, eager to change the subject.

"Duh you dummy." Sasha scoffed as she opened the bag and began pawing through it's contents.

"Let me rephrase that: Got anything to spare? I have practice tonight and I didn't pack any snacks." Jean exasperated as he pointed to the lung box. Sasha paused and pursed her lips in thought while Connie poorly covered his laughter.

"Hmmm what's in it for me?" Sasha hummed thoughtfully as she pulled out a variety of granola bars and fanned them in front of her face tauntingly.

"I'm giving you the chance to be a good friend that should be enough!" Jean fumed with his eyes locked on the bars. You watched the pair go back in forth as they bartered for the snacks until they finally settled that Jean would be the designated driver for the party this weekend. You watched as Jean stuffed a handful of granola bars in his soccer bag and Sasha opened up another bag of hot cheetos. You giggled and turned to gauge Mikasa's reaction, she had a small smile on her full lips as she jotted down some notes.

"Speaking of parties, where is the party this weekend?" You asked as you pulled your own notebook out to take some notes. Connie cocked his head, his thin eyebrows furrowing as he stared at you.

"Your house I thought." Connie remarked as he drummed his pencil against the desk.

"Oh, I wasn't really planning on hosting but..."

"No Connie it's at Marco's remember?" Jean stated as he rolled his eyes.

"My bad." Connie chuckled.

"Well still I don't think I was invited so I wouldn't want to impose." you admitted.

"Nonsense! Marco would love to have you over." Sasha assured you as she once again wiped her hand on Connie's sleeve.

"Yeah Marco wouldn't mind if you tagged along." Connie shrugged, not even noticing that Sasha had left a bright red stain on his sleeve from the cheeto dust. You noticed that Jean looked a bit uncomfortable, the tips of his ears turning a bit pink. Strange, maybe something happened between the two of them.

"I don't know guys, I really wouldn't want to take advantage of the guy, he seems really nice and I wouldn't want him to think badly of me." you sighed, thinking about the sweet freckled barista.

"I'll ask him, don't worry about it!" Connie waved you off before he turned back to his work. You nodded, deciding to throw in the towel with this argument.

____

After history, you went your separate ways with your friends and went to your next class. English was easy enough, your teacher was an older woman who also doubled as the theater director. This meant that she would often assign some busy work at the beginning of the period and turn you loose so she could make preparations for the next production. So once you finished the assignment for today's class you allowed yourself some time on your phone. Levi's message remained unanswered as you ran through all the possible replies. Everything that you thought of didn't seem to fit so you decided to leave it unanswered until you could think of something good.

Levi tapped his foot impatiently as he watched Farlan and Isabel fumbled around the small flat. Farlan was rooting through a bin filled with shoes searching for his loafers. Isabel was standing in front of a small mirror holding up two different pairs of earrings up to her head to see which best matched her outfit. Finally they both found what they were looking for, Farlan slid on his brown loafters and Isabel fastened her hoops to her ears and then they were off. The streets of Paris were dusted in about a foot of snow, which Farlan bitched about due to his poor choice of footwear.

"Can we please call an uber? My toes are going to fall off!" Farlan complained as he shook snow out of his shoes. Isabel giggled and tossed her scarf over her shoulder.

"I like the snow." her green eyes sparkled playfully as she teased the older boy.

"So do I but that doesn't mean I want it between my god damn toes." Farlan hissed as he lifted his other foot to shake out more snow. Levi watched the pair bicker with a certain fondness in his gaze. They had been his first friends and for a time his only family. After his mother died, he was sent to live in an orphanage where he met the odd pair. Even if he was only in the orphanage for two years, he still had come to love the idiots. Thankfully they never lost touch, Farlan had turned 18 in July so he now had custody of Isabel and rented a flat for the both of them. Isabel was still only 16 so technically Farlan was her legal guardian, and so far he seemed to be doing a good job.

"What do you think Levi, should we call an uber?" Isabel asked, bumping her shoulder into Levi's to grab his attention.

"We're already almost there." Levi deadpanned as the three of them meandered down the sidewalk. The city was surprisingly busy for a Monday evening, couples walked with arms linked, families were window shopping, and students sat perched on barstools as they drank coffee while they typed away on laptops. Levi couldn't remember much about Paris, at least not this side of the city. He had grown up in the north-eastern district, which was known to be poorer than the central district or southern district. Farlan had managed to get a job at a law firm as an assistant which had allowed him to move himself and Isabel to the central district. Of course Kenny sent Farlan and Isabel a monthly allowance to keep their heads above water, but it was mostly Farlan who had scrounged the money together to move the pair.

"Then it's settled! We'll walk!" Isabel whooped as she skipped ahead of the two boys. Farlan groaned and shot Levi a disappointed look.

"Don't look at me like that, you're the idiot that wore loafers." Levi scolded.

"I hate how you're always right." Farlan chuckled. The trio walked the rest of the way to the restaurant in relative silence. Thankfully the walk wasn't too long, they sat themselves in a booth. A waiter came and took their orders, Levi was slightly taken aback when Farlan ordered a bottle of wine, but he quickly remembered that the legal drinking age in France was 18. The waiter left them to put in their order, Levi took the moment of peace to check his phone. A hand full of texts from Hange, a meme from Erwin, and.... no response from you.

He frowned as he stared at his own response, looking back at it he wasn't sure how she could respond to that. He mentally kicked himself, for the first time in your odd relationship you showed an interest in him and all he was doing was pushing you away. Levi was so deeply engrossed in his thoughts that he failed to notice that the waiter had already brought them their drinks. Isabel tapped her straw on the table a few times to rip the paper, once the tip of the straw was exposed she lifted the straw to her lips and blew. The paper shot off the straw and hit Levi square in the chin. Farlan snorted and spat his wine back into his glass so he could laugh at Levi's exasperated expression. Isabel howled with laughter, she banged her hand on the table dramatically as Levi frowned at the two of them unimpressed.

"How old are you?" Levi ridiculed as he stooped to pick up the scrap piece of paper. He balled the trash up and set it down on the table top. Farlan sighed as he finally managed to quell his laughter.

"Someone has to keep you humble Levi." Farlan teased as he took another sip of wine. Levi reached for the bottle and poured himself a glass, Isabel was drinking a root beer loudly through her straw. Levi sat his phone down on the table as he gave his friends his undivided attention. Isabel told him about her job at a doggy day care where she cleaned kennels and watched dogs. Farlan told him about his superiors and how they told him he would make a good lawyer one day. Levi felt a huge sense of relief as he listened to his friends, he was glad that the two of them were finally making a living for themselves. Levi was politely listening to Farlan rant about one of his annoying coworkers when he noticed that Isabel had grown uncharacteristically quiet. His heart dropped when he saw that Isabel had his phone and was frowning at the screen. Farlan followed his gaze and grew quiet as well.

"Isabel what do you think you are doing?" Levi enunciated each word, his tone dripping with venom. Isabel looked up at him, her cheeks tinged pink when she realized that she had been caught.

"Your phone was open and I saw her text..." Isabel trailed off as she turned to show Farlan. Levi slapped his palm over his face and sighed deeply. Farlan whistled lowly as he read the text.

"Shot her down real quick didn't you Levi." Farlan chuckled as he took another sip of wine. Levi frowned, another wave of guilt washing over him.

"Didn't mean to." he mumbled as he lifted his glass to his lips. Isabel had already set his phone down and favored her own phone, her eyes were scanning over the screen quickly as she scrolled through her phone. A few minutes of silence passed before Isabel showed Levi her screen, she had pulled up your instagram.

"This her?" she questioned, Levi only gave her a curt nod as he finished off the wine in his glass.

"Aw Levi's she's adorable!" Isabel gushed as she scrolled through your page, pausing on one of your more popular posts. A series of pictures of you on a beach towel wearing large sunglasses and a huge sun hat, the quality was amazing. He was sure that Armin took the photo, the kid had a knack for photography.

"Damn if you don't want her I'll take her." Farlan hummed as he looked over Isabels shoulder. Levi shot Farlan a disapproving glare.

"What's her number?" Farlan pressed, Isabel choked on her drink as she burst out laughing.

"Forget about it." Levi hissed as he snatched his phone off the table top.

"I'm just teasing you Levi." Farlan waved his hand dismissively as he poured another glass of wine. Levi rolled his eyes and let out a grunt, his own version of acknowledging Farlan's good natured jokes.

"You should call her." Isabel mused as she chewed on her food. Levi furrowed his brows, what would he even say to you? It's not like the two of you casually conversed, he usually only called you if Erwin couldn't reach you, which rarely happened. He glanced at his watch and frowned, if it was eight o'clock here that meant it was about two back home. Therefore you were still in school so he would have to wait until later.

"That's a dumb idea." Levi monotoned, Isabel rolled her eyes dramatically.

"No it's not, even if you're just her friend I'm sure she would like to know that she's on your mind!" Isabel insisted enthusiastically, Farlan nodded in agreement as he shoveled a forkful of pasta into his mouth.

"She's right you know-" Farlan paused as he swallowed his mouthful of food, "not everyone can handle your cold demeanor as well as others." Farlan chided as he lifted another bite to his lips.

"Fine I'll call her." Levi caved in as he stabbed his fork into his salad. Isabel squealed in excitement.

"This is great Big-bro! I'm so proud of you!" she gushed, her eyes glimmering with adoration. Levi couldn't resist reaching across the table and ruffling her hair affectionately. Dinner ended without any more noteworthy events, Farlan and Levi split the check and then bundled back up to walk back to the flat.

___

You sat at your dining room table staring hopelessly at your geometry homework. A bowl of cold soup sat untouched, you had been too stressed to eat dinner, a habit that you had recently picked up. Erwin and Hange had made dinner so you could get straight to work, which had been very sweet, but you felt guilty because truthfully you had barely made a dent in your assignment. You thought about calling Armin, he would help you. No you couldn't bother him, he was probably doing work of his own.

So you suffered in silence, the shapes and numbers spinning in your brain the longer you stared at the page. With a frustrated sigh you flipped the page only to see more blank problems that needed to be done. You stood up intending to stretch your legs and take a brain break. After you'd walked around the island in your kitchen three times you came back to the table and dropped down into the chair. You cracked your knuckles before clutching your pencil in a death grip and began to attempt one of the questions. As you scribbled on the page, attempting to make sense of the numbers and letters, you pressed too hard on your pencil and snapped the lead. You watched the tiny piece of lead roll across the page, out of spite you swiped your hand over the page to wipe the lead off.

Your eyes widened at the large smudge that now marred your paper. It all started with a single tear, it rolled down your cheek and splashed onto your paper. Before you could really understand why, you were absolutely bawling your eyes out at the dining room table. Was it because you were frustrated with school? Yeah that was definitely part of the reason. Before you could spiral into a dark pit of self deprecation, you were rudely interrupted by your phone ringing. You squinted through your bleary eyes to see that it was already 10:30 pm. You sighed, not really caring who was on the other end of the line you answered the phone.

"What" you blurted, not really in the mood to talk.

"..."

"Well? I'm kind of in the middle of something right now." your voice quivered as you fought back tears .

"Is...this a bad time?" your heart dropped at the sound of Levi's smooth voice.

"Uh" you sniffled and wiped your eyes.

"No it's not I can talk, what's the matter Levi?" you asked as you continued to wipe your eyes.

"Are you sure?" Levi probed, you nodded despite the fact that he couldn't see you. You stood up and began to pace around the kitchen once more.

"Y-Yeah-" you hiccuped and cringed, Levi sighed on the other end of the line.

"(Y/n) be honest with me....are you drunk?" Levi interrogated, you gasped it was a Monday night! Did he really think that you were that much of an alcoholic?

"No! I just...."

"Hm? What is it?" Levi quipped clearly enjoying your frazzled state.

"If you must know, I was in the middle of a mental break down." you admitted with a heavy sigh. Levi went silent on the other line, you were beginning to regret your honesty.

"It's only Monday." Levi cringed at his less than empathetic response.

"Yeah you're telling me." you chuckled, Levi immediately relaxed at the sound of your laughter even if it wasn't as bubbly as it usually was.

"What's bothering you?" Levi asked, surprisingly softly. You furrowed your brows surely he didn't call you just to hear about your day? He was probably just being nice.

"Oh uh... just school I guess." you paused your pacing to drop onto the sofa and kick your feet up onto the coffee table.

"I see." Levi mused as he reclined in the armchair he was seated in.

"Anyway, enough about me, why did you call me? Is there something you need?" you asked, you were sure that he didn't want to hear you complain about geometry.

"It's fine, tell me about your day." Levi grimaced, tell me about your day? Who was he your mother?

"O-Okay. Well I guess it was fine up until I tried to do this stupid geometry." you grumbled, the mere thought of your homework making your stomach sick with dread.

"Geometry?" Levi hummed, crossing his leg so his ankle was over his knee.

"Yeah." you sighed dejectedly, waiting for his scathing remark about how stupid you were.

"That one can be tough." Levi huffed, you could hear him re-situate so you waited to respond. Once you were sure he was settled you inhaled sharply to prepare yourself.

"It's just not clicking for me." you groaned, Levi snorted and once again you could hear some shuffling.

"Want some help?" he asked. You blinked slowly, not fully processing his words.

"Help?"

"Take it or leave it."

"I would be an idiot to decline."

______

"That wasn't so bad was it?" Levi asked, a playful glint in his grey eyes.

"It was awful, but I'm grateful for the help." you sighed, resting your head on the table. You'd been on the phone with Levi for almost two hours now. After he had offered to lend you a hand you had switched to facetime so he could see the problems. Levi tapped his pen on the counter top he was sitting at. Yeah you heard that right, Levi does math with a fucking pen like a psychopath.

"Anytime." his lip twitched upwards ever so slightly.

"God, I'm sorry that all we talked about was fucking math." you apologized.

"It's fine really. " Levi shrugged once again tapping his pen on the counter.

"Tell me about Paris? How are things on the other side of the pond?" you joked, finally able to genuinely smile now that the stress of your homework was lessened.

"First off, never say 'pond' again. Second, it's cold as a witch's tit over here." Levi enunciated each point by tapping the pen against the counter.

"Really? Is there snow over there?" You asked, suddenly very invested in the weather in France.

"Yeah there's a fuck ton." Levi stood up and brought his phone with him to a window. You could tell that he was on a high floor, you could see the lights of the city through the flurries of snow.

"Woah, it's so pretty!" you gushed as you admired Levi's view.

"Tch, I guess." Levi clicked his tongue as he flipped the camera back onto his face.

"Hey what time is it there?" you yawned.

"Six am." Levi deadpanned.

"What!! Why did you let me keep you up so late Levi! My god go to bed." you huffed incredulously. Levi rolled his eyes as he listened to you lecture him on the importance of a good nights rest.

"I mean seriously Levi no wonder why you're always so grumpy." you finished your rant as you closed your bedroom door and began pulling out a pair of flannel pj pants and a large hoodie since your room seemed to be particularly chilly. You dropped your phone onto your bed (camera down obviously) and began to change into your pjs.

"Don't worry about it sweetheart." Levi drawled, his voice a bit muffled by your comforter. Once you picked up the phone you dropped down onto your bed and sighed.

"Seriously, I'm just adjusting to the time change." Levi shrugged, he was now in his own room, also laying on the bed a pale morning glow seeping into the room.

"Uh huh sure." you teased, a smile spreading across your lips. After a moment of silence you decided that it was time to call it a night.

"Well, unlike you I need my beauty sleep." you said groggily.

"Good luck with that." Levi scoffed, his own voice a bit scratchy.

"Thanks again Levi. Goodnight or erm, Good morning I guess." you giggled as you watched Levi try to cover up a yawn.

"Yeah yeah whatever." He scoffed, you waved as you hung up. You rolled over and plugged your phone in, having learned from your past mistake. You sighed contently as you snuggled beneath the covers, your head filled with thoughts of geometry and Levi.

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thecat-isblogging-blog · 3 years ago

Text

Two Tales of Banners

Summary: A one-shot of the Gryffindor common rooms at different eras. Contains swearing

Entering the Gryffindor common room, Harry felt as if the burst of energy and noise could topple him right back out. He straightened back up and grinned at the celebration in front of him. Butterbeers and Pumpkin juice were towered magically onto a table, piles of sandwiches, sweets and Cauldron cakes layered another. If the corners of the room weren't taken over by the sounds of laughter, then the blasting music was. Harry had a feeling McGonagall was going to let them have this one.

'Harry, our boy!' The twins shouted and walked up to him, Fred pushing a Butterbeer into his hand. 'Welcome to the greatest celebration of your life.'

'You've peaked, this is it,' George said in a serious tone and held him out at arm’s length. 'Nothing could get better than the Quidditch cup.'

'Yeah - probably,' Harry agreed with a chuckle, and ducked underneath his arms. He pushed through the crowd of Gryffindors who were congratulating him and looked out for his own friends. Over in the armchair, he saw Oliver sobbing into a decorative pillow.

'You okay, Oliver?' He asked.

The Quidditch captain lifted one single thumbs up but began sobbing even harder.

Harry awkwardly moved on. 'Yeah, okay then.'

He caught sight of Ron's tall arm waving out to him, grinning he walked towards it. Hermione, who had already hugged him multiple times, came in for another. Ron's face beamed, face paint still intact in red and yellow. Neville on the other hand, was trying to flatten his hair where tufts of it stuck out from all the tugging during the match.

'Harry! The cup, mate, the damn Quidditch cup!' Ron said squeezing his shoulder.

'Yeah,' Harry said shaking his head in disbelief, he didn't think he would ever stop smiling and for a second thought of grabbing a pillow and joining Oliver. He twisted the cap of his Butterbeer open and lifted it into the air. 'To Gryffindor, I guess.'

They clinked their glasses together, and lifting up the bottle to his mouth, Harry frowned at the sight on the walls. Only now taking notice of the celebratory decorations the Weasleys had put up, Harry whirled around and saw that almost every inch of the common room walls had some horrible looking banner hung up. He had never seen them before, each one tattered and yellowing at the edges, drooping and patched up with Spellotape. Harry adjusted his glasses and noticed each one had some misshapen animal drawn on them. Judging by the words ‘Go Gryffindor’ he could only guess they were lions.

Being much too amused at the banners, Harry paid no attention at Ron and Ginny going over the highlights of the match. He took another sip of his Butterbeer and turned around towards the twins - who were busy trying to get Oliver to take a drink of water before he dehydrated.

'Hey, did you two make these?' Harry pointed up at the walls, laughing. 'Maybe stick to Quidditch guys - are those supposed to be lions?'

George looked up and grinned, looking around the common room as if seeing it for the first time. 'Brilliant, aren’t they? We found a bunch of them in the storage room behind the tapestry.'

Harry raised his eyebrows. 'Sarcasm, right?'

'We thought they had a quaint, vintage charm,' Fred said getting up and placing his hands on his hips as if admiring great works of art.

Harry looked at the banner above Ron’s head where this particular lion was roaring fire out of its mouth.

'Yeah - charming,' Harry said grinning.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------

'James... what in Merlin's severely, baggy, off-coloured, left n-'

'Sirius,' Lily warned hastily.

Sirius imitated a bow. 'Pardon me, m-lady, James what the fuck is that?'

'A lion you imbecile, look at the mane,' James said looking at him incredulously.

Sirius bit the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face. 'Yes, of course, my mistake.'

Remus, who sat over the armchair - long legs dangling over the edge, peered over to the banner James was working on and threw his head back laughing loudly. 'Yeah, dammit Sirius, look at the mane.'

'If I could have a smidge of support from my friends - I would greatly appreciate it,' James straightened up and looked at his work, cocking his head left and then right. Frowning, he looked over at Lily who sat beside him cross-legged. 'You can see the lion, right?'

Lily looked down at the drawing and nodded slowly. 'Stick to Quidditch.'

Dragging his hand through his hair, James sighed and slumped his shoulders in defeat.

'At least the 'Gryffindor' part is clear,' Peter chimed in. 'You can read all the letters.'

'Great, thanks Peter, I can spell.' James mumbled.

'Here, let me try something,' Lily took the marker from his hands and bent forwards onto the banner. 'There - now it's a lion.'

Sirius looked over her shoulder and barked out a laugh. 'Whiskers don't make a lion, Lily.'

'Of course they do,' She said snapping the lid back onto the marker.

James scratched his chin. 'Wormtail has whiskers.'

'And a lovely set,' Peter said from behind his astronomy textbook.

'I have an idea,' Rolling up his sleeves, Sirius picked up the red marker and knelt down over the banner. After a couple of seconds he sat back up and gestured towards it proudly. 'Look - a Gryffindor.'

'It's ruined.' James said finally.

Sirius stood up, pointing his wand at the banner. 'I think you mean - it's better now.'

Lily pinched the bridge of her nose. 'You can't just draw flames out of its mouth and call it a 'Gryffindor'.'

He tutted at Lily while levitating the banner up onto the wall.

Remus looked up. 'Ah yes, behold the legendary Gryffindor - a dragon with kitten whiskers.'

Lily covered her mouth, the corners curling up and she gently squeezed James' shoulder. 'Sorry, we made a real mess of it.'

'It's the ugliest thing I've ever seen,' James pushed his glasses back up, studying the banner and grinned at his friends. 'Let's make ten more.'

Author notes: I’ve had this idea for a while but felt a little nervous about writing it. I’ve never written for James or Lily - but the idea wasn’t going anywhere so I needed to get it out. I always wondered if Harry stumbled upon anything that was left behind by his parents: gum under the desk, writings on tree trunks, a lost pen that rolled under a sofa in the common room, discarded banners.

#Harry Potter Fandom #marauders era #HP fanfiction #Gryffindors #quidditch #James Potter #lily evans #Remus Lupin #Sirius Black #peter pettigrew #I'm probably going to edit this again #Oneshot

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ghoulishpencil · 2 years ago

Text

“Don’t worry so much. I’ve carried seed all the way to our barn, so I can manage this too.” Finley took over the fencing once again, wrapping his arms around it. “I’ll just follow your braid, so try to avoid any holes.”

“Well… all right.” Cassian tried not to pull his braid over his shoulder to fiddle with, pulling that yellow ribbon out to twist between his fingers instead.

The walk back was slower, a little disjointed, but there were not panic fueled detours, just Finley needing periodic breaks to adjust his grip. His face nearly matched the color of his hair by the time they got to the little shed, and he dropped it to the floor, gasping for air. “That gets heavier the longer you hold it. Absolutely magic.”

“No, you just got tired.” The yellow ribbon was in knots as this point. Cassian shoved it back in his pocket, turning to find a rag to protect his hand as he unrolled the fence again. “Some of the wires are quite long. That will be useful. I just need to find something to protect the wires and we will be good to go.”

“Awesome! I’m going to dunk my head in the stream.” Finley walked out, making Cassian laugh in surprise. The door hung open, and while he watched, he saw Finley kneel and promptly dunk his head in the water as promised.

He had a very odd friend, he decided, still smiling to himself. Just a little. He tested the strength of the iron wire, finding he couldn’t untwist the metal from itself. They’d need tools, and Finley had promised to help with that. He’d just have to focus on the sheathing.

“So, will it work?” Finley hung in the doorway, hair dripping onto his dirty shirt. He was smiling, face no longer so red.

“It should, so long as you can really unravel it.” Cassian still wiped his fingers clean despite not touching the fence directly. “You should probably dry off. I’ll let you borrow a shirt.”

“Oh, thank you!” Finley beamed, walking backwards out of the way as Cassian left the shed. The sun was starting to set, getting in his eyes as he locked the door. “I’ll have to leave soon for dinner, so maybe the shirt isn’t needed.”

“You can stay for dinner.” They returned to the house, ducking through the kitchen where Holly was cooking.

A little horridly, judging from the smell, but enthusiastically.

“Cassie, perfect timing. C’mere.” She grabbed her brother’s arm as he tried to walk by, dragging him to the stove. “I needed a taste tester, and Lila and Tanya are avoiding me. Here.” She popped a wooden spoon of green mush into his mouth.

Cassian gagged, swallowing as quickly as possible. “What is that supposed to be? Poison?” He pushed by Finley to get a drink.

“No…” Holly frowned down at her pot, only for her spoon to be taken by Finley, who tasted the mush himself.

“It’s salvageable,” he said. “You just need to remove it from the heat and add some flavor Miss Holly. Do you have any cranberries?”

“I do — oh! I know what you’re getting at!” Holly moved with the pot, Finley following after her. Clearly, Cassian had been forgotten.

“I’m going to get you a towel and shirt Finley,” he offered.

“Thanks Cas!” Finley was all but bouncing on the balls of his feet as Holly gathered what was probably the whole of their spices and a bowl of cranberries to boot. Cassian watched, surprised at being forgotten but… well. It was interesting to see Finley actually competent at something for once.

He left to gather the promised supplies, leaving the kitchen as it actually started to smell good.

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smells-like-mettaton · 3 years ago

Note

For your sensory fic requests: How about 35 with Alpydyne?

Rating: G Word Count: 1595 Prompt: "jumping into a cold pool" Read on AO3: here

---

Alphys blinked as cold poolwater splashed her in the face.

“Eight points!” Toriel announced from her beach chair. Next to her, Frisk held up a sign with the number seven painted on it. At least, Alphys was pretty sure it was a seven; it was hard to tell without her glasses on. She doubted Frisk would have rated Sans’s cannonball a one.

“You guys are too easy to please,” Flowey grumbled. His pot sat under the big umbrella next to Frisk. “I give the smiley trashbag a two. I didn’t even get wet.”

“Try standing over here,” Alphys suggested, drying her face on the hem of her terry-cloth dress.

She knew she’d been too close to the splash zone, but Undyne was about to leap from the diving board next. Alphys wanted to have the best view possible for the anime-worthy flips Undyne was sure to show off.

“How does he do that, anyway?” Undyne’s eyes narrowed at Sans. “He’s gotta be using blue magic to make himself heavier.”

“Being heavier wouldn’t, um, actually help that much,” Alphys pointed out. “For an optimal splash, you want to displace as much water as possible, so volume is more important than weight. Of course, if you don’t weigh enough, you won’t sink at all, and then the splash would be p-pretty lame.”

“Dang, Alphy, you’ve been holding out on me! I didn’t know you knew so much about cannonballs!”

“I don’t?” Alphys blushed. “I mean, I don’t have any p-practical experience. Just, um, the physics of it. Which, might be why Sans is so good at it, too?”

“That’s good enough for me!” Undyne grinned before scooping Alphys up in her arms.

“What?” Alphys’s eyes widened.

“You’re gonna help us get the best splash ever!!”

“Help—us? What do you—you’re—?”

Her eyes darted around, searching for help. All she saw was Papyrus wearing his black sunglasses and giving her a gloved thumbs-up.

“I BELIEVE IN YOU, ALPHYS! SHOW MY BROTHER WHO PUTS THE COOL IN POOL!”

“Th-there’s no… oh whatever.” Alphys gave up protesting.

Undyne tore off Alphys’s dress, revealing the red bikini underneath, and tossed it to Papyrus.

“DON’T WORRY! I’LL KEEP YOUR CLOTHES PERFECTLY DRY!”

Alphys trusted Papyrus on that. He hadn’t gotten near the water at all today, despite being the one to suggest the pool party at Toriel’s house. He had provided some pretty good spaghetti puffs for them to snack on, though.

“You ready, babe?” Undyne asked.

Alphys was not, and absolutely would never be, ready to cannonball into the pool with the love of her life. What if she tripped off the diving board? Well, that probably wouldn’t happen, considering she doubted Undyne would set her down. But what if she hit her head on the pool floor, or her swimsuit malfunctioned—

She quickly shoved down that thought.

“Ready!” she squeaked out, her face hot enough to evaporate any water left on it.

“That’s what I’m talking about!!”

Undyne grinned down at her, gave her one breath-stealing smooch, and then sprinted towards the diving board.

Alphys’s stomach somersaulted as the board bent and propelled them upwards with a loud BOING. Her claws dug into Undyne’s scales, but Undyne just hollered in delight.

“NGAHHHH!!!”

They hit the water in one unified ball of teal, red, and yellow. It probably looked awesome, but she could hardly dwell on that with the cold water engulfing her.

She managed to hold her breath until Undyne kicked them to the surface.

“You were AWESOME!” Undyne beamed.

Alphys spluttered a little, a few drops of water still caught in her snout.

“I, uh, I was?”

“HECK YEAH YOU WERE!!”

“I’m soaked to the bone,” Sans said from the edge of the pool. “Think you even managed to douse the little weed there.”

“The chlorine’s going to give me a rash,” Flowey grumbled. “Seven points.”

“Nine points!” Toriel added. “I’m going to need a new towel.”

Frisk’s sign seemed to read “zero,” but when they straightened out the soggy poster, the “one” in front of it became visible.

“What did I tell you!” Undyne hugged Alphys tight. “We’re the coolest!”

“Heh… I guess we are pretty cool.” Alphys grinned up at her shyly. “That was, um, actually pretty fun!”

“Does that mean you’re up for best two out of three?” Sans asked.

“Why not?” Alphys smirked. “It feels pretty good to kick your butt!”

“That’s the spirit, babe!”

“Don’t get too cocky.” Sans winked. “Hey Tori, you wanna show these nerds how it’s done?”

Toriel grinned, showing her gleaming fangs.

“I suppose I might as well, since I have been ‘dunked on’ already.” She stood, brushing off her black one-piece swimsuit. “Papyrus, would you do me the honor of taking my place on the judgement hall?”

“OF COURSE, TORIEL!” He saluted, but stood far back behind the beach umbrella. “I AM READY TO JUDGE FROM A SAFE AND RESPECTABLE DISTANCE!”

Alphys was tempted to join him, but Undyne stayed near the pool’s edge after climbing out. Besides, she was already wet.

“I’ve never, um, actually seen Toriel swim before,” Alphys admitted.

“Me either. They both look pretty confident, though.” Undyne frowned.

“You don’t think they’ll beat us, do you?”

“Nah. It’s best two out of three, so even if they show off this round, we’ve got time to make a comeback! Not that we’ll need it!!”

Alphys wasn’t so sure. Toriel had more volume than herself and Undyne put together. And if Sans was somehow using blue magic…

Toriel scooped Sans up in her arms, and the two of them glowed briefly as they leapt from the board.

“GET DUNKED ON!” They shouted in unison, before unleashing a splash that was more like a tsunami.

Alphys ducked behind Undyne, but couldn’t completely dodge the incoming wave. Papyrus cried out from behind them. When Alphys caught sight of him again, he was holding Flowey’s pot, and they were both safe and dry on the opposite side of the pool. Only Frisk looked completely unperturbed, still sitting in their beach chair and holding up the soggy “ten” sign.

“...Okay, that was pretty impressive,” Undyne admitted as Toriel paddled towards the edge of the pool, Sans resting sloth-like on her back.

“What was that?” He asked Undyne with a grin.

“Nothing, nerd!”

Toriel laughed. “I think they are saying they got ‘owned,’ dear.”

“Hey! We’ve still got one more round! We’re gonna crush you dorks into the dirt!! Right, Alphy?”

“Er…”

“FLOWEY HAS A BETTER IDEA!” Papyrus jogged over to them, still carrying the disgruntled flower. “WHY DON’T YOU TELL THEM, FRIEND?”

Flowey rolled his eyes.

“You idiots could just jump at the same time. Listening to you fight argue about who’s better is getting boring.”

Undyne blinked. “That’s… actually not a terrible idea!”

“I’m fine with it.” Sans shrugged.

Alphys nodded in agreement. While cannonballing with Undyne had been fun, she was a little afraid of what lengths Undyne would go to to beat Sans and Toriel.

“YES, FLOWEY IS FULL OF GREAT IDEAS! NOW, WE WILL BE WATCHING FROM AN EVEN SAFER DISTANCE, READY TO RECORD YOUR RECORD-BREAKING EXPLOITS! NYEH HEH HEH!”

Papyrus ran off, his feet fluttering as he hovered up to the roof of Toriel’s house. Alphys had long given up questioning his disregard for the laws of physics.

“Would you like to stand back too, my child?” Toriel asked.

Frisk shook their head and flashed a thumbs-up.

“Suit yourself, kiddo.”

“Alright! Let’s do this!!”

The four of them lined up at the diving board. Well, Undyne and Toriel lined up, with Alphys and Sans in their respective embraces.

“Um, are you sure this board is meant to hold—?”

As if Alphys’s words had been a spell, the diving board snapped beneath their feet. She barely had time to shout before they were all tumbling into the water, a mass of limbs and scales and fur.

She resurfaced quickly, spitting chlorinated water from her mouth. “Undyne?”

Undyne burst from the water, her wet ponytail slapping Alphys across the face. “That. Was. AWESOME!!!”

“Er… was it?”

Toriel pulled Sans out of the water by his skull and set him on her shoulders.

“Uh, sorry your diving board took a dive, Tori.” He grimaced.

“It is not your fault, dear. I should have foreseen that.” She didn’t look upset, thankfully. “I will install a new one eventually. For now, we should give Papyrus the show he is expecting, should we not?”

“Heck yeah!!”

After removing the broken diving board from the water, they once again lined up at the edge of the pool.

“You ready, bro?” Sans called out.

“THE GREAT PAPYRUS IS ALWAYS READY!”

Alphys grinned as Undyne counted them down.

“One… two… THREE!!”

Undyne and Toriel leapt into the air. Alphys felt a tingle of magic shoot through her, and then they were plunging back towards the water at record speeds.

The water seemed to flee from the force of their collective impact. The resulting wave roared in her ears and rocked her very core.

Undyne tried to carry them to the surface—but she didn’t need to. Alphys could nearly stand up in what was left of the pool’s water.

“Wow.” Sans blinked down from Toriel’s shoulders. “Uh. Looks like you won’t have to water your lawn for a while, Tori.”

She laughed, and soon the rest of them joined in.

“I suppose that is enough swimming for today,” Toriel said with a smile. “Who wants pie?”

#alphyne #fic tag #safeutdr #tali writes #prompt requests #thanks square!!

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infiniteiram · 3 years ago

Text

I Think You’re In My Seat.

a vds one shot. you can find more on my ao3.

( @ apolloswords )

feel free to comment/message me any suggestions for one shot ideas!

Unfortunately, the airlines messed up the seating arrangement and Jens is forced to sit on his own. Fortunately, someone else's seating arrangement was also messed up.

"Bad news," Moyo announced as Jens followed closely behind him. "They messed up our seats."

"What?" exclaimed Sander, giving the both of them a puzzled look. "How did they manage to do that?"

"The system completely messed up everyone's seats." Jens explained. "So, since we checked in late, we basically got the scraps. Which means, there is a very slim chance we're all stuck together." He reached over and flicked the back of Aaron's head. "I told you if you showered in the morning we would be late."

"I didn't expect you guys to show up so early." He groaned. "I wasn't even awake yet."

Jens snorted. "Well, you know we still had to take the train. Bottom line is, we can thank you for the shitty seats."

"But, not so shitty." Moyo added. He began to pass the new tickets around, the ones with the new seat number on them. "Robbe, Sander, we managed to snag you the last two seats together. Kind of at the front."

"You are a miracle worker." Sander laughed as he patted Moyo's shoulder. "What about you guys? Where are you guys sitting?"

"Jens has a window seat near the middle of the plane, I'm a few rows behind him and Aaron has a seat at the very back of the plane." Moyo continued on. "And no Aaron, we are not switching."

"Oh come on, it's going to take forever for me to get out. And I'm going to be near the bathrooms, I better not see Sander and Robbe going in at the same time."

Robbe blushed and hid his face into Sander's shoulder. "I don't think we're that promiscuous."

Sander only snorted. "Maybe it'll be revenge on Aaron for making us late."

"Hey, Moyo got you guys sitting together, why're you complaining?"

The rising teasing between his friends seemed to be getting louder, but Jens let their conversation fade around him. He was distracted by the bustle of the airport, people of all ages rushing around. The start of the summer months was probably a busy time for this place, and as much as he loved and adored Belgium, it felt nice to be headed somewhere else.

His eyes wandered among the crowd of people. Giggling kids with their decorated backpacks, business executives looking rather posh in their work attire with a cup of coffee in their hands and other older adults double-checking their bags for their passport and boarding passes. But his eyes only lead him somewhere else.

A few feet away were a group of three boys his age. One of them was leaned against the wall, his dark long curls giving contrast to his light brown skin. He was smiling at the guy to his right, who was sitting on top of a small carry-on luggage with a bright yellow backpack on. This boy also had dark hair, though it was cut short and just barely touched the tips of his ear, where a dangly earring hung. But the boy who really caught his attention was standing on an angle in front of them. From Jens' perspective, he could make out the sharpness of his jaw, the straight bridge of his nose and a small smile on his delicate pink lips. His light brown curls hung quite effortless in front of his face, and the denim jacket he had on fit his body nicely. Jens discreetly eyed him up and down, and felt a rush of adrenaline shoot through his body. He'd never been the type to admire strangers from afar, let alone be completely smitten over one.

But that was exactly what he was feeling right now.

His daydreaming was quickly interrupted by a sharp jab into his ribs. Wincing, he gave Aaron a glare.

"What was that for?"

"Moyo said you were staring too long. I asked what you were staring at and he told me just to ask you." Aaron responded rather innocently before shrugging his shoulders. "So what were you staring at?'

Feeling a blush rise to his cheeks, Jens bit his lip and pretended he had no idea what Aaron was talking about. "Nothing that concerns you." He mumbled out, looking down at his feet.

He heard Moyo snicker from his other side. "Aaron, I don't think you're going to have to worry about just Sander and Robbe sneaking off to the bathroom."

Now Jens elbowed Moyo's ribs. Not as harshly as Aaron did, but harsh enough. Moyo laughed and held up his hands in defence. Both Sander and Robbe raised their brows at him, before trying to sneakily turn around to figure out what Jens was eyeing at. Who Jens was eyeing at. When they came face to face with the other trio, they snickered to themselves as Jens gave them a side eye.

"Damn Jens," Robbe teased. "Three options?"

"One." He admitted, mumbling again. "But I'm not saying which one."

"You know what would be extremely lucky." Sander teased. "If you ended up sitting beside him."

Jens felt his face go a bit more red but scoffed, trying to play it cool. "It's better than sitting beside Aaron."

"Hey!" Aaron protested.

"Now boarding flight 2121." The intercom announced above them.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Robbe and Sander smile softly at each other. He had no idea what the sentiment meant, but judging by the way they looked at each other, it had something to do with their little love story. Jens tried not to feel the way his heart stung suddenly. He would never admit it, but he envied the way all his friends were very content in a relationship but he was not. For the most part, he never felt left out- just, rather lonely. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he made sure both his passport and boarding pass were in his hand as he walked up to the flight information desk. The flight attendant smiled at him and ushered him off. Taking a deep breath, he trudged down the boarding bridge at a slower speed. He couldn't help but to also feel a tinge of disappointment. The boy in the denim jacket from earlier hadn't been sitting around their gate, and he hadn't seen him since him and his friends had wandered off twenty minutes ago. There was now exactly zero chance of scoring a seat beside him, even if his chances from before were still close to zero.

He felt Moyo slap his shoulder, which startled him a bit.

"See you in two hours." He remarked.

"I hope you seat mate is some old grandma who can't hear very well but insists on talking." Jens taunted playfully, as he found his seat. Slipping into the small aisle, he flopped down on the window seat and gave Moyo a handshake before he headed off.

"I hope I get a cute girl." Aaron remarked, as he slowly passed Jens' aisle.

Raising brow, Jens smirked. "How would Amber feel about that?"

"You're right. I hope I get the grandma." Aaron muttered while rolling his eyes.

Jens looked over the other seats as other passengers clambered about, stumbling into their seats or trying to put their carry on luggage up on the overhead storage. A few rows up stood Sander and Robbe, who waved at him before the settled into their seat. When he knew all of his friends were in their seats, he sighed heavily and placed his backpack underneath the seat above him. Tapping his fingers on the arm rest as he bounced his leg, he distracted the remaining minutes before takeoff by looking outside of his window.

Only to be interrupted less than two minutes after.

"I think you're in my seat." A voice with a slightly different accent announced.

Turning his head to face the person the voice belonged to, he felt his face heat up again.

It was the boy from earlier, the one in the denim jacket. Only this time, he was standing very close to Jens. He could now make out the silver rings on his finger, the way his jacket actually hung over more over his shoulders than he thought and the colour of his eyes. The vibrant blue that stared into his brown ones, its colour so bright that Jens didn't believe colour existed before this moment. Realizing he was probably gawking at him, Jens swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to conceal his mess of emotions.

"No? I'm pretty sure this is my seat."

The boy reached over, showing his boarding pass. Squinting a bit, Jens read the seat number and frowned.

"I think they double booked the seat." He stated, looking back up at the boy.

Shrugging, the boy just ran a hand through his curls and sat down. Jens was rather surprised at his chill and confident behaviour, which had him going through an even more internal mess of feelings.

Trying to avoid gazing at him for so long, Jens turned around and started biting the inner corner of his cheek. He suddenly felt very nervous that the boy was beside him now, and if he let his arm up on the armrest, there would be the slightest physical contact between them.

Coming down the aisle was the other two guys, the rest of his trio. The one with the dark curls wiggled his brows at him, only to be lightly smacked on the arm as he passed through. The other boy, the one with shorter hair and was now wearing sunglasses with red lenses, reached out to pinch his cheeks. The boy ducked swiftly and snorted, looking behind him as his friends sat down. Jens noticed that the other two were sitting in different aisles, just like him and the Broerrs.

"Did they fuck up your seats too?" Jens asked, attempting to make conversation.

"Yeah, clearly." He laughed lightly, before fully turning his head to face Jens. "I'm Lucas."

"Jens." He nodded before trying to give him a small smile. It wasn't that smiling at him was an issue, Jens just didn't want to make it so obvious that his slight crush was growing by the second.

Fortunately, Lucas smiled back. "Are you travelling alone?"

"No, my friends are scattered about as well. That's how I figured the airline must have also messed up your seats up as well."

Laughing lightly, Lucas shook his head, his curls gently moving about. "I figured they messed up after seeing someone else in my seat. I just hope I'm not stealing someone else's."

"I don't think so. I think you and your friends were the last ones to board. See? They're closing up the doors now."

Lucas wasn't as tall as Jens, so he couldn't see above the seats. He put his hands on the armrest and lifted himself up a bit. The slight brush of his fingers just barely grazing over Jens' hoodie sleeve was enough to send sparks through his body. The very slight contact had his face turning pink again, and he needed to calm down before Lucas noticed.

"You're right." He agreed, bringing himself back down. "To be honest, I thought they would close the plane before we got on. It's a miracle I'm here right now."

"Why's that?"

"My friend Jayden, he's back there with his red glasses, decided to be an idiot and lose his passport somewhere in the airport. We came from a connecting flight from Amsterdam, so at least it's not there."

"I get that, my friend Aaron also decided to be an idiot. He woke up late which lead us to checking in late, which lead us to shitty seats and being separated." Jens added, before biting his lip. "So, you're from Amsterdam?"

"Not quite. Utrecht, but the closest airport is Amsterdam. So, to get to Rome, we needed a connecting flight." He explained, before tilting his head a bit. "Are you from Brussels?"

"Not quite." Jens repeated, laughing a bit. "Antwerp. We're actually much closer to each other than we would've been."

"Yet we meet on a flight to another country." Lucas remarked, a glint sparkling in his blue eyes.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we will now begin the departure to Rome, Italy." An attendant called over the intercom.

The plane began to move beneath them and Jens double checked that his seatbelt was on. The attendants began to do the safety instructions in front of them, and Jens turned his head to look back out the window. After a few minutes, his instincts told him to look at Lucas, who hadn't said anything since the departing announcement.

Poor Lucas was squeezing his fists so hard that his knuckles were white and his face was drained of colour. The slight pink of his cheeks were gone and he was squeezing his eyes shut, taking in deep breathes to calm himself down. Jens widened his eyes, internally panicking as he had no idea what to do.

Reaching out slowly and slightly, he put a warm hand on top of one of Lucas' fists. The skin beneath his own was ice cold, and Lucas opened his eyes quickly, surprised to see that Jens was looking at him.

"Nervous flyer?" Jens asked lightly, but softly enough to be comforting.

He huffed out a nervous laugh. "Yeah, can you tell?"

"Just a little." He paused, unsure how to go about this. "Do you, uhh, do you maybe want to hold my hand?"

"May I?"

"Of course."

It took Lucas a second. But after feeling the plane begin to move faster as it lifted off the runway, he unclenched a fist and grabbed onto Jens' hand. His tight grip should have also cut off Jens' circulation, but Jens stayed calm. He let his thumb rub gently circles on top of Lucas' hand, trying to ease him a bit. After a few moments, he felt Lucas' grip loosen a bit, some warmth beneath their hands and Lucas' breathing being a little less restrained. Lucas' eyes were still closed, and Jens eyed him up and down, taking in the entire wonder of this boy.

This boy, who he realized, was holding his hand.

Of course, the intention was innocent. But Jens suddenly felt his heart race as he continued to let his touch calm Lucas down a bit. He couldn't believe he was holding his hand and if any of his friends knew, he would never hear the end of their teasing. When the plane was soaring through the sky at a steady pace, Lucas sighed heavily and fluttered his eyes open. After a few seconds in which he recollected himself, he turned to Jens and gave him a soft smile.

"Thanks, sorry, I didn't think I'd get so nervous. I was fine on my first flight, but to be fair I'm really tired. I didn't sleep much last night."

"It's okay." Jens smiled back, reassuring him. He noticed the way Lucas still hadn't let go of his hand, and he was just fine with that. "Do you always get nervous when you fly?"

"Mostly, yes. But not like, that bad. Except for now. I think I lost all feeling in my body."

"Probably helps if you actually sit by someone you know huh?" He joked.

Smiling a little wider, Lucas huffed out another nervous laugh. Though this time, it felt a bit lighter. "Yeah, but, it also helps to have someone like you to sit by."

"Someone like me?" Jens asked, unsure what the ambiguity of the statement meant.

Lucas only shrugged, giving him a grin before adding another rather vague statement. "Yeah, someone like you."

And for the second time today, Jens couldn't believe his luck. After about an hour into the flight, in where him and Lucas had quickly gotten comfortable with each other, Lucas had dozed off. Jens had recalled he was feeling a little tired, but as Lucas fell into a gentle slumber, his head slowly fell onto his shoulder. Lucas, being asleep, obviously didn't realize he had fallen asleep on his shoulder, but Jens couldn't help but feel so giddy. He didn't want to move however, because there was no way he was going to wake Lucas up and ruin this.

So, he aimlessly looked out the window and began to think. He couldn't help but feel like he had missed a chance with this boy when they parted ways after the next hour. But, he didn't know if it was too forward of him to ask for some kind of contact with him. To be fair, they had already held hands so the next natural step in this equation was to somehow get his number.

Feeling Lucas stir gently, he looked down at him. The light brown curls fell over his face gently and Jens could make out the small freckles over his nose and his eyelashes mimicking rays of sunlight as his beautiful blue eyes stayed hidden. Jens didn't know how someone could've been so beautiful, let alone be so close to him.

He truly felt like the luckiest person in the entire world.

"Sorry," Lucas mumbled, his eyes still closed. "I didn't mean to fall asleep on you."

Smiling down at him, Jens reached out to just squeeze his hand again. When they had let go of his hand, Jens tried to conceal his frown. So now, he used this as a gateway to have Lucas' hand back in his. He also liked how Lucas did't remove his head from his shoulder right away.

"It's okay. I don't mind."

He felt Lucas hum against his body, before letting out a loose giggle. "So, what are you heading to Rome for?"

"Just a trip, a quick one to start of the summer and what not. You?"

"The same." Lucas let his eyes look back up at Jens, and once again he was marvelled at the sight of them. "That's kind of a good coincidence."

"Or you know," Jens shrugged, looking away for a second. "Fate."

"Fate?"

"I mean, out of all the seats here, what were the chances you would be sitting by me? Or, let alone, having the same seat as me?"

Lucas grinned, the blue in his eyes clashing together as they became a mess of bright shades. "Seems just like a really good coincidence. Do you believe it that sort of stuff?"

"Fate?"

"Yeah."

For the second time, Jens repeated his shrug. "Sure, why not? It's kind of like, everything happens for a reason. What about you?"

"Do I believe in fate?"

"Yeah, or are you sticking to everything being a coincidence?"

"Mostly coincidence. Though, I am starting to think a little bit of all this might be fate?"

"Why's that?"

A familiar glint sparkled in Lucas' eyes again, as he let himself gaze at Jens above him. There was something knowing about the smile on his face, but Jens couldn't quite place his finger on it.

"I was going to fly out to Italy two weeks ago." Lucas began to say. "But Kes, my other friend here, had to renew his passport so we pushed our departure back. It kind of sucked at first, but not anymore."

"Sucks a little less?" Jens teased, biting the tip of his tongue between his teeth as he smiled widely.

"Definitely sucks a little less."

Both boys stood at the baggage claim. When Jens had gotten off the plane, all his friends had given him a suspicious look as the boy they had seen him admiring was suddenly following him. He had to give them credit for not saying much, as he didn't want to be embarrassed before he could even ask for his number. Aaron, and Lucas' two friends, Kes and Jayden, were still making their way towards the baggage claim. Sitting at the back of the plane was probably not idea, but it gave Jens some time with Lucas.

They got their luggage and Jens saw the other two guys, followed by Aaron, head over. Frowning slightly, he was sad to realize that Lucas and him would part ways and they would be nothing more than two random strangers who managed to sit beside each other on the plane. They weren't even from the same country, and he doubted that the universe would allow him to be this lucky again.

"Lucas!" The boy with red glasses called out, who Jens assumed was Jayden. "Who's your friend?"

"Jayden, Kes, this is Jens. Jens, meet Jayden and Kes." He introduced. "I told him I needed new friends who weren't idiots."

"Just friends?" Kes asked, raising his brows and for the first time, Lucas blushed so hard he turned pink. It made Jens smirk, amused at his reaction.

"Jens!" Aaron called out. "Who's your friend?"

Now it was time for Jens to introduce Lucas to the Broerrs. Turning around, he saw Moyo, Sander and Robbe heading towards him. When they reached him, they stood beside him, all three of them smiling widely as the smirked at the very small distance between him and Lucas.

Coughing awkwardly, Jens bounced his leg. "Luc, meet Moyo, Sander, Robbe and Aaron. Guys, meet Lucas. I met him on the plane."

"And you didn't go to the bathroom?" Aaron piped up and Jens reached behind Lucas and quickly swatted the back of Aaron's head. Aaron winced as the rest of the guys continued their smirking.

"So, where in Rome are you staying?" asked Robbe, and Jens was thankful for the opening normalcy of a new conversation.

"I forget the name, but it's like, a quick shuttle ride from here? Napoleon or something." Kes replied.

"No way?" Moyo exclaimed. "Napoleon Hotel Roma?"

"Uhm yes?" Lucas replied, furrowing his brows in confusion.

Moyo clapped Jens' chest, startling him with his excitement. "Dude, that's the one we're staying at! Did you not know that?"

"Honestly, the hotel didn't even come up in our conversation." Jens admitted.

"Well come on!" Jayden exclaimed, calling then out to follow him. "We can all head to the shuttle and get there together. How long are you guys staying in Rome for?"

"Two weeks." Sander responded, wiggling two of his fingers up.

"No way! So are we!" Kes said in surprise.

Jens looked at Lucas, who was still blushing and giggle beside him. The rest of the guys had started to follow Jayden's lead, but Jens let himself bask in Lucas' company for a few more seconds. Lucas looked up to meet his eyes, a happy grin plastered on his face.

"So, is your opinion still changing?" Jens asked, wiggling his brows.

"What?"

"Do you still think this is a big coincidence?"

"A little bit." Lucas shrugged, his grin growing wider as he took in the way Jens was looking down and smiling at him. "But, I think I'd like to think that this is definitely fate."

"And I'm pretty sure that's exactly it."

"So is this fate Jens? Were we meant to meet right here, right now?"

"I think that's what was supposed to happen. I was meant to meet someone like you."

"Someone like me?"

"Someone like you."

And with that, they followed their friends towards the airport shuttle. Jens didn't know what the rest of the trip, the rest of the summer, meant for him, but that was okay. Because when he looked down, he smiled as Lucas shyly slipped his hand into his and intertwined their fingers together. Lucas pretended he hadn't reached out for him, but Jens felt his hand squeeze against his as he repeated the circular motions with his thumb on top of his hand. They didn't have to say anything, but it was clear they were thinking the exact same thing.

Maybe everything did happen for a reason.

#vds #van der stoffels #vds fic #vds one shot #jens stoffels #lucas van der heijden #wtfock #skam nl #one shot #ao3 #ao3fic #airplane #airports #this was lowkey rushed and i was exhausted writing it #so i hope it's a little coherent

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subzeroiceskater · 2 years ago

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SPEAKING OF READING OF BOOKS

So I've been going through a bunch of Arctic books--short version: it's wondrous and depressing because of the whole climate crisis dealio--mainly for fanfic references, but that got me thinking and remembering:

I love Tundra Man but the thing that drives me crazy in MM11 is thematically, he's the outsider--all the other RMs' stages deal with their place of work or reference their whole deal-- You fight Bounce Man in Boing-Boing Park, Fuse Man in his electric plant, Impact Man continues the job he was assigned, Blast Man destroys Flower Land, Torch Man sets fire to his camp, Block Man makes a grand structure like he's always wanted...

Tundra Man, though? He freezes a city and takes over a museum. How does that thematically connect to his whole deal as a 1) polar exploration/development robot 2) who modified himself to be a figure skater???

It doesn't really, it's just a general ice theme. He takes over a museum, fossils abound, you fight a robot display that has a mechanical mammoth. All cute allusions to the general Ice Age and maybe an earlier ice robot with Freeze Man and T-rex boss fight.

Except nothing about Tundra Man’s profile has him working with fossils or the ice age or the museums. In fact, it has him working squarely in the present with him supposed to be observing and exploring of the Arctic. His name is Tundra Man where the TUNDRA at???

Well, apparently

His theme is…turning the city into a “barren polar icescapes with permafrost”. That IS what tundra is, I suppose. “...A vast, flat, treeless Arctic region of Europe, Asia, and North America in which the subsoil is permanently frozen.” I certainly don’t see any trees. :U

Kinda random but nevertheless, mystery solved, I guess.

BUT WAIT, THERE’S MORE

My man Tundra turns a city into a tundra, and somehow or the other, brings along a couple of animal friends to populate it. No one really asks where or how a stage’s enemies come from (reprogrammed by Wily? Made by Wily? Or do they just follow along the boss of any given stage?) Judging from their profile, Snow Robbits were probably made along with Tundra Man so presumably are Cossack Labs creations. Snow Robbits are obviously arctic hares.

But what about Ice Swans?

I love those things but I admittedly don’t remember swans being mentioned in any of the books I’ve read. I’m more likely to read about arctic terns or eider ducks or seagulls. So why swans? That’s so random. Is it because swans are associated with elegance and that’s kinda how Tundra plays?

I read “Siberian Crane” and thought “oh hey a Russian arctic bird. I wonder why they didn’t choose something like that instead of swans. Why swans anyway?”

AND THEN

Why yes I did lose my shit

SWANS

But wait! The pic above don’t really look like the swans in the game, right? It even says all-black bills.

The Ice Swans don’t even look like the general image of the swan, which are primarily mute swans. Maybe even black or trumpeter.

Then again, it’s hard to say Snow Robbits look like actual Arctic hares, yeah?

But, still, Ice Swans look a more natural than Snow Robbits. And if you check the swans above, whooper swans look a lot like Ice Swans. But whooper swans AREN’T tundra swans. So what gives?

I already had a sneaking suspicion, quickly confirmed by a Google search.

BINGO!

There is ANOTHER kind of tundra swan!

Bewick's - Swan Specialist Group (swansg.org)

Best of all? BEST OF ALL!

Bewick’s Swans spend the summer in arctic Russia, on a narrow band of tundra stretching from the Kanin Peninsula west to the Chukotka Sea. Three populations have been identified based on their winter distribution: the Northwest European, the Eastern and the Caspian.

Bewick’s swan is specifically the ARCTIC RUSSIAN one.

The black-and-yellow-bill, the arctic habitat, the smaller size compared to the other swans…

Ice Swans–Tundra’s SWANS–are very specifically the ARCTIC RUSSIAN ones. I’m so, so utterly delighted by this. That is SO ADORABLE omggggggggggg

So, yeah, so while I’ll always be a little driven crazy by how Tundra’s stage isn’t so neatly thematically perfect like the rest of the MM11 crew, discovering this specific detail just turned that around for me.

Tundra Swans for Tundra Man! Russian Arctic ones, even!

#TUNDRA #ICE SWANS #MEGAMAN SHITPOSTING #SWANS!!!

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darker-soft-starker · 4 years ago

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Starker High School AU Pt. 6 (1, 2, 3, 4, 5)

---

tw: general howard stark warning

---

There is a buzzing by his ear.

At first, Tony doesn’t really notice it, waking up in short increments before being pulled back under. But he keeps waking, unsure what keeps tugging him out of his dreams, hand flapping around his face as he tries to stop the incessant ringing.

“Blergh,” he mumbles into his pillow.

Batting his hand around to quell the source of annoyance, he comes to grip his phone, squinting as it lights up inches away from his face and vibrates against his palm. For a second he thinks it’s his alarm, but then he remembers that he didn’t set one. It’s a succession of text notifications cascading down his screen that alerts him out of the slope of slumber with a start.

The only time his phone goes off like this is an emergency. The first thing he registers is that it’s only eight-minutes after seven. He blinks, sight clearing from the sleep wedged in his eye as he reads the flurry of still-incoming texts.

> so thanks for last night > yknow > for the ride > i mean > you know what i mean > anyway > so that folder i gave you had my BIO notes, not econ > im such a doofus > i need them back > don’t bother looking at them lol > can we meet up?

Tony groans, eyelids heavy as anvils. Jesus christ. He didn’t get home until four after dropping this guy off and he’s already up and bothering him? What gives?

Exhausted and annoyed, he tucks his phone under his pillow and sets it on do-not-disturb for extra measure. There ain’t no way he’s getting up at seven on a Saturday for fucking class notes. Prick.

In his opinion, he’s filled his quote of good deeds for the month and he doesn’t need to be up for another few hours. Whatever it is, he thinks, snuggling into his pillow, he’s sure it can wait.

---

The next time he wakes it’s just after nine. There’s a gap in his curtains allowing a sharp shard of sunlight into the room where it directly pierces into his eyelids.

He groans tiredly into the drool patch on his pillow, willing sleep to come back to him, turning on his other side, gripping the edges of the quilt and tightening it around himself until he is firmly cocooned within it. It’s nice and warm, and sleep is such a rare commodity to him so it’s novel to bask in its dregs. But there isn’t any more sleep to come he’s quick to realize, giving up after a few minutes and blinking up at the ceiling.

Nine is practically six. It’s criminal to be up this early.

There’s an unusual flurry of texts on his phone, some from Rhodey, but most of them are from Parker, an endless ladder of increasing franticness.

Tony tosses his phone to the end of his bed carelessly.

It’s been literally less than twelve hours since he’s had to deal with the shithead. Surely whatever was lodged up his ass couldn’t possibly be as important as Tony ignoring him.

Swinging his legs off the bed, he stands and stretches his arms up high, fingers curling. The stretch feels good and he takes a quick sniff of his armpits to gauge if he can forego a shower for the third day in a row.

The stench is wicked. It’s possible that he’s overdue.

He strips off as he heads towards the adjacent bathroom, naked and nursing a semi.

He can’t help but shudder as his back meets the cold tiles, the intuitive shower head following his body with a mechanical whir, miscalculating its aim and spraying him in the face.

Ah. That will need to be recalibrated, he notes.

But, he can’t say he really minds, tolerating the spray, even as it hits his mouth like a fire hose. He ducks his head to wet his hair, reaching blindly for the touchpad to dial down the pressure. Once the water is to his liking he reaches down to take himself in hand, leisurely stroking himself.

It’s just a perfunctory part of his morning ritual; he doesn’t really have anyone in mind as he brings himself to full hardness, just the fleeting memory of lips around his cock, the next of a well rounded ass, not feeling particularly creative.

Okay, so maybe he pictures some big, brown eyes and dark hair he can run his fingers through. And maybe he goes off like a rocket. That’s his business.

Anyway, once he’s out of the shower, a towel wrapped around his waist, he inspects his appearance in the mirror. The bruises on his face are still pretty gruesome, deep purple and beginning to yellow around the edges. The cut on his lip seems to be well and truly scabby.

Turning to the side, Tony takes observation of his overall torso region; his stomach is not as defined as he’d like it to be - probably due to his affinity for carbs and sweets, if he’s honest. Between a few fingers he can pinch the skin and pull it a little -- and look, he’s a bit soft around the middle, but he lifts, alright. Maybe he isn’t exactly steel cut like the dudebros on the football team who have made being ripped their life mission, but he has musculature under the adipose.

Is he a little self-conscious about it? Sure. Is he worried about it enough to give up garlic bread and cronuts? No. Especially when he spots a new chest hair nestled comfortably between his pecs.

Probably a bit too proud of himself because of a singular piece of hair, Tony gets dressed in a pair of jeans that have seen better days, speckled with singe marks and thinning at the knees and a singlet, slinging on his leather jacket for the finishing touch.

He almost forgets the bot.

“Look at you,” he says, to the mangled mess of metal on his desk. Scooping the injured, beeping bot Tony stuffs it into his backpack. “Come here, darling. Shh, you’re okay.”

Peering both ways out of the hall to ensure the coast is clear, he quickly descends the stairs, shushing the bot the whole way.

On the ground floor, he pauses when he hears voices coming from his father’s office. It takes a second to recognise the voices, his father and Stane arguing over one another, loudly, then softly. He tries to listen in, catching somewhat audible hisses about the company finance officer.

Careful to avoid the floorboards that squeak he tiptoes to the kitchen to pocket a few muesli bars and a water bottle from the fridge.

The voices get progressively louder as he sneaks to the front door, silently saluting their maid as he passes. She waves back at him, offering a sympathetic smile as he goes out the door.

His heart pounds as he reaches his car, parked around the corner street.

“Alright, baby,” he grins, revving the engine. “Let’s go.”

---

“The fuck?”

It’s hard to be sure, but perhaps Rhodey doesn’t expect Tony’s unannounced arrival at his front door. Not if the furious scowl and bunny slippers on his feet are anything to go by.

Nonetheless, he slips past the front door, welcoming himself into his friends home, despite the exasperated outcry of for fucks sake Tony, it’s Saturday and it’s not even noon, can’t you call ahead?

No, he can’t call. Well, actually, he reconsiders, heading down the hall to the basement, his friends footsteps echoing behind him, he probably could, but it wouldn’t make anyone less mad at him, so what’s the point?

Besides, judging by the empty driveway and barren living room, Rhodey’s family is already out, he’s not sure what the issue is.

“The issue is I am tired, man,” his friend complains, following him down the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Me too, honeybear, freakin’ exhausted,” Tony mutters, skipping down the stairs. “Go back to bed. I’ll be out of your hair in a minute.”

“Oh sure, and let you solder your fingers together again. Nah. Not taking the fall for that.”

“I’m not going to solder my fingers together. I’m a pro.”

“Unless you need me to remind you of last summer,” Rhodey takes a seat at the workbench, “I suggest you shut up.”

“You’re rude, you know that?” Tony asks, retrieving the bot from his backpack and setting it upon the bench. “I’ll have you know that I’ve learned since then.”

“And yet you still refuse to wear gloves,” his friend sighs, settling heavily upon the adjacent chair. There’s a comfortable quiet between them while Tony works, carefully settling all the pieces onto the table, moving each with care.

It’s hard to miss the weight of observation on the back of his neck, but he lets his friend drink his fill before he’s ready to speak.

“You fuck up something?” He points to the bot.

Tony shakes his head, pressing the solder into the circuit board. “No. Well, yes. The coding is perfect, as usual, but this idiot isn’t any smarter than a Roomba. He’s meant to be smarter.”

“So?

“He is smarter. I dunno, sometimes he messes up,” Tony mumbles, reaching blindly for the bent-nose pliers before Rhodey places it in his hand. “He’s not bad, just dumb. It’s not his fault.”

“And again, what happened? Did you run him over?”

“No, the old man got sick of me playing with ‘toys’. Dumb-dumb here met the wall in a very dramatic fashion. It was an Oscar-worthy performance.”

There’s a sigh from behind him.

“Does that explain your face?”

Tony glances behind him and smirks.

“You mean my dashing good looks?”

“Tony.”

“Honestly? I got into a fight with a feral racoon that ran off with some old lady’s purse. It nearly cost me an eye, but I saved the day. She called me a hero, gave me some stale crackers from her purse and then gave me her number.”

“Tony.”

“Fine. I was skateboarding. I was in the middle of executing a super complicated kickflip but lost control when an enlarged gutter rat scurried in front of me. I flew headfirst into the gravel. Very embarrassing. That work?”

“Tony.”

“Look, just leave it will ya? God, you’re like a nagging wife. Pick whichever story makes you feel all nice and fuzzy inside.”

Rhodey is suddenly before him, waving something in his face. “Your phone, jackass. Your better half is calling?”

Huh?

Tony blinks, gently setting down the pliers and the chip he’d removed, taking his phone. It vibrates, Your Better Half flashing across the screen.

“Parker, ugh.”

He really should have changed the contact name by now, he thinks, swiping to answer.

“Alcoholics Anonymous,” Tony answers by way of greeting. “How may I direct your call?”

“Ha ha, very funny, asshole. So you are awake. I’ve been trying to contact you all morning.”

“I know. I’m beginning to think you actually might have separation issues,” Tony says. “I just got rid of you like eight hours ago.”

“I’m calling about the folder. Didn’t you read my texts?“

“Oh, I read them,” Tony settles back on the stool and continues to work on the main circuit. “See, I was just ignoring you. Hoping you’d take the hint, but I forget subtlety is lost on you.”

“Look, I need my notes. Can we meet up?”

“Right, for Bio,” Tony rolls his eyes. “Can’t it wait until Monday?”

“No. I, uh -- I have a test first period. I need to study for it.”

“Uh-huh. Just remember, the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell. You’ll be fine.”

“I take AP Bio, asswipe, I’m aware of that. Can I just get it back, please?”

“You take AP Bio? Was that an admin error or something?” he asks, holding the chip he’d retrieved earlier up to the light to inspect for any damage.

It looks to be ok. The damage to the bot overall seems to be mostly cosmetic, couple of scratches, a few dents. Nothing that a few replacement panels wont fix. Whatever he hasn’t already got stored here Rhodey will surely have spare parts, it’ll be fine. God, what would he do if his friend didn’t lovingly tolerate Tony using his space for storage and barging in whenever he lucks. It’s lucky Rhode’s parents are so chill though, unlike his own. He may be a hot-head but he’s practically a saint compared to -

“ - hello? Are you still there? I can hear you breathing.”

Tony blinks. “Right. Your notes. Look, I’m kinda busy. I have a life outside of you and I don’t actually care about your academic integrity, so, you’re gonna have to wait.”

“For how long?”

“I’ll drop them off this evening, like six-ish. Hey, maybe we could do that interview with May if she’ll be around.”

“...I’m not sure that’s the best idea.”

“C’mon, I already told you I’m not actually hot for your aunt. I’ll be professional.”

Rhodey shoots him a bewildered look.

“That’s not what -- look, whatever. Just don’t be late okay. I have a life outside of you too.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before. I’ll try and not get in the way of your weekend plans of crying while you masturbate.”

“I literally hate you.”

“And yet you aren’t denying the crying. Anyway, I have to go now, try to clean yourself up before I get there. See you at six, bubby,” he hangs up, cracking his neck before refocusing on his mangled creation. “Now where were we?”

“What the fuck.”

Tony pauses, pliers in hand. There is a particular expression on Rhodey’s face erring on the side of confused and haunted.

“What?”

“’Bubby’?”

“Don’t say it like that - it’s like an inside thing. Don’t repeat it to him, alright, he’ll get pissy. And then I’ll get pissy.”

“You know it’s just a project, right? You two aren’t actually married.”

“Thank god. Could you imagine being married to that guy?” Tony shudders. “Scary.”

“Two weeks ago you said he was the bane of your existence. Now you have ‘inside things’ with him? You saw him last night?”

He sighs, shoulders dropping. Yeah, he doesn’t really have a good explanation for any of that.

The thing about himself, Tony’s found over time and trial, is that he really, really likes to press buttons. He likes to test variables, wants to see what would happen if he did something he wasn’t supposed to, and map out the world as it occurs in motion around him. Curiosity means he likes to test the parameters, to see what can yield, what will bite back.

More often than not that kind of impulsive brand of curiosity has gotten him in some sort of trouble. Turns out not everything and everyone appreciates being tested - and many things like to lash out when pressed.

Parker, Tony has found, is somebody that doesn’t yield or bite. If Tony was a betting man he’d have placed his money on the boy being more of a yielding type - but what he does is he presses buttons just as much as Tony does, buttons he didn’t even know he had to be pressed.

And that very much interests Tony.

He just doesn’t know what to do with that information, except to keep pressing.

“I’ll explain later,” Tony promises, mentally crossing his fingers. “In the meantime, can we forget about Parker and focus on my broken baby here?”

Rhodey relents, but Tony knows that look in his eye. He’ll be hearing about it later and at the most inconvenient time. And he’s gonna tell Pepper.

Wonderful.

He really should change Peter’s contact name in his phone.

---

By the time he leaves the Rhodes residence and heads to his next destination, his robot is in somewhat in working order again. It remains fairly immobile though, just until Tony can replace the damaged infrared and touch sensor. It clicks its metal claws sadly towards Tony in the passenger seat as he drives.

It’s a Roy Orbison kind of day, so the music is loud and the guitar is heavy as he makes the drive to Harlem.

And if Tony frees a hand to pat the bot on its’ metal head every so often, that’s his business.

When he reaches the other side of the city he parks in his usual space at a nearby lot and contemplates whether or not he should leave the malfunctioning bot in his car for the sake of being professional. It clicks at his jacket, weakly grasping the material as if on a plea - and damn, Tony knows the thing isn’t actually sentient but what kind of asshole would he be if he left it here for the day.

Heart squeezing with sympathy, Tony delicately places him in the backpack, leaving the zip partially open for ‘air’.

Next, snacks.

While he’s retrieving a pack (or two) of Reeses, he comes across Parker’s folder that he’d stashed there last night. Their conversation from earlier returns to the forefront of his mind.

Look, Parker might not be the knuckle-dragging, monosyllabic dumbass Tony initially suspected that he was, and yeah he was savvy as demonstrated during their trip to the rental market - and yeah, definitely smarter than his social circle would suggest, and is absolutely and a source of constant surprise to Tony - but is he AP Bio - or AP anything material?

Time to find out.

The first thing that Tony notices is that the notes are definitely not for Bio. They’re for Econ, as initially prescribed.

The second thing he notices, as he flicks through the papers, skimming over the complicated graphs and annotated research, is that what he’s reading is actually good.

Well, I’ll be darned, Tony thinks, eyes getting progressively wider as he flicks through the pages. Not bad at all.

Makes him wonder why Parker thought he was missing his Bio notes though.

The answer to that becomes clear when a crumpled envelope falls out of the stack onto Tony’s lap. He picks it up, at first thinking it’s a part of the research, but pauses. It’s open and it’s addressed to May Parker.

“Um,” he says.

It’s from Queens Presbyterian Hospital, which should make him drop it as if it were burning. It doesn’t, though. Either it’s meant to be included in the folder, or it’s not and that’s why Parker has been acting like a crazy-ex all morning.

Hmm. Tony sits there, torn, debating whether or not to look into it, the overdue stamp standing out against the crisp paper like a warning sign. On one hand, he’s running kinda late and, y’know, privacy or whatever -- on the other, his fingers are already itching to know what’s in it.

Mind your own business, he can already hear Rhodey saying, mind your own business, Tony.

Curiosity and a distinct lack of a moral compass wins, as always. Just a quick peek, that should be okay, right? The envelope is already open anyway, so, it’s not like anyone will be able to tell.

God, this is none of my business, he tells himself, even as he’s retrieving the letter from within and starts reading it.

Oh.

Tony quickly stashes the letter back into the envelope and back into the folder. Yep, definitely none of his business.

Yeah, he really shouldn’t have done that. Big fucking yikes on his behalf. And yep, there’s the guilt -- or at least he thinks the stomach churning is guilt, it could be the stale muesli bar he ate on the way.

Nonetheless, it hangs over him like a dark cloud as he picks up his backpack and heads out to the garage across the road. What kind of asshole looks into someone’s mail because they can’t help themselves. This dick, that’s who.

Fixing a grin he doesn’t really feel, he heads to the back office. He knocks on the window, ducking his head into the open door.

“Yo,” he waves to the man sitting behind the desk. “Sorry I’m late.”

“Hey kid,” the man looks up, smiling before his face drops. “Tony, your face. What happened?”

“This? It’s nothing --”

“-- is that why you couldn’t come to work yesterday? Not that I mind,” the man stands up. “Are you okay? Was it --”

“-- Was it nothing to worry about? Absolutely,” Tony holds his hands up in surrender. “Just an unfortunate encounter with a wild, feral squirrel in Central Park. I tell you, they’re deceivingly cute, but they’re pests. Totally out of control.”

“Tony.”

“Jarvis,” he interrupts, gesturing to the cars in the garage behind him. “C’mon. Look, let’s get to work, okay? Save the violins for later.”

And by later he means never.

The man sighs, world-weary, looking at him like he knows exactly what he’s thinking. At first he’s certain his boss is going to push the issue, but it must be a day for dodging bullets because he relents.

“Alright, kid. I got a ninety-four Ford sedan back there with your name on it. Busted fan belt, overheated engine. Probably needs a new set of spark plugs while you’re at it.”

With a grateful nod, Tony heads back, locating the vehicle in question. It’s rusted to all hell and probably not worth the cost of repair, but he gets stuck into it anyway, keen for a distraction. He sets his bag and bot down near him while Jarvis blasts Alice Cooper’s Poison.

Tony might not have all the answers to life’s problems, but this is something he knows how to fix.

---

He probably distracts himself a little too well, because by the time he’s wrapped up with the Ford it’s already five-thirty and he’s a mess of engine oil and coolant.

It’s only when Jarvis squeezes his shoulder and points to the clock on the far wall does he realise that he’s lost his sense of time. How the fuck is he supposed to clean up and get all the way from Harlem to Queens at this time of night?

“Ah, crap,” Tony mutters, setting down his socket-wrench in his toolbox. “I’m late.”

“Late for what? You got a hot date or something?” Jarvis asks, stepping back to give him some room as he rushes to the staff bathroom.

“What, no,” He calls back, running the faucet and pumping soap over his hands. “I gotta go see about a guy.” He struggles to hear his boss over the running water but he doesn’t have time to stop and figure it out.

“From school?”

“Yes, and a prime pain in my ass,” Tony mutters, drying his hands on his jeans, walking back into the garage. “Anyway, see you Monday, chief?”

His boss nods, passing Tony his earnings for the week in cash. Tony should have known to dash and run because he starts hearing the proverbial violins when Jarvis clamps a hand on his shoulder, squeezing in a way that is more paternal than Tony is comfortable with.

“You know you can call me, you have my number. You come up and see me and the missus whenever you want.”

Tony fake snores.

“Jarvis.”

“We have a spare room,” he insists, shrugging sheepishly and stepping back. “It’s yours at any time.”

“I see you enough, okay, don’t push it. I’ll see you Monday,” Tony draws him into a one-armed hug and claps him on the back. “Don’t you worry about me.”

“Don’t make me worry.”

“No promises,” Tony salutes, slinging his backpack on shoulder and walking backwards out of the garage to the street. “Hug the missus for me.”

Jarvis salutes back.

With that he sprints across the street when there’s a gap in traffic, bot snapping gently at his hair as he runs.

Sweaty and sore, he is full of energy, a sense of accomplishment coursing through his blood, like an afternoon of work can only provide. He should fire off a text, he thinks, as he starts the ignition and heads out onto the road, yeah. Let Parker know he will be late.

And he does genuinely mean to send a message at the next traffic stop, but then Queen starts playing on the radio and Tony isn’t a fool, okay, he turns that up loud.

Next traffic stop, he promises himself.

---

“I’m beginning to think you can’t read the time,” Parker opens the door with a scowl. “You said six.”

Wincing in the hallway, Tony looks at his phone. Six-fifty-nine. It’s not totally his fault, okay. There was a pile up along the way and traffic was a nightmare of ridiculous proportions. He swears he’s gonna be the first person to invent a commercially viable flying car just for the sake of personally avoiding road congestion.

“Yeah, so. Here’s the thing: I had things to do, okay, priorities --”

“You and your priorities, I swear to god --”

“Here,” Tony cuts him off, passing him his folder, letter neatly inside where it isn’t going to obviously slip out. “Your folder, dumbass.”

Peter grips it, holding it to his chest as he stares at Tony for a moment, before passing it to the nearest flat surface, a weathered and small table that holds their keys.

“Okay, thanks,” Peter nods, smiling grimly, looking behind his shoulder. “Appreciate it. You can go now.”

“So where are the Econ notes,” Tony blurts, wincing as he plays dumb. “I mean, if you had something prepared.”

Peter blinks, surprised. “Oh, uh. Um, It can wait until Monday, can’t it?”

“The assignment is due Wednesday.”

“Right. Um, just give me a sec --”

“Is that Tony?”

May appears behind Peter, smiling brightly. Tony waves, rocking back on his feet.

“Hey, Missus Parker.”

“Hey there, handsome,” she hip-checks her nephew, joining him in the doorway and glancing between the two. “You didn’t mention we were having company tonight, Pete.”

“He’s not handsome and he’s not staying --”

“-- I was just dropping something off,” he looks to Peter. “And excuse you, the lady has spoken and I have to agree. I am handsome. Some might even say that I’m debonair.”

“And some might say that you’re deplorable.”

“Hmm, I think you mean adorable.”

That prompts a smile out of Peter. He crosses his arms over his chest and tilts his chin up, all haughty.

“Tony Stark, you are many things, but adorable isn’t one of them.”

He leans in, pouting playfully. “Oh come on, Parker. I’m a little cute, aren’t I?”

“No.”

“Not even a little?”

“Uh, let me check,” Peter pauses before smiling sardonically. “Verdicts in - jury says you’re one-hundred-percent despicable. Sorry.”

"I’m sure I could sway the jury.”

“I think you mean you could pay the jury.”

Tony nods, pretending to be serious. “Well, yeah. You know, for consensus.”

Peter licks his lips, shifting closer.

“Consensus is important...”

“...Well, if you two are done,” May says after an extended period of silence, tying her hair back into a ponytail. “We were just about to head out to a Thai place around the corner. Tony, you should join us.”

“Oh, no, that’s okay. I should go --”

The rest of his words are cut off by a truly monstrous growl of his stomach. He winces, scrunching up his nose sheepishly. He probably should have eaten more than Reeses all afternoon.

“Well, I guess that settles that,” May says, stepping out of the doorway and beckoning Tony in. “Come in. Sorry about the mess.”

It’s with Peter still staring at him that he reluctantly enters their apartment, brushing past the other boy. It looks the same as it did the other week, mostly tidy and smelling like incense. There’s a sizeable stack of unfolded laundry on the dining table, however, that wasn’t there before.

Tony’s distracted by a pair of dancing-bulbasaur boxers sticking out of the pile when May leans in close to sniff at his hair.

“You’ve got something in your hair, honey. Is that paint?”

He runs his fingers through his hair, palm coming back streaked with green. “Oh, uh, radiator fluid,” he explains, holding up his hand.

“Can I ask what you did to your face?”

“I saved a homeless guy and his beef-sandwich from a pack of rabid, angry dogs. No need to call me a hero.”

May looks at him oddly. “Oh, well, if you say so. Go get yourself washed up and we can head out.”

The burn of Peter’s stare follows him all the way to their bathroom.

---

The meal is less awkward than Tony thought it would be.

Well, for him at least.

Over larb and khao pad they’d gotten through an informal interview with May about her experience as a caregiver with a single income. Not only was it informative for his own future financial independence, but she has been generous enough to speckle in colorful anecdotes of her nephew’s upbringing. Parker’s face has been getting progressively redder all night and it has nothing to do with the spice in his food.

Tony has enjoyed the evening thoroughly.

“ - and of course, we were lucky we hadn’t decided to go cheap on the health insurance. Especially when Pete here broke his wrist at gymnastics when he was eight.”

Tony barely holds back a snort.

“You did gymnastics, Parker?”

Peter tips his head back to stare at the ceiling and sighs. The flush seems to be creeping down his neck too, Tony observes gleefully. He stuffs a large mouthful of rice in his mouth to mitigate the urge to tease.

"Yes, he was very good, weren’t you, Pete? So talented, you should see his medals.”

“Stop, please.”

“C’mon, no need to be embarrassed, Pete, you were amazing,” she says. “You’re still a flexible little bug, aren’t you?”

Tony chokes on his rice.

Peter has his eyes squeezed shut and looks like he wants the earth to swallow him whole.

“May, I’m literally begging you.”

“Uh,” he beats at his chest with his fist, swallowing roughly. “So how long did you do that for?”

“Until I was fourteen.”

“Why’d you quit?”

There’s a very deliberate, weighted pause. May and Peter share a look between them and Tony gets a deeply uncomfortable sense that he’s just stuck his foot in it. Retract, he thinks, already regretting opening his mouth.

“Well,” May clears her throat, her tone light. “After my husband, Pete’s uncle Ben died, we moved away and we had to make some... financial cuts at the time.”

The bite he’s just taken goes to ash in his mouth. God, he really is a big idiot isn’t he. He’d assumed that May never got married to the man in the photos or that they’d just divorced, he didn’t realise that he’d passed - and so recently, too. Welling up with shame, he can’t stop himself from glancing at Peter, who’s staring at the table, lips pursed.

“Oh,” he clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to - I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“It’s okay,” May waves her hand dismissively, but her smile is strained. “Anyway, what about you, Tony? You’re severely asthmatic, right? That must have been hard, growing up if you wanted to play sports.”

Tony’s eyes widen.

“Yes, um, so hard. Luckily I’m not really an exercise-y kinda guy. I personally prefer to keep a heart rate below eighty beats per minute.”

“Did you have any hobbies growing up?”

“Yeah, driving my parents crazy,” Tony says, glad for the shift from the somber topic. “Escaping from nannies, seeing how quickly I could get them to quit.”

“You like tinkering,” Peter says quietly, looking up. “You mentioned, before. Cars and stuff.”

He shrugs, starting to feel as if he’s under the microscope, especially when Peter looks at him, eyes glittering with thinly-veiled interest.

“I mean, I don’t know. I like - building stuff, I guess. Machines and robots, y’know, cars. It’s like, whatever.”

“You want to be the next Elon Musk or somethin’?” Peter asks, not unkindly, resting his chin on his hand.

“Nah, I wanna be the first Tony Stark,” he scratches his cheek, suddenly bashful. It’s an uncommon feeling for him. One hard to avoid, however, particularly when there is a boy who Tony doesn’t really hate who’s asking about his life like it might matter.

He clears his throat. “Anyway, mostly it was just me cataloguing all the ways I could make the vein in my fathers’ head pop. I’m still working on that.”

May looks between them, smiling.

“Sounds like you were a handful.”

“Sure was.”

Still is, apparently, no matter how much he tries to stay out of the way.

The silence that follows is punctuated by the sounds of cutlery scraping across plates, of shrinking ice cubes rattling against glass. It feels pensive at the same time as it does thorny, like Tony opened the door to let someone in but accidentally let out a few ghouls.

And despite knowing he’d stepped on a landmine with the Parkers, he can’t help but wonder what other pieces of the puzzle he’s missing. Why Peter doesn’t live with his parents. Not that Tony is invested in him or anything.

He just doesn’t like mysteries, that’s all.

May excuses herself after to head to the bathroom not long after. It’s during that time that the waiter brings the check, which Tony takes immediately, slipping in some of the cash he’d gotten earlier, despite Peter’s protests. He was gonna do it anyway, even if he didn’t have the letter in the back of his mind.

“Stop paying for me,” Peter says after he passes the check-book back to the waiter. “Your family is rich, I get it. I’ve told you, I don’t need your charity.”

Tony shakes his head. It’s not worth mentioning that the only money he spends doesn’t come from his family.

“It’s not charity. Do you really think I’m that nice, eh? C’mon. Maybe I like lording it over you.”

“Well, at some point I’m going to pay you back.”

“And when that time comes I’m not going to accept your money.”

“You will,” Peter smiles wryly down at his plate. “I have my ways.”

“As do I, sweetums. Now, do me a favour: shut up and finish your larb.”

Peter does, but something about him shifts. It seems more quiet and contemplative, his eyes staying longer on Tony than they normally would. He wants to tell him to take a picture, but for once, Tony thinks it’s probably best if he keeps his mouth shut.

---

Back at the apartment, Peter goes to retrieve his ‘Econ notes’, taking the folder from the table and retreating to his bedroom. In the interim, May offers to let Tony stay over, inviting him for what he’s sure would be a rousing game of Mario Kart.

He politely declines.

“You sure? Winner gets to choose a movie.”

“I should really get home,” he says. “Thanks though. And thanks for dinner.”

“No problem. Thank you for paying, you didn’t have to do that. Let me pay you back.”

“No need. Think of it as payment for your services and letting us pick your brain tonight.”

She reluctantly accepts with a lot less pride than what her nephew displayed and that makes Tony feel a little sick, because it’s evident that she’s a proud and stubborn woman by nature. Her acceptance, albeit laboured, speaks volumes as to the reasoning behind it.

What takes him by surprise is when she hugs him goodbye and kisses his cheek.

“You’re a good egg, Anthony. Don’t be a stranger, okay?”

It’s probably the most maternal touch he’s had since, well. Probably since he last went to stay with Jarvis and his wife. Fidgeting in the hold, he’s not sure if he wants to squirm or to sink into it.

May leaves when Peter comes back in, a familiar stack of notes in his hands that he passes to Tony.

“You gonna kiss me goodbye, too?”

“What?” Peter blinks.

"Uh, never mind,” Tony waves the papers at him. “Thanks for this.”

Peter looks around to make sure they’re alone before leaning in rather promptly.

“Wow, hold up on the proximity there,” Tony inches back, startled by their sudden closeness. “I was joking about the kiss --”

“You read the letter, didn’t you,” Peter whisper-hisses.

“What? Letter? What letter?” Tony says, voice strangled. “I don’t know of any letter.”

He gets a painful poke in his chest for his lies.

“Don’t play dumb. It wasn’t where I left it.”

“I’m not -- ow, quit poking me.”

“Then stop lying. You’re unbelievable -- don’t you know that opening someone else’s mail is a crime?”

Tony’s shoulders slump as he concedes.

“Look, it was an accident, it just slipped out. And also, it’s not technically a crime, if the envelope was already open.”

“Oh and the letter magically opened itself and forced you to read it.”

“That could be argued.”

“Why couldn’t you mind your own business?“

Sick of being poked, he shoves the papers between his arm and his ribs to hold them and takes Peter’s fingers in his hands, squeezing the digits when they struggle to break free of his hold.

“I should have, I admit it - I didn’t think, okay, I’m sorry. Is she okay?”

Peter stops struggling, looking over his shoulder again.

“I don’t know,” he leans in again to whisper, “I only found it yesterday, I haven’t spoken to her yet. Look, I know you hate me, but can you please not tell anyone about this?”

“Why would I tell anyone?”

“I don’t know, because you’re the devil, and you get a kick out of seeing me suffer?”

“True, but I’m not going to tell anyone. Promise. That would make me look like an asshole and you like a martyr. Ergo, I shut my cake hole and continue looking better than you.”

“You’re a real prince charming,” the other boy huffs, but seems to take him at face value. “If I find out differently I’m going to come after you. You’re going to need dental work afterwards.”

Tony lets go of their joined hands, balling his fists and raising them to his face, mimicking what the other boy had done last night.

“You wanna tousle, huh?”

He gets a light shove out the doorway for his attitude.

“Alright, smartass. Get the fuck outta here already.”

“Going, going. Goodnight, princess.”

He mock bows, peering up under his eyelashes, momentarily arrested as he watches Parker roll his eyes and bite his bottom lip in an attempt to smother a smile.

His heart continues to beat a bit oddly all the way down to the car, where he sits in contemplative silence for a few moments until the sound of metal clicking shifts him out of his thoughts.

“Oh, hey you,” he coos, gently retrieving his bot from his bag and placing it in the passenger seat, instantly feeling bad. “I didn’t think I would take so long. I’m sorry.”

Placing a seatbelt over the bot and buckling him in, Tony begins to narrate his night to him as he pulls off the curb and begins driving.

“I guess that Parker isn’t so bad,” he tells the bot, who swivels its head in response to his voice. “I mean, he can’t dress for shit and has questionable tastes in friends - oh, and cannot hold his liquor - but I dunno, baby-bot. He’s okay. Don’t tell anyone I said that, though -- and oh my god, did I mention he did gymnastics, what a fucking dork...”

The thoughts churn and buoy him until he pulls up to his house nearly an hour later. From the driveway he can see his fathers office light still on.

The sight of it makes his stomach drop, all good cheer gone in an instant.

“Damn,” Tony whispers to himself, tapping his knuckles against the steering wheel. This time of night on a Saturday can only mean one thing and he is really not in the mood to be in the crosshairs of whatever his father and Stane are up to.

But before he can work himself into a worry his phone vibrates in his pocket.

> hey, look, thanks for not being a total dick tonight about everything > and last night as well, I guess > yknow what i mean < ur welcome < by the way, i’m proud of you > for what < not finishing off ur aunts beer tonight < takes strength < asking for help is the first step > omfg i take back what i said > ur the worst < and ur a pain in my ass > they have creams for that u know > anyway, g’nite, butthole > p.s. you’re still not adorable Tony smiles down at his phone. < goodnight bambi The bot clicks at him, breaking him out of his train of thought.

“Don’t look at me like that. Let’s go in, but you gotta keep quiet, okay.”

He manages to avoid detection and attention from anyone, despite accidentally stepping on a squeaky floorboard. Maybe it had something to do with the record player and raucous laughter coming from the office.

In any case, Tony’s just happy to make it back to his bedroom. There, he toes off his sneakers and starts getting ready for bed, stashing the leftover cash into a drawer.

It makes him think about Peter’s reluctance for Tony to pay for over the last couple of instances, and how freaking annoying that is. And rude.

Honestly, the dude should count himself as one of the lucky guys - Tony is not that magnanimous. He doesn’t experience an impulsive, unthinking eagerness to provide for just anybody.

Oh.

Tony stills in the middle of his bedroom.

Oh no.

He knows what this is.

“This is bad.”

---

tagging: @bylerboyfriends @ravens-starker-stuff, @starker-rays, @ironspiderstarker, @muse-of-gods, @notfor-temporaryuse, @tabbycat1220, @sugarfreecult, @rebel13lion39, @plueschpop, @spideravocados, @jellybbunny, @booktrashme, @elfkido, @mycatislickingmybedsheets, @queerghostboyo, @disneyprincessdominatrix, @cherrygoldlove @starkerflowers @starkeristheendgame @thewolffearsher @starkersugar , @starkerforlife6969, @css1992, @parkerrbitch, @fuckmemrstark, @blankblankityblank, @ilovemoreid, @blaquedecember, @killmylonelysoul, @notfor-temporaryuse, @arvaen

#starker #ironspider #tony stark x peter parker #high school au

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waatermelon-sugaar · 4 years ago

Text

Choose Me

Pairing = Richard x GN reader

Words = 1.4k

Summary = You meet Richard at a fancy-dress competition

Warnings = some mistakes, I wrote this quite quickly

A/N = Prompt no. 18 requested by @phoenixhalliwell as part of my 300 follower celebration, thanks so much for the request, hope you like it! Prompt was “Choose me” w/ Richard and bolded in text. First time writing him, hope it’s ok!

Posted to AO3

Masterlist

***

Fancy dress competitions were the worst.

And your sister, Hannah, had decided to throw a fancy dress competition in her garden, all to raise money for charity. Which meant you couldn’t complain and you had to make an effort.

It was all part of an annual summer party she threw, starting in mid-afternoon, finishing late, with children running around, a barbeque for the food, and a couple of games. And this year she’d also chosen to do fancy dress. Conveniently she was exempt, because she was going to judge.

When you’d asked why you couldn’t judge, she told you “Too many cooks spoil the broth.” And also that “it would be embarrassing if the host’s family didn’t dress up!” But apparently not that embarrassing, because neither she nor Hayden, your brother-in-law, had dressed up.

It wasn’t the dressing up that bothered you so much, more it was deciding what to wear. What if everyone else had much better ideas, or went along with a theme, or…?

In the end you’d chosen a simple costume, finding a ghostbusters jumpsuit in town and deeming it to be good enough. You were regretting all your life choices at the moment, however, the sun beating onto your shoulders in the late afternoon heat, and you were sure that your tank top and shorts underneath were soaked in sweat.

The garden had been decorated nicely, bunting around the boundaries, fairy lights pinned up for later in the evening when it turned dark. But for the meantime, you were left standing next to a stranger who was more interested in talking to the person on their other side, leaving you feeling like a lemon, standing there, not knowing anyone.

You glanced back to the darkness of the kitchen, where it was no doubt much cooler, and aimed a glare at where you were sure Hannah was standing. What was taking so long you had no idea, but you could see her talking to someone else.

Your nieces, nephews, and their friends milled around in front of you, a couple chattering about the merits of each costume in amusing seriousness while they ate the treats available. Hayden was playing a game of football with a couple of kids in the shade at the other end of the garden and you huffed in impatience.

Hannah had claimed she’d choose a fair, impartial judge (and you ‘didn’t fit that criteria’, when you’d opened your mouth to argue), someone she knew from work, she’d said, but you weren’t prepared for who stepped out of the kitchen with her. The first thing you noticed was his moustache, big, but neat. His hair was curly, and greying slightly, a stray curl flopping onto his forehead.

He looks nervous as the two of them step out of the house, and although you don’t care, you never did, about this competition, suddenly you really, really want to win.

They took their time going down the line, accepting donations from each of the entrants and marking something on their clipboards.

Finally, finally, they reached you.

“This is Richard,” was all you got by way of introductions as you handed over your donation. You gave him your hand to shake, smiling and telling him your name.

“Nice to meet you Richard.”

Hannah had already seen your costume, so she soon returned back to the cool darkness of the kitchen, so you walked up to Richard, where he was watching the football game, clipboard hanging at his side.

“Dare I ask who you picked as the best?” You ask, standing next to him.

“That would be telling.” He has nice eyes, you notice, dappled brown in the sunlight and with laughter lines at the side which crease as he talks.

“Choose me.” You say. “Choose me and…” You flounder for a second, flirting a strangely unfamiliar territory after so long without practice. “... and I’ll give you a kiss.”

Your eyes meet his before he ducks his head, a faint blush rising up his cheeks. “I … ok.” The words are quiet enough that you nearly miss them, but, regardless, you lean forwards and give him a quick peck on the lips.

You don’t give him a chance to do anything about it, drawing away, opening your eyes, and watching as he leans forwards slightly, trying to follow your mouth. You grin and Richard’s suddenly fascinated by the football game, shifting his feet, while you can’t help but grin wider. His lips were soft, and his moustache tickled you, but he moves closer so the backs of your hands were touching.

The rest of the afternoon is spent flirting, and you learn that both of you are rusty when it comes to flirting. The winner of the fancy dress competition is announced just before dusk after some passionate arguing between Richard and Hannah, before you are given second place, and the winner is a friend of Hannah’s, wearing an elaborately patterned Belle gown.

You can’t be bitter, she does look good.

“Sorry you can’t take back your kiss.” Richard has approached you this time.

You bite back a smile. “Maybe you could walk me home and kiss me properly as compensation? Away from all these children?”

Richard leans forward into your personal space as his eyes flick down to your lips, again. “I’d like that.”

So the two of you say your goodbyes, a short process considering you both know a combined total of 5 people at the party, leaving the glittering fairy lights and light music behind for the yellow of the streetlights and sounds of distant cars.

Hannah had given you an annoyingly knowing look as you’d said goodbye, hardly able to contain herself with excitement. “Coffee tomorrow?” may have sounded like a perfectly innocent request, but seeing as Hannah was just short of winking, you knew exactly what she wanted, rolling your eyes but nodding in agreement.

“I’ll text you,” you promise, already walking away, turning to go through the house, where you can already see the outline of Richard through the glass in the front door, waiting for you.

It’s cooler this side of the house, less people, and a lack of fire, but you prefer it this way. You didn’t dare take off your costume all afternoon, not even to wrap it around your waist, and the cool air feels light on your face.

The sky is clear and beautiful, stars peeking out between the glow of the streetlamps as you and Richard walk home. There’s still a faint glow of orange sun peeking over the horizon, casting deep purple above the two of you. You stay quiet for the most part, and you know that you’re too busy thrumming with anticipation to think of something to say, although you can’t speak for Richard.

“Well this is me.” You’ve made it to your house, and you suddenly think that you don’t want the night to end. Standing at the edge of your front yard, you glance back at the house. “Do you want to come in? For a … for a drink?”

When you look back at Richard, he’s stepped closer. “Better not,” he says, and you can’t help but feel disappointed. “Maybe I could take you out tomorrow night though?”

His voice is soft, and you bite your lip so you don’t grin like a fool, nodding your head. His eyes are starting to close a little, darting around your face, centering on your lips.

You close the space between you, pulling your arms around his neck and kissing him.

It’s ten times better than the one earlier.

His lips are still soft, but he takes more agency this time, biting your bottom lip, and when you open your mouth, eagerly dipping his tongue in. His arms are on your body, hands feeling like they’re running everywhere, like he can’t get enough of you, can’t believe he’s actually touching you.

It’s messy, and a little desperate, and you feel a bit like a teenager again, having to kiss out of sight of your parents. Your bodies are pressed against each other, and it takes all your self control not to wrap a leg around his waist. Richard’s pressing into you, and you can feel the weight of his stomach against yours, the way he purposefully keeps his hips away from yours.

Your hands thread into his hair, tugging a little when the two of you separate, gasping for air. “Meet me here at 7?” You ask. It takes a minute for him to remember what you were talking about before he nods, eyes sparkling in the growing darkness.

You steal another quick kiss before you leave him, and when you invite him in the next night, he doesn’t say no.

***

Thanks for reading! Reblogs and comments mean the world to me 🥰🥰🥰

#richard alonso muñoz x reader #Richard Alonso Muñoz #the letter room #richard alonso munoz #the letter room fanfic

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izzyfandoms · 4 years ago

Text

Lies Have Never Tasted So Sweet

SHIP: Emceit

CHARACTERS: Emile Picani, Janus Sanders and Remus Sanders

WARNING: Lying, mild sexual implications from Remus, swearing

GENERAL TAGLIST: @quillfics42 @aj-draws @phantomofthesanderssides @phlying-squirrel @sly-is-my-name-loving-is-my-game @because-were-fam-ily @imtryingthisout @a-creepycookie @emo-disaster @littlestr @spooky-scary-virgil @fuyel @mimsidoodles @soupgremlin @aroaceagenderfluid @birdsbookshiddeninrealbirdsskin @quirkalurk @gingers-trashy-stuff @iinyxtello @justaqueercactus @melodiread @mrbubbajones @glassferns @pun-master-logan @gayturtlez

Masterpost

A Series Of Soulmate AUs Masterpost

Emile was someone who always liked to look on the bright side of things.

He liked to stay positive – to be cheerful and happy as much as possible, for both himself and those he surrounded himself with. Happiness spread happiness, and he was a sunshiny influence on everyone around him.

But sometimes it was difficult to stay positive, with Emile’s soulbond being the way it was. Out of all the different kinds of soulbonds in the world – and there were many, many kinds – the ability to tell when your soulmate was lying was the one that led to the least number of meetings. It wasn’t a way to communicate, nor was it a way for them to track each other down, nor was it a way to identify their first meeting. It was useful for soulmates who’d already met, but didn’t really come in handy when trying to find them in the first place.

It was difficult, sometimes, to stay positive that one day Emile would meet the love of his life.

He tried, though. He tried to be positive and hopeful, and he also tried to be truthful – or stick to little white lies that hurt no one, because he needed to make sure his soulmate could still find him, even if dishonesty made him uncomfortable.

Apparently, his soulmate had no such qualms.

The fireworks that burst in Emile’s chest whenever his soulmate told a lie were undoubtably a good feeling: sometimes making him so bubbly he giggled. But their frequency was often... concerning, as he could never forget that every firework was set off by a lie.

What kind of person was Emile’s soulmate, if they lied so much and so often?

And what did that say about Emile, that that kind of person was his soulmate?

But Emile wasn’t one to judge so quickly. All he wanted was to meet his soulmate, and he knew he’d love them no matter what.

The first thing Emile noticed when he woke up was the firework-like feeling in his heart, earlier than usual, but not too surprising. It happened once. Twice. Thrice. Four times in a row, before it calmed down again, and Emile took a deep breath, staring up at the ceiling as he waited for it to start up again.

To his surprise, it didn’t, so he sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He patted his bedside table a few times, before finding his glasses and slipping them on.

The fireworks returned once in the shower, startling and causing him to almost slip, though he caught himself just in time.

Twice during breakfast.

(The first happened while he was pouring milk into cereal, making him jolt and spill milk over the side of the bowl.)

And then it didn’t happen again until Emile reached the building he worked at, which was simultaneously both a disappointment and a relief: a feeling which Emile was rather used to at this point. As he approached the front doors, he could hear two young men about his age having a conversation just between the building Emile worked at and the next. They were only a few feet away from him, and talking loudly enough, so Emile overheard them without having to strain to listen.

“Wow, I just love the shirt you have on, Remus,” said a masculine voice, dripping with sarcasm.

The moment the words left his mouth, a firework went off in Emile’s chest, and he paused, his hand freezing halfway to the handle of the door. He swallowed. Was that a coincidence, just some interesting timing? Or...

Another voice laughed loudly, followed by the sound of someone clapping another on the back. “Ha! I see you’re still as dickish as ever, Jan. Never change!”

“And I see your clothes are just as clean as ever.”

Another firework.

Emile turned his head, finally taking a look at the man with either impeccable timing or a soul that would fit his perfectly. He was short, though Emile was, too, with curly black hair, a yellow button-up shirt and a black bowler hat on his head. There was a shiny, coiled snake-shaped earring hanging from the one ear that Emile could see, and he wore a pair of clean, lemon yellow gloves.

His expression was amused, with a half-smirk and raised eyebrows, and he was by far the most attractive man Emile had ever seen. Emile’s breath caught in his throat, and he knew.

He knew.

Well, he figured he should probably check first, just in case he was wrong, but he knew.

Emile pulled his hand back from the door handle. He snuck a quick glance at his watch. There was still half an hour left until his first patient of the day arrived. He let out a sigh of relief. He had time to wait, and listen to the man who he hoped would start lying again.

His eavesdropping was probably incredibly unsubtle, but the man wasn’t facing Emile, his attention fully on the friend in front of him, so he fortunately didn’t notice.

“How is Roman?” Emile’s maybe-soulmate asked his friend.

The friend blew a raspberry. “He sucks! He’s so annoying. Yesterday, he stole my cereal, and then he wouldn’t even admit to it! Asshole.”

The maybe-soulmate clicked his tongue.

“You have my sympathies,” he spoke in that same smooth, sarcastic tone, with a slight hiss on the ‘s’, making his friend let out an exaggerated mock-offended sound, hand over heart.

(Firework.)

“Rude! You know, maybe you’d get laid more if you weren’t such a bitch.”

“I’m sure.”

(Firework.)

“Whatever. Did you know that ducks have corkscrew-shaped penises?”

The maybe-soulmate let out a disgusted sound. “Wow. I’m so glad you told me that.” (Firework.) He then let out a sigh. “Why are you like this?” He asked in a regular tone.

His friend shrugged and grinned at him. “Dunno.”

Emile’s heart was pounding harder and harder with every firework that went off inside of him, so loud that he could feel it in his ears. His hands were shaking and he was sure his staring was probably very obvious. It was a wonder he hadn’t been noticed by the pair, yet, though a mother with her child had given him a weird look as they walked past him.

“Well, as fun as this conversation is-” (Firework.) “Don’t you have work, now? It’ll piss Remy off if you’re late, you know how he gets.”

“Ugh, who cares? Fuck that bitch.”

“You should care, he might fire you.”

“He’s my cousin! He won’t fire me.”

“It’s Remy. You’re annoying, of course he would.”

The tiniest of fireworks went off in Emile’s chest at the word ‘annoying’. Apparently, the maybe-soulmate was fond enough of his friend that he only sort of found him annoying.

The friend huffed and crossed his arms. “Whatever. I don’t care.”

“You should care. If you’re unemployed you won’t be able to afford all that inedible food you like so much.”

“I can eat garbage!”

“Literally, how are you still alive? You’re going to poison yourself and die young.”

Emile waited for a firework that never came.

The friend shrugged again, showing that he apparently had no qualms about poisoning himself and dying young. The maybe-soulmate sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes for a brief moment as he took a deep breath.

“What am I, your mother?” He asked his friend. “Go on, shoo!” He made shooing gestures with both hands. “Get to work!”

The friend tilted his head back and cackled, but began to walk backwards in the gestured direction.

“Ha, kinky!” He called out as he turned and continued to walk down the street.

“There is nothing kinky about me making you go to work so you don’t get fired,” the maybe-soulmate shouted back, louder than he probably intended, as his expression turned sheepish at the few stares that came his way after that.

He sighed again, and Emile was suddenly struck by the realisation that he really, really needed to talk to this man now, before he walked away, or he might never get the chance to find his soulmate again. And he was now almost certain that this man was his soulmate. So many fireworks at just the right times had to mean something. This couldn’t have just been a coincidence.

He took a deep breath, grounding himself and clenching his hands into fists.

Then, he marched over to the man he hoped was his soulmate – perhaps a little too determined and aggressive, as the man gave him a slightly alarmed, confused look when he stopped in front of him.

The first thing that slipped from Emile’s mouth was a lie.

“My name isn’t Emile Picani,” he said, before cringing internally.

Perhaps that wasn’t the best introduction.

The other man gave him a bewildered look, but the moment the lie came out, his hand shot up to cover his heart.

“What?”

“I- just- hear me out. Humour me. Please lie to me, just- just quickly. I’m testing something.”

Realisation crossed the other man’s face, and his eyes widened. He looked Emile over quickly: a down and up that was over in an instant – just a quick flick of his eyes – but made Emile’s heart beat harder and faster.

“That’s-” the other man breathed. “Okay. Uh... I hate your cardigan.”

Firework.

“I hate your hat,” Emile said back, and the reacting twitch of the other man’s eyebrows at just the right time made him feel like he was floating.

“Your make-up is appalling.”

Firework.

“I don’t like your hair.”

“Wow...” the other man looked back at him with an astonished expression that Emile was sure was mirrored on his own face. “That’s- that’s not a coincidence.”

Emile shook his head. “No, I... I don’t think it is.”

“That’s- you’re my-”

“-Soulmate,” Emile finished.

The other man took a deep breath. “Wow...” he repeated.

“Yeah...”

There was a beat.

Then, the other man lifted and held out one gloved hand for Emile to shake. Emile took it without hesitation, shaking it easily and enthusiastically. Before he could stop himself, the delight that was filling up inside of him bubbled out of him with a giggle, and the other man gave Emile a soft smile in return that made him feel like he could do anything.

Climb a million mountains. Dance amongst a million stars.

It felt like he could do anything, anything he wanted, just as long as this man kept looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky.

“I’m Janus,” he finally introduced himself. “Janus Sanders.”

“Emile Picani.”

Janus’s smile turned into an amused half-smirk. “Yeah,” he said. “I got that.”

“I, um...” Emile trailed off, finally releasing Janus’s hand and adjusting his pastel pink tie. “I have to go – work. I have a patient coming soon, and I have to finish my paperwork before then. But, um... can I get your number, maybe?”

“Absolutely.”

Emile smiled, relieved, especially at the distinct lack of a firework in his chest. The astonishment and enthusiastic smile on Janus’s face spoke for themselves well enough, but it was always nice to know for sure. They exchanged numbers quickly, before pocketing their phones again.

“I suppose I’ll see you around, Emile,” Janus said, speaking his name slowly, like he was tasting and savouring it: like dessert.

It made Emile feel warm and fuzzy inside.

“Have a horrible day,” Emile said.

Janus’s smile grew at the resulting firework, making Emile’s matching smile grow, too.

“Have a horrible day.”

(Firework.)

#me #writing #emceit #sanders sides #sanders shorts #emile picani #deceit sanders #janus sanders #sympathetic deceit #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #soulmate au #human au #a series of soulmate aus #fluff

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we-with-the-lgbtqfanfiction · 4 years ago

Note

Aged up Avatar Aang x Male reader: When Aang went in the ice his lover the reader stopped ageing because they were destined to live side by side. When they meet again at King Bumi’s palace where reader is a guest, the reader and Aang have some hot sex(Bottom Aang)

(After the fight with Ozai you are 20 [120] and Aang is 19 [119]) (fated soulmates as requested)

_____

You were meditating. That's what you've been doing a lot since you're boyfriend Aang disappeared. But a few months ago you felt a tugging in your heart. You know it must have been Aang he was your soulmate after all. You know he wasn't dead but that feeling inside you made it clear that you were right and as he was your soulmate, your fated pare. Once he stopped aging so did you. Bumi understood that to in his own way. Wacky as he was, he wasn't stupid.

~~~~~

So when you saw Aang again was after the whole 'fight' with Ozai.

And of course King Bumi made a party to celebrate his old friend Aang the avatar's Victory and made you the guest of honor since he knew what relationship you had with the bald, arrow tattooed young man.

The music was soft. A band cheerfully playing and singing. People danced, drank and eat. Bumi was laughing and cheering to the music. The party started up nicely. People cheered and clapped as the avatar walked in. What a great start to a new day. Once less people where preoccupied with the avatar

you walked up to the shorter boy, smiling at him. Aang looked confused for a moment then jumped into your arms once he understood. It was you finally he got to see you again, tears of joy falling from his eyes as he snuggled up to you. The whole Gaang we're confused. Katara didn't say anything looking at you cautiously and curiously. Then Sokka spoke. "Hey, bud. Who's this guy?"

Zuko then also speak up. "You both look pretty close. Is he a friend of yours?"

Aang let out a soft laugh and shock his head. "He's my soulmate and boyfriend!" He exclaimed cheerfully.

Sokka Makes an exaggerated face, Zuko's head tilt's but doesn't give much of a reaction besides that. Toph just smile's and shrugs her shoulders saying. "Aang told me a while ago. He wasn't really keeping it a secret."

Katara pouted and crossed her arms. "You could have told me Aang, i wouldn't have judged." She says with a sigh then smiles. "As long as you're happy we're happy." Zuko put his arm around Sokka and nodded.

Aang looked at them with a big smile. "Thanks guys! Hey. Eh. Would you guys be alright if I go hang out with y/n. My boyfriend and I haven't seen each other for so long and you know.." he said rubbing the back of his neck.

Katara smiled and nodded. "Go ahead Aang. You haven't seen him in a while, right? I'm sure you miss him. So go catch up with him."

Once Aang heard that he nodded excitedly and grabbed your hand.

You chuckled pulling Aang back and onto your chest. Where do you think you're going~ why not follow me instead~ Bumi has a guest room prepared for me. Why don't we catch up there, love~" you said huskily in his ear making the shorter boy shiver and turn a soft shade of pink. Aang nodded and let you lead him to the prepared guest room, you made sure to ask your old friend Bumi for the most comfortable bed he could offer since you wanted to get your boyfriend as happy and comfy as he can.

---

Once you were at the door to your guest room, you let go of Aang's hand to open the door to the chamber. You bowed doing a hand gestures as to say come on in as you and Aang laughed at your formality. Walking in you closed the door behind you both.

"Anng.~ I've missed you.~" you said with a hum lowering your head to kiss Aang's neck giving it a little nibble leaving a light pink hickey. The avatar whimpered and jumped back in surprised blushing vibrantly. "Wha.. what?" The shorter boy mumbled in shock but walked back a bit closer to cling to your arm. You chuckled at his actions and answer "I've missed you and wanted to touch you. Isn't that ok, little monk." Using the old nickname you used to always call him more like, tease him. You got a smile from him once he heard the nickname and then felt his lips on yours. Now it was your turn to smile, your soulmate was to cute. No matter how badass he was infront of others when he was alone with you he was always putty in your hands just like now. You held his hand guiding him to the bed and kissed his hand then his neck. Aang groaned, His leg lifted, knee pressed into your croche.

Making the younger man feel the hard on of the man on top of him making him gulp nervously. Mustering all the courage he could he let out a giggle and said. "I'm really affecting you, hmm~"

You let out a chuckle from hearing that and said with a breathy and teasing tone. "More then you'd think, lover boy.~" which made Aang shudder and tremble. You pressed your bulge onto him and heard a moan.

"This is going to be our first time won't it?~ while at the temple we couldn't really do this, tho, we were each other's first kiss~ I want more then that~ please tell me you want me to?" You said nibbling and kissing his ear.

Aang let out a shaky breath and nodded. "I.. I want you too, y/n. Please." With his confirmation and consent,

you started by taking of his orange shawl and yellow shirt dropping them on the side table. Then lifted off your shirt and threw it haphazardly on the floor. You slip one hand on his hips as you kissed his chest lowering and taking his nipple around your mouth grazing it with your teeth gently.

Aang let out a gasp and a low moan trusting his hips upward giving light friction to both of your clothed crouches. You heaved in same air.

"F*ck. damn, love.~ you're really getting into this aren't you, my naughty monk.~ are you enjoying the foreplay? Or maybe you want to start getting fully undressed and get to the love making?~"

Aang's mouth gaped, closing and opening wordlessly trying to find the best words in his flustered and horny state. He wanted to say something playful something that might make you understand how unbelievably yet nervously ready he was to do this with you.

He wrapped his legs around your hips and gridded his hips causing friction between you both and said. "Don't tease me anymore y/n, please. I want you inside me. I want more then just foreplay. I want more of you~" he said that in the most playful tone he could without stopping his hips, which made his voice tremble a bit from the pleasure.

You let out a sweet laugh as you moaned while Aang continuely ruting his hips forward.

"Ahh~ Then let's get you out of the rest of your clothes, I made sure to be prepared.~ I wanted to make sure our first time will feel amazing~" You opened the drower and took out some oil.

You smoothly put it on the counter. Then you grab Aang's pants and underwear off in one go. You hear a gasp from under you. You look down and see his semi erection for the first time 'cute' you thought. You touch the tip gently, teasingly then slide you hand down it. Wrapping you're fingers around the length stroking it at a slow pace you duck down kissing the head then lick from the base upwards and blow on it cheekily. You hear moans and whines coming from your lover, loving the noises he makes. But now it was time to prep him.

Your about to grab the oil but feel the arrow tattooed young man hands around one of your own and brings it to his mouth, you smirk and stick out three fingers and feel the warm wet feeling of his tongue around them arousing you even more which you didn't think you could have, until now. You wanted to tease him so much more but instead said. "You're such a good boy for me, baby." As Aang's cheeks flushed red you chuckled. Not wanting to waste any more time you slide your fingers out his mouth with a pop.

With your clean hand you brought him close and started making out with him. Your hand slide of his face roaming downwards. Your wet fingers rubbed at his entrance and swirling a finger around the ring of muscle. You know you'd have to use a lot of oil to loosen him up enough for your size. You grabbed the container in one hand and started pouring some into your hand, swirling the liquid between your fingers to warm it up a bit with your body heat. Once your fingers felt lubed enough you chuckled and with your clean, you caressed his hip leaning down and whispered. "I'm going to put a finger in so relax, love~ relax your body for me and you'll feel more pleasant for when I really f*ck you~ you're my good boy aren't you?~"

Aang let out a whiny moan. He was inexperienced with all this. It made he's head spin. Yet nodded his head and cheekily said. "Give me all you've got!" Giving you a wink.

"Ohh~ Is that so?~ if we're playing that game~ I was going to but now I'll try extra hard~ I hope your prepared to eat those words~" you said in a deep plotting tone.

You looked deep into his eyes then locked lips with him teeth nibbling his lips, he gasps and then you shove your tongue in his mouth tongues swirling around each other and while he was distracted by that instead of slowly sliding in a finger you slammed two in alright moving trying to find his prostate and scissoring ever so often. Aang tried letting out a moaned screaming but your kissing blocked it out. You smiled into the kiss then sucked on Aang's tongue finishing our the make out session you kissed his neck then went up to nibble his ear. Your heavy breath hitting it making the air bender flush dark pink. "This is what you want, my little monk~ Right?~"

"Yes!" That's all Aang's mouth could let out with all the moans and heavy breathing. His mind felt cloudy almost he felt everything so strongly. It is his first time after all. Trying to get another sentence out he took some time to even his breath. "I like it y/n. Please continue!"

You didn't show it but you were relieved by his answer. You want him to feel good after all. You slowed your thrusts every now and again as to tease him. Then you heard a loud moan "There! Do it again! Please I need it.." The last bit of his sentence was more quiet and breathy you almost didn't here it. You kept on hitting his prostate dead on and non stop babbles and begging came out your lovers mouth. Pulling out your fingers you grabbed the jar of oil and lather your throbbing erection. Then added some more oil to Aang entrence making it easier on the both of you. You rubbed his thighs and Aang's glossy eyes looked deep into your own. "Are you ready for the real thing now, love. You say kissing his cheek and jaw.

With a nod and playful gaze Aang said. "I've waited long enough, don't you think?" Then you feel nimble fingers around you length and stroke it teasingly. "Well then if it's like that then, why don't I f*ck you until you can't think straight anymore~ maybe then you won't be so cheeky~ thought I do enjoy it~." You said in a purring voice, deeper then Aang's ever heard from you before. You words and tone all went straight thought his c*ck. Making the airbender let out a blissful moan. "Please, please, please." Was all you could hear pour out of his mouth at that moment. That's all you needed to hear from him. You slowly inched in hearing only moans and slamming the rest in with no restraint at this point how could you hold back? With ever thrust of your hips you hear yelps and chants of your name coming out from the man under you. His blissful and tearful face was a big turn on making you go at a faster pace and faster as time went on, leaning down you kiss him. With your dominant hand you stroke Aang's length, kissing down to his ear. "Want to cum, baby boy~ Why don't you beg for it~"

"Y/n, please!" He begged, voice cracking in the end from all the pleasure he was feeling.

In a teasing tone you said "please, what? Use your words, my love~"

"Please, y/n. Want to cum. Please~ it's to much!" Ruting against your touch. Mouth agape as drool and moans let loose.

And how could you say no when you're pretty boy asks so sweetly?~ You rocked your hips faster and went the same pace as your hand around Aang's c*ck until both of you came.

_____

(A/N Is lube even invented yet in atla? Oil is a good alternative tho so, we good.👌)

Hope you enjoy this. I worked hard on it and would happily take any critique you could give me! Much love to you all!💞💞💞

(thank you so much for the request! I hope you'll like it! @thatcucumberwhore ) ✌️😌

#aang x male!reader #soulmate au #nsfvv #lemon #aang x reader #x male reader #male reader insert #male!reader #dom male reader #dom male s/o #male reader #is this to much tags?#oh well!#enjoy!!!

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fandom-sheep · 3 years ago

Text

MCC 18 SEP 21

Yellow Yacks and Cyan Coyotes with a little Aqua Axolotls. Part 1/1

The only reason I didn’t forget MCC was because I got the notification for Eret.

I have Wilbur on my TV. I’m going to watch Eret on my phone. And I’ll have Tommy on my iPad probably.

Wilbur throwing a tantrum and saying he won’t play.

I feel like a true Gen Z member with my multiple screens of minecraft.

I’m only just getting the Wilbur notification.

I love watching everyone run around before MCC and scale things.

Griefing the thumbnail. 😂

Wilbur just causes problems on purpose when it comes to group photos doesn’t he.

He just loves finding ways to cause problems.

Wilbur got a coconut!?!

I didn’t mean to type the question mark originally. But I am a bit confused.

Wilbur just stocking up on coconuts

True friendship is a quote book. I have several.

Baby banana boo.

Wait. I heard the word tumblr

Scott what did you do with tumblr?

I’m scared. Only Eret permitted on tumblr.

I remember watching hole in the wall as a tv show as a kid.

Wilbur’s glasses that don’t do anything.

There are September discounts for subbing?

Neato.

The conversations in my work discord are something else.

Not surprised that Wilbur is going for top swearer of MCC

But my residents are going to walk by my door and judge me.

Alright I apparently wasn’t signed in to twitch on my iPad and it took me entirely too long to learn to remember it.

Tommy looks like he’s really concentrating. Oh wait never mind.

Wow the yaks are in first currently. I might be cheering for a winning team for once.

Alright I have my iPad split screen between Tommy and the MCC website.

Everyone break the elevator!

In the game, not in the building I work. I don’t want that paperwork.

Stick together and place many block.

I’ve been in Wilburs position. “I’ll be captain” “yeah let’s let Wilbur be captain”

Not a single POV I have up is synced. But that’s life.

Oh not starting out strong.

Just keep going. Ignore the falling people just like ranboo last time.

We are at the absolute bottom for this game.

Where’s a bag of popcorn or something?

“Stay down there. That’s how I won that one time” -Ranboo

Down they go.

They didn’t have anywhere to run.

Second round!

Oh that wasn’t their best idea. It was fun seeing Erets POV of that.

Go Teams.

Turning down the volume on yellow yacks to listen to aqua axolotls.

Aqua please. You have so much potential.

Nope.

Switching audio again.

Yellow back at the bottom.

Ranboo ranboo ranboo ranboo

Down he goes. 😂 the timing of that was funny.

Please. Don’t die

Wilbur. Scott. Please.

Scott uncovering the creeper.

Their plan is literally just sit and be.

To be fair that’s my plan for everything I do.

Oh cobwebs are smart.

I’m eating very salty Chick-fil-A chips and need water.

We are still doing ok. Wow.

Cobwebs man. The real MVP.

They are still in 10th

COBWEBS!!! And Wilbur standing on the edge of a block.

THEY WON THAT?!?!!!!

It moved them from last to eight. But still. Wow.

Holy cow. How did that happen.

I always forget what the acronym game is.

Oh yeah. Wilbur snuck and found this. I remember.

Go team!

Oh the website updates faster than the game. But we’re starting off decent.

I’m going to have to take back that statement aren’t I?

Go go go go

Fly fly fly fly

Build build build build

Go Wilbur!

Rafter strat.

Wilbur found the rafters and everyone else loved it.

Blocking his own jump. 😂

I really should do the inside joke chair emoji thing for laughing. But I don’t care.

Tiktok is nice. Depends on the side you are on, but it’s nice.

We are doing halfway decent. I’m proud of us.

Wilbur is struggling and I think he might cry.

Not bad. I don’t think.

Power sweater.

This game in MCC has rainbow road vibes

I’ll have to make that it’s own post since I feel that’ll be popular ish.

Holy cow we hit first on the website!! How?

Ranboo sweet one.

They said no peaking to Wilbur.

Wilbur making them block stuff off and the like is so funny.

Run yaks run!

I missed the moment Wilbur just mentioned. Oh well I’m sure I’ll see the clip.

First last first.

Hey 4th overall. Look at em.

Wilbur switching to full screen to show us his M&Ms.

Let me balance my water bottle on the bedpost above my head. No way this could possibly go wrong in multiple ways.

Double coins. Gorgeous.

Chickens are being sniped.

What’s going to work? TEAM WORK!

I don’t think I have ever watched a game of grid runners in my life?

Alright game should start any second because it started on the website.

Alright stream is delayed about 13 seconds.

Go teams go!

Wilbur just sniping targets.

We’re doing ok.

All this dirt.

Go go go

We’re completing things first.

Cake!

Wilbur got in!

Now they eat

Oh but they are falling.

Oh wow the painting is complicated. My friends and I would fail to communicate so fast.

Is this lever thing just find the button but complicated?

Go you got the levers!

Items grab!

My friends and I would seriously struggle unless I was allowed the lead. But I would lead us off a cliff.

Everyone get ready to go in as soon as the cake is done.

Exit! You guys are so close! Please!

Woohoo!

Go Ranboo! Go Scott!

Come on guys. Come on. Good communication.

I think I like watching Wilbur with MCC because he had a similar strategy to what I would do.

Wilbur why did you try to act cool!!!

They keep saying they are miles ahead but not according to that scoreboard.

You placed 3rd. Good job y’all.

I’m excited for bonuses.

They have another minute until the others run out of time.

Good soup.

Oh wow. Ranboo and Wilbur really are always totgehe.

We are doing well. I see the board changing on the website so much.

Where will they land.

Looks like 2nd or 3rd

Fourth overall. Not bad.

Lap time is logical.

Audience vote?

Look at me redownloading twitter.

Can you not see how others have voted on twitter?

Oh there it is. It only showed mine for a sec there.

Battle box looks close. I voted ace race.

Oh it all looks close right now.

Long break my beloved.

I don’t have time to start my laundry but still. My beloved.

Game 5/8 so MCC won’t be too much longer.

I look up and Wilbur is shaking his ass at George. I’m not surprised.

Phil and Sneeg judging Wilbur.

Wilbur twerking on Phil and Sneeg joining.

Poor Phil.

Wilbur just having visited so many random places with so many random words just gathered.

Oh wow parkour tag is low. But so is sands.

Oh wow it was a tie. Between Sands and Parkour

“Wilbur is Sand Daddy” -Scott and then all the agreement noises.

Sands of Time is my favorite practical game

Maybe because Wilbur is really good at it. And Ranboo had been trained by him.

This is just good.

I swear Sand daddy is going to kill me during this.

I am just going to pass away.

My stream delay though.

Wilbur who says he stays very quiet as he makes circus music noises.

Minecraft Rhinos. Because I can’t spell their real name.

I don’t quite understand sand of time. But I like watching. It’s like college football.

I am missing the only college football game I care about for MCC.

Go Team.

No blue yet.

All the mobs.

“You better not die” sung to the tune of Santa clause is coming yo town. -Wilbur

Keep it up guys.

Oh no. They lost the key.

Oh good they found the key.

You can tell Wilbur had a musicians brain. He just hears something vaguely lyrical and starts singing a song.

Gotta promote your band whenever you can I guess.

I listened to the last Ep for like an hour and a half yesterday while I went about my day.

I wonder how we’re doing?

Only a few seconds.

I could warm a heating pad in the amount fo time they have left.

Ranboo doing these puzzles so amazingly.

Quit caring about what others think. Just do your thing.

I swear the sand daddy thing.

I love the cage of shame for not tracking your sand.

I zoned out. Red cyan orange?

We’re almost 15 minutes into sands.

I want to play Minecraft on my iPad right now.

Wait the website updated. We were 6th?

Yikes. I thought they did better.

3rd overall though!

Wait what was that about most influential improv thingy? Good for them.

Build mart!

Oh Ace Race. Wilbur calling Ace Race his girlfriend now.

I want to see the enemies to lovers fan fictions of Ace race and Wilbur.

Oh wait I can do that. I can verbally tell one like I have others in the past.

I’m excited to watch this.

Wilbur flirt with the race.

I’m not mentally prepared for this.

Everyone just joined because they don’t want to miss Wilbur x Ace Race.

Oh no. He’s not doing so well.

Oh Wilbur is giving us more.

Complicated history…

Whispering to Ace Race and Solidarity.

You’ve got it Wilbur.

Keep on talking. Keep your brain busy while you play.

Mommmm Wilbur is flirting with Ace Race again!

He’s whispering though so I can’t quite hear it and will have to find a clip channel that added subtitles.

Oh teams are changing on the website.

“What are you doing in my women Philza?” -Wilbur

“I will end your bloodline which is canonically also me.” -Wilbur

I can not track all the quotes from this. That’s beyond my abilities.

Wilbur did halfway decent, but it still uncomfortable.

Ace Race is a person now. Also the fact that Wilbur compliments Ace Race so much.

Sally v. Ace Race.

I want to find that fanart now.

Scott honey. Confirmed cannon is everyone fancies the fish.

4th. Not bad.

We’re still talking Ace Race x Wilbur

Build mart! My dearest buildmart!

I miss them sliding around in the sleds.

Grab da flowers!

We’re in 1st at the minute.

Come on yaks!

No coyotes!

Hurry hurry hurry.

Work discord going it’s thing again.

Oh we’re dropping fast.

Move the redstone! Thank you

Alright back on top. Keep it up.

Nevermind.

I love the way the build spaces for the different teams work.

Who is the person on the build?

Oh first again? Nevermind.

Oh we popped up to second. We’re so behind. Come on.

Duck!

Good soup energy. Now all I can think is the bi wide energy song.

Time is running out.

Yeah we aren’t catching up to first. Just hold second.

Where is granite?

Game over.

Third overall now. Not bad. Last game time they can possibly pull it into dodge bolt.

I need to go get a picture with the President of the university for a game with my work.

Good Soup.

I’m sitting here making popcat noises while waiting.

Game time! Go team! Survive!

Wait where did the steamer go? I wasn’t paying attention.

He’s back.

He’s swearing for his points on the swearing list.

Is pee a soup? No. I don’t think it’s think enough under normal circumstances.

Karl is apparently swearing according to Twitter. Good for him. He deserves to swear some as a treat.

Everyone running and leaving shubble.

Oh good they are all together.

Just keep running.

4th so far.

Cars. Beep beep.

Ranboo breath child.

Calling Wilbur like some kind of golden retriever.

Bow boy

Scott is leader now. Because otherwise they are arguing.

We are playing the don’t die strategy.

Come on team.

Did I put my cut in this post? I did.

Ranboo having stolen the airdrop. And he has a thing!

Oh the boarder is right behind them.

They are fighting Dream?

Nice Will.

We’re in fourth.

Boarder is right there.

Sapnap? Nope.

Pink attack and they book it.

Oh no. There goes Wilbur.

Is it just Scott?

Scott vs the world.

Just Organe and pink. They came third.

GO ORANGE!

Please. Please let us do it.

Overall third. Pink overtook yellow.

Sadness.

Ranboo has achieved: Found Hated Game

Ranboo has been hit by Survival games so many times now.

If they had just lasted a tiny bit longer they would have come second.

Cheering Orange I suppose.

I have no skill at picking winner POVs.

I have 3 teams I was at least kinda watching. And none of them are in dodgebolt.

Gosh can hear Ranboo tweaking.

Wow. Yellow yaks just as a team twerking.

What is Wilbur chewing on? Wilbur don’t chew on things that probably aren’t meant to be chewed on.

I can hear the band outside of my window. I think my campuses football game is starting.

The drum line practiced outside my window all the beginning of the semester so it’s fun seeing them march to the stadium.

Oh and there are the cheerleaders.

Oh right I was watching MCC! Who’s winning?

Come on Orange. So close.

Wait I looked out my window. Why is the band walking back to where they were?

Along the sidewalk?

I thought it was game time for a minute.

Oh dodgebolt could go either way.

Distracted by Jesus.

Grian! You got this!

Nice Grian.

Oh Grian has a chance!

Oh!

It’s so close!

Ooo ooo!

I’m so invested.

I SEE THE CONFETTI IN THE SITE! But I don’t want to miss the shot.

Come on Grian.

I know you do it. But you’ve got this

YESSSSS

Woo hoo!!

That was a good MCC. Now to do the chores and homework I originally planned to do today.

That was a nice stream.

Scott is separating Ranboo and Wilbur?

Please. Scott.

Don’t separate the beings.

You know. Twitter needs to politely bully Scott into keeping Ranboo and Will together.

Oop and that’s Wilbur done. That was fun.

See y’all next time!

#mcc #wilbur soot #ranboo #Scott #dangthatsalongname #shubble #yellow yaks #delayed liveblogging

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theimpossiblescheme · 3 years ago

Note

“Where have you been?!”--for Goemon and whoever you want!

Goemon could already feel his heart sink a bit when a boy no older than seven answered the door, cracking it open just enough to turn on the porchlight above them. “C-Can I help you, Mister—” he nervously eyed the sword at his side—“Mister Samurai?”

“Yes, can you tell me if… if the lady of the house is home?” He wasn’t exactly sure what the proper form of address was. Calling her by her first name seemed too familiar, but he couldn’t be sure if she’d changed her last name in the… fifteen years? Since he’d last seen her.

(Had it really been fifteen years? How had he let the time fly away from him like that? What could he have possibly been too busy with to come back, even just to say hello?)

The boy nodded and hid a few more inches behind the door, turning his face away. “Mom!” he called, and Goemon’s heart sunk a little bit deeper. “There’s somebody at the door! Says he wants to see you!”

“What is it, Kōhei?” A woman’s voice sounded down the inside hallway, followed by the whisper of socked feet. Then another hand came to nudge open the door, and there was Murasaki. Dressed in worn grass-stained blue jeans and a yellow cardigan, her long hair pinned up out of her face in a loose bun and showing a few strands of grey at her temples. Certainly thinner and more tired-looking than he remembered her, but her face lit up with a brilliant smile as she recognized him.

“Goemon!” She sounded shocked, but delighted at the same time. “What are you doing here?”

Suddenly that sounded like a very good question. But Goemon tried to maintain his composure. “I… I hope I’m not intruding. I thought I might stop by and—and see how you were doing.”

“Okay.” She nodded slightly, as if still registering his presence, before seeming to relax a bit and opening the front door wider. “Yeah, come on in! Kōhei—” she ran a gentle hand through the boy’s hair—“this is Mom’s old friend, Goemon. He’s the one who saved our whole family from the Fuma clan, remember?”

Kōhei ducked behind Murasaki’s pantleg and muttered a quick “hi” before dashing off down the hall. Goemon couldn’t help but give a tiny smile as he slipped off his shoes, discarded his sword, and stepped inside.

“Don’t worry about him, he’s just shy,” Murasaki said as she watched him run off, tucking a few loose strands of hair back into her bun before turning back to Goemon. “So what brings you all the way out here?” The where on earth have you been?! was implied, even if it was a gentle urging rather than a demand, and for a moment Goemon had no idea what excuse he could possibly give. What did one even say after fifteen years?

“I—Lupin and Jigen and I had been travelling for a while, and I had… I had started to miss home. And I figured along the way I would come and visit you… since it’s been so long.” We’ve done so much together, Murasaki, you wouldn’t believe, his thoughts raced wildly. We stole from palaces, we robbed the biggest casino in the world, we saved a princess and uncovered a worldwide conspiracy… and I never even thought to write to you. And it’s been too long for any apology to be good enough. I wish you could have seen it, I know Lupin wanted to invite you along all those years ago, and I know you wanted to see the world. I’m sorry I never took him up on it when I had the chance. “I hope I didn’t come at a bad time,” was what he said instead.

“No, no, it’s okay!” she quickly reassured him. “Actually, you came at a great time—I was just making us a late supper. We’ve been so busy today the time kind of got away from us, but you’re welcome to join us!”

Goemon blinked. Of all the responses she could have given, that was the most optimistic one, but he’d always suspected it was just wishful thinking. Now that he was here… “I’d… I would like that.”

Murasaki gave him another smile, an even brighter one this time, and gestured for him to follow her. He still remembered his way around the Suminawas’ old home surprisingly well, although the large TV in the living room and the power strips with multiple long extension cords running to and from the kitchen threw him for a moment, and he almost sat on someone’s stuffed dog next to the dining room table. While Murasaki busied herself in the kitchen, he glanced around the place through the open dividing screens, taking it all in. It was still the same house, the same woodwork, the same art on the walls and shelves, the same view of the garden outside… but it felt very different now. More energetic in a way, more lived-in.

“That boy, Kōhei… is he yours?” He had to be—she’d clearly named him after her grandfather, who must have passed away years ago. Another pang wrung through Goemon at the thought.

“Mm-hm.” Murasaki rearranged a few pots on the stovetop before getting a new one out for tea and filling it with water. “Kaneto and I adopted him. We’d always wanted kids, but neither of us wanted…” She shrugged demonstratively. “You know.”

Goemon nodded. At least she’d found someone else who understood what she truly wanted in a marriage, even if it might seem like comparatively little. “What does Kaneto do for a living?”

“We both teach! At the high school the next town over—he teaches history, I teach biology.” Setting out two teacups on the counter and leaving the water to boil, she turned back around to face her guest. “And one the weekends he helps me with the garden. That’s what we were doing all day until I sent him out to go run errands for me,” she added with a somewhat embarrassed wave down at her jeans.

Goemon only nodded again. He remembered her telling him, way back when they first met, that she wanted to earn her teaching degree someday, even if she had to put it on hold to care for her family. Now she seemed truly happy with both, and he was happy for her truly—it would be selfish of him to even entertain the slightest bitter thought…

It wasn’t bitterness exactly. More of a heaviness that sat at the bottom of his ribs and the pit of his stomach, even at seeing her current happiness. A feeling he’d always tried so hard to transcend over the years, but it never quite worked.

A photograph hanging nearby caught his attention—a family portrait. Murasaki stood beaming next to a man in a smart, slightly old-fashioned suit with dark brown hair. They were about the same height, which made Goemon chuckle, but the Kaneto in the frame still managed to smile down at his wife like he couldn’t believe his good luck. Next to her stood a much more energetic Kōhei, grinning from ear to ear, and at Kaneto’s side stood a little girl, presumably their daughter, in bright yellow overalls and a fluffy white bow in her ponytail. All four of them looked deliriously happy, and Goemon’s heart suddenly ached so much he could feel his shoulders sinking as the heaviness expanded. He’d missed it. He’d missed all of it. She’d found love again, gotten married for real this time, taken in her own adorable children, built a new life for herself…

And he hadn’t even thought to write to her. She’d never left his thoughts, never for a moment, but thoughts couldn’t be delivered to someone’s home, couldn’t be read as plainly as words on a page. So much time he’d never get back, so many chances gone. He didn’t even feel bitter at the loss—he just felt sad, almost ashamed, that he’d never known, never got a chance to be there when it all happened. It felt odd, almost too simple assigning such a basic word to such a strong emotion, but sometimes the simplest explanations were the best.

“It sounds like I’ve missed quite a lot.”

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but a frown line in Murasaki’s forehead deepened as she tended to the tea. “Well… you were gone for a long time.” Her voice was still gentle and nonjudgmental, but the additional weight of her words settled at the pit of his stomach and joined the sour, regretful churn there.

“I know.” It was silly, really… Goemon wasn’t entirely sure what he’d expected. Even years before the whole mess with the Fuma clan, they had both been practically children when they first met. And while she’d been able to stay that way a little longer, joyous and bouncy and carefree even into her twenties, he had to grow up rather quickly. Momochi’s treachery, Jinen’s murder, that terrible cult pursuing Fujiko… and all of this before he and Lupin found each other. Since then he’d met three new friends, watched at least two old ones die, and forced himself to reconsider his place in the world. He could never be the same callow naïve youth he’d started as, and he could never be the same man who’d left that day, promising her he’d return once he’d completed his training… maybe he just didn’t like the reminder.

I’m not going to wait for you, Goemon!

It seemed nothing had. And it was selfish of him to expect otherwise. He’d once though that no matter how much the world changed, he would stay the same… now he realized even that wasn’t true. He was part of the same world as Murasaki, as Lupin and Jigen and Fujiko—time passed the same for all of them, no matter how they tried to fight it.

“I didn’t know it would be so long.” It was no excuse, but more of a musing… no one ever did, did they? And then the next thing they knew, fifteen years had gone by without so much as a by-your-leave.

And Murasaki, kind and forever buoyant soul that she was, still refused to judge him. Or if she was, she never betrayed even a hint of it. “I get it.” She poured the water and tea leaves back into the pot to let them steep a few minutes. “Life goes on, you know? It just… happens, no matter where we are. That’s what Grandpa used to say.” A silence ensued then, not quite entirely comfortable, but still companionable as Goemon pondered her words. They were true enough—if someone had told that callow naïve youth that he’d spend years of training to be an assassin, that he’d throw in his lot (and fall in love) with a pack of thieves, that he’d turn down marriage into another proud and noble family… he definitely would have laughed.

What was the phrase? The best laid plans of mice and men… they all certainly seemed to go awry in his experience.

“But for what it’s worth,” Murasaki ventured, emerging from the kitchen with two fresh cups of tea and pressing one into his hand as she sat across from him, “I am glad you came to visit.”

“… I am, too.” He was here now, at least. And perhaps… for all the time he’d lost, there was still time to make it up. He wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. As strangely final was his last goodbye to Lupin and Jigen had felt, he loved them and Fujiko far too much to leave their sides entirely. Besides, a samurai’s lot was to serve until death, or at least until he was no longer useful. Retirement simply wasn’t in the cards for Goemon—he’d made peace with that long ago. But strangely enough, the sentiment didn’t have the same… rigid structure it once had. It was less of a solemn vow, a mast he needed to lash himself to lest he be tempted by some other siren song, and more of a recognition of the way things were. Of where his life had led him and would continue to lead.

It had led him and Murasaki in different directions. With their own respective families, unorthodox as his own was (and he could just imagine the insufferably saccharine look on Lupin’s face if he’d heard Goemon refer to him as such). And they were both happy. Maybe years ago he might have resented that, but now… this also felt like the way things were meant to be. Tea on the table, supper on the stove, sitting across from a loved one. What more could he ask?

He did want to at least offer a little more, though—it only seemed fair. “I will probably go back to my family’s old home for a little while, but… if you ever need somebody to help you with the children or in the garden, I’d be more than happy.”

“That sounds wonderful. Oh!” She reached across the table to pat his hand excitedly, a quick succession of feather-light taps. “And you have to meet Mayumi—she would adore you.”

Goemon smiled again, and some of the weight in his chest began to lessen. “I look forward to it.”

#asked and answered #anonymous #lupin iii #The more I've thought about it the more I think of Goemon and Murasaki as... 'Maybe at a different less chaotic time in our lives.'#They eventually end up going different directions but they still think and care about each other regardless. <3 #Her husband and children are named after three of the original Japanese 'Fuma Conspiracy' cast members. :)

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