#Dude I did not mean to rant this bad I promise I’m normal

[goshdangitpaul]

I saw some people discussing this in the ninjago tag so I’ll put in my two (or four) cents

Arin is still shrugging off his fanboy view of the ninja— as perfect and incredibly cool people— which is completely wrong. (< maybe I’ll write a fic about that one day) Pushing the found family dynamic on Arin with Lloyd, in my opinion, doesn’t fit with Arin’s character, especially since Arin’s personal goal is to find his parents, and get back to his status quo: before the merge. In fact, I think the found family dynamic may create a distance between Arin and the rest, as opposed to a deeper bond being formed, especially if we push them into the average archetypes of family, aka mom, dad, siblings, etc. 

Sora’s situation is a lot different, but in general she doesn’t have a great idea of what parents are supposed to be like, other than the general “you should love me”. Therefore, in my opinion of her character, it’s extremely unlikely she could consider any of her mentors as something more, though if you decide to go into dragons rising thinking that the found family will happen, you will surely assume some evidence to be proof of your side (I think this is is called eisegesis). I also don’t think she’s ready to call the ninja her family.

Wyldfire already has parents, it’s just a different species and a robot. Kai is really only teaching her self control and general fire skills, while also learning how to teach someone like Wyldfire (like Shi-fu in Kung Fu Panda!) I don’t really know much about Wyldfire, but more knowledgeable fans of her are free to comment on her arcs on their own!

As for the actual ninja involved, none of them, again, in my opinion, display parental love to any of the new characters. Lloyd doubts himself severely in even being a good teacher. All of them also have very… interesting parents. Which of course can muddle the idea of parenthood for them. They’re also dealing with a lot throughout Dragons Rising, with Lloyd’s visions, Nya’s Jay situation, and Kai literally being in the nether space. None of this makes them parents to Sora, Arin, or Wyldfire. They simply are teaching them.

Of course, you’re free to headcanon whatever you’d like! But considering the family dynamic canon is not very well supported in the show so far. If I'm spewing nonsense here, tell me because I have no idea what having kids nor the effect of having bad parents is like. (I’m blessed familial-wise)

[mrshipsmcgee]

Are We Still Friends?

tasm!Peter Parker x Reader

Summary: You and Peter have been best friends since meeting your freshman year of college at Empire State University. With only a semester left in your senior year you get asked to do a paid internship by your biology professor - which means a few late nights, which concerns Peter. It turns out that maybe he was concerned for good reason…

Based on this request - specifically #1. Thank you @itwasallinmyhead1 I hope I did it justice! (Bad guy based on Jackal from the Spiderman comics)

Warnings: curse words, creepy man, knife, mentions of blood, mentions of death. (Didn’t proof read whoopppps)

You took the last bite of your sub sandwich, wiping the crumbs from your mouth as Peter goes on about his concerns about your new internship with your biochemistry professor, claiming he’s secretly a terrible person. Peter’s lips meet the amber beer bottle in his hands after his rant, taking a sip before looking over at you - rolling your eyes at him.

“Oh, come on, Pete. Dr. Warren isn’t a bad dude - that is unless your Spidey senses are tingling,” you say in a sarcastic tone, bouncing your eyebrows at your friend. Peter just shakes his head and takes another sip of his beer, you knew when something rubbed him wrong - especially since knowing him so long now. You press your tongue into the corner of your mouth before your lips smack together, “Look - I really need this internship because I really need the money. Dr. Warren is paying me a ridiculous amount for my time - and I’m just grading assignments.”

Peter adjusted, clearing his throat as he looked at you, “Look, the guy is weird, Y/N.” His voice never normally got this serious with you, the tone was so foreign.

“His wife and kids died in a fiery car crash and his assistant has disappeared, maybe he’s just having a hard time,” you explain, crossing your arms and raising your eyebrows at your friend. “That’s exactly why I’m concerned, Y/N. You don’t find it even just a little odd that the people closest to him have either died or disappeared? Not at all?” Peter questions as his sits his beer on the coffee table, leaning his elbows on his knees as he adjusted again, tilting his head to the side.

“Okay, you are being awful sassy tonight, Pete. And I have to be in his office by seven - which is five minutes from now. Will you let me go get paid for grading papers, please?” You ask, beginning to stand. Peter’s hand quickly grabs yours, causing you to look back down to where he sat on his futon - your stomach seeming to flutter as you looked at him. “What, Pete?”

His brown eyes looked at you, his lips came together in a downturned and weak smile. He knew it wasn’t right to make you stay and miss out on some extra cash just because an off feeling. ���Just please - please be careful,” Peter’s voice was soft as he pleaded.

Your free hand placed over Peter’s - still holding your hand. “Pete, I will be just fine. I promise. He’s just a harmless biology professor. And I can text you if I need you - well Spidey.” All you really wanted was Peter’s approval.

Peter swallows as he pulls his hand away from yours and grabs his beer again, leaning back into the futon, his face still that of disapproval - you sigh. “Well, I’m off to go make some money. I’ll be back in a few hours to rub it in your face that there’s nothing wrong with poor Dr. Warren.”

You begin to walk away as Peter springs off of the futon, stepping in front of you right before you grab the handle to the door - running into his chest and quickly making eye contact with your best friend. “Peter, what the hell?” He breathes heavily as he looks at you, his eyes darting down to your lips before abruptly looking back to your gaze - wide eyed. Your stomach drops as you see his eyes trail down to your lips again - it wasn’t a mistake. He’s never done that before.

Both of you are breathless - Peter’s breath sends chills down your spine. You can smell the beer on his breath as you look at his lips. Have they always been this perfect? Has he always been this handsome?

Your hand instinctively finds its way to his chest, his heart was racing as your palm made contact with the chiseled hero. You hadn’t realized you both began to lean forward towards one another before Peter blinks wildly - almost as if he had finally realized what was happening. “Sorry,” he whispers, stepping away from the door and you as his hand rubs the back of his neck - afraid to look up at you now.

“I’m - I’m,” you stammer, pointing towards the door as you gulp - feeling a burning in the pit of your stomach, “I’ve got to go.” You leave quickly, basically slamming the door behind you.

“Shit,” you whisper under your breath as you look at your phone, basically running towards Dr. Warren’s office. 7:10? How the hell did so much time pass so quickly? And what the hell happened back there with Peter?

“I am so incredibly sorry, Dr. Warren,” you say hurriedly as you open the door to his office, which was dark. “Dr. Warren?” You call out ,beginning to turn on the light to the dark office.

“Don’t,” a voice said from the darkness as you pull your hand away from the light switch. “You’re late.”

“I am so sorry - I got caught up in something and was trying to leave and - I’m just sorry. It won’t happen again,” you speak quickly as you begin to unload the bags from your arms. “What do we have for tonight’s work? Can I turn this light-,”

“No,” Dr. Warrens voice boomed again, sounding a bit deeper than normal. You step towards the door, a little freaked out by the strangeness going on. “Where do you think you’re going, Y/N?”

“Oh, uh - I just can’t see that well, I’m sorry. Should I do work in the hallway?”

“No,” he says, a growl seeming to come from his lips as you heard creaks coming from his rolling chair behind his desk. “You are not allowed to leave ever again.”

Chuckling nervously you begin to pull out your phone, “are you messing with me because I’m late, Dr. Warren? If you’re trying to freak me out, you’re doing a really great job.” Your fingertips turn on your phones flashlight, bringing it up to look at the room.

You scream loudly seeing a creature behind the desk, quickly pulling your phone back down as you cover your mouth. “Dr. Warren, what’s happened to you?

“The best thing that has ever happened to me,” he growls, beginning to stand from the creaking chair underneath him. “And now, we can finally be together.”

“What?” You choke, gulping as you backed up to the door, grabbing the handle behind you. “What did you do to yourself?”

“This has been a long time coming. A long time, Y/N. I have been dreaming of this day for so long. At first I thought my feelings for you were wrong, so I had convinced myself it was a paternal feeling since both of my kids passed. But, I knew deep down it was so much more.”

Your eyes are wide, trying to adjust to the darkness for some advantage. The small light coming from the window on the door behind you wasn’t very helpful.

“The first time I ever laid eyes on you was when you walked into my class - the most beautiful person I have ever seen in my entire life, I knew you were the perfect match. Then I got to know you as my student and you were even more wonderful than I could imagine. I’ve been watching you for so long now, I’m so happy to finally get my hands on you after all this time,” he explains. “There is nothing wrong with me, I am just finally in my truest form. I don’t show people this version of myself unless I plan to kill them.”

“Like you did with your assistant, Mr. Serba? What did he do to deserve to die?” Your voice breaks as you speak, backing up from the man.

“Serba didn’t believe in my vision!” Dr. Warren yelled. “Serba was a weak man that didn’t believe in me or my creations!”

“So you killed him? For what?”

“For you. I finally told him what I was doing,” he was worked up, breathing heavily. “But now - now I have you all to myself. No Serba to stop me and no Peter Parker to get in my way - that fucking lost puppy dog. Do you know how hard it is to get you away from him? I had to fake a paid internship to even get you here.”

As he speaks you begin to fumble with your phone in your hands, trying to text Peter as loud footsteps approach you, a large hand smacking the cellphone from your hand - not before clicking send.

“You’re coming with me!” He yells, finally stepping into the small light. You gasp seeing your professor dressed in a costume - donning claws and looking as if he was a mutated version of his normal self. He quickly picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder as he begins to run - sprinting out of the office and leaving the building, disappearing into the darkness as you scream loudly.

-

Peter sat in his dorm drinking another beer as his thoughts ran wild. What had he done? Did he just completely ruin his friendship with you - his most cherished friend? He could no longer deny his growing feelings for you. He knew that after he had seen you at semi formal something had switched in him whenever it came to you.

He remembered dancing with you that night, since the two of you had gone together as friends since your love life’s were non-existent. There you two slow danced as Fade Into You echoed in the room. His hand held yours as the other was placed on the small of your back, giving him butterflies each time you would smile at him. He remember feeling as if it were just the two of you in the room. You had become so much more to him than just being his best friend.

Peter’s phone dings your custom ringtone, pulling him from his thoughts about what had happened with you earlier. He looks down, seeing a text from you reading -

HRLO

“What?” He whispers, looking at the four letters, confused as to what you could have meant - he sits down his beer. His eyes dart to his phones keyboard, looking at the placement of each letter - moving his finger in the motion of typing them out.

H - R - L - O

“Oh my god,” Peter says as his stomach drops in the worst way, realizing the text was supposed to read HELP. He shot up off the futon, slinking into his suit as he started to look through his phone hurriedly. He clicked on an app where you and him could share your locations, something the two of you had done since sophomore year. Seeing you were somewhere in the heart of the city he sighs, trying to collect himself, “I’m coming, Y/N.”

-

Dr. Warren had tied you to a hospital bed in an abandoned basement underneath one of the sketchier buildings in the city - one of the buildings that people would make sure to not walk near after a certain time of the day.

He had an entire lab set up, with six large tubes about ten feet tall in height - numerous wires hooked up to them. They were cloudy, so you could not see inside of them. You watched the villainous man work around you, “We have to do this quickly.”

“What are you gonna do to me?” You ask, tears welling up in your eyes as you spoke. The man smiled, beginning to approach you, “Oh, Y/N - I just need a few more samples and then the transformation will be complete.” He pulls a few hairs from your head before scraping a piece of your skin - you wince at his painful touch. “Perfect,” he hissed, eyes maniacal as he puts the samples into a machine beside one of the tubes - turning it on, beginning to cackle as he watched machine work.

“While we wait we should have a little bit of fun, yeah?” Dr. Warren says as he turns back to you. “I really would love that considering I’m going to have to kill you here in a few minutes.”

“Why are you going to kill me?” You cry, grimacing as you started to sob.

“Because all that I needed from you is in the machine - you’re of no use to me now, Y/N,” he says as he grows close to you, beginning to stroke your face. “Now be good and let me undress you so we can see how spot on it is.”

You protest, attempting to block his eager hands. Dr. Warren starts to grow angry as you fight his touch. He rips your shirt, showing your chest as you sob, “Please, stop!”

“No,” he growls, eyes studying your flesh. “More.”

He rips your shorts, not completely off - but enough to feel extremely exposed. You shake your head as you cry - Dr. Warren has never been happier.

The machine makes a noise, immediately drawing him away from you as he approaches the tube which was now emptying the gas. You let out a blood-curdling scream as your eyes fall upon the sight in the tube. It was you. He had made you. You.

“Isn’t she beautiful?” He stares up in awe at the you in the tube. “I made her out of you, Y/N.”

You cry loudly, trying to break loose of the constraints as he started to open the tube. “She is perfect.” He looks back to where you laid, “I got the body perfect, the face perfect and the hair perfect. I’m a genius.”

“You’re a monster! You cloned me?!” You stare up at the tube, then to the other tubes. “What’s in the others?” You whispered, gulping to try to stop your tears.

“Oh you’ll see, they will be done soon. Tonight,” he states, walking back over to you - caressing your face again as he smiled. “Now it’s time for, you know -“ he makes a gesture slicing his throat with his finger, making a noise before beginning to take off your constraints.

He pulls you over his shoulder again as you begin to fight him, he pulls a vial out and stabs you with it, immediately paralyzing you from the neck down.

Dr. Warren slowly took you up twelve flights of stairs before busting through the door to the roof. “This is the perfect way - I’ve planned it to a T. I’ll say you didn’t show up tonight and sent me an email with a note saying you have had enough and you decided to end it. It’ll be convincing.”

All you could do was cry as he neared the edge.

-

Peter swings through the city, only a few yards from your location when he sees movement from the top of a building. He scans it, seeing someone near the edge - he looks down to the app seeing that was the building he was looking for.

Adrenaline is pumping through his veins as he hurls himself towards the building quickly, seeing the person had someone thrown over their back.

Oh my god, it was you. Peters heart broke as he began to grow nauseous.

Peter’s thoughts flash back to the night Gwen died at the hands of Harry Osborn, remembering holding her lifeless body in his arms. He couldn’t let that happen to you.

Before he can reach the building, Dr. Warren throws you from the roof. Peter screams loudly as he watches your body begin to fall to the ground, throwing himself towards you.

All he can do is watch while you fall, convinced it was impossible to reach you from this distance. Time seemed to stop.

Peter’s mind races, thinking about how he had convinced himself that the two of you were endgame - that he’d confess his feelings to you and somehow you’d magically feel the same. He thought about how he had dreamed of a life with you, a family with you - now convinced that he’d never get that.

But then he grabs you, wrapping you in his arms securely as he shoots another web - bringing you to safety on the ground. He drops to his knees as he holds your limp body in his arms, fearing the worst had already happened as he finally looks at your face, realizing you were in fact alive, “Oh thank gods.”

“You saved me,” you whisper, blinking back tears as you gazed up at Spiderman - happy to know your best friend was behind the mask. You wanted to touch his face, but still couldn’t move.

“I will always save you,” he cried, bringing you close as he clung to you before his head whipped up towards the roof - seeing that Dr. Warren was gone. “Where is he?” Peter growled, beginning to stand.

“I’m right here,” Dr. Warren hissed as Peter looked up, seeing the man standing at the entrance of the building. “And I have a surprise for you, Mr. Parker.”

How did he know that Peter was Spiderman?

“You see, neither of you know that my younger brother used to be Peter Parker’s science teacher in high school - it runs in our blood. And whenever he invited me in to speak, yes me - I spoke your junior year. And that’s when I saw her for the first time - Gwen Stacy.” He hissed, knowing how it would effect Peter. “She was perfect and beautiful and smart. I don’t know why in the world she ended up dating you.”

Peter feels as if he could throw up hearing Gwen’s name, your eyes widen as Dr. Warren continues to speak.

“And that’s when I fell in love, well that’s when I started my journey to - well, cloning. I wanted Gwen Stacy and I couldn’t have her because you let her get killed, Mr. Parker,” Dr. Warren stepped closer to the two of you as Peter stood in defense in front of you. Even though your hands and legs began to tingle, you still couldn’t move. “Even before she died I hated you - can you imagine how much I despise you now? Especially watching you follow Y/N around - I can’t even have them either because of you - again.”

“Shut up,” Peter growled as he clenched his fists. “Shut the fuck up.”

Dr. Warren chuckles as he claps his hands together three times, “Remember how I told you I had a surprise for you? Well, here it is. My first creation.”

You and Peter both gasp as you see Gwen Stacy walk out of the building - exactly how Peter remembered her to be, stuck in time. “What have you done?” Peter whispers as he rips his mask off. “What did you do?”

“Well, I cloned her-,” Dr. Warren couldn’t finished his sentence before Peter threw a punch - hitting him in the jaw before kicking him in the knee, making him fall to the ground. Dr. Warren winces, clapping his hands twice - causing Gwen’s clone to begin to sprint towards Peter.

He shoots webs, trapping the clone to the wall of the building before she can even reach him - bending over himself and crying after he got a really good look at her.

“Peter?” She whispers, causing Peter to approach her once more. “Peter, what’s happening?”

Peter cries as he looks at her again, immediately crying again as shame washed over him. “I’m so sorry, Gwen.” He touches her face, sobbing as hot tears rolled down his face. “I’m so sorry I let that happen to you.”

While Peter is preoccupied with Gwen’s clone, Dr. Warren approaches where you lay - clicking his tongue as he nears you. “Why can’t you just die?” He pulls out a knife and holds it above you, ready to strike your chest.

“Peter!” You scream as the man goes to stab you.

But Peter was too fast, pulling the man’s hand with a web, causing him to fall backwards onto the cement - head harshly hitting the ground with a crack. Peter’s eyes widen as he sees blood start to pool underneath the man’s head, slowly creeping towards where you laid.

Peter quickly picks you up again, stepping over Dr. Warren as he dies on the street below him. He doesn’t say a word to the evil man, he just walks away - giving one final glance back to the trapped clone of his lost love.

“Let’s get you back to the dorm,” Peter says as he begins to swing you back to campus - dropping in his window of his dorm. He gently lays you onto the futon, checking you for wounds, “Are you okay?” “Yeah - yeah, I think so, Pete,” you start to wiggle your toes, slowly regaining feeling in your extremities. “The real question is if you’re okay.”

“I’m okay - I - I,” he begins to stammer as he sits in the floor beside the futon, still facing you. “I need to tell you something.”

You nod, motioning him to continue, becoming breathless with anticipation.

“I - I - I’m in love with you, Y/N. I’ve been in love with you for a long time now and didn’t realize it, or maybe was too scared to realize it. I don’t know what would have happened if I lost you back there. I can’t - I don’t want to imagine my life without you in it, Y/N. You’re the reason why anything is fun anymore. You’re the reason that I wake up in the morning. And I just love you. You’re my best friend in the entire world and I’m terrified - completely and utterly terrified to tell you this.. but after what happened tonight I can’t hold these feelings in. I love you, and I’m in love you,” he gulps loudly, breathing heavily as he looks down at you.

“Peter,” you whisper, smiling as you began to sit up - finally able to feel your body again. “I’ve been in love with you for years now and just never thought I could possibly be good enough for you - or just enough for you.”

“Enough?” Peter asks as he sits up on the futon beside you. “You are everything.” He searches your eyes and begins to lean towards you, both of your hearts raced as he neared you. “Can I kiss you?” He whispers.

All you can do is nod as your eyes meet his doe eyes. His gloved hand meets your cheek, rubbing his thumb as he leans closer towards you, licking his lips as he looked at yours.

And then your lips meet - setting off what felt like fireworks in your body. His lips were soft and warm, salty from sweat. Your hands find their way to his hair, brushing through it as you deepened the kiss. His free hand wraps around your waist, bringing you close to his chest as the two of you sat on the futon.

Pulling away Peter and you both smile the biggest, most cheesiest smiles - like Cheshire cats before you both giggled.

“What do we do now?” You whisper. Peter cups your face in his hands, bringing his forehead to yours as he bit his bottom lip. “How about I take you on a proper date?” “I’d like that very much, Pete,” you whisper before he kisses you on the nose. “Me too.”

-

Tag List: @rose-writes-shit @xuxialling @itwasallinmyhead1 @mypalbuck @angelcritterz @levylovegood @gwenebear @saltedcoffeescotch @thelittlebirdwriter @mbjackie @kiwi5335 @nikkitc0703

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I love y’all! Have a wonderful day. - Cait <3

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Ten. Faces

warnings: swearing, hate comments word count: 4.1k (not including pics)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: sorry its late!!!! this feels rushed but i was just too excited to get to some parts!!! also i have had some parts written out for SO long that they dont even feel cute to me anymore so im literally praying to every deity rn that you guys think its cute lmao anyway enjoy!!!!

**********

It had been about a week since Karl's slip up but everything was already more normal than Y/n had expected it to be. Of course, George, Sapnap and Quackity were all very understanding and gave her space while simultaneously reassuring her that she was safe with them. She fully believed it too, she knew she was safe with them and they weren't going to tell anyone her name.

The one unusual thing was now she had a heavy guilt, like someone dropped another sandbag in her stomach, every time Dream texted her. If the others knew, it was only fair that she tell him her name too, right? I mean, it's Dream. Dream! The boy who had quickly slipped his way into her life and, though she wouldn't admit it to Karl or Naomi, her heart.

But how? Does she just come right out and say it or wait until it gets brought up? She hadn't practiced telling anyone her name because she wasn't planning on doing it any time soon. Though, maybe she should have been seeing as she was going to see them all in person in a little over a month.

Regardless of the guilt, Y/n had other things to worry about today; Quackity was coming to visit. Karl had picked him up from the airport and the two of them spent all day catching up and doing who knows what but Y/n still hadn't met him. She was scared. She wasn't scared of Quackity, but scared because it was the first time one of her online friends would be able to put a face to her name and voice.

Y/n shuffled across her living room rug and reached for her phone on the coffee table, looking for some sort of distraction while she waited for them to arrive.

-

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, shaking her head as she threw her phone on the couch. Okay, he's right. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be great. It's just Quackity. If he said anything rude or annoying or anything she could literally just step on him like a bug.

A sharp knock on the front door of her apartment snapped her back into reality. She shook her limbs of nervousness as she made her way to the door, two familiar voices begging to be acknowledged from the other side.

"Let us iiinnn!! Y/nnn!!!!" Karl whined.

After countless times asking the same question, she finally convinced Karl that she was okay with him using her real name in front of Quackity. He clearly still felt guilty about telling the boys her name, asking her multiple times in different ways whether he should call her Y/n or Bugsy in front of the guest. She finally got it through his head that she didn't mind either way.

"Hold on!" she yelled back. She unlocked the door and swung it open to see Karl and Quackity. "So impatient."

"Holy shit, you are tall! Goddammit, I thought that was a joke!"

Y/n laughed shyly at the greeting, looking at Quackity like he was crazy. "Hello to you too. Tried to warn you, dude."

"Yeah but, damn! You're tall and attractive, what the hell?"

"Dude," she said with a warning in her voice. She thought the flirting on Twitter was funny, but in real life she got embarrassed easier and wasn't a fan. "I'm about to kick you out of my house before I even let you in."

This was weird, meeting Quackity before meeting some of her other friends. She loved Quackity, but she had known George much longer and Sapnap even before that. There was no problem with meeting Quackity, she just had no idea how to act since she felt like she hardly knew him.

"Am I allowed to tell people that you're hot?" he asked as he fell on her couch, Karl following right after.

"Quackity!" Y/n yelled, her face heating up at a compliment. "Seriously?"

Karl cackled and shoved Quackity. "Shut up, Alex! No, you're not allowed!"

"Sorry, is that compliment reserved for Dream?" He cackled at his own joke and Y/n's face heated up even more.

"I seriously will kick you out of my house."

"You wanna be flirty on main but not in real life?" Quackity scoffed.

"I'm not flirty on main, you are!" she laughed. "Seriously, don't."

"Okay, sorry, I'll stop," Quackity promised with a laugh in his words.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, mostly because Karl and Quackity were already comfortable around each other at this point. They eventually decided to go to the mall, just to mess around and do something.

*reminder: covid doesn't exist in this fic bc we only want happy things so ignore their masks :P*

Y/n frowned as she unlocked her front door, staring at her phone. She had been so happy with all the fans freaking out about the meetup so she looked at the trending list, expecting to see a flood of keyboard smashes and happiness, but that's not all she ended up seeing. BUGKARLITY was trending, so she scrolled through the tweets and was upset to see not all of them were positive. In fact, when she typed her name in the search bar, lots of the tweets using her name were rather mean.

A few that stuck in her head called her an attention whore and said that her friends only flirted with her because she paid them too. Who on earth would even do that? Some hurt way more than others but she tried to push them aside. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen comments like this, but they had only gotten worse since her Minecraft date with Dream. She was worried it was cause more hate for her friends and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their own hate.

She typed several different messages to Dream, deleting them all after she reread them. She felt like she had to request the same thing from him in a different way. Maybe because she felt like his words meant more, even if he really was just joking like the rest of them. She decided to call him instead of texting.

"Hi!" he chirped happily from the other end.

"Hi, Dream," she said as her chest filled with something warm at the sound of his voice. "How are you doing?"

"Good," he dragged out the word. "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? What's up?"

"Um," she started, immediately forgetting the words she decided she'd use. "I just... would you mind, uh, not flirting with me so much on, like, Twitter and streams and stuff like that?"

There was a silence before Dream's frantically apologetic words came through. "Yes, of course, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. If I had known I was making you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have—"

"Wait, no," she interrupted but he must not have heard.

"—said things like... oh gosh. Bug, I'm really sorry—"

"Dream!" she raised her voice, getting him to stop ranting. "You don't make me uncomfortable."

"Oh. Really?"

"Of course not. I actually think it's really..." Cute? Adorable? Endearing? "funny," she decided.

"Oh. Then why...?"

She sighed heavily and explained what she told the others. "So, yeah. I just don't want you guys getting hate because of me so I figure if you stop then... you know."

"Bug..." he said gently. "I'm really sorry. I promise you that I don't—none of us think those things about you."

"I know."

"No, seriously," he said, clearly not believing her. "You need to understand that I..." he paused. "I mean what I say. Always."

Always? she thought. There's a few things he's said that certainly he didn't really mean... like calling her cute?

"I don't joke around like that unless I want to. I wouldn't say things like I say to you unless I really, really, genuinely considered you a close friend and felt comfortable around you. And I do."

Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Dream. I just... maybe don't do it so much for right now? Online, at least," she clarified, not wanting to deprive herself completely of Dream's flirting.

"Yeah, if that's what you want, of course."

"Well, I don't want you to stop flirting with me but, yeah."

He chuckled. "Oh, you do like when I flirt with you?"

She hummed and changed the subject. "Did I interrupt you doing anything?"

"No," his teasing voice dropped and was back to his regular self. "I'm just editing the video we filmed the other day."

"Oh, the 'Minecraft, but you can't touch the floor'?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said, not meaning to sound disappointed. "I'll let you get back to it—"

"No. I mean, you can stay on the phone. Unless you're busy."

She smiled and put her phone on speaker and set it next to her foot on the floor. "I was just gonna paint. So I can stay."

Before she knew it, almost two hours had passed of them sitting in comfortable silence, occasionally speaking to share something with the other before going back to their tasks. It was comforting knowing she didn’t need to speak constantly and could just hang out with Dream.

Y/n's phone rested on the floor next to her, Dream on speakerphone on the other end, only the sounds of his keyboard clicking letting her know he hadn't fallen asleep or hung up. She wasn't sure when they started doing this, staying on the phone even when they had nothing to talk about, but they had done it a few times before. They had talked on the phone and Discord many times but it was usually always with purpose, not usually this silently-enjoying-each-others-presence nonsense. Who was she kidding calling it nonsense, she enjoyed it an embarrassingly insane amount.

She repositioned so she was laying on her stomach as she finished sketching an image that was in her mind.

"Hey, you still there?" Dream asked softly.

"Yeah. Sorry, am I taking away from your sitting in silence time with George?" she joked.

Dream chuckled lightly. "Nah, you're more fun. I was just seeing if you ditched me for Karl yet."

"Nah, you're more fun," she mimed truthfully. "But I'm very focused on this drawing."

"Can I see it when you're done?"

"Don't expect too much. It looks bad."

"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know how accurate or inaccurate it is."

"Very true..." she trailed off, holding the canvas further away to examine it all at once. She wanted the sketch to be perfect before she made permanent choices with paint. She enjoyed the serenity they maintained even when talking, voices low and delicate like they were keeping secrets but not quite whispering. "Are you almost done editing your video from the other day?"

"Sorta. I'm at the part where you and Sapnap almost died laughing because a ghast knocked George into lava and then Sapnap laughed so hard he fell into lava."

She chuckled, remembering the situation vividly. "That was so funny. The way George screams is so funny."

"Let Naomi know that," he mumbled, causing Y/n to gasp.

"Dream!" she laughed loudly and he joined.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's true though."

"Disgusting!"

A distant voice sounded on the other end and she assumed it was Sapnap. "What do you want for dinner?"

Dream responded with a soft, "Nothing, I'm good."

"Are you talking to Bugsy?"

He must have responded physically because the next sound was Sapnap's very clear, much more lively voice speaking directly into the phone. "Hi, Bugsy!"

"Hi, Sapnap!"

"Can you tell Dream to eat some damn food? This man literally hasn't eaten a single thing all goddamn day."

"Dream," Y/n scolded slowly. "Please eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm not showing you my painting until you eat."

A door closed on the other end and she took that as a sign that Sapnap had left.

"I don't wanna see it anyway. It's probably trash."

"Take that back!" she gasped lightly. She looked at the canvas as she grabbed the first paint color and laughed. It was only a sketch and it was already trash. "Fine, then I won't go on the trip if you don't eat in the next ten minutes."

"That's punishing yourself too though."

"Who says I want to see you?" she asked.

"I never said anything about not seeing me being the punishment."

She had been caught. "It was implied."

"Sure it was."

"It's true though. Who says I wanna see your stupid face?"

He didn't say anything, but an incoming FaceTime call lit up Y/n's phone. A FaceTime call from him.

Her smile dropped. "Clay?"

"Answer it," his voice was lower and her heart started beating faster. Was he really about to show her his face to prove a point? Reveal his biggest secret that only a few close friends knew? To her of all people? She made sure she couldn't be seen in the small window and pressed accept, the voice call ending and the FaceTime call starting.

To her surprise, what came into view wasn't his face, but the logo of the hoodie he was wearing, the simple smile of his merch taunting her. She laughed, the anxiety slowly fading away as it was replaced with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Was she disappointed? Maybe a little, but he teased her into believing she would see him.

"Oh, wow! Dream face reveal! He looks just like his icon, no way!!!"

His chest moved up and down as he laughed, not moving the camera away. "You heard it here first, guys! You've known my face all along, the logo is actually my face!"

She laughed and returned to painting, not paying any more attention to her phone since he was now also showing his ceiling, a small corner of his monitor in frame but nothing else. "I mean it though, if you don't eat, I'm going to be so mad I won't even want to be friends anymore. Or you'll die from malnourishment before we get the chance to meet."

"I doubt it. I'm just not hungry."

"Whatever."

"Oh, hey, so you met Quackity today. How was it?"

"Very scary."

"Yeah?" he asked sympathetically, urging her to explain if she wanted.

"Yeah. But it turned out okay! He didn't act any different so it was fine. It was mostly just awkward. He's also so freaking loud. You would not believe how much louder he and Karl get when they're together."

"I can imagine. Aren't they doing a stream right now or something?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't wanna watch though, I've had enough of them for the month."

Dream laughed. "How will you deal with them together for New Years'? It'll be for like two weeks."

"Who knows if I'll actually go?"

"Wait, what?" he asked abruptly, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. His keyboard stopped clicking and she could picture him staring at his phone as if looking at her. "Of course you're going."

"Not if you don't eat food! You have, like, 3 minutes to eat something until I officially am busy doing other things whenever the trip is."

Dream groaned and clicked a few things on his computer before the image on the screen became blurry as he walked through the house, still pointing it at the ceiling. She looked away again and kept painting.

"Quackity's really funny though," she continued. "It was super awkward at first but it was fun to have someone else to help me make fun of Karl."

"Wait, Bug," Dream called out over the sound of wrappers crinkling.

"Hm?" She hummed, continuing to paint.

"Bug," his voice was much softer and he sounded nervous.

She looked at her screen and dropped the paintbrush as she focused on what she saw, grabbing her phone and holding it closer to her face so she could see, still making sure she wasn't in view. All the anxiety from the beginning of the FaceTime suddenly came back and hit her like a truck. Sitting on her screen, waiting to be seen, was Dream. His hood was up, tufts of blonde hair sticking out, and he was standing with his back towards a dark room, the dim light from his pantry making his face just visible.

He held up a cookie in front of his actual, real face. "Are you watching?"

"Y-yea... I... Yeah. I'm watching. Is that really you?"

He nodded once before shoving the cookie in his mouth. "There, I consumed food," he announced, his voice muffled by the cookie. "Now you're legally obligated to come."

"I—What? CLAY! WHAT?"

"What?" he asked innocently as he chewed, walking back to his room and still holding the phone up to show his face. His room light was on, making his face much more visible. If Y/n thought he was attractive in the harsh pantry light, he must have looked like a god in his room lighting, even as pixelated as he was due to the quality of FaceTime. He fell on his bed and Y/n could only gape at his features. He slumped against his headboard, surrounded by roughly a thousand pillows, sporting a small, shy smile as he stared at the screen. "Bug, what?"

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Needless to say, he was unbelievably handsome. Part of the speechlessness was from the shock that he showed his face out of the blue, but obviously, the majority of it was that he was pretty much the most attractive person she'd ever seen. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a hoodie, especially when pixelated.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Wanna take back what you said earlier?" He bit into another cookie.

"W-what did I say earlier?" Why was she stuttering???

"You said you don't wanna see me and that I'm ugly," he teased.

She paused for too many seconds too long before finally muttering, "you arrogant son of a bitch." He laughed loudly at that.

His eyes crinkled and he threw his head back. So that's what he looks like when he wheezes, she thought to herself, pretty.

Dream shuffled his position on his bed and rested his head on one of his hands. He looked so comfy. "Why are you so quiet, weirdo?" he mumbled.

She set her phone back down and touched her cheeks with her hands and looked away for a moment, grounding herself to the real world for a second. She couldn't process her thoughts when she was staring at a man as gorgeous as Clay. "I don't know, maybe because you gave me no warning before showing me your face? Or because you failed to mention that you're incredibly hot?"

She was so glad she had looked back at her phone or else she would have missed the glorious sight of his cheeks turning bright red before he turned the camera back to his ceiling. "Oh my gosh."

"Aw cute, I made you blush."

"Shut up," he mumbled. "You threatened to not come if I didn't eat something!"

"You didn't have to—you showed me your freaking face just to prove you ate a cookie!! DREAM! I would have believed you if you just said you ate something!" she laughed breathlessly, staring at the phone now for a chance to see him again. "I was joking anyway!"

"Sure you were."

"I was."

"Well, oh well. You deserved to see me anyway."

"Oh, I deserve to see you?" She laughed. "How big is your ego?"

"You know what I meant," he groaned. "You got doxxed by Karl and you met Quackity in person. And you've clearly had a bad day because of all the hate and stuff. You've done a lot of stressful things recently and you deserved to be let in on a secret too."

He was so sweet. Like, tooth-rotting, Halloween candy stash hidden under a kid's bed, upset tummy sweet. She also couldn't get over the fact that he was a million times cuter when he was shy like he was being now, his voice soft and unsure. It contrasted vastly with the confident, loud-mouthed Dream everyone usually saw, though she liked that Dream too. She wished he could show his face for just one more second to see what he looked like shy. Probably sickeningly adorable.

This was it, wasn't it? The chance she had been waiting for to tell him her name? He just let her in on his biggest secret, now he was the one deserving to be let in.

"Y/n," she said with a confident, but soft voice.

There was a long pause. "W-what?"

"Y/n."

He understood the second time immediately. "Y/n..." he tested, the smile in his voice clear as day. "I like it."

"Yeah, well, I guess you deserved to know the secret too."

"I would have been content never knowing."

"Really?" She didn't believe him. He seemed like the type to never be satisfied, always looking for something better. Not in a greedy way, but in a motivational, goal-oriented big achiever way.

"Really," he hummed. "I already feel like you're too good to be true so I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a real person."

It was silent as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"Bug? You okay?"

"Yeah, I... it's just a lot."

"Sorry."

"No, it's not you. Well... I don't know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say when you say things like that," she admitted.

He paused. "I think you always have the perfect responses when I say things like that."

"What do I usually say?" She smiled shyly, pulling her hoodie up to her lips.

"You usually call me a nerd or say you can't stand me. 'Oh my gosh I cannot stand you'," he mimicked before laughing.

"What? How is that the perfect response to you saying you can't believe I'm real?"

He hummed and she could practically hear him shrugging. "Because it's a classic Bug response. It's a hundred perfect you. So yeah, it's perfect."

She was silent, trying to compose herself before she exploded.

"By the way, check Twitter."

"Why, are you bragging about me calling you hot?" she teased, hoping to make him blush like she had earlier. It worked.

"Oh my gosh, no. Just look."

She clicked her home button and navigated to the app, her feed instantly flooding with the same similar messages.

"Oh, my gosh," she muttered, her fingers flying away as she typed out her own tweet in response to the love.

Dream chuckled from the other end and when she asked him why, he vaguely said that George texted him but didn't explain further.

"Um, I have to go," she said mournfully. "Karl and Quackity are coming over again."

"Booooo," he pouted.

"Sorry, you aren't the only man in my life," she teased before instantly regretting her choice of words. Too flirty, Y/n, she thought to herself.

"Hm, shame. Am I at least at the top of the list?"

She bit her lips, wanting desperately to repeat what she had told him on their Minecraft date. In the end, she gave in. "I always mean what I say too," she started. "You're my main bitch, baby."

Dream made some sort of sound, a mix of a scoff and a whine but Y/n didn't comment on it, just glowing with heat in her cheeks.

"Leave before I don't let you," he said softly and the heat only grew.

"Goodnight, Dream," she pressed, the tone in her voice letting him know he was being a tease. "Thanks for... thanks for your tweet. And for everything you said earlier."

"Of course. Sorry that you have to see those kinds of things a lot."

"It's okay when I have people like you."

"People like me? What does that mean?"

"Just.... people like you." Cute, sweet, kind, genuine people who make her heart flutter.

She could hear his smile in his words and she figured he knew the unspoken words in her thoughts, the ones she was saying without saying. "Okay. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight."

**********

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[stillebesat]

Code: Blanket

Sanders Sides: Janus, Virgil, (Logan & Remus mentioned) Fic Type: Hurt/Comfort Prompt: “If you don’t know where to go, you can always come here.” with Anxceit? (platonic is 100% good for me) Blurb: A friendship doesn't stop just because one person decides to act like a dick. Especially when said dick is obviously in trouble. Overall Fic Warnings: Homophobia talk, Neglectful/Abusive Parents implication, Capitol Riot references. Taglist in Reblog

Janus Daemon @TheGatekeeper *12m To the ‘family’ that locked me in our unfinished attic these past 4 months to “knock the Antifa sh!t” out of me; Pretty sure this is worse than anything I’d have done. Don’t bother deleting the evidence of your ‘trip.’ It’s already been passed onto the proper Authorities. Cheers.

Virgil shot upright in bed, staring at the tweet and the handful of photos from the storming of the Capitol that Dee had attached along with it. “No way.” He breathed. No freaking way.

Janus. Janus Daemon, the goodie-two-shoes who always obeyed his parents and followed their lead...had actually turned them in as Capitol rioters?

He frowned, tapping on his phone to blow up the images so he could see the people within them better. Yah, no. Even if it had been ages since he’d seen Dee’s family...there was no denying that two of the dozen faces circled and labeled in the pictures were the same parental figures that he remembered sneering down at him before they forcefully dragged their son off the playground when he was six.

That had been right after...Virgil hunched his shoulders. After his Dad’s divorce from his Mom. Apparently hanging out with a child who only had a Dad in the picture was a big “NO” in their messed up book of rules.

Not that that had stopped them from becoming secret best friends in school...well until last year that is….when his Dad had married Remus.

That had...been rough...when word got out--well reached Dee’s parents and they’d stormed the school to find their son working on a project in the library with him, the ‘hooligan freak who dared to be okay with having two dads when it was unnatural to the natural order of things.’

He’d known, from Janus, that his parents were uptight...but that day had shown him how all Daemons were a Demonic Clan of Super Karens that had campaigned nearly as hard as the President to force both his Dad and Remus from their jobs in order to protect the community from their sort.

Unfortunately for the Daemons, they’d picked the wrong family to mess with. Not when his Dad, Logan Andrews, was considered to be the best lawyer in the state, if not the country. Not when his new husband, Remus Knight, had just finished performing a life saving surgery on the governor's daughter. No. The Daemons may be influential, but they were nothing compared to his parents when their Momma Bear instincts were roused.

Honestly...to discover that the entire group had drunk the kool-aid and actually stormed the Capitol to support the Orange Cheeto shouldn’t be so surprising.

Well...not everyone.

Virgil frowned, glancing back up to the first part of the tweet before he hit his contacts, scrolling through them to find Janus’s name only to hesitate over pressing the call button.

He hadn’t spoken to Dee in a year. Not since that fiasco. Not since his so called friend had taken his parent's side and cut off all contact, purposely burning the bridges of their friendship with sneers, glares...and well---

Virgil exhaled, closing his eyes.

Could a Demon change their stripes? Could Janus...could he---

Sure...it appeared he was finally rebelling against his parents...but he had no idea what Dee thought of him---Virgil gritted his teeth. It didn’t matter. “I made a promise.” He whispered, slowly opening his eyes.

Still. Maybe not a good idea to call. Janus had probably blocked his number anyways---

He swiped out of his contacts, switching to his barely used Facebook Messenger where he picked out Janus’s name from there, his fingers hovering over the keyboard.

Dee probably still wanted nothing to do with him.

He swiped a single word...once again hesitating over sending it.

They hadn’t talked in a year.

This could go so wrong.

And yet--

He hit send.

Virgil: Blanket?

He bit his lip, barely breathing as he stared at the little check mark symbol showing that Dee’s account had at least received the message.

Not that he really expected a response. It was Facebook after all. But Janus had just turned his family in. Did he have a place to stay? Had he been fed? Just how bad had it been for him to be locked in an unfinished attic over the summer by the people who supposedly loved him? Who had proclaimed they wanted to protect him. If---

His heart skipped a beat as the checkmark switched to Janus’s profile picture.

Dee had seen the message.

He stopped breathing as the three typing dots appeared.

Janus: Seriously?

“Ha.” Virgil relaxed, running shaking fingers through his hair. Not a totally unexpected response after everything. But far better than the hate filled rant he’d half expected to get. That had to be a good sign right? He had come up with that particular coded phrase as a way to judge his friend’s needs when Dee had pulled him into the hollow of an old oak tree on his way to the bus the day after his fateful encounter with the Super Karens on the playground with tears shining in his eyes.

Janus hadn’t wanted to return home that day because his parents had been so mad at him for playing with Virgil. He hadn’t understood why having only a Dad was bad--

He hadn’t been as understanding when Virgil ended up with two.

Virgil rolled off the bed, stuffing his feet into his shoes as he sent a one word answer back.

Virgil: Yes.

No typing dots appeared even though he could see that Dee had seen his response.

Unsurprising. Dee was probably wondering if this was some sort of trick, if there was a catch. Why would Virgil of all people contact him out of the blue after how he’d treated him?

He pulled his hoodie over his head, swiping his keys and face mask from his desk as he took a chance and pressed call, holding his phone up to his ear, listening to it ring as he left his room and moved downstairs.

A click sounded in his ear right before the voicemail could activate.

Janus had picked up, Virgil could hear the faint sound of sirens in the background, the shaky barely controlled breathing.

He wasn’t saying anything though.

That was fine. Not normal for Dee, who always liked to have the first and last word but Virgil could work with this.

“Offer still stands, Dee.” He said, keeping his voice low as he moved past Dad and Remus’s darkened bedroom, heading to the front door. “I’ve told you a million times that if you don’t know where to go you can always come here. You acting like the world’s biggest dick doesn’t change that.”

Janus may have thrown their friendship out of the figurative door...but Virgil--well he...hadn’t. Not really. He had been hoping Dee would come around--not like this...but if this could get his best friend back---

“You can’t mean that, Annie.” The voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Not after--”

“Dude.” Virgil tsked, scribbling a quick note to his parents because Dad would hear the car start up and be up like a shot once he realized Virgil was leaving after hours. “You just posted that you were locked up in your attic by your so-called parents.” He pulled open the front door, quickly slipping out before he jangled his car keys by the phone. “Unless you say Nest right now, I’m coming to get you and dragging you back. So. Blan--” He looked up and froze, staring at the shadowy figure hovering just outside the gate. ”-ket?”

Janus huffed in his ear, the figure at the gate shifting to grab onto one arm, rubbing it as they shuffled back a step.

Dee did that whenever he was nervous. Whenever he was afraid he was making the wrong choice.

He hadn’t spoken to Virgil in a year.

Yet he was already here.

Virgil was off the porch and jumping over the gate in a flash, grabbing onto Janus before his friend could change his mind and bolt. “Dee.”

Janus flinched, slowly lowering the phone, a crumpled face mask hanging from one ear, ragged hair half covering a deep purple bruise and three long scratches by his left eye as he ducked his head. “If...I said...Fort?’ He whispered, shoulders hunching as if expecting a physical blow.

Blanket Fort. A need for Protection. For Safety.

Virgil growled, tugging his friend into his arms, holding him tight, heart throbbing as Dee practically melted into him like a shaking leaf, breath hitching as his fingers dug into Virgil’s hoodie.

How long had it been since anyone had treated Dee with any compassion? Four months locked up in an attic. His family halfway across the country committing treason. Had they even left him any food when they left? Probably not from how bony Dee felt now in his arms.

“Janus.” Virgil said softly, holding him tighter as his friend shuddered in his arms, running careful fingers through his greasy hair. “I told you. You can always stay here.”

Part 2

[a-small-batch-of-dragons]

Go the Distance

Prompt: Hello, I absolutely adore your work 🥺😍🥺 your Sanders Sides angst is just so goooood!!! If you're up to it, I'd love to request a fic <3 Virgil has noticed [side(s?) of your choice; they're all good choices, I can't decide ;-;] has been distant and avoiding him and he just can't figure out what he did wrong but it's actually because [side] loves him and are trying to take some time to 'get rid of/push down their feelings' The angster the better but don't push yourself ^ Feel free to add or change whatever Have a great day and no worries if you don't do this 💜💜💜~@im-an-anxious-wreck 💜🖤

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re the best

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, some lite™ angst

Pairings: prinxiety, background platonic dlampr because found family dynamics motherfuckers

Word Count:  4191

Virgil and Roman's relationship hasn't always been, well, great. But it's been getting better!

Or, at least, it was.

Listen, Virgil knows he and Roman haven’t exactly had the most…painless history. Virgil’s introduction to the series was Thomas telling Roman his dream was to get rid of him and, well, Roman was first and foremost loyal to Thomas. Then the whole…insult thing, ducking out, and the absolute mess of the callback wedding debacle, it’s not exactly been smooth sailing.

 But—okay, and maybe they’d been a little harsher about things than absolutely necessary, and maybe Roman got hit with the consequences of their fights more than Virgil, and maybe Virgil hadn’t exactly been…overwhelmingly accepting of all of Princey’s little ticks.

 But they’d still been talking!

 After the wedding, no one was on good terms with anyone save Patton and Janus—and wasn’t that the shock of a lifetime—and Remus and Virgil. Because they made the smart choice and decided ‘nope, fuck that, I’m out.’

 It was a good choice. You have any idea how high their scores are in GTFO now? The first rundown’s a fucking cakewalk.

 Anyway.

 They’d been talking! Virgil still doesn’t know exactly what happened right after—he saw the video, of course he saw the video, but Roman sunk right to his room and there’s a good twelve hours between that and the next time Virgil saw him—but Roman had come out and approached him!

 Probably because he was still hurt by the end of the video—which oof, Virgil does not blame him for, that was harsh—and his only options were Logan, Virgil, and Remus and Logan, um, didn’t want to see anyone for a while and Remus is Remus.

 Side note: those two have been getting on better. Something about their twin Creativity thing meant Remus knew that Roman was hurting bad before even Thomas did.

 But Roman did seek him out, asking him quietly if he had a moment, just a moment, to sit together. Virgil had shrugged and passed it off as nothing only for Princey to literally sit on the floor and not make a fucking noise. He’d frowned and poked his shoulder, asking if he was alright.

 “Perfectly fine, Dark and Stormy,” Roman had said lightly, “and I’ll leave you in a moment.”

 “But you’re…” Virgil had waved to his silent form. “…not acting like you normally do.”

 Roman had laughed. “And here I thought I’d never hear you say you missed me being loud.”

 “Now let’s not jump to conclusions.”

 Sure enough, a few more seconds had passed and Roman had gotten up, quietly bid Virgil good day, thanked him, and left.

 You bet your ass Virgil sunk straight into Patton’s room to ask hey what the fuck did you do to Roman.

 Patton had sighed and said that they’re not sure what to do now—‘they’ being Janus and Patton. Virgil, still recovering from the whiplash of those two being close had shaken his head and told them to get it the fuck together.

 If he sunk into Remus’s room to ask how to take care of Roman, that’s his business. It’s also his business if he tackled Princey in a hug two minutes later.

 So. Talking.

 Roman, for all he talks, doesn’t really say much. The few things he does say are easily passed off as jokes, off-handed comments that no one really pays much attention to.

 Not that anyone pays nearly enough attention to Roman, come on, guys, he makes it easy.

 But Roman talked to Virgil. He’d come in and sit and Virgil would sit next to him, trying to make sure his arm didn’t burst into flames from where it was pressed against Princey—the dude’s a fucking space heater, okay?—just to listen. Some of the time it was Disney rants—okay, most of the time it was Disney rants—but some of the time…

 “Virgil?”

 “Yeah?”

 Roman looked down at his costume. Today was repair day, unofficially called when Virgil’s hoodie ripped during the night and Roman’s sword cut through his sleeve. Virgil looked up from his own mass of fabric, needle stuck in carefully so he wouldn’t prick himself. He frowned at the look on Roman’s face.

 “What’s up, Princey?”

 “Do you think my logo looks bad?”

 Virgil blinked in shock. Roman didn’t look up and see the surprise on his face, instead running his thumb slowly over the patch on the costume.

 “What the fuck are you talking about, Princey?”

 “It’s so complicated,” Roman said, still looking down, “Logan and Patton have really simple ones. You have a pretty simple one.”

 “Janus doesn’t. Remus doesn’t.”

 “Yeah, but they’re…”

 Virgil frowned deeper, putting his hoodie on the ground and shifting closer to Roman. The prince didn’t even look up, still clutching his logo in his hands.

 “They’re what, Roman?”

 Roman swallowed. “…allowed.”

 A growl sounded from Virgil’s throat before he knew what was happening.

 “And you’re not?”

 “Hmm?”

 “And you’re not allowed, Roman?” Virgil gripped his shoulder. “Look at me, Princey.”

 Roman looked up. Virgil swallowed another growl at the despondent look on the prince’s face. Instead, he gripped Roman’s shoulder tighter.

 “No one,” he said firmly, “is allowed to tell you your logo is bad. You hear me?”

 Roman blinked.

 “I mean it, Roman,” he said, softening his voice a little, “it’s you. It’s yours, no one’s allowed to tell you it’s wrong.”

 “So that’s…okay?”

 “Yeah, Princey, it’s okay.”

 “Oh.” Roman looked back down at his costume. “Okay. Thank you, Virgil.”

 “Anytime.”

 Virgil would come to be astounded at how much he means that.

 Because, really, now that Roman’s talking? Virgil’s fucking shocked that they didn’t realize how much Roman actually has to offer.

 First off, Princey’s smart as hell. Sure, L’s the resident braincell but you can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time.

 If Logan tries to tell you he’s not a dumbass sometimes he is wrong.

 Roman can puzzle solve with the best of them. Do you have any idea how much brainpower it takes to write a story? A script? Understand how all those moving parts fit together and make sense as a whole? Virgil sure as hell didn’t. He spent one afternoon trying to help Roman only for it to end up as Roman explaining what he was doing and Virgil frantically trying to keep up. Don’t even get him started on how impressive the Imagination stuff is.

 “It’s my job, Fall Out Brood,” Roman laughs every single time Virgil expresses how fucking cool this is, “have to be good at something.”

 And Roman is. He’s good.

 Second: Patton may be the heart, Logan may be the brains, but no one is as good at reassuring him as Roman. Probably has something to do with the Creativity gig. Roman had asked, politely, if Virgil would be comfortable telling him what to do when he gets really anxious, whether to leave him alone, get him somewhere safe, get him things, what have you. Virgil had told him, bemused, only to be shuttled into somewhere that screamed safewarmcomfortableeverythingisokay the next time he had a panic attack. Roman, with the lack of shame truly becoming of a theatre kid, had no problems cheering him up by loudly declaring he would fight whatever shadowy figures plagued his little nightmare, swatting at the air with his sword until Virgil’s sobs had turned into giggles. He never made Virgil talk about anything if he didn’t want to, didn’t try to sit and work through things if they weren’t ready, and never touched him unless he’d gotten the okay. The first time Virgil told him he’d be fine with receiving hugs in the aftermath was the warmest he’d felt in years.

 Princey gives really good hugs.

 Third: Roman’s fucking funny.

 Remember the whole ‘smart as hell’ thing? Know how Logan’s funny as fuck too when he lets himself be?

 Virgil’s lost count of how many times he’s had to gasp out for Roman to shut the fuck up because his sides hurt too much from laughing. He ends up sprawled across the fucking floor or the couch or Princey’s bed, dying very happily but painfully because Roman won’t stop making him laugh.

 Most of the time it’s due to something they’re watching and Roman’ll notice some detail that he picks apart until they’re both howling or Virgil will make one sarcastic comment that turns into a full fucking bit for like…ten minutes. Roman will just keep riffing off of the smallest thing until he’s laughing too hard to keep going—not very likely—or Virgil will flail out desperately and smack him—much more likely.

 Princey said he makes fun of the things he loves.

 …maybe that’s why he doesn’t make fun of Virgil anymore.

 Virgil curls tighter around the pillow, clutching it to his chest. As he rubs his cheek against it, he grimaces. It’s too rough. It’s not warm enough. It doesn’t smell right.

 They’d been talking. It had been good.

 But that was before.

 Before Roman had cautiously approached Logan with an apology, the offering of a new planner for him, the promise to listen to him, hear him out, give him space to speak. Logan had accepted.

 Before Roman had opened the border between his and Remus’s side of the Imagination, sending a little puppy scuttling over to his brother’s castle with a note, a dagger, and a vial of acid. It returned as a kitten with a beautifully poisonous rose.

 Before Roman had finally, finally, after days of trying, opened the door when Patton knocked, letting him come inside so they could talk, about everything that happened since…well, ever. They hadn’t stopped hugging long enough to walk down the stairs.

 Before Roman had let Janus, Janus, take care of him.

 And now…

 Now Roman didn’t want to be in the same room as him.

 It feels as if they’re walking on eggshells around each other again, Virgil appearing in a room only for Roman to completely disappear, getting up and leaving a conversation entirely just to avoid him, Virgil knocking on Roman’s door only for Roman to shout that he’s busy, not to come inside, Virgil, trying, trying to figure out where Roman’s gone, what’s happened, only to receive the cold shoulder.

 A problem none of the other Sides seemed to be having.

 He clutches the pillow to his chest.

 Did he—did he do something wrong?

 Does Roman—does Roman not like him anymore?

 Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so hard about talking to the others. Roman needed space, needed time, he didn’t need someone else breathing down his neck. He should’ve let Roman set the pace, listened more, been kinder to him when he needed reassurance.

 Maybe he shouldn’t have made Roman think it was his fault that the others were taking so long, or suggested that if he wanted things to get better he should try talking first. Roman had been taught by everyone else that things were his fault already, Virgil didn’t need to jump on that train too.

 Maybe he should’ve been kinder to Roman, less focused on making the others understand that they hurt Roman. Everyone in the Mindscape knew that Roman was hurt, Virgil should’ve helped fix that, taken care of Roman, not pushed the blame onto everyone else.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like what he had to say about Disney films. They were Roman’s comfort watches, the last thing he needed was for someone to cruelly rip away his enjoyment of one of the few things he could enjoy.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like Virgil’s way of taking care of him. Virgil never pushed, never did Roman the courtesy of asking, like Roman did with him, just assumed he knew best how to comfort someone and left it there. Roman might’ve needed more hugs, more time, less distraction, just something other than what Virgil gave him.

 Maybe Roman didn’t like how much Virgil ended up hoarding him to himself. Not letting him go to the others for comfort, just to work things out. Maybe he thought Virgil was just keeping him upset so he could hang out with him more.

 Or maybe…

 Virgil muffles his sob in the pillow.

 Maybe Roman needed or wanted him anyway.

 Maybe Roman was just waiting until he could get the comfort he actually wanted. Maybe he waited until the others were easier to talk to so he could go back to what he really needed. Maybe Virgil was just a placeholder until Roman could get hugs from Patton and Remus, talk with Logan and Janus, not him. Never him.

 Maybe that’s…okay.

 It’s not, it won’t be fucking okay for a long time, but one day, it will be okay.

 Virgil curses and throttles the pillow in his arms, wishing for it to be real, to be warm, to be a chest of white and gold and a splash of red, for it to wraps its arms around him and say it’s okay, shadow-ling, I’m here, I won’t leave you, shh.

 But it’s just a pillow.

 Has his room always been this cold?

 Have Disney movies always looked this flat?

 Has music always sounded this gray?

 Has Virgil always been this alone?

 He can hear them in the living room below him. He can hear Roman and Logan throwing quips back and forth, can hear Remus tackling his brother into the wall, and Roman protesting. He can hear Janus scolding Remus and checking to make sure Roman’s not injured, can hear Roman wave him off gently and go right back to verbally sparring with Logan. He can hear Patton laughing too hard, falling off the couch and begging the two of them to let up, let him breathe, can hear Roman coo and call him sweet, adorable, in that soft voice he only uses when he’s talking to someone he cares about.

 Can’t hear any of them worrying about where he is.

 Maybe it’s better this way.

 He got greedy, took too much of what was never his to take, what wasn’t given to him freely. He latched onto the first thing he thought was for him and didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t. He may think he’s been included in the famILY but he knows he’s still an outsider.

 He may be Virgil now but deep down he’ll always be Anxiety.

 So here he will stay, in the cold of his room, in the dark of his face smushed into a pillow that will never be real. He will stay and he will be happy.

 But not today.

 He sniffles and smears his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie, not bothering to pull away from the pillow long enough to wipe tears properly. His limbs start to protest as he hugs it tighter, tighter, tighter, but it’s no use. He can feel his own arms through the pillow. There isn’t enough—there’s too much give in the pillow. It’s just a fucking pillow but it’s not enough.

 Another laugh from downstairs and Virgil growls, burying his head in the pillow until he can’t hear himself think.

 Can’t hear anything but his own muffled sobs ringing in his ears.

 Can’t hear anything other than the thought swirling around and around his head that he’ll never be enough, that he’ll never be wanted, that he’ll never be anything other than Anxiety.

 Can’t hear the soft knock at the door.

 “Virgil?”

 The voices in his head must be getting pretty powerful because he’s certain he can hear Roman calling for him. He buries deeper in the pillow.

 “Virgil? Virgil, can you hear me?”

 Yes, he thinks, yes, I can hear you, which means I’m not crying hard enough.

 “Can I come in, shadow-ling?”

 Yes, he thinks, come in and make me forget that you don’t need me anymore.

 He must really be losing it because he thinks he can hear the door open and close again with a soft click, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a soft coo.

 “Oh, shadow-ling,” the imaginary Roman murmurs, “come here, little Stormcloud.”

 Oh, his imagination is being cruel to him right now because the sensation of warm arms around his waist and shoulders fucking burns. He buries his face in the pillow until he can’t tell which way is up anymore, not sure how he’s tricked himself into imagining Roman’s cradling him but too unwilling to let the illusion go.

 “That’s right, Stormcloud, relax for me, I’ve got you, I’m right here, shh, shh, you’re alright,” the imaginary Roman keeps whispering in that cruelly soft voice, “you’re doing great, shadow-ling.”

 Virgil wants him to be real. So bad he aches from it. But he knows he’s not.

 What happens next breaks his fucking heart.

 The imaginary Roman kisses him.

 It’s chaste, a barely-there brush of his lips against his forehead but it tears a whine out of Virgil’s throat before he can stop it. The imaginary Roman hushes him gently, pressing another kiss to the part of his cheek not buried in the pillow and it taunts him with how real it feels. The slightly chapped lips, the warm rush of air as Roman breathes, the light brush of his nose as he pulls away.

 It’s too much.

 It’s too much and he wants it to be real so badly but he knows the instant he pulls away it will vanish and that might just break him.

 Then he realizes the imaginary Roman is talking to him.

 “Breathe, Stormcloud, you’ve got to breathe,” he coaxes, “I know it’s tempting to stay buried in a pillow all day, but you can’t breathe properly like that, sweetheart.”

  No, no, don’t call me sweetheart, I’ll break.

 “Shadow-ling, Stormcloud, my darling,” the imaginary Roman says instead, “come on…”

 Well, now he’s disappointing imaginary Roman too. Figures. He can’t do anything right.

 “Of course you can,” the imaginary Roman pleads, “just breathe for me, shadow-ling, I’m right here, I’ve got you, you can keep your eyes closed if you need to, just breathe.”

 Another whine. Another kiss pressed against his head. The whine grows louder.

 “Shh, shh, my darling,” imaginary Roman murmurs, “breathe, come on, just—trust me, okay? Can I ask that of you, Stormcloud?”

 And goddamnit, this is why Virgil can’t do anything.

 Virgil trusts him.

 So he prepares himself for heartbreak and lifts his head.

 “Thank you, shadow-ling,” imaginary Roman—wait, he’s still here?—murmurs, rubbing his back, “there you go, now just breathe—oh! Oh, come here, lean on me, I’ve got you.”

 Having listed to the side horribly, Virgil lands against a solidwarmsafereal chest and—and—

 “R-Roman?”

 “Yes, my darling,” not imaginary Roman says, still kissing Virgil’s forehead, “I’m here, I’m here.”

 White-hot rage burns Virgil’s tears.

 He lets out a yell and shoves, not caring that it throws them both horribly off-balance, threatening to send him tumbling to the floor. He hears Roman cry out, trying to keep ahold of him, but he scrabbles and gets his hands around the bedpost and pulls.

 “Virgil—Virgil stop, you’re going to hurt yourself—“

 “Why do you care?” The rage coats his tongue. “You fucking left, you—you—you fucking didn’t care about me anymore, you decided you didn’t want me anymore and you fucking left so don’t try and care now!”

 “Virgil—sweetheart, I—“

 “Don’t fucking call me that!” He keeps his eyes squeezed tight. “You didn’t give a fuck about me when you left, when you got your fucking family back, you think—you think you can just waltz back in like you didn’t abandon me?”

 “Virgil—“

 “Because you did, Roman!” Virgil blindly shoves at where the prince was before, knocking him into the wall. “You fucking left me as soon as you got the others back like I—like I never did anything for you and now you—now you can’t even look at me.”

 “I’m looking at you now.”

 Virgil laughs.

 He throws his head back and howls until his chest and throat ache.

 “You didn’t give a shit when the others started talking to you. You just fucking up and abandoned me like you never cared about me in the first place. You replaced me with them or—or abandoned me as your placeholder and I’m fucking hurt, Roman.”

 “I know.”

 “Then why did you do it?”

 Silence.

 Virgil’s heart stops.

 No.

 No, no, no, no—

 He fucked up.

 He fucked up so bad.

 Roman left.

 Roman’s not here anymore.

 Roman left again, he made Roman leave, he—he fucked up so bad, he shouldn’t have yelled, he’s fucked up, he hurt Roman, no, no, no, no—

 On instinct, his hands hook into claws.

 Only to be caught by warmsolidreal hands and brought to something soft.

 “Don’t,” comes Roman’s softsaferealhurt voice, murmuring in his ear as he holds him still, “don’t scratch, sweetheart.”

 “Don’t—“

 “I know, I know,” Roman says immediately, “you said not to call you that. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

 …what?

 “I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” comes the voice again, “that’s no excuse, I know, but please, Virgil, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to abandon you.”

 Virgil swallows. “What the fuck do you call it then?”

 “I didn’t want to push my luck.”

  What?

 “You were being so good to me, Virgil,” Roman murmurs, oblivious to the internal struggle Virgil’s currently facing, “so kind, so supportive, that I…I realized I wanted to ask more from you. Things I had no business asking. And the longer you kept on being you, the harder it was to resist the urge to push and risk shattering everything you’d let me build with you.”

 “What—“ Virgil swallows— “what the fuck did you want?”

 Roman stills in front of him. With his eyes still shut, he can’t tell what’s going on, but when Roman speaks next his voice is hoarse.

 “Before I ask,” comes the whisper, “I want you to know that you have every right to say no. You can push me away, shove me out of your room, stay angry at me for as long as you want. I’ve hurt you, badly, and I have no right to ask this of you. I want you to know that. That I’m okay with you asserting that right.”

 Fuck, Princey.

 “…what do you want?”

 A pause. Then a soft rush of air, right on his face.

 “May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

 Oh.

  Oh.

  Oh, no.

 “R-Roman?”

 “That’s it,” Roman murmurs and oh, his mouth is right next to Virgil’s, “that’s what I want, shadow-ling.”

 He shifts a little until Virgil can feel Roman’s warmth.

 “That and everything that goes with it.”

 “Why—why did you leave? I-if that’s what you wanted?”

 “Because that would mean to push,” Roman says immediately, “and the last thing I wanted was to push you away. I thought if I could…rein it in, control it, I could…I wouldn’t hurt you.”

 A soft chuckle.

 “Look how well that turned out.”

 “But the others—“

 “I needed Remus to tell me what was going on,” Roman says wryly, “Janus to point out that I was okay in wanting something, Patton to help me figure it out, and Logan to kick my ass into doing it.”

 “To…to ask me?”

 “Yes, Stormcloud,” comes the whisper, “to ask you.”

 “And if I say yes?”

 He can feel Roman’s lips turn up.

 “…then I’ll kiss you, Stormcloud.”

 “Are you really here?”

 The question bursts out of him before he can stop it, immediately biting his lip in reprimand for letting it.

 “Open your eyes, Virgil,” Roman says softly, “look at me.”

 He shakes his head, not wanting it to be imaginary. Not now, not after this. Roman squeezes his hands.

 “Look at me, Stormcloud,” he whispers, “look at me.”

  Fuck it.

 Roman smiles at him, real and warm and soft and here. He squeezes Virgil’s hands again and takes the smallest step closer.

 “I’m here,” he says, wrapping Virgil’s arms around his neck, “I’m right here, shadow-ling.”

 He’s here.

 This won’t fix everything. But it’s one hell of a start.

 “Ask me again.”

 “May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

 Virgil shakes his head. “Not like that. Ask me properly.”

 Confusion dances on Roman’s face before realization hits. His smile widens and he brings a hand to Virgil’s head. Virgil clutches Roman tight as he gets dipped into the prince’s arms. Roman leans forward until his mouth almost catches Virgil’s.

 “May I kiss you, sweetheart?”

  “Yes.”

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[joviewinchester]

“You’re absolutely positive you can’t come with me?” Y/N asked Matt.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I work that day. Maybe you can ask Ty or Stefan or something.”

“Yep. Been there done that. Stefan has plans to hang out with Caroline and Tyler has another wedding to go to by some stupid twisted chance of fate. I hate June.”

“You can…well, I’m not even going to suggest that torture.” Matt said cutting himself off.

“What? Anything is better than the torture of my family trying to set me up with someone.”

“You could ask Damon, but then again, he’s literally the worst. I guess pick your poison. Damon Salvatore or wedding set up. Personally I’d go with the latter.”

Y/N patted Matt on the shoulder and sighed. “You don’t know my family.” She exited The Grill and reluctantly drove to the Salvatore Boarding House.

She knocked, and Damon immediately opened the door. “You know, I was wondering when the tension would catch up to you.” He smirked.

“That is not why I’m here, Damon. I need a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

Y/N sighed and took a deep breath before starting her rant. “I need a date to my relatives wedding, and i’ve already asked literally everyone else i know, so i know you probably hate me, but please say yes. Otherwise they’ll try to set me up with someone, and they have awful taste.”

“And what do I get out of agreeing to this?”

“Um…I don’t know? The wedding is literally tomorrow and I have no other option so…I have no clue. Whatever you want.”

“Whatever I want, huh? I’ll let you know when I figure out what that is. What time does this wedding start tomorrow?”

“Wedding’s from 5:00 to 6:00 and the reception’s from 6:30 to 10:00, unfortunately, I have to help with setup, so I have to be there three hours early, it was almost five luckily I got out of that, but I’m not going to make you deal with that, so I’ll leave from there early, come pick you up around 4:30. Dress nice…but not too nice. You’re already going to outshine the groom. My cousin does not know how to pick em.”

“That was a very trivial way of you saying you think I’m attractive. I’ll be ready, and don’t think I’ll forget that you owe me.”

“I wasn’t saying that! And I didn’t think you would forget. Not even for a second. And one more thing, please don’t eat any of my relatives.”

“Oh I’m not that bad. Why would I eat one of them when I could eat you?” He said eying her from head to toe.

“Stop making everything sexual! I’ll see you tomorrow!” She exclaimed as she brushed her hair to cover her red face.

He watched her as she walked back to her car, because let’s be honest with ourselves, he loved to see her walk away, then he shut the door and poured himself a glass of bourbon.

“Did Y/N just ask you to her cousin’s wedding?” Stefan asked walking downstairs.

“Why yes she did, brother.”

“Then you’re welcome. I don’t actually have plans with Caroline tomorrow. I told her that so she’d ask you. Don’t screw it up.”

“Really Stefan? I could’ve gotten the girl on my own. I’ve had plenty of practice.”

“See? That’s what I’m talking about. Y/N is different. She likes you, but she doesn’t like you just because she wants to sleep with you. She likes you because she wants to be in a relationship with you. If you don’t want that, then don’t lead her on. Promise me you won’t lead her on.”

“Do you really think that low of me, Stef?” Damon asked placing his palm over his chest.

“I won’t hurt her. Believe it or not, I actually like her, and tomorrow I’m going to be a perfect angel around her family, and she’ll have no choice but to invite me to another family event. I will be the best fake boyfriend. Mark my words.”

The next day was absolute torture for Y/N to say the least. “Y/N, Mark and Angela have to be seated near the back. They have not earned the status of front and center. Move the cards.” Her cousin, Allison, was normally really sweet, but she was an extreme bridezilla.

Y/N rolled her eyes but did as she was told. She expected for Allison to follow her every order when her wedding came around.

“So, Auntie Bethany has invited a really cool guy to set you up with. His name is Reggie and he’s so much nicer than the last one.” Allison said taking a minute to rest, which did not bother Y/N one bit.

“First of all, I’m eighteen which is freshly out of high school, I don’t know why she thinks it’s so urgent for me to settle down. Second of all, mom is going to be real disappointed because I actually have a boyfriend now and I invited him. I mentioned him a few weeks ago to you.”

“Now that you say that, I remember you mentioning it.” Yeah, she didn’t say a word, but Allison bought it and that’s all that mattered. She’d been pushing her to get a date since the wedding was announced.

“Speaking of which, it’s 4:00 and I told him I’d be there to pick him up at 4:30. You don’t mind me leaving a bit early do you?”

“No. Of course not. Chloe, Lilly, and Amy will help me finish my makeup then I should be all ready! Can’t wait to meet this mysterious boyfriend of yours.”

Y/N waved at the other bridesmaids, who all glared back at her for leaving them alone, and got in her car to get Damon. She knocked.

“Just a minute!” She heard him call. He opened the door a couple minutes later.

She smiled brightly. “You look great.” She said.

“Yeah, and you look…gorgeous. Your cousin was very generous with the bridesmaids dresses.” Damon commented.

https://shoplook.io/outfit-preview/2847398

“Come on. If we’re late I will not hear the end of it.”

Once they arrived, there were literally like five minutes till the start of the wedding. “Shit.” She muttered. “Just sit down and avoid eye contact at all costs. I really wish she hadn’t made me a bridesmaid.” Y/N muttered the last part and got to her place.

The ceremony lasted forever. The only thing that made it tolerable was watching Damon mess with the dude sitting next to him.

“Oh my god. That was literally the longest wedding ever. Why the hell did she force us to wear heels?”

“On the bright side, you were definitely the hottest bridesmaid up there.”

She elbowed his side playfully. “Oh shut up. Now come on, we need to get going. If we’re late to the reception, my mom will kill me. I haven’t even got to talk to her yet.” Y/N to practically dragged Damon to the car.

Of course the reception was about as cliche as the ceremony. It was held in a big old barn decorated with fairy lights.

“There’s my mom. Come on, act coupley or whatever, and be on your best behavior would you?”

“Oh, Y/N I’m hurt. When am I not?” He wrapped an arm around her waist.

Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling slightly at his antics.

“Hey, mom.”

Her mother looked kind of upset. “Come on, Y/N. You should’ve told me you were bringing a date. Reggie is going to be disappointed.” Her mother motioned backwards towards a guy who was already making out with another bridesmaid.

“Yeah…that him? He doesn’t seem too upset. I wouldn’t worry about it. Mom, this is Damon, my boyfriend.”

They shook hands. “Hi, Mrs. Y/L/N. It’s great to finally meet you. I’ve heard so much, and can I just say, you look lovely this evening. Speaking of which, where’s the lucky man?”

“Oh, he’s just over there talking to the groom. I’m glad that Y/N has finally gotten a boyfriend. I was starting to think she was going to be single forever.”

“Mom, cool it, will you? I’m eighteen years old. I just enrolled in college. I’m not getting married anytime soon. I know that’s how people in our family usually do it, but I don’t want to be married and have three kids running around by the time I’m twenty five. Okay?”

“You may feel that way now, dear, but wait until the baby fever catches up to you.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“I need a drink.” She mumbled with hostility.

“Y/N Y/M/N! You are not drinking any alcohol!” Her mother scolded after her.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure she doesn’t get into too much trouble. You just have fun. Raising a girl with that attitude must have kept you away from fun quite a bit.” Bethany laughed.

“You have no idea.”

Damon followed Y/N to the open bar, and found her with a wine glass filled to the very top.

“Dude, first of all you aren’t even of age, and second of all, do you really want to get drunk at a relative’s wedding? Answer, no. No you don’t.”

“You don’t know what I want, Damon. Just go charm off the pants of another middle aged woman.”

“I’m trying to be a perfect fake boyfriend so your mom will get off your back. Did you already drink one of these?” He asked taking the glass from her hands and swirling it around.

“Yeah, duh. Did you meet my mom? She makes it her mission to control every aspect of her life. I love her, but some alchohol would really help me love her even more. Here gimme that.” She said grabbing the glass from his hand. She downed the whole thing in one go as if it was just a shot glass.

“Y/F/N! No! You are banned from this bar for the rest of the night. Come on.” He hoisted her over his shoulder.

“Damon...what are you doing? You’re supposed to be the least responsible one in this fake relationship.” She whined.

“No. I’m supposed to be like a real boyfriend which means I have to keep you out of trouble and do everything I can to make your parents like me which is what I’m doing.”

“Come on. Just let me walk. I won’t do anything stupid. I promise.”

“No.” Y/N huffed.

“Fine. If you want some douchebags looking up my dress then whatever.”

“Fine! Okay fine. I’ll put you down, but only because I’m your douchebag, and I don’t want anyone thinking otherwise.”

They ran back into Y/N’s parents.

“Did you get her away from the bar before she went psycho?” Mrs. Y/L/N asked.

“No. I took away the wine glass and she took it back and chugged it.” Damon said glaring at her.

“I��m fine. See?” She walked in a straight line.

“Oh come on Bethany. Lighten up. If you think she isn’t too young to get married then don’t you think in that mindset that she isn’t too young to drink alcohol.” Her father, Chris, said.

Y/N snapped and pointed at her dad. “Yeah. He’s totally right? Ready to admit that eighteen is too young for someone to get married?”

“Fine. It’s too young. Now no more drinks for the rest of the night, missy.”

She smiled triumphantly, but then she started sulking again. “Rest of the night? As in I have to stay here for the rest of the night and not drink anything?”

“Fine. You can leave like an hour early, but come talk to me before you leave. Have fun, but not too much fun.”

Y/N smirked. “I thought you wanted grandkids?” Her dad choked on his drink.

“Y/N!”

“Kidding. I’m obviously kidding…mostly. Bye!”

“You’re a lot of fun when you’re not avoiding being killed by some type of villain. I like you when you’re not in serious mode.”

“I’m so so sorry that I don’t have any witchy woo or an immortal life, but you do have to admit, I am amazing with a crossbow.”

“Yeah. Yeah. Sure you are. Even though you’ve almost hit me multiple times.”

“Exactly. I’m amazing with a crossbow. By the way, Allison wanted to meet you. We should get that over with.”

“Okay. That was uncalled for. You can’t just change the subject after admitting to trying to murder me multiple times.”

“You would have healed. What do you want me to do? Fall at your feet like Elena?” Y/N asked clearly passive aggressive.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. Stop walking for a second. Are you jealous of Elena?”

“What?! No. Why would I be? I don’t…I don’t even like you!”

“This wedding has proved that statement otherwise. Come on. Admit it. You. Are. Jealous. You want to get with all of this! You want to go for a ride on the Salvatore train!”

“No! No! No! I don’t! I don’t like you! I don’t want you! You... you infuriate me to no end!”

“But you like that don’t you? You like it when I get you all flustered. And don’t think I didn’t catch you blushing earlier when I called myself yours, given I said I was your douchebag, but you still blushed. Not to mention the fact that you put my hand back on your waist when we were walking back from the bar. You like me.”

“No I don’t! Everything that happened here was for show! It was for show.” She defended.

“The only reason you didn’t want to invite me to this wedding is because you knew that I would get your heart racing. Yeah. I can hear that.”

Y/N ran her hands over her face in frustration. “Oh. Don’t mess up your makeup. I can do that for you later.” Damon smirked. So what? His plan to be perfect didn’t last very long, but this plan seemed to be working just fine.

“Stop. Stop saying stuff like that.” She whisper shouted.

Damon leaned in. His mouth was only inches away from her ear. “Why? Does it…frustrate you?”

Y/N gave him a glare and crossed her arms, huffing. Damon smirked. She grabbed his wrist and took him outside.

Damon still had a smug look on his face. “You wanna know how you really make me feel? Yes, Damon! Yes you fucking frustrate me! You make me question my existence on a daily basis and sometimes I even wonder why me?! Why does he like me?! I’m no Elena. I’m not the perfect annoying ass girl next door, and I still don’t know the answer, but you know what?! Since you’re deciding to push me and push me until I explode, I love you, Damon Salvatore! I fucking love you!”

After seconds of tension filled silence and staring at each other, Damon smashed his lips against hers. She immediately kissed him back. She felt his hands gradually slide further down her back, until they were groping her ass. She pushed him away out of spite. “No.” She stated crossing her arms defiantly.

“Really? You’re going to be like this? Now?”

“Yes. Yes I am. Say it back and maybe I’ll be more lenient.” She sassed.

“I thought it was a given. I’ve literally been flirting with you and pining after you for months, Y/N. Of course I love you.”

“Was that so hard?” She joked. She leaned in to kiss him again, this time resting his hands on her butt. He squeezed her ass making her gasp, and slipped his tongue in her mouth.

“Woah. Woah. Woah. This isn’t your honeymoon Y/N.” Allison had walked out of her own reception looking for her.

“Oh, shit. Sorry Alli. So what’s up?” Y/N asked slightly out of breath.

“Well, I was promised that I could meet your mystery man, but you were nowhere to be found. I decided to look for you myself. Aunt Bethany was complaining about your grandkids joke earlier. I didn’t think you were serious.” She joked.

“So, this is Damon. Damon this is my cousin, Allison.”

“Nice to finally meet you. By the way Y/N, I connected the dots, and I realized after getting out of the point where I was completely freaking out, sorry about that by the way, that this is the same Damon that you literally used to call me just to complain about on the daily.”

“Hey, now. Let’s not bring that up, especially the things that I said…” Allison cut her off.

“She used to call me and talk about how annoying you were. I believe one time she called you a flaming douche nozzle? That sounds about right. Every single call always ended with her saying he is so infuriatingly attractive. It’s not even fair.” She knew she was embarrassing her cousin, and to be honest she loved it.

“Hey! He doesn’t need an ego boost! Trust me. I would know.”

“Okay. Okay. All jokes aside, if you are leaving, your mom and dad wanted to talk to you. Oh, and I won’t tell them about this little encounter. I know how they can be.” Allison winked and walked back in the building.

“Was it just me, or did we just get permission from the bride to leave? Come on we have got to hurry up and talk to my parents so we can get out of here.”

“What’s got you in such a rush to leave?” Damon winked.

“None of that. Stop. No. No. Bad.” She said pointing her finger at him.

“Relax. I won’t be myself, but only for you.” They walked back into the reception making a bee line to her parents.

“Hey mom, we’re about to head out.”

“Y/N, your lipstick is a little smudged.” Her mom said. Damon had to look away to stop himself from laughing.

“Huh. Is it? Must’ve been from where I got a drink. Anywho I love you guys and we will see you later.”

“Wait a second. Damon would you like to come over for dinner this Friday?”

“Of course. I’d love to Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“Great. We cannot wait to see you again. Alright. I won’t keep you. Have a nice night.” They both waved goodbye to her parents and headed back to the Salvatore house. They walked in, and Damon poured a couple of glasses of bourbon.

“I have been accepted by your family. I’d say this calls for celebration.”

“I thought I wasn’t allowed to drink, dad.”

“Oh shut up. You can do whatever the hell you want when your parents aren’t there to witness it.” Y/N rolled her eyes, and flopped on the couch.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m tired. I’m going to sleep no matter what you say.”

“Come on then.”

“Where?”

“If you’re going to sleep then you’re coming with me to a comfy bed, not the couch.” Instead of waiting for her to reapond or get up, he slug her over his shoulder and took her upstairs.

“Goodnight, Damon.” She said sleepily.

“Goodnight, sleeping beauty.”

[kasienda]

The Five Minute Adventures of Snake Noir: Ch 7 - Five Minute Adventures of Ananta

Chapter 1: I Want It To Be You

Chapter 2: Best Friends

Chapter 3: Best Laid Plans

Chapter 4: A Thank You

Chapter 5: Unwanted Revelations

Chapter 6: Miraculous Abuse

Chapter 7: Five Minute Adventures of Ananta

Adrien’s room felt more like a prison than it ever had before, and he had always felt like the walls were closing in on him a bit, and so that afternoon he had snuck out to Nino’s the second he had managed to chase Nathalie out of his room. 

Nino’s room - despite being small and cramped - never made Adrien feel claustrophobic. Adrien suspected it had something to do with the company. 

“What should my snake name be?” Nino asked out of nowhere.

“You’re not going to use it!” Adrien objected. “You don’t need a name.”

“Come on, dude! Just for fun!” 

Adrien sighed. “Basilisk.” 

Nino tapped his lips in consideration. “It’s okay. I don’t feel much like the king of anything.” 

“Python.” 

“Boring.”

“Diamondback.” 

Nino’s eyebrows furrowed together. “What does Diamondback have to do with anything?”

“It’s a type of snake,” Adrien explained, and then turned to Nino with a smirk. “But it’s also a type of turtle.” 

Nino just shook his head. “That’s a better reason not to use it. No associations with turtles! We gotta keep my identity super secret!”

“The best way to keep it secret is to not use the snake at all!” 

“What about something to do with time?” Nino asked, ignoring Adrien’s objection. 

“Cronos.” 

“Also boring! Dude! Why are you so bad at this?”

“I don’t see you coming up with anything.”

“Because you’re definitely the cooler of the two of us,” Nino said.  

Adrien shook his head. “Nino, I named myself Black Cat. I’m not super original when it comes to names.” 

Nino laughed. “Fair point.”

“And you are just as cool as me,” he insisted, though he whipped out his phone anyway and typed out a search for ‘names related to time’ and started scrolling through various sites with baby and pet names. 

“What do you think of Baqi?” Adrien asked. “It means eternal.” 

Nino frowned. “That’s an arabic name. Do you think me taking on an arabic name is potentially identity revealing?”

“Okay, here’s one in sanskrit. Ananta.”

Nino nodded. “A bit of a mouthful, but I like it.” 

Adrien’s eyebrows rose. “A mouthful compared to Carapace?”

Nino laughed. “What’s it mean?” 

“Infinite.” 

“Dude! Perfect. Let’s go with Ananta. I wonder what I look like with the snake.”

Adrien groaned, seriously regretting in that moment giving Nino the Snake instead of Ladybug.

“Do you not want me to?” Nino asked seriously.

Adrien waved his hand in encouragement. “Just do it. I’d be curious too.” He was curious, too. 

Nino grinned and scrambled to his feet. “Sass! Scales slither.”

Adrien found himself mirroring Nino’s excitement. These silly stupid moments with Nino were the ones that were keeping him sane at the moment. 

The rest of the time he was a bit of a mess. 

Keep reading on Ao3

Adrien found himself a lot more resentful of his homework than normal when it stole away most of his time to spend on his friends and on himself now that he was used to being able to finish at least half of it in the space of five minutes as far as the rest of the world was concerned. 

And it didn’t help that it was suddenly so much harder to pay attention in class since he was hyper aware of Marinette sitting right behind him every single day. 

Seeing her in general was really hard because he knew how she felt. He knew that if he asked her out she would likely say yes, and he had to hold himself back. Before he had given up the snake, he had been able to scratch that itch by visiting her in the evenings in a time loop. 

Now? Now, he had to survive off of her garbled greetings and flustered blushes. 

He lived for her blushes. The blush that had always been there since he had apologized to her in the rain the day they met. He had thought she was just shy and self-conscious. But now, it was easy to recognize that she didn’t do it around anyone else - not even Chat Noir. That blush was reserved for Adrien Agreste and Adrien Agreste alone. 

It meant that she loved him. 

It was a good thing that it didn’t take much to trigger. Just a simple greeting often did the trick. 

“Good morning, Marinette.” 

And the pink would bloom across her cheeks like flowers in spring every time. 

That blush kept him from going out of his mind. It reminded him that she still loved him even if she wasn’t able to say it. 

A god, he hoped that she didn’t say anything because right now, he wasn’t ever going to be able to say no. 

“G-good morning, Adrien.”

He smiled. Her stutter was less reliable. She was getting better at talking to him, which he figured was a good sign, but he also loved that he could still fluster her on occasion. “How are you?” he asked. 

“I’m fine,” she said.

He didn’t like that answer. He knew that it wasn’t real. He turned to her as she sat down, and leaned into her space. “Marinette, how are you, really?” 

She looked at him in surprise. “I’m… things were rough for awhile, but I think I’m starting to get a handle on the new order of things.” 

“I’m glad.” And he meant it. Telling Alya had clearly changed things for her for the better. He was so glad she didn’t have to hold the weight of the world alone anymore. 

“How are you?” she asked. 

He shrugged. “I’m still figuring out my new order of things, but I like to think that things are actually trending in the right direction.” It might even be true. He wasn’t sure, to be honest. He was definitely getting better at coping with the absolute insanity his life had become if nothing else. 

“Will you let me know if you need anything?” she asked.

He smiled. “Of course.” 

It wasn’t everything he wanted. It wasn’t everything he knew the moment could be. 

But… it was enough.

At least most of the time. 

When it wasn’t, he called Nino and screamed about the injustice of it all, whines about how unfair and unreasonable his father was,  cursed Shadowmoth’s existence to all nine levels of hell, ranted about how much he just wanted to be able to be done with it all so that he and Ladybug didn’t have to worry about akumas or the end of the world. They could just be teenagers.

They could just be happy. 

But Shadowmoth clearly had other plans. After a lull, the akumas exploded both in frequency and awfulness. The encounters were taking longer to handle - especially without the benefit of the snake - and Adrien was having a much harder time explaining his disappearances and his father was suddenly breathing down his neck even more than usual. 

“Your marks have not been up to your usual standard, Adrien.” 

“I’m sorry, father.”

“Need I remind you that you promised you would continue to excel if you started at public school? If you cannot maintain the usual standards of excellence, I will not hesitate to return you to lessons with private tutors.”

Adrien hung his head. “Yes, father.” 

“In the meantime, you will spend less time with your friends until your grades improve.” 

Adrien sighed, and trudged back to his room. The punishment meant almost nothing because as far as his father was concerned, he only was allotted an hour a week with his friends, and usually a photoshoot got scheduled on top of his scheduled “friend time”. And of course, Adrien was actually hanging out with Nino almost every day without his father’s knowledge. 

But he felt exhausted anyway. He was tired of shoots, he was tired of homework, he was tired of Akumas, and he was most definitely tired of pretending. Tired of pretending for the sake of his father’s company image, tired of pretending he wasn’t worn down to nothing from all the responsibilities of both his personas, tired of pretending Marinette was just a friend. 

He flopped onto his bed only for the akuma alert to go off two minutes later. Adrien groaned. It was the second one that day and the fifth one that week.

But Adrien dragged himself to his feet anyway. At least he would get to see Marinette again.

But it wasn’t Ladybug he ran into on the scene.

It was Ananta. 

“What the hell are you doing here?!” Chat Noir demanded. 

Ananta was hiding hunched over in an alleyway with the whole akuma scene in clear view. “Just offering a little insurance. I haven’t actually engaged in any of the battles, but they’ve seemed a little rough lately.”

“Battles?” Chat Noir repeated. “As in plural, as in more than one?”

Ananta winced. “Yeah, I’ve been doing this for the last four or five akumas because things have seemed super dicey for you. But I haven’t actually engaged with the akuma or anything.”

“How many loops?” Adrien asked harshly.

“So far, none. You’re that awesome, dude!” Ananta raved, clapping Chat Noir on the back.  “You would have known if I had been through a loop because I’d have to intervene to give you the info on the last loop, right?”

Adrien relaxed. “Right.” 

....

But the akuma after that, Nino did intervene. 

But at least Ananta had managed to stay out of Ladybug’s sight and out of any pictures. 

And after the fact, Nino had insisted he had only needed three loops to defeat that akuma. 

“I don’t like it,” Adrien had insisted anyway. “Please, don’t use it anymore.” 

“Dude! I’m not doing this for some adrenaline rush. I’m not like Alya who goes looking for trouble, or like you who insists on throwing yourself in front of the blasts. I’m doing this only because it’s clear that Hawkmoth has stepped up his game, and you need support.” 

Adrien started to object. 

“Ladybug needs support, too,” Nino added. 

Which was such a low blow. Because Adrien was never going to be able to argue with that. 

“Unless you want to take it back?” Nino offered.

Adrien considered it. He didn’t want Nino to get stuck in a battle loop. He didn’t want Nino to experience anything like Desperada. At least in his own case, he was already damaged and traumatized by what he had experienced.

But even the idea of taking it scared the crap out of him. Because there was no way he wouldn’t use it to visit Marinette. 

He missed her with every fiber of his being. It had only been three weeks. Three weeks where he hadn’t been able to have a conversation with her without filters, three weeks since he had been able to kiss her. He hadn’t been able to kiss her for like three weeks. Three excruciating long weeks where he hadn’t been able to tell her that Adrien and Chat Noir were one in the same. Where he had been truly seen for all that he was and truly loved because of it. 

And the more time that went by the less convinced he was that he’d be able to come out of that loop.

“No, you should still hang onto it,” he whispered. 

“Or if you wanted, we could give it back to Ladybug,” Nino suggested. “She could hand it out to whoever Viperion is.” 

Which was reasonable. Though Adrien wasn’t sure he wanted Luka to experience a bad battlefield loop either. 

Then the akuma alert rang simultaneously from both their phones. Adrien covered his hands in his face. 

“Gah! Does he never sleep?!” 

“Come on, mec. Let’s go.” 

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” 

During the battle, Nino had intervened, but he hadn’t intervened with Chat Noir; he had spoken to Ladybug in the final loop. The battle had gone amazingly smoothly after that, but Ananta slipped away before the traditional fist bump and Ladybug was not pleased. 

She was pissed. 

“You lost the snake?!” Ladybug demanded, her blue eyes flashing in anger.

“I didn’t lose it!” he said defensively. “I know exactly where it is.”

“You gave it away? Why?”

His claws tore through his own hair as he took a deep breath. “Because… it wasn’t safe with me anymore,” he admitted softly.

Some of her anger faded, replaced with concern. “What does that mean?”

“I can’t explain without telling you things you’ve told me not to tell you.” Which was mostly true. 

She fidgeted on the spot, considering. “Can you tell me who he is?” she asked. 

He laughed. “Definitely not.” 

“What?! Why not?”

“I gave it to my best friend, Ladybug. If you know who he is, you’ll know who I am. And that apparently might lead to the end of the world,” he bit out sarcastically. 

She frowned. “Are you okay?” 

“No,” he admitted. 

“What can I do?” she asked. 

“You can’t do anything,” he told her gently. “I’m handling it.” 

“I… I don’t like not knowing what’s going on with you,” she admitted. 

He laughed darkly. “Welcome to my world.”

She blushed. She actually blushed! He had made her blush as Chat Noir! Sure, it was probably more out of embarrassment than love, but he would take it!

“I guess I deserved that one,” she said. 

He took her hand and squeezed it. He wished he could sweep her into his arms and kiss her senseless, but he couldn’t risk that. “I know exactly how frustrating it is to be left in the dark.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. 

He shook his head, squeezing her hand through their gloves once again. What would it feel like to hold her hand when neither of them was transformed? He wanted to find out. He wanted it so bad.  

“I’m not trying to make you feel guilty,” he said. “I just want you to know that I understand. And I will tell you everything when it’s safe. In the meantime, can you please just trust me?”

She nodded. “Absolutely. You know that I do!”

And he did, now, didn’t he? 

He smiled. 

“I’m just…  I’m scared that if something happens to you, the snake will be lost,” she said.

“The person I gave it to knows how to get it back to you in that case,” he said.

“And how would he get it back to me?” she asked.

“He’d give it to you or to Rena Rouge during a patrol.”

She seemed startled at his inclusion of Rena Rouge, but she nodded. “You trust him?”

“I trust him more than I trust myself. And as much as I trust you.” 

“And they can handle the side effects of the snake?” 

Adrien sighed again. That was the million dollar question, wasn’t it? Could anyone handle the effects of the snake? “He’s done really well so far. This wasn’t the first battle where he’s been here, offering us a bit of insurance.”

She winced. “Yeah, the akumas have sucked lately.”

“Tell me about it.”

She sighed. “I’m sorry that I questioned you. I do trust you and your judgement. Your friend can keep the snake as long as you think it’s best.” 

“Thank you, LB,” he said softly. 

She nodded and smiled. He returned the expression and offered her a friendly salute. 

Then he vaulted straight for Nino’s family home. 

“How many loops?” Adrien asked without preamble. 

Nino rolled his eyes. “It was nineteen this time. But it wasn’t bad at all, dude. Kinda weird and trippy, but not so bad.”

But Adrien didn’t like it. He feared the number would keep growing. How many loops was too many? 

Adrien didn’t know.

…

His father had missed eight dinners in a row, and Adrien couldn’t decide if he felt relieved or disappointed.

On one hand, his father’s absence meant Adrien could ask to eat in his room, which meant he could escape the mansion that much sooner. And Nino actually wanted to spend time with Adrien.

It also meant he’d avoid his father’s censure about everything from his last photoshoot to the way he held his fork. Adrien simply did not have the energy to be on his best behavior.

But his father’s continued absence also felt like it reaffirmed Adrien’s fears - that his father didn’t care. And the longer his father’s absence the more desperate Adrien was for any sign, no matter how small, that his father had thought about him at all. 

When his father’s scowling face did join him at the dining room table on evening number nine, Adrien regretted ever wishing for his father to make an appearance. 

“Your grades have dropped unacceptably low,” were the first words out of his father’s mouth.

Adrien fought off his eye roll. He literally had two B’s and the rest of his classes were A’s. Admittedly one of them was borderline, but he didn’t think anyone else’s parents in his class would have found his performance subpar even if this was the lowest his own grades had ever been in his life.

“You also didn’t behave professionally at the last photoshoot. You arrived late and your hair and make-up had to be redone.”

Adrien sighed. That had been four Akumas ago. Or was it five? Honestly, Adrien was losing track. 

“We didn’t get all the shots we needed. It has been rescheduled for Monday morning. You have two weeks to turn around both your attitude and your grades,” he father said without an ounce of warmth or concern, “or you will return to home schooling.”

Adrien sighed. “I’m sorry I have disappointed you father. I have been… having a hard time maintaining my motivation lately.”

Gabriel’s expression did not change at all. “Why?” he asked. 

Adrien froze at the question. He didn’t know what to say because he knew there wasn’t a correct answer. And not answering at all wasn’t acceptable either. He was going to lose here no matter what. 

He shouldn’t have said anything other than he would try harder.

Well, if he was screwed no matter what, might as well go with the truth.

“I think I’ve been depressed lately,” he admitted. 

“You’re not qualified to make that assessment.”

“I suppose not,” Adrien conceded. But would his father offer to send him to someone who was? 

Most likely not.

“What do you have to be depressed about?” Gabriel asked coldly. 

And something within Adrien just snapped. Whether it was his sleep deprivation, being beyond overworked both physically and mentally, or his longing to drop all the masks, or some combination of all of it, Adrien didn’t know. 

“Are you kidding me right now?” Adrien demanded. “Every second of every day of my life is planned without my input or consideration. I have no control. But I do all of it anyway. I train for national fencing competitions, get perfect scores, work I-don’t-know-how-many hours a week modeling for you. I have no space to breathe, let alone enjoy anything. I feel like a programmed robot going through a routine!”

The room fell into silence as Adrien’s tirade ended abruptly. Every muscle was locked and tense, waiting for punishment and condemnation. And despite that, Adrien couldn’t bring himself to regret it because, well, he was screwed either way at this point, so he might as well go down with a bang.

“Are you finished?” his father asked. He didn’t raise his voice, but Adrien flinched anyway. 

“Yes, father,” he said meekly. 

Gabriel removed his glasses and began cleaning them. “Clearly, I have expected too much of you.”

Adrien knew better than to find any relief in that conclusion. 

“I will arrange with Nathalie to have your schedule adjusted. She will add additional recreational activities suitable to a boy of your age, and reduce your current obligations significantly.” 

Which translated to they would remove him from school and schedule his so called free time with activities that Adrien had no interest in or with other teenagers he didn’t know.

“Father, I appreciate your concern,” he said formally. “That will not be necessary. I was having a weak moment. I will work harder,” he promised, though Adrien knew he wouldn’t be able to manage much more at the moment. 

His father nodded. “I look forward to seeing notes of your improved performance this Friday.” 

And now he had five days instead of two full weeks. 

Adrien wanted to scream. And he did scream later that night when he had escaped to Nino’s bedroom for the tenth time that week. He ranted and complained about the unfairness of it all, and Nino just listened with rapt attention.

“Can I at least deck him, dude? Please?” Nino asked when Adrien had finally run out of steam. “Just once? He won’t even remember!” 

Adrien laughed. “It won’t help anything.”

“I might feel better,” Nino disagreed. “You might, too.” 

And then an akuma alert sounded from both of their phones. 

They both groaned, but a second later, they had both transformed and were leaping out of Nino’s bedroom window.

The akuma was a porcupine the size of a bus. It’s spines did not look remotely friendly. That first impression solidified tenfold when the akuma started hurling the spines off its back like javelins in a jousting tournament. 

But despite his initial misgivings, the fight could not have gone more smoothly. 

Ananta had barreled both he and Ladybug out of the way, and helped them identify the akumatized item pretty much instantly. The whole encounter lasted about three minutes. 

But when he turned to Ladybug and Ananta for their traditional fist bump, Ananta had pushed past the offered fist and tackled him in a hug. Adrien returned the embrace with a surprised grunt. A second later he felt Nino’s quaking form in his arms. 

Apparently, the fight hadn’t been all that smooth afterall. 

“How many loops?” Adrien asked softly. 

“You don’t want to know,” Nino sobbed into his shoulder. 

“Ananta,” Adrien growled.

“1,674,” Nino admitted.

Ladybug tried to reassure them both with small hands on their shoulders. Nino just pulled her into the hug, too, and didn’t let go. 

“I’m really glad you’re both okay,” he cried and then he dissolved into wracking sobs again. Chat Noir and Ladybug both held him tightly.

But Ladybug couldn’t stay, as she was about to time out. She pulled away from their group hug with a concerned frown. 

“Are you going to be okay with him?” 

“Don’t worry,” Adrien assured her. “I’ll take him home and make sure he’s okay.” 

“I’m sorry I have to run,” she said.

“Don’t worry about it,” Adrien said again, before wrapping one of Nino’s arms over his shoulder and vaulting them both up to the nearest rooftop. 

He then ducked them both into a secluded alleyway that Chat Noir had used to transform before. Nino hadn’t stopped crying the entire time. 

“Nino, can you hear me?” 

Nino nodded.

“You need to lose the transformation, so we can feed Sass. Can you do that?” 

Nino managed to follow the instructions through hysterical sobs. Adrien followed suit and both kwami’s ate a slice of Plagg’s cheese. It was a sign of how serious everything was that neither kwami complained. Adrien transformed again.

“Okay Nino. You need to transform again, and then start a loop. Stay in that loop until you’re able to stop crying, you got it? It doesn’t matter how long it takes. I will be here with you the whole time.”

Nino was still shaking and crying, but he managed to choke out the transformation phrase and called for his second chance. 

Instantly, Ananta stood before him, infinitely calmer than he had been just a second prior. 

“Woah,” Adrien said. “That’s weird. How long?” 

“Just a few hours,” Nino said, his voice was quiet, but it was steady. Adrien wrapped him into a hug. 

“Thank you,” Nino whispered. 

“As you have told me many many times, as many times as you need, whenever you need.”

“I don’t know how you have dealt with it so well,” Nino said. 

“I mean, you don’t remember all the times I was as much of mess as you were just a few seconds ago.” 

“I remember you freaking out about learning Ladybug’s identity,” Nino countered. “I… I didn’t understand why you didn’t want me to use it for battles. I… get it now.” 

“I’m sorry,” Adrien whispered. 

Nino shook his head. “The alternative would have been so much worse, dude. You would have lost this one.” 

“Thank you for saving our lives then. I’m sorry for what it has cost you.” 

Nino shrugged. “I think I’ll be okay. Can I keep it for a few more days? Abuse it a bit?” 

Adrien nodded. “Yeah of course. Abuse it like crazy and it will put space between you and what happened.”

Nino nodded, and actually smiled. And for the first time, Adrien was positive things would be okay. 

“I already have some ideas,” Nino said.  

“Do I want to know?” Adrien asked. 

Nino’s grin was wolffish. That was a no.

“Have fun, dude.”

… 

Nino still felt shaky the next morning. It was too easy to close his eyes and see his best friend impaled through the chest, his green eyes wide in shock. But it almost worked out in his favor because it hadn’t taken any convincing for his parents to agree he should stay home from school. They thought he was coming down with something - that he had chills. 

He didn’t correct them. 

He just rocked himself back and forth, nursing the tea his mother had brought up to him, and waited for both of them to leave for work. The second the door had closed behind them, he had bolted out his window as Ananta. 

The freerunning helped, but it wasn’t enough. He had just gotten too good at it - he could leap across rooftops almost without thinking now, and certainly without any fear. What could seem terrifying after everything he had seen the day before? 

And that was how Nino found himself on top of the Eiffel Tower staring down at the ground below - the ground that according to his best friend was 324 meters below him. Adrien had said at one point long before Nino had ever known of his friend’s superhero identity that it would take just over eight seconds to fall to the ground, probably a little longer because of air resistance. 

Nino had never thought anything of why Adrien had taken the time to calculate that. He had just assumed Adrien was a nerd who liked physics and had too much time on his hands. Now, he found himself wondering if Adrien had calculated that for an entirely different reason. 

Nino activated the second chance and leapt off the tower backwards with an ecstatic whoop. He slid his fingers across the bracelet five seconds into his fall, and rematerialized at the top of the tower giggling. 

Now, that was base jumping. He performed the trick dozens of times diving off the tower in different angles and positions. 

He knew Sass did not approve. The kwami had said as much when he mentioned the idea this morning. Adrien likely wouldn’t either, but Nino would only tell him well after the fact. 

But the adrenaline rush was exactly what he needed to wipe away the memories from the day before. 

Next, he had broken through his homeroom’s window, and swept Alya up in his arms. He definitely noticed Marinette’s disapproving glare, and Adrien burying his face in his hands, but he didn’t have to care about this. In four and a half minutes, this would have never happened. 

“Ask me to tell you that I love you,” he said. 

She arched her eyebrows. “Am I going to regret this?” 

“Nope! No repercussions today.” 

“Tell me that you love me,” she said, her face alight in a grin. 

“I love you,” he said. 

“How much?” 

“More than a superhero,” he said. 

She smiled, and her fingers locked around his neck. Then he kissed her hard. The whole class was catcalling behind them, and Ms. Bustier was trying to restore order. 

Alya was giggling against his lips. “I can’t believe you.” 

“I’m just getting started,” he promised. 

He went through hundreds more loops abducting Alya from parts of her day. It was different every time, and he was insanely grateful that she played along as soon as she realized it was him each time without even knowing that he was having a tough time. 

Or maybe, she did know. Like, she had covered Ananta’s exploits the day before on the Ladyblog. He hadn’t been able to bring himself to read the post, but someone had no doubt had caught the tearful group hug at the end of the battle, and Alya would have had a better guess than most what that likely meant. 

And so when he showed up as Ananta and revealed himself to be her boyfriend she would know that had been him. 

She didn’t ask questions or demand explanations. She just laughed and kissed him over and over. She let him abduct her from their dreary classes over and over and bury his face in her curls and wrap himself in her protective embrace until his senses were overwhelmed with all things Alya.

God, he loved her so much. 

The tricky part was then trying to escape from each of their teachers. Surprisingly Mendeliev had been the easiest to slip around, but Bustier had given him quite the run around. 

Once the school day was over he had followed Adrien’s limo home. He had intended to spend a few loops just being stupid with Adrien, but once there… well, he had been wanting to give Gabriel a piece of his mind since Nino had befriended his son. He had only held back because Adrien wanted him to, and Gabriel was terrifying. If only one of those things had been true, Nino thinks he would have pushed it ages ago. 

Ananta set the timer from the rooftop of the mansion and then broke through the front doors. 

Nathalie jumped to her feet, but he ignored her and stormed straight for Gabriel’s office. 

Gabriel rose to his feet more slowly than Nathalie had to face his intruder. 

“Gabriel Agreste, I’m here to tell you that you are the absolute worst parent.”

The older man gestured Nathalie away from the door. She stepped back, but she did not close the door. 

“You are trespassing on private property. I demand that you leave,” the stoic man said, barely raising his voice, which Nino found infuriating. 

“No! Not until I’ve said my piece.”

Gabriel took a visibly annoyed breath. “You’re clearly a teenager.” 

“Your point?”

“You’re hardly qualified to judge my parenting approaches.” 

Nino wanted to pull his hair out.

“Except that I am because I’m the one who picks Adrien back up everytime you tear him down!”

Gabriel considered him stoically for a moment, his hands hidden behind his back. 

“Mr. Lahiffe, I have already banned you from the premises. Your adopting an anonymous persona does not negate those rules.” 

“Your rules are stupid and unfair! Adrien is amazing! He gets the highest grades! He has an insane work ethic, and is always kind and respectful to everyone! He does everything you ask of him! And then he does more! He’s an Olympic level fencer and is fluent in three languages!

“And somehow, you still find him wanting. You never give him the time of day. You never tell him you’re proud of him or that you love him! At best, you ignore him, and at worst you take the time to point out every tiny fault!” 

“He internalizes everything you say, everything you ask for. He tears himself to pieces trying to meet your impossible expectations, he buries his struggles and doubts, and you don’t even acknowledge his effort or his love for you.” 

Nino was shaking in rage at this point. Gabriel still seemed unaffected. 

“Are you finished?” The man asked indifferently. 

“No! I’m not! I don’t know if you know how much you’ve harmed him! How many times I’ve been legit worried that he was going to hurt himself or give up! 

“Somehow, he’s been able to survive it. But not because of any of the crap  you’ve taught him about being strong and exceptional. He’s just that resilient!” 

“Which is a good thing because he’s also Chat Noir!”

Gabriel’s lips tightened and his eyes narrowed, and Nino wanted to run a victory lap for finally getting a reaction from the asshole. 

Nino barreled forward. “He manages being a superhero in between all the hoops and circus you run him through! And if he’s been struggling more than normal lately, it’s only because Hawkmoth has been putting him through the wringer.” 

“Nathalie!” He called. 

Nathalie marched into the room so fast, Nino was convinced she had been waiting right outside the open door the entire time listening in. 

“Didn’t we eliminate the possibility of Adrien being Chat Noir during Gorizilla?” 

Nathalie typed something into her tablet and handed it to him. 

“It looks like we did not get facial confirmation, sir. The person we presumed to be Adrien was wearing a helmet.” 

Gabriel removed his glasses and began cleaning them. “My own son, this entire time.” 

Nino felt the hairs on the back of his neck rise at Gabriel’s emotionless words that felt like a prison sentence.

Nino’s miraculous beeped. 

Gabriel’s stormy grey eyes shot toward the sound, and Nino took an involuntary step back.

And then Adrien’s father did something Nino never would have predicted. He lunged forward and struck Nino in the knee, and grabbed for the snake miraculous.

Nino dropped to the ground in agony, and jerked his arm just out of reach behind his back. 

“Second chance!” Nino screamed, sliding his other hand over the switch, grateful that he had so much practice in the last few days that the motion was automatic. 

He was back on the roof of the Agreste Mansion. His knee cap was fine, but his heart was roaring in his ears. 

That had not gone as he had been expecting. Not at all. 

Gabriel had actually attacked him and tried to take his miraculous. 

Nino wasn’t sure what it all meant. But he knew it couldn’t be good. 

...

[siriusmydeer]

Oh and Hello to you today you fine and brilliantly skilled author who I have came to love and adore, you see I know I’d already recently requested something from you but I had a taste of your absolutely amazingly fine talent and just had to come back for more

Ya see, this person here (hem hem, me) would like to ask if she could request something dealing with Young Remus Lupin Remmy Boi being a sweet older brother during the summer to his adoptive sister who is almost his age and very gay and him letting her hang out with him and the Mauraders because her friends were douchbags and skippy skip to Remus letting her rant about it while they sit in his bed, her head in his lap while she’s curled up in a ball and he’s half-heartedly reading while talking to her about her douche-bag friends before he cuddles his sis to his chest and lets her sleep in his bed that night

Anywho, sorry for annoyin you again but I’ve had a shit day and wanted to relax with one of my fav authors and a cuppa tea

baby i was so excited to write this, my internal message to homophobes lies within this one shot. y/n’s vent gave me very “gia ranting her her friends about being bi and it should be nobodies business”

my little sister

brother!remus lupin x fem!reader, girlfriend!marlene mckinnon x fem!reader

warnings: homophobia, mentions of slurs, mentions of conversion camp, angst? but not rly, fluffy remus, WOLFSTAR💋, swearing, jokingly mentions of murder, big brother energy from remus, um mentions of penises and masterbating😭, lowkey ravenclaw slander (ONLY MALES I PROMISE) and y/n being a baddie

word count: 1.3k

you were.... happy. yes, not in a sarcastic way. you had finally found a girl that didn’t just want to be your friend, or hate crime you. you found a girl that you wanted to kiss, a girl you wanted to love and girl that reciprocated that love. but unfortunately for you, your love choices had consequences and everyone else thought it was there business, commenting on it.

“𝗼𝗶, 𝗹𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗻! 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘁𝗼𝗹𝗱 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹 𝘆𝗲𝘁?”

“𝗰’𝗺𝗼𝗻 𝗹𝘂𝗽𝗶𝗻, 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘆𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗳𝗮𝗸𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 𝘀𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝘆𝗲𝘁?”

“𝗶 𝗯𝗲𝘁 𝘆/𝗻 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝘁𝗼 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗽𝗿𝗶𝘃𝗮𝘁𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗿𝗺 𝘀𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝘀 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹 𝘂𝗻𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗳𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝗮𝗿𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗲𝗿. 𝗶 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝘀𝗵𝗲’𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝗹.”

“𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗱𝗼𝗻’𝘁 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗮 𝗰𝗿𝘂𝘀𝗵 𝗼𝗻 𝗺𝗲, 𝗿𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁? 𝗶 𝗺𝗲𝗮𝗻 𝗶’𝗺 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁.”

so to society, you weren’t normal. the worst part was you weren’t always the one hearing it, the girls in your dorm heard it, your brother heard about it and his best friends also happen to hear about it. that also never happened to stop them from shooting a hex or 20 in someone’s direction but, nonetheless, you “weren’t normal.”

you were sitting in the library studying next to your gorgeous girlfriend, marlene mckinnon. oh did something as innocent as studying get flipped into so much more, both of you working on mcgonagalls transfiguration homework. all fine and well until the 7th year ravenclaws decided to crawl up your butt and die.

“i see you two haven’t been sent away yet.”

“aw well if it isn’t the two girls who think they’re in love.”

“the two fa-“

one of the boys didn’t even get to finish his sentence before your wand was pinned against his neck, and suddenly he was speechless.

“‘m gonna say this as delicately as possible to spare your shit feelings but, before you finish your very derogatory sentence i would love for you to reconsider your words.” you started, “i personally think it’s hilarious that you gits are so bothered by whomst m’intimate with.”

“for being known as the smart house, you 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 are so bloody stupid. i could rip out my own brain and give it to you and it still wouldn’t be enough for you to learn how to mind your damn business.” you said firmly, “your 𝗺𝘂𝘀𝗸 has sunken into the air, so me and my girlfriend are going to get going.”

you took your wand away from his neck before the 3 boys scrambled to the other side of the library, in fear. you gathered both you, and marlene’s things before slinging your bags over your shoulder and walking out of the library. before you could turn the corner, her other arm gripped your arm putting you both to a halt.

you turned towards her beet red face, and eyes shining in adoration. “dude, i think that was the hottest thing you have ever done.” she said before pulling you into a lip lock outside of the library. would you have been very nervous in any other situation?absolutely. i mean you were kissing a female, in public, at school, in 1975. but in this moment you couldn’t care less about anything or anyone, just the beautiful girl that you were besotted with kissing you right now.

“good.” you giggled as you pulled away before pulling her arm in the direction of one of the hidden corridors.

the next time you found yourself diminished over your sexuality, you went to people who you genuinely felt safe and comfortable with. you burst through the marauders dorm, forgetting to knock but quickly covering your eyes.

“i really hope none of you are masterbating right now, because i’m sure as not in the mood to see a penis.”

“c’mon mini-moony, you’re literally never in the mood to see a penis.” sirius replied, you uncovered your eyes and saw sirius walk over to remus’ bed and put his head on remus’ shoulder, and a light blush covered both of there faces. james on the other hand was on the floor writing lily, one of the only other people who supported you, another love letter.

“ok so let me start, sirius and remus please splash some cold water on your face. james, get off your arse and actually be a normal person and try and have a normal conversation with lily because i assure you she doesn’t even read those letters. and the grand finale, if i get called 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 one more damn time necks will be broken and body parts and fluids will scatter on the floor.” you huffed, and sat at end of remus’ bed nonchalantly.

at the part of your mini-monologue where you mentioned being called a slur, james and sirius happened to jump from where they were, surrounding you with questions. “who called you that?!” “i need names, now, mini-moony.” meanwhile remus aggressively grabbed his wand and made a bee-line to the door. “OI! BROTHER OF MINE.” remus stopped at the sound of your voice and turned around, his grip on the wand leaving his knuckles a shade of white. “sit. now.” he scoffed before sitting on the bed staring straight at you.

you debated for a moment, before looking at remus. “lucius malfoy and his toerag puppy dog, evan rosier.” you shrugged before all of them made a run at the door, messily grabbing their wands stomping down the stairs leading to the common room.

as fifth year came to an end, summer eventually came to a start. as you were unpacking your trunk and putting your clothes in there rightful spots in your dresser before you heard a knock at the door. “come in!”

remus opened the door, leaning against the frame. “hey, you okay?” he knew it was a stupid question to ask, but ever since you came into his family he felt a sense of protectiveness over you. he would always look at you like a little girl who needed her laces double knotted because she would trip on them, and how she needed to climb on furniture to grab something and especially when his little sister wasn’t his little sister anymore and became and illegal animagus for him.

“having your picture with nice little names on them, i’m brilliant.” you said sarcastically before sitting on your bed and remus following your lead. he leaned his back against the headboard as you threw your head on his lap, curling yourself to make yourself as tiny as possible. “i mean why the hell does anyone care anyways? it’s not like i’m intervening in there lives, i’m not killing anyone? it works the exact same except it’s a girl and not a boy. i just don’t understand why everyone thinks they should have an opinion on something that isn’t there business to start with.” you vented as he rubbed your back, while reading. “i mean, i understand.” you looked at him with a raised brow, “sirius?” he sheepishly looked up from his book and nodded before looking down at his book again and blushing.

“please, i could spot that from a mile away. i mean you aren’t exactly subtle, at the mere touch you both look like you got out of a sauna.” you said, matter of fact like and pointing your finger in the air sassily, “at least lily and james don’t care.” he mumbled trying to make you and him feel better. “everyone shouldn’t care, but then again everyone else in this universe is also a pest.” you sighed, as he continued reading but not before speaking.

“people are stupid.”

“you’re right, people are stupid.”

“but you know what makes us feel better?”

“what?”

“chocolate.”

“wow remus, it’s almost like i had no idea.”

“well i’m always right, so suck it up and take it.” he said shoving a chocolate bar in your face.

“i mean you could always have a sleepover with me where we eat chocolate and laugh at bad movies?” he said before looking down at you.

“remus, first yes, second how the hell does sirius put up with your ‘know-it-all-ness’?” you looked at him smirking, clearly he didn’t like that and he closed his book smacking it against your head.

“𝗼𝘂𝗰𝗵 𝗿𝗲𝗺𝘂𝘀!”

[barkkletshunt]

Those Worth Fighting For Part five

Eyy~ I actually stayed up later than usual to get this part out lol I hope you all like it! The comments I’ve gotten on this are really encouraging me to keep going with this and I really appreciate all of you who have taken the time to let me know what you think <3 

Now, enjoy part five! 

Part one

Part two 

Part three

Part four 

Part six

Part seven

Part eight 

Marinette was out enjoying her day like a normal girl for once. She had a full itinerary and she was making great progress on her list. In the morning she went out and bought fabric, sent Felix possible designs for the table arrangements, and then she was going to grab lunch with all the groomsmen in order to help Felix feel more comfortable around them. 

He had texted her the night prior telling her he was concerned that they held his past actions against him. While she couldn’t blame her friends if they did, she had spent enough time with Felix in the past few days to realize he wasn’t the same person as he was back then. She doubted the others would hold it against him, given their own pasts with akumas, but she wanted to make sure that Felix didn’t feel ganged up on regardless. Even if it was just a precaution Marinette promised to be there to mediate any possible disputes with the condition that he bought her lunch. 

His reply made her heart skip a beat. 

“It’s a date then,” he wrote. 

She had read and reread that text a number of times, hoping that he’d either send a ‘lol JK’ her way and put the butterflies that had made a home in her stomach to rest, or he’d tell her he was serious. She hated not knowing if it was a joke, because against all odds she was really starting to like that clever blonde boy that would tell her how genius her ideas were. 

Marinette knew it was stupid to catch feelings so soon, especially after declaring it to herself that she wouldn’t be part of a romcom, but she was caught helpless each time he’d stop off at her apartment to go over colour swatches for the table cloths or decorations and bring her a coffee without having being asked. Felix was sweet and she always had a sweet tooth. 

Despite the crush that was bubbling up inside her, Marinette hoped that Felix was late to their little meeting so she could talk it over with the boys. She hoped that they’d be able to decrypt that four worded message that had left her sleepless most of the night. Was he serious? Was it a joke? Who knew? She didn’t. 

That didn’t mean she wanted to make a fool of herself and wear track pants on something that could possibly be a date. Just in case. She didn’t want to come on too strong and say she was for sure interested and obviously dressing up to impress him, despite how he had told her two nights ago that she looked nice after she had woken up from a post exam nap with her hair knotted and drool stains on her mouth. There was no impressing anyone after they saw her like that, and no matter how much she prayed the ground didn’t open up from beneath her and swallow her whole. 

Marinette also didn’t want to go so low as to make it seem like she had no interest on the off chance that he did want to date her. Sure, he was still deciding on whether or not he was going to make Paris a permanent move or not, but perhaps having a Parisian girlfriend would make him want to stay, because if she was being honest with herself she did want him to stay. Even if he wasn’t dating her, he was a great guy who she’d love to spend time with. Dating him would simply be a bonus. 

Her thoughts had drifted to the blonde man more times than she could count as she ran her errands. She pictured his stoic face as he sat in Kagami and Adriens kitchen and budgeted everything they needed for the wedding with a hefty set of wiggle room just in case they went over. She could still hear his hushed whisper as he tried to be discreet about telling her a bad pun his cousin once told her that he had remembered, not wanting to let Adrien know he thought they were funny. She could even still smell that warm floral tea-like fragrance that clung to him like perfume, that she had been able to smell as he leaned on her to rest while they were going over Kagami’s dress design and how to make it match with Adrien’s.  

She had it bad already and it hadn’t been that long since they had met again. There was just something about Felix that lit her heart on fire and she wasn’t ready for it, especially not with everything else going on in her life. Still, if Felix felt the same as she did, there were worse 

So even if it wasn’t a date, Marinette dressed up as if it was. She spent time making sure her hair was done up right, and her outfit matched perfectly. She had even busted out the pair of fake leather heels she loved that laced up at the front in bows. Her outfit was cute, and in turn it made her feel cute. So after throwing on a simple brown jacket to go along with the shoes, she went out. Ready to meet her friends and possibly get some much needed advice if Felix was late. 

She really hoped he’d be late.

When she got to the restaurant she realized that luck really was on her side, as both Nino and Felix were yet to arrive. Nino would be there shortly, but she wasn’t as intent on getting romantic advice from him as she was the other two. So once Marinette was seated in the restaurant with Marc and Nathaniel, she began ranting. 

"And then he said, it's a date! A date! Can you believe it?"

Her two friends shared a look. 

"I mean, yeah. I can." Marc said, taking their boyfriends hand in their own and squeezing it. "Mari, you had our entire class in love with you at one point."

"We all had an agreement not to pursue you to make it fair for everyone else." Nath recalled. 

Marinette rolled her eyes at the exaggeration. "Not everyone was in love with me."

"Oh, my sweet summer child, how naive you are." Marc cooned, reaching their free hand across the table to take hers. "It would be no surprise that Felix joined the Marinette fanclub."

"But," Nathaniel started, "if you really want to know if he is interested in you there is a surefire way to find out."

Marinette straightened in her seat, intent on the redhead. Nathaniel never led her astray and she wanted the advice. She’d do almost anything to get rid of the nervousness she felt that could only be compared to when she was younger and Adrien had said something flirty on accident. "What is it?"

"Ask him." 

She groaned, hitting her head off the table and causing the silverware to clatter together. That was not the answer she wanted."Do you have any idea how much I cannot do that? He’s like super charming and he says I have good taste and just talking to him over text makes me get all anxious. If I try to ask him it’ll be like Adrien all over again! Remember how well that went for me?”

The two grimaced with her as they remembered how often she would forget how to talk around her long time crush, and how even more often she would end up tripping or falling over herself because of it. No one wanted a repeat on her crush on Adrien.

"Hey Dude, Dudette, and fam." Nino called. The DJ's gender neutral term for Marc made the ravenette smile, and they responded by waving at Nino as he made his way past the empty tables that were in between him and his friends. It only took Nino a moment before he realized Marinette didn't lift her head to say hello. "What's got Mari in a funk?"

"She wants to know if a guy is interested in her, so we suggested she ask him." Nath explained, and that was all that needed to be said for Nino to understand. He had known Mari for the longest and she had never been one to confront someone when it involved herself. Bullies? She'd get in their face in a heartbeat and yell at them until they straightened out. Romance? Not a chance. 

"Hey, Dudette, do you like this dude?" Nino pulled a chair out from beside Marinette and sat down. Nino placed his hand on his childhood friends back, rubbing soft circles on her shoulders. “Because if you don’t then it doesn’t matter, but if you do, well then you gotta ask.”

“How about you guys see how this guy acts near me and then send me all his subtle dude signals through text or something.” The girl lifted her head to give the best puppy dog look she could muster up, and from the collective sigh that came from the group she knew she had won. 

“I still think asking him would be easier,” Nino lightly elbowed Marinette in the side. “But hey, he’s late like you normally are. He could be your soulmate after all.”

“I’m not always late!”

“Just a majority of the time.” Marc joked. The four fell into an easy conversation about how often Marinette was late to important events, and soon how each one of them were going to be responsible that the maid of honour was on time for the wedding.

“We’ll have to remind Kagami to set the wedding time to three hours early on Mari’s invitation just so she’ll make it just on time.” It was Nathaniel’s turn to tease her, but Marinette wasn’t taking it.

“Well, let me remind you that I am the whole reason you and Marc ended up together. Just saying. Without me snooping around you two would have walked past each other a number of times.” Marinette pointed out, remembering the time she helped the two set up dates soon after they met.

“If I’m not mistaken I was turned into an akuma-”

“And in the end you got the man of your dreams, so we should stop picking on the amazing matchmaker here and perhaps we could,” Marinette’s voice trailed off as she felt rumbling beneath her seat. The smiles on her friends' faces vanished as they all stood, checking each door for a possible sentimonster attack. The doors stayed put, and they almost believed it was an earthquake until the ground below them began to split open with the sounds of creaking metal signalling the monster had arrived. The creature was a giant snake made out of the metal pipes beneath Paris, and if the smell that wafted from it was anything to go by Marinette figured the main pipe of his body came directly from the sewer. 

Everyone scattered, running to the exits as fast as their legs could carry them. Nino made it out the fire exit, while Nathaniel and Marc escaped to the kitchen. Marinette drove behind the bar, hoping against all odds that she’d find the perfect moment to transform in order to save everyone.

That was when a familiar voice broke through her panic.

“I understand you’re a sewage pipe, but this fight is going to be a real drain.” 

Marinette covered her mouth, resisting the urge to scream out at the black cat holder. Was it the miraculous itself that made its owner make such terrible puns? Was there no escape from the puns that haunted her superhero youth?

The cat hero circled around the destroyed restaurant as the pipe snake kept the knobs it had for eyes trained on him. When he was close to the bar the snake dove for him, and Marinette jumped out of her hiding spot to push him out of the way. “Duck!”

Marinette squeezed her eyes shut, waiting for the pain to hit her. There was no pain, but there was the sound of a racing heart beneath her ears. 

ScapeGoat, Mattamorphis, and Carapace were already there behind them, keeping the snake occupied as Marinette got her barings. She began lifting herself up when she caught the gaze of the hero beneath her. 

“Am I at a vending machine?” The cat hero muttered, his voice rough from getting the wind knocked out of him seconds before.

Marinette blinked. Was he concussed? She didn’t think that was possible while in costume. She looked over his head, looking for any blood or sign he was seriously injured. “What?”

“Because a snack just fell on me.” He said, grinning like a fool at his own terrible pick up line. She wanted to punch his smug face, but she’d have to wait till after she got into her suit. “Not that I’m complaining.”

She pushed herself up, determined to run off to change before she punched the man in his idiotic face, but the new cat stopped her by grabbing her wrist. She looked down at him, watching the belt he had flick around behind him like a real cat's tail. “Wait.”

The hero stood and grabbed Marinette’s shoulders. He put his other arm under her knees, and lifted her up like she weighed less than a couple of grapes. She gawked at him, unsure of what to do. This was not the time to be chivalrous, and she could have sworn he had said that flirting on the job was unprofessional. 

The hero took her out of the restaurant and made sure she was a few blocks away before setting her down. “There, this should be far enough away.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” she started, but he held a hand up and got down on one knee. Panic filled her. What was he doing? Was he being serious? Now was not the time for some cheesy joke. “What are you doing?”

Instead of the fake proposal she was half sure would come, the black cat began tying one of her shoes up. Marinette assumed it came undone at the restaurant, but she wouldn’t have to worry about it since she’d be changing soon anyways. 

“Shouldn’t you be, uh, fighting that monster Mr. Cat?” Marinette asked, unsure what it was he was after.

The man stood up once her shoe was tied and smiled, a smile that if she wasn’t so furious she would have swooned at.How could he be so nonchalant about the whole situation? He had left three people behind to fight that living pile of pipes just so he could go and flirt with a girl? He wasn’t meant for that miraculous and now she was sure of it. “I will be, but I have faith in the other heroes. For now, I just wanted to make sure your laces were done up.”

“So I can run away safely?”

“So you don’t go falling for anyone aside from me.” He winked. 

Stupid flirtatious cat. 

“Besides, that is only one of the multiple heads of the snake. I’m going after the main one, I was just nearby here to start with.” Wait, what? The man looked off in the distance, towards the center of Paris. “I can’t stay long. If you see the other heroes pass by please let them know that the snakes are coming from the sewage museum. Oh God, they have one of those here?”

“Hold on a second, how could you possibly know that?” She asked, astounded by the amount of information he had. 

As the cat hero displayed the black device in his ear she remembered what he had said the other night. He had a bluetooth earbud hooked onto a police scanner. “I have ears all around Paris, sweet flower. Now, as much as I’d love to stay here and tell you all my hidden tricks, I must be off. The sentimonster’s true head is getting close to where I left a trap and I can’t leave it there by itself. Besides, I think Ladybug is waiting for me somewhere or another.”

I don’t think that’ll be a problem, she thought to herself. 

“Wait,” Marinette grabbed his arm as he started to back away from her, for what she had no doubt was going to be a dramatic exit. “I don’t feel right calling you Chat Noir, do you have a hero name yet?”

The hero’s face displayed his shock just for a moment before a smile brighter than the sun formed on his soft pink lips. “I don’t have one yet, why don’t you think of one for me?”

“You want me to pick?”

“Of course, it’ll remind me of the beautiful woman with bluebell eyes that gave the name to me.” The cat winked.

Marinette couldn’t help but laugh. He had told her he didn’t need a superhero name just the other day, but now he wanted one from her? He was flirtatious and full of tricks, there really was only one name for him. “How about from now on, we call you Alley Cat?”

“Alley Cat?” He said the name, tasting it on his tongue. “I like it. And who is the wonderful lady who named this poor Alley Cat?”

“Oh no, first names are for the second time you save me from a monster.” Marinette shook her head, trying not to burst into a fit of giggles seeing his fake heartbroken look.

“Then I guess I better get at it.” Alley Cat gently took her hand in his leather clad palm, and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles. “I hope to save you again soon, sweet flower.” And with that the cat was off, bounding across Paris at a speed that only reminded her of the urgency behind the movement. 

She had gotten swept up in their little conversation that she forgot what she was supposed to be doing. What was wrong with her these days? First Felix being an absolute sweetheart and getting her to reevaluate her opinion on him, now making her get butterflies wherever she thought of that soft chuckle he had when he found something she said was funny. Now there was a charming alley cat who was clever enough to form schemes of his own to stop the monsters terrorizing her hometown, but smooth enough that she was having a hard time making sure her face didn’t match her supersuit. Either the boys in her life needed to be less charming, or she needed to get a boyfriend.

[noona-clock]

The Demon 👿 Zombie

Genre: Office!AU

Pairing: Jae x You

Warnings: Some Emotional Angst

Words: 2,342

Day and Night  👿 Zombie  👿 Tick Tock  👿 Love me or Leave me  👿 STOP   👿 1 to 10  👿 Afraid

Breathin’ but I’ve been dyin’ inside Nothin’ new and nothin’ feels right Deja vu so I close my eyes Let the demon sing me a lullaby

Today’s a present that I don’t want So I’m wonderin’ in this world Am I really the only one Who’s been wantin’ to hide out from the sun And run

You immediately let out a whining groan when you heard your morning alarm pierce through the air.

You knew you should be thankful you had a steady, well-paying job. You should be grateful you could keep a roof over your head and food on your table.

But, good grief, you just didn’t like it. You didn’t hate it, but you sure didn’t love it. It was a fine job. Mediocre, at best. You just had trouble mustering up any positive energy whatsoever when it came to getting up and going to work.

Once you actually got to work... Well, to be honest, it wasn’t much better. You trudged through each workday because you had to, not because you wanted to. You simply went through the motions every day, like a robot on autopilot.

You know that song that’s like “Everybody’s workin’ for the weekend’?

You were convinced that song was written about you. Friday evening was your absolute favorite thing in the entire world.

And Sunday evening was your absolute least favorite thing in the entire world.

Up until just recently, you’d been able to make it through each day, each week. It wasn’t pleasant, but you did it.

For the past few weeks, though, you’d felt the dark unhappiness creeping into your brain. It was getting more and more difficult to force yourself to get out of bed and head into the office. So much so that you were on the verge of taking some time off. It sounded more than heavenly to just be able to stay in bed and laze around all day -- hole yourself up and do anything but go to work.

When we live a life Always dreamin’ for a dream to come true So I live this life Wanting somethin’ I can’t see And something I can’t reach Or somethin’ that could not exist

To be honest, one of the only things keeping you going right now was your co-worker, Jae.

The two of you had started this job at just about the same time, so the newbie status instantly pulled you together. The fact Jae could successfully distract you with both memes and profound thoughts at the same time was what kept you together.

Whenever you needed to rant about another co-worker or a client, Jae was there. Whenever you needed to get out of the office for lunch and satisfy your craving for fast food, Jae was there. Whenever you needed to relieve boredom or waste time -- you guessed it. Jae was there.

He was basically one of the only reasons you continued working this job, and you liked to think he felt the same way about you.

After reaching over to pick up your phone and turning your alarm off, your whining groan turned into a weary sigh. Normally -- as in, before your jaded attitude about your job had set in -- you would turn off your alarm and almost immediately get out of bed. Now, however -- and especially more recently -- you found you had to scroll through your overnight notifications on your phone before you could even think about getting up.

And that’s exactly what you did today.

Your eyes scanned all of the alerts you’d received, stopping when you noticed one of them was a text message from Jae. Unsurprisingly, he’d sent it way after you’d gone to sleep, knowing you wouldn’t see it until you’d woken up this morning.

Just two more alarms for the week, dude. You got this.

You really weren’t sure why because it was literally just a text message, but... reading Jae’s words actually helped you get out of bed. Maybe it was the fact you knew someone at work was on your side, or maybe it was the fact someone else understood how difficult it could be... or maybe it was a reason you truly couldn’t understand.

Either way, you quickly typed out a reply (‘WE got this, bro!! See you soon!’) and then swung your legs over the side your bed.

I feel like I became a zombie Not alive but I’m still walkin’ When the sunrise is upon me I’ll be waitin’ for the day to pass by Oh why

I became a zombie And there’s nothing that can cure me So tomorrow I know I’ll be Just the same, you’ll see me Wishin’ to stop and close my eyes

Unfortunately, Jae’s text message only gave you enough positive energy to get through your morning routine. As soon as you stepped outside and headed toward the bus stop, you turned into the robot on autopilot again, simply going through the motions of getting to work.

You got on the bus, swiped your pass, sat down, stared out the window as it began to roll deeper into the city.

It was times like these when you found yourself zoning out entirely, thinking of everything and nothing at the same time.

Your gaze became focused on the sunrise peeking through in-between the buildings, and your mind became unfocused on just about everything. And it was usually during your morning bus ride when you felt the most like a zombie -- half-alive. Or, rather, physically alive but emotionally... not alive. Probably because you knew the day was just beginning, and you had so many hours ahead of you to get through.

You closed your eyes, tilting your head and pressing your temple to the cool glass of the window.

Just before you were going to let out a deep but silent sigh, you felt your phone vibrate inside your bag.

With a small jump, you opened your eyes, sat back up, and reached in to see what the notification was.

A small smile crept onto your lips when you saw Jae had texted you again.

B R O. I need COFFEE. Want anything?

Soy hazelnut latte maybe?

What about food? You can treat me to lunch later as a thank you.

LOL okay deal. Everything bagel plz!!!! You’re the best!!!!

You would say one thing: it was definitely easier to get through the morning with some caffeine and some food. Hopefully, you would feel more like a person after you got some breakfast in you.

Yeah this is my life Always dreamin’ for a dream to come true This meaningless life Wanting somethin’ I can’t see And something I can’t reach Or somethin’ that could not exist

No more of this I wanna cry Dried out but feel like I should cry Tell the world that I’m still here tonight Oh oh

Besides the very end of your shift, lunchtime was your favorite part of the day. You especially enjoyed it when you got to eat with Jae, and even moreso when you ate out at a restaurant -- I mean, if you classify McDonald’s as a restaurant. Which you totally did.

Since Jae had so graciously provided breakfast for you this morning, you followed up with your promise to treat him to lunch. He had announced that he was craving a McChicken sandwich, so here you were sitting in a booth at the McDonald’s across the street from the building.

And, apparently, you were sitting in the booth more listlessly than you realized because as you were swirling some fries around in your ketchup, Jae kicked you gently under the table.

“Yo, what’s up?” he asked. “You okay?”

You blinked rapidly, shifting your gaze to look at Jae across from you. “Hmm?” you hummed. “Oh, I -- have you ever felt like your life is basically meaningless?”

...Had you meant for such a profound question to come out of your mouth?

No.

But there was no taking it back now.

Jae practically choked on his McChicken, his eyes widening and his brow furrowing deeply. “Say what now?”

You shifted awkwardly in your seat before replying, “Never mind.”

“No, no, no -- meaningless? Is that how you feel? Like your life is meaningless?”

“...Kind of?”

Jae’s forehead wrinkled even more, and he leaned forward closer to you. “Dude, that’s not true at all,” he said quietly and with the most sincere tone. So sincere it almost made your heart break. “Why -- I mean, why do you...?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I just feel like... every day is a chore to get through. I’m just waking up and going to work and going home. I don’t feel like I’m actually... doing anything. And like there’s no end in sight.”

Jae let out a soft sigh and set down his sandwich before folding his arms on top of the table. “I mean... I knew you didn’t like this job, but I didn’t realize it was that bad.”

To be honest, neither had you. Not until just now. You’d known you weren’t particularly happy, but you hadn’t truly understood just how unhappy you were.

“...Yeah, I guess it is,” you murmured.

“So... find a new job.”

You automatically let out a breathless chuckle and shook your head. “Like it’s that easy.”

“Listen,” Jae began. “I don’t want you to find another job. For my own selfish reasons, I don’t want you to leave because you’re definitely my favorite part of work. But... dude, if you’re that unhappy, you have to leave.”

You didn’t answer him right away; you simply bit the inside of your cheek and gazed at your food.

“I have friends with all kinds of jobs,” he continued. “I could ask around and see if they can help. You’re smart as hell, I know there are plenty of jobs out there you would be so good at.”

His words -- and his earnest tone -- made your throat tighten with emotion and your eyes fill slightly with tears. “Really?” you choked out. “You would help me like that?”

When you finally looked up at him, you anticipated his expression to be one of ‘You’re kidding me, right? Of course, I would help you like that.’

Instead, his expression said something more like... Well, you weren’t sure what. The best way you could describe it was... shy.

“Well... yeah,” he mumbled. “I... I just want you to be happy.”

I feel like I became a zombie Not alive but I’m still walkin’ When the sunrise is upon me I’ll be waitin’ for the day to pass by Oh why

I became a zombie And there’s nothing that can cure me So tomorrow I know I’ll be Just the same you’ll see me Wishin’ to stop and close my eyes

Unfortunately, no matter how badly you wished for more time, your lunch break was only an hour long.

Jae had double-checked that you were all right before the two of you went back into your office building, and he even sent you messages here and there throughout the day -- including one informing you that he had texted all of his close friends about job openings, and he already had some good leads for you.

At this point, though, you didn’t really want to get your hopes up.

Jae typically didn’t leave at the same time as you because he preferred to finish everything he’d started that day; you were the type to leave right when the clock struck 5 and not a minute later, so unless Jae finished early for the day, the two of you never walked out of the office together.

But Jae must have finished early for the day because the two of you walked out of the office together.

As soon as you stepped out of the building, Jae nudged you gently with his elbow. “So, are you gonna quit?” he asked quietly.

“Well, not right now,” you replied. “I still need to pay my bills.”

“Yeah, but -- if one of my friends can get you an interview, will you go to it?”

“I -- I mean, I guess so!”

To be honest, you wanted to leave this job, but... change was really scary. Starting all over at a new place, getting to know new people, getting used to a new schedule? It didn’t sound inviting.

But, then again, neither did keeping on with your current situation.

“I promise,” Jae said with raised eyebrows. “I will help you get out of here.”

You had to stop walking at that.

Your brow furrowed as Jae suddenly stopped, too, turning to face you.

“...What?” he asked.

“Why are you so determined to help me find a new job?” you asked, though there was absolutely nothing accusatory about your words. You were just... curious. I mean, it’s not like you and Jae were extremely close. You were best work friends, for sure, but you hadn’t hung out a whole lot outside of work.

Again, Jae’s expression turned shy the same way it had during your lunch conversation.

“I just...” he began, but then he let out a sigh and brought one hand up to rub the bridge of his nose. 

...And then it dawned on you.

Out of the blue.

The realization hit you like a ton of bricks that you had only stayed here because of Jae.

He wasn’t just one of the reasons you could manage to keep going. One of the only things you liked about your job.

He was the only reason. The only thing.

You were so hesitant to get another job because you knew you wouldn’t get to see him everyday, and seeing him everyday was the one thing in your life that actually made you genuinely happy.

Before he could continue on with his thought, you stepped up to him. You slid your arms around his middle and circled your arms as tightly as you could and pressed your cheek to his chest.

“Whoa,” he muttered, but he didn’t leave enough time for you to start second-guessing yourself because he almost immediately returned your embrace.

“I don’t --” he mumbled. “I don’t want you to leave because not seeing you everyday would... suck. But I don’t think I can keep seeing you everyday knowing that you hate it.”

You simply shut your eyes tightly, nuzzling your cheek against the silk fabric of his tie.

“I can’t see you everyday knowing that you’re -- you’re a working zombie or something. So... please. Please say you’ll leave.”

“I will,” you murmured. Because even though Jae made you happy... it wasn’t enough. You couldn’t continue to rely on him to get you through the day; it wouldn’t be fair to either of you.

“But...” Jae added, his voice quieter and a bit more shaky. “Please say... you won’t leave me.”

Your lips curved into a wide grin at his words. He was hugging you back, yes, but you still hadn’t been certain that he felt the same way as you did right now.

But now you knew.

“I won’t,” you assured him, squeezing him even tighter.

And for the first time in a long time, you felt a glimmer of... Well, you weren’t quite sure. Hope? Happiness? Love? Or maybe just... different?

After living your life in the same way day after day, week after week, month after month... something different had happened.

So, I guess the best way to put it was for the first time in a long time, you felt that tomorrow could actually be different.

And that was all you needed.

[willow-salix]

Fluffember prompt: Feathers (vaguely, and with a dash of Rainbow)

Day 13 of Isolation on Tracy Island 2.0

“OK, who threw that pencil at me?” Scott demanded to know. No one owned up. Honestly I didn’t even see where it had come from let alone who threw it. 

“No clue,” I answered.

“I’m gonna find out,” he growled. “I could have been badly hurt!”

I sniggered to myself, for a real life action hero Scott could be so dramatic sometimes, and didn’t bother looking up from the latest copy of ‘Better Gnomes and Gardens: Witches Weekly’ that I was flicking through.

“Seriously, that could have taken my eye out, it’s like a miniature stake,” he continued to grumble.

“Talking of stakes,” I started, trying to distract him so that he didn’t go off on a ranting tangent about the danger of flying pencil projectiles, “there’s been a development with the Highgate Vampire, he’s been spotted again. Seriously, what more can this crazy year throw at us? Don’t answer that,” I warned John before he could even utter a word. I know my boy and I know that he was about to throw out some highly logical statistic or another that would make complete sense but would make me want to cry.

“Highgate Vampire?” Scott asked, distracted as I'd hoped he would be. My evil plan had worked. I turned my magazine to show him the article. “You remember, when we tried out that new ka- pub,” I corrected myself, aware of just how many of his brothers were crowded around. “We walked past the cemetery and I told you all about the legend of the Highgate Vampire.”

Scott looked blank, which is a look I’m used to seeing on him, I gotta be honest, he barely ever listens to me. “You know, I told you the story of how, back in the 1970’s a group of ghost hunters decided to try to find a vampire that supposedly lived there?”

He shook his head. 

“Self appointed bishop vampire hunter dude?” I tried again.

“Oh, yes! I remember him. He’s back?”

"Who?" 

"The Bishop."

"No, he's dead, the vampire."

"The vampire killed him?"

"The Bishop is dead of natural causes, and the vampire has been seen again," John supplied. 

“Yes," I agreed." Apparently so, and they’re blaming him for this virus outbreak.”

Everyone went quiet for a second, not sure what to say to that. John reached out a hand and I passed over the magazine so he could read it for himself. 

“Why do you read this rubbish?” he asked after perusing the rest of its offerings.

“Why wouldn’t I want to know that blue aliens brought Elvis into that lady’s garden?” I asked, genuinely perplexed.

“I don’t know how to answer that,” he told me honestly, handing the magazine back to me.

“Do you remember that time that Virgil thought he was a vampire?” Scott suddenly asked him.

“Oh, God, yes. I hadn’t thought of that in years,” John laughed.

“Wait? He what now? There were vampires involved? Why was I never told about this? This is my one area of expertise and you've been holding out on me?”

“I did not think I was a vampire,” Virgil corrected them. “Our high school math teacher did.”

I tossed the magazine aside, this was far more entertaining than anything I’d find in there.

“Spill,” I demanded.

“It’s really not that interesting a story,” Virgil insisted, trying valiantly to deflect us.

“He was a sophomore, so about fifteen years old,” Scott started, dodging out of the way when Virgil threw a pen at him this time. Scott narrowed his eyes, like he wasn’t sure if that was proof that he had been the perpetrator of the pencil or not. Virgil, for his part, looked innocent. Pen, what pen? I saw no pen? What even is a pen? Isn’t that something you put pigs in?

“And he had to have two of his back teeth out due to overcrowding,” John continued, grabbing me and yanking me onto his lap, using me as a human shield when Virgil lifted his sketch pad threateningly.

“I’m so glad I married such a brave rescuer,” I deadpanned as John continued to hide behind me. "My hero."

“I was driving him back from the dentist and he was still a little out of it from the sedation they had given him,” Scott took up the tale.

“I’m just not a big fan of the dentist, OK?” Virgil defended himself. "They have to sedate me."

“His gums were still bleeding and he’d spat the gauze out within a minute of getting out of there,” John continued, ducking back behind me when Virgil glared at him.

“They’re going to tell it anyway,” I told him, “so why don’t you do it instead?”

Virgil nodded, seeing the wiseness in my words.

“My gums were bleeding but I didn’t know what to do with it all, I didn’t want to swallow it and to be honest, I was still pretty woozy, so I just kinda let the blood collect in my mouth.”

“Aww, that must have sucked, babe, I’m sorry.”

He nodded at me in thanks for my sympathy, something he was NOT getting from his brothers.

“We stopped at some lights and by that point my mouth was getting pretty full-”

“He was drooling like Alan at nap time,” Scott butted in.

“Did you not give him a tissue or something?”

“No, he was evil.”

“I was driving and I don’t carry things like that on me as standard,” Scott argued.

“I’ll pick you up if anything like that happens again,” I promised the big guy. “For girls our cars are like an extension of our house or our handbags, there's tissues, lip balms, snacks, bottles of water, everything.”

“Thank you,” Virgil sniffed, casting Scott a smug look, knowing I was firmly on his side.

“So, how is this vampire related?” I had to ask, I mean, I was sympathetic but I was also nosey as hell.

“I wound down the window as we stopped at the light,” Virgil continued. “And I...well, I was still a bit muddled…”

“He opened his mouth and all this blood came oozing out, it just dribbled everywhere,” Scott  practically yelled, bursting out laughing.

“Why are you laughing, you evil thing?”

“Because,” John piped up from behind the shelter of my person, “the car next to Scott’s was Mrs Beddleman’s. Virgil, recognising her, breaks out into this wide, goofy and completely bloody, smile.”

“She looked absolutely horrified and even though she wasn’t going that direction she turned right to get away from us. She was a very religious lady and she took to wearing a cross to school for the rest of the year until I left her class.”

“And she moved his seat to one beside the window,” Scott howled, doubled over laughing.

I bit my lip, trying very hard not to laugh.

“It’s OK,” Virgil sighed, “you can laugh.”

“I don’t want to,” I told him as seriously as I could. “But I really don’t think I can help it.”

I made the fatal mistake then, I glanced at Scott who was at the point of silently laughing, his body shaking and I cracked.

“It’s not like I’m the only one that had bad anesthesia reactions,” Virgil said slyly and I snapped to attention.

“Are you not?” 

“Nope,” he shook his head, grinning now. “We’ve all had broken bones and hospital stays over the years.”

“Oh, oh, tell me a Scott one!”

“He had an appendectomy when he was twenty. He was taken in for day surgery and when he woke up he was completely coherent,” Virgil started.

“He was?” Knocked out Scott had to be different to sedated Scott, because sedated Scott was hilarious and very snuggly. 

“What can I say, I have a strong constitution,” Scott preened.

“He’s lying,” Virgil continued. “He was talking normally, answering questions and the doctor said he was doing great and could go. He was starving, hadn't eaten since the night before and he insisted that the only thing he would eat was Chinese food, and it had to be a buffet, nothing else would do."

"I mean, he's not wrong, there is nothing like a good Chinese," I agreed. 

"Well, it appeared that he hadn't been as recovered as we thought he was."

"What happened?" 

"I came round from the anesthesia sitting in the restaurant and as far as I knew I'd just gone under in the operating room and I'd woken up with a plate of chicken teriyaki on a stick in front of me."

John sniggered, muffling his laughter against my shoulder.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” Scott huffed. “Have you forgotten about when you had your tonsillectomy?” 

“That was not my fault,” John mumbled, clearly regretting his previous amusement.

“Oh gods, what did you do?” I asked him, turning my head to look at him over my shoulder.

“Nothing! I was just talking to the anesthesiologist.”

“The anesthesiologist was new to the hospital so hadn’t met any of us before,” Virgil started.

“Do I take it that you all had frequent user passes? Like buy ten ops and get the eleventh free?” 

“Pretty much,” Scott shrugged, unashamed of just how bad that sounded. “So John’s there, being himself, talking to the surgeon and anesthesiologist about the operation and what they were planning, how long it would take, telling them what they needed to do, that sort of thing-”

“I like to know what to expect,” John defended himself.

“Swot,” Gordon teased, coming in at the tail end of John’s mini rant, Alan trailing along behind him.

“It’s not a bad thing to want to go into a situation with full knowledge of it. Research and a game plan are only sensible. How do you expect to get good at something if you don’t know the mechanics behind it?” He glanced around at his brothers who looked less than convinced. “You know you’ve all been grateful for my expertise more than once.”

“I know I have,” I agreed, ignoring the raised eyebrows that came my way. Let them think dirty things, that was their problem. I received a small kiss to the side of my neck thanks for my support so I’m not going to complain.

“So, what were you guys talking about?” Gordon asked, flopping down on the couch beside Virgil.

“They were sharing with me their tales of woe under the effects of anesthesia and sedation,” I informed him.

“Oh, yes, we’ve all got those,” Gordon agreed. “Which one was John telling?”

“The time when he had his tonsils removed,” Scott helpfully supplied.

“I don’t remember it,” Gordon frowned.

“Neither do I,” Alan added.

“He was talking to the anesthetist, we got that far,” I said.

“He was talking to him as they were asking him to count down from a hundred,” Virgil continued.

“I only remember getting to ninety-one,” John told me.

“We were outside in the relatives room, waiting for him to be taken to recovery,” Scott took up the tale. “We had only been in there about fifteen minutes when the anesthesiologist and a nurse came out looking like they had seen a ghost.”

“Dad stepped up and demanded to know what the problem was and if John was OK,” Virgil said. “It turned out that John had been far more coherent than he remembered and hadn’t stopped counting at ninety-one.”

“He’d gotten to sixty-two but when he reached eighty-nine he’d apparently switched to fluent Japanese, and then started talking about a wakizashi, that and asking them about their day.”

“A what now?” 

“A small, fourteenth century Japanese sword,” John supplied.

“The anesthesiologist was actually Japanese and he had apparently called three of his peers in the ten minutes that John had been under to ask how it was possible that this Caucasian, american teenager was suddenly speaking in fluent Japanese under the influence or anesthesia.”

“It took Dad a good five minutes of solid laughter to finally tell them that they hadn’t broken John or damaged his brain in any way, he was actually fluent already,” Scott laughed.

“Apparently he gave them the biggest scare they had ever had in more than twenty years,” Virgil finished.

“I was obviously being considerate and had thought that it was more polite to talk to him in his own language rather than English,” John sniffed, crossing his arms around my waist. “I don’t see what the big deal was.”

“I’m just impressed that you were speaking it fluently at all,” I said, earning a gentle finger flick as punishment for ever doubting him. “I meant that I can only speak three languages fluently, English, bad English and Sarcasm, so anyone that can do anything else is just amazing to me,” I quickly defended myself.

“Sarcasm is your native tongue,” John mumbled. I ignored him.

“He’s mostly self taught too,” Scott added, showing that, despite how much time they all spend teasing each other, they are always proud of their siblings.

“I used to watch a lot of foreign films and TV shows to pick up the pronunciation and read a lot of graphic novels and translated books to learn how to read and write,” John elaborated. “It’s a very effective way to learn and I apparently have a gift for languages.”

“As well as many other things,” I added to be nice. “Any other stories I need to know?”

“When Gordon was having one of his back surgeries they told him that they had to strap him down and when he asked why they told him it was so he wouldn’t fall off the table and he said ‘It’s OK, five second rule’,” Scott told me.

“‘Cause I'm a snacc,” Gordon added with a grin. “Apparently I also woke up with a violent jolt and when I was asked if I was OK I apologised to the nurse and told her that I thought I was a shark.”

“You also started a joke with the nurse as you went under and finished it the moment you woke up with no prompting,” Virgil laughed.

I clapped enthusiastically for that one and Gordon bowed modestly.

“What about me?” Alan asked, finding the whole thing highly amusing.

“You’ve only been under once but you were hilarious in both the things you said,” John answered. “You apparently woke up screaming ‘Where are my wings?  I want my wings? You stole my feathers you jerk! You were only supposed to take my tonsils!’ and then passed right out again.”

Gordon cracked up laughing, as did everyone else including Alan.

“You then woke up again and asked how long until the anesthetic kicked in, and when the nurse told you it was all done and had actually been two hours you yelled in her face ‘WOAH, DID I JUST TIME TRAVEL?’” John finished.

“That’s so precious,” I cooed, because Alan is adorable in everything he does regardless of what it is.

“We have a lot of stories like that,” Virgil said, “we sometimes have to give pain relief or sedate someone who is freaking out and they do the weirdest stuff.” 

“They do? Is there some kind of hippocratic oath that you guys have to swear or can you tell me some?”

“No oath,”  they assured me. 

“One woman grabbed Virgil’s hand, stuck her fingers up in his sleeve, stroked his arm and said ‘You’d make a great carpet’,” Gordon told me.

“It’s not uncommon for people to feel stressed and unsure of where they are,” Scott continued, “they often wake up screaming or panicking, but we delivered one guy to the hospital who’d had a pretty nasty bang to the head and broken an arm. We were unable to calm him down so we had to sedate him so he wouldn’t do any more damage. He woke up as we were transferring him to the hospital gurney and he hopped off before we could catch him, pulled his pants down with his good arm and started to helicopter right there outside the hospital.”

That broke me, I’m sorry to say. I might proclaim to be far more mature than these idiots and not find fart jokes and the like amusing, but the mental image of this guy, standing there, twirling...I just couldn’t stop.

“One girl asked us if we were single and we didn’t answer and deflected by asking her if she had a boyfriend or girlfriend and she started crying that she just wanted a dog.”

“Remember that young boy who meowed the entire way to the hospital?” 

“And that one lady that was really nervous so we told her to think of something nice and she started singing ‘I wish you a merry Christmas,’ but it was July!”

“And the one that said she wanted us to drop her off at the top of a rainbow so she could slide down it?”

“And the guy that woke up when we landed, looked right at Kayo and said as loudly as he could ‘Look! The love of my life! Don’t leave me, I can change!’”

“And that one guy who knocked out a few teeth and spat out the gauze we packed his mouth with and started freaking out crying ‘was that my liver? Nooo, my liver! I need that! Get back in you!’”

“A woman lost a couple of teeth too and was crying about being ugly. We gave her some pain relief and she was so hazy that, when we handed her over to the doctor and gave him her teeth she started screaming at him... what was it she said, John? You heard it over the comms and were laughing so hard.”

“She yelled, ‘Charlatan! I demand you return my teeth! They are mine and I will choose how they are to be spent!’”

I cracked up at that, mostly the way John told it, which I assume was the same way she had, like a plummy Victorian aristocrat that had just been insulted.

“And that teen who said ‘hey, mister, my ass itches and I’m too high to scratch it.”

“Oh, that’s pure gold,” I laughed, wiping my eyes because I was laughing so hard.

“What about you?” Alan asked me. “Have you ever done anything weird?”

“Only every day of my life.”

“I meant under sedation.”

“Oh, yeah, not really,” I shrugged. “I know that when I had teeth out once, after napping on the couch for a few hours I suddenly sat up and announced that I needed to make Mum a cup of tea. She told me I didn’t need to but I said she was my guest and I had to be polite or she’d leave me alone to die. There was no arguing with me so I got up, went to the kitchen and came back and gave her a mug of cold water with a spoon in it. I apparently said ‘drink up, luv,’ like a really bad impression of Parker and face planted the couch and passed out again. Mum made her own tea after that.”

That got a fair few sniggers and Scott threatening to take away my British card for screwing up tea so badly.

“I have to ask,” I said conspiratorially once everyone had calmed down, “has Kayo ever done anything like this?”

They all looked around, as if scared that she might be listening, then eventually Virgil nodded.

“She came round from her knee surgery after she dislocated it and insisted on trying to get out of bed. The nurse told her she had to stay put as they had just fixed her knee and it needed time to heal. She answered in the most confident, how dare you try to stop me way and informed the nurse that she was a ninja and that they heal three times faster than normal people. The nurse let her try and she dropped face first.”

Honestly, out of all the stories I’ve heard today, that one was the best. It’s nice to know that even the most capable and sometimes terrifying of us isn’t always perfect.

[papers4me]

Fruits Basket, SE02, Ep25 (Season Finale)

ah~ I finished furuba’s Season 2..T_T.. now my life is empty..that’s a good ep!

- A moment with yuki:

I think there’s sth I still don’t understand abt yuki’s tohru-mom feelings...I thought that yuki after acknowledging such feelings, will slowly build a healthier, more equal relationship with tohru  & the only reason he didn’t tell her is cuz he wants her to be ready & not worry. So today, it makes sense that he comes & tells tohru he stood up for himself & was scared but made it! he’s proud of himself & tohru should be proud of him, too. Also, it helps tohru let go of worrying abt him & realize his growth. All amazing!!! However, the scene was depicted in a way that screams, “look mommy, I’ did it!” rather than a friend reaching out & proudly telling a friend. it really cemented the mom-son dynamics. I felt “awe look at him proudly telling his mom” sth I thought, we’ll be slowly moving away from towards more equal dynamics. Yuki was drawn extra thin & he was leaning as if he was waiting for a head pat. Nothing is wrong with yuki wanting motherly feels since he never got one but i felt nothing changed between them. yuki still below tohru. I mean he’ll never be able to repay her kindness. true. but I thought the story will let us see him standing taller bit by bit, y’know? I know he still calls her honda-san & perhaps him finally calling her “tohru” is when they’re equal..but shouldn’t he move slowly towards that? rather than suddenly coming & thanking her for being his much needed mother figure? why is this scene depicted with extremely strong mother-son feel? could it be cuz yuki is still putting tohru in a pedestal? he told momiji “did u do sth worthy of honda-san’s praise” as if tohru isn’t the person who praises momiji for a cute uniform or kyo for making a standard riceball. hmm, maybe yuki can’t be equal to her if he still sees her as the sky or an angel or someone who desperately needs protection. tohru is precious to him & he’ll protect her with his life, but I thought he’ll do so as a friend, not as a son. Maybe SE03 is abt him learning to see tohru as a normal, lacking but still amazing person? I’d love to see that!!

- Shigure ( the main character ):

It’s always forgotten that this goofy, good for nuthin dude is a main character. But once he turns dark & reveals his face, no doubt that this guy is the plot’s leader! Shigure doesn't do lengthy inner monologues, nor his actions are easy to read. Mayuko is right “ he is like a ripple in the water” .The stages of shigues’s emotions:

Bitter: “why not let yuki take responsibility & tend for akito?” mocking akito’s bedridden status over yuki’s defiance. “ why u ask abt tohru in the phone?” & proceeds to mock kureno for calling. Tohru would never answer the phone first. “ you’re featherbrained” cruelly mocking him using a pun on his zodiac while suspecting he isn’t one anymore. Only shigure is capable of such salt!

Silent Anger: looking at akito as she rants abt him not coming to her first! not choosing her first. while she’s the one who didn’t choose him. “you’re one to talk” Epic!! “ what do you want from her?” shigure had no right intruding on kureno’s business with tohru. but he’s too angry to behave. Kureno answers like a good boy.

Refusing to play blind: hatori looking for excuses for akito’s behavior within the curse’s lore. Shigure fires back with “haven’t u ever felt sth off with kureno?”. They all did. “ Ah~at long at last” not even waiting for kureno to say first.

Sticking his finger in open wounds: “don’t accept it?scared? sad? emotionally attached to the bond?” Verdict: “devious” he’s calling out  hatori & kureno both!

Embracing himself with no regrets: “ weak, intolerant, worthless, worst kind of man”. He embodies his own description of himself as he talks to kureno over the phone & sends tohru. “ see you later” only the worst kind of man uses tohru like that. sending her with no clue to an emotional shock. He wants the situation to escalates. He’ll use tohru if he have to. Let’s see if kureno’s “kindness” spares tohru the pain or if it tears her heart apart as it has been tearing everybody, kureno induced!

-Akito’s manipulating tactics start to backfire:

“ I speak cruelly of you, You know I don’t say it out of spite” very typical sentence abusers say to further their grasp around others. Insult them cruelly, then play the kind apologetic card. It makes the other person linger longer. “X didn’t meant it. X actually cares. X just lost control”. It happens in domestic abuse cases all the time.. it never changes..it never stops. Akito knows when she’s loosing her grip on someone. she feels it. Her ego doesnt let her acknowledge it. However, seeing akito’s innocent young self humanized her so much. She wasn’t despicable since birth as we’ve seen in yuki’s flashback, but here she was even more innocent than with yuki. Could it be cuz it’s from kureno’s perspective? someone older than her? or she treated older male zodiacs differently. Akito knew kureno’s curse broke as he himself did. hmm. it’s the bond, so the ruler does have a connection with the zodiacs. Akito fearing kureno’s abandonment is understandable. Akito using tears, screams, pleads & frantic behavior, “so typical of spoiled children” to get kureno to stay. It is a working tactic. A tactic that abusive adults use in toxic relationships so much & works to trap the other party to stay. Stay with me cuz you pity me, yes, but I’m the one on control. Keeping in mind akito’s age here, she looks 6? 10 maximum! is really twisted. Akito learned early one that manipulation works. She gets what she wants by playing games, whether it’s tears, pity, rage, ridicule, mockery, bets, humiliation, or sexual seduction. It reinforces her behavior that nothing can stand between her & her desires. curse or no curse. If she can keep a  non-cursed person, then the cursed ones are way weaker to leave. This, off course doesn’t justify her abusive behavior with yuki/ kyo/ momiji/ kisa/ rin/ haru/ hatori but today, we got a small window open into her psyche. The best “antagonist” is someone with irrational behavior that stems from twisted mindset! She is so interesting!

-Kureno & ( the most destructive foolish traveler):

So, kureno stayed with akito cuz he can’t turn a sad, lonely, fragile child away. Can’t bear to break her heart. The child became a woman. The woman needed him in bed, he can’t turn a sad lonely woman away. He gave in & their relationship became even more twisted with the complexity of intimacy issues. Kureno said “ arisa is the first person he ever loved on his own”. meaning that he slept with akito using the remaining feelings of attachment of his previous bond. EXACTLY as shigure said while questioning hatori’s refusal to believe the curse can break“ emotionally attached to the bond”. He continued this unbalanced sexual affair with her. completely submissive to her moods & whims. Unbalanced relationship cuz both stayed together for twisted reasons “unable to let go”, She has control over him since she’s the family head, over even his freedom outside the house, He is willingly submissive to her, choosing to not seek his happiness,  not standing up & denying her, or stopping her or telling her sth as simple as “ i want to go out to the supermarket”. content & satisfied with his dull, lifeless life. Until akito “ the sad child/ the sad woman doesn’t need him anymore??? but kureno can see that him staying by akito’s side didn’t do shit to improve anybody’s situation!!! Akito is still miserable! even before tohru appears in their lives. all the zodiacs were miserable & united in a toxic fake bond. The bond is so fake that all this time there was a fake imposter & no one dared to question. They’re so accustomed to submissive obedience that they don’t dare to hope. Only shigure. The intolerant jerk saw through it all.

-Kureno is a different kind of foolish traveler. He helped no one. Not even the person he gave his eyes to, Akito didn’t benefit from his kindness. He didn’t benefit, nor arisa, nor any zodiac. What kureno’s kindness brought him is misery. What it brought the sohma’s is enabling abuse & continuation of current toxic atmosphere. He is a more sever enabler than hatori. Hatori enabled the continuation of the curse by erasing memories & staying by akito’s bed tending for her with no life of his own. But hatori knows he’s a sinner & hatori is still chained by the bond. Kureno is free to leave. Yet, he’s still here deceiving everybody & suffering alone while pretending to be content with fake smile. Was Kureno raised to always follow orders? No personality. No needs. Still, he decides to continue even after given a chance to leave now!!!! he lost the first chance due to a promise he made while he was afraid, lonely & felt pity. Now, he knows someone there loves him (arisa), he has a new friend (tohru), someone flat out told him to freakin leave (shigure). Still, he feels that causing akito to break down & cry is cruel. The most passive character in the shows I’ve watched!! Kuteno is another proof of this brilliant writer! there are many kureno’s around us. hurting themselves & others by staying in the cycle of abuse. The writer is really brilliant for writing such variety of characters. Who cares if fans find him appealing or not? hot or dull? good or bad? that’s not the issue here. He fits the plot so amazingly & realistically represents real life ppl who are caught between causing immense harm & being severely harmed, between helping & ruining! Kureno just closed his own caged tight shut behind him. so foolish, so tragic!

Side Notes:

Momiji pulling tohru to his level to tell her abt his achievement is cute! I was told he’s supposed to be taller than tohru now! can’t wait to see that!

Momiji’s been dressing more mature for a while, such as the violin ep, ep24 & now. All three tops while still having so much decorations, a hint of feminine designs are still in tune with momiji’s funky spirit! Also they are NOT toddler-like clothes! at all. I’m convinced it is done on purpose!! baby is growing!

I love dark shigure!! OMG! the story take a whole other level once he turns dark & turns off the goofy mode, activating the bitter mode! He was raw with no mercy & unveiled hatori’s hidden feelings with no hesitation. He tore kureno like a vicious dog! I LOVE.

Akito’s Japaneses VA is queen! & shigure’s Japaneses VA is so amazing!! can’t wait for his American VA!!! he’s one of my faves!

the bond breaking visuals are perfect! 10/10. No words needed.

tohru does have a women’s intuition! She is the most emotionally intelligent & socially perceptive character in furuba, just as long as it’s not abt herself. XD

tohru had a flashback within a flashback! lol. flashback inception!

they gave tohru a lil bit bigger boobies than usual!! my girl is maturing, too? =D

The scene of kureno & akito’s innocent childhood & the curse lifting being cut & inserted all over the ep is EPIC!! 10/10 presentation. It gave the ep eerie & distorted feel. Exactly as both kureno & akito felt. 

The scenes of tohru realizing sth is off with kureno’s curse is 10/10.

“ how did the curse break?” tohru’s first question! wow! I thought it was good for you, I’m happy, then ask afterwards. But NO. Interesting!!!!

I love that there is NO explanation of why the curse broke!!! I hope there is NEVER any explanation!! plz don’t let it be sth magical kureno did without noticing or anything. Let it either be random to keep the suspense as we wouldn’t know who’s is next or let be sth abt the bond somehow. But not sth tohru herself needs to do!

I still don’t understand kureno much, but I find him well-written for the reasons mentioned in my post. As for akito, I still don’t know much abt her. I doubt I’ll like her easily. But I can feel that her part in the story would be so amazingly entertaining!!

Shigure is the most unique furuba character hands down!!!!! this unbelievably entertaining jerk! is hot too.

[mor-beck-more-problems]

The Two Fingers of Death || Morgan & Gabriel

TIMING: Current

PARTIES: @bugbearnecessities & @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Gabriel needs a snack and tries out a new scare in the English department offices, to unexpected results.

CONTAINS: slight zombie body horror

“I can't believe that bitch flunked me!”

Gabriel was not supposed to be in the ladies room, and he honestly felt bad about it. Normally he did his best to respect people's boundaries, especially those involving very intimate ceremonies like make-up fixing, gossip sharing and any other mysterious ritual that normally went on in the ladies' bathroom. But he had no choice, really: it'd been far too long since his last feeding, and between that and his natural instinct to just nap the winter away, his energy level was dangerously low, so he needed a little pick me up, ASAP.

And the ladies' room, he'd found, was the best place to get a quick fix: Gabriel only needed to hide in one of the stalls, conjure up the illusion of a giant spider and BAM. Instant snack, with high-pitched shrills on the side. But not this time, apparently. No, this time the two girls washing their faces were too focused on their angry rant against Professor Beck to pay his fake Charlotte any mind, not even when he made the spider dance. The girls sounded so genuinely pissed that for a moment Gabe forgot all about his hunger and just listened intently. Apparently Professor Beck hadn't been particularly impressed with Jessica's essay about The Tell-tale Heart, and frankly Gabriel hated the idea that Jessica could be turned off that masterpiece forever just because of a misunderstanding with her teacher. And truth be told, he was looking for a decent meal... Professor Beck was no murderer, but ruining Poe for young minds all over campus was two steps away from a federal offense, as far as he was concerned.

With that thought in mind, Gabriel waited for the two girls to go away and then he left the bathroom. A quick internet search later, he made his way to the professor's office, knowing that she'd probably be inside. He stood in the hallway in front of her door for a few minutes, waiting for the perfect moment and then, when no one else was in sight, he bent down to spy from the keyhole and focused intently, projecting his magic inside the professor's office.

Morgan cherished her office hours no matter what: if any of her students got over their anxiety enough to come visit, she had a chance to get to know them and put in enough help and suggestions to make whatever homework they turned in after more interesting; if they didn’t, she had some time alone to get her work done,  have fewer things to take home, and listen to some her playlists that didn’t get as much airtime around the house. Today was the latter, and Morgan’s only concern was making sure she didn’t write down the lyrics to “Ivy” while she was trying to respond to her students’ questionnaires. There’s no shame in liking Twilight, she wrote, Looking forward to seeing what your thoughts will be when we get to Carmilla! She got through a few more like this, singing along under her breath since the Medievalist Bros were out doing stars only knew what. Her timer went off. Morgan jolted from the switch between Taylor Swift to the X-Files theme, hard enough that one of her earbuds fell out and rattled to the far side of her desk. Morgan chased it with her hand, only then noticing the bright, bleeding heart on her desk.

She yelped with surprise and scanned the room. “Hello? Is this, uh...for me?” Morgan hadn’t seen anyone come in with a special delivery. But then again, whoever had been tasked with it might’ve been too grossed out to ask questions or stick around. Deirdre was usually more discreet than this when she sent presents over, but sometimes she used her promise binding powers to be a little dramatic. Morgan laughed fondly, remembering a small candy box of eyeballs. “Babe, you shouldn’t have…” she sighed, and reached for the snack, which called to her the same way chocolate cake had when she was alive. Morgan reached and--nothing.

Morgan couldn’t stifle her whine of disappointment, but now there were more pressing problems. “Okay,” she called, louder this time and mildly irritated. “Now I know you’re hiding. Come on out!”

Gabriel had to stifle a villainous chuckle (or, well, the closest thing to a villainous chuckle he could muster) as he waited impatiently for the screaming and the flood of energy that'd follow. Alright, maybe a still beating heart was a bit much, but hey, she was a Lit professor, she had to appreciate the poetic justice in that, right? In any case he'd make it up to her somehow, anyone who listened to the X-Files theme couldn't be so bad after all, and...

Gabriel frowned. There was no screaming, no delicious fear. Why was there no fear, the woman had a freaking human heart on her desk! Granted, hearts were fascinating, Gabriel couldn't wait for the embalming classes to start just so he could maybe see one up close, but most people were at least a little squeamish about them. Was Professor Beck actually... Something else? Blood-thirsty murderer? No, it couldn't be: she'd also been listening to TSwift, and most comments he'd read about her on ratemyprofessors.com actually depicted her as a sweet, caring person. Then again, wasn't that what neighbors always said about serial killers? I never thought he'd be capable of something like that, he was always so nice...

The theory was starting to look more promising as Gabriel watched through the keyhole. She was trying to grab the heart, holy crap! And when her hand just passed through the illusion she looked... Disappointed? Gabriel was so confused that it took him a few moments to realize she'd called out to someone, to him. He hesitated. Should he just go away? That would be the wisest course of action, for sure. But then again, if Professor Beck was a serial killer wasn't it his duty to expose her? He, unlike most people, had the means to defend himself against a crazy murderer, after all. And also he was still so hungry. His mind made up, Gabriel took a deep breath and opened her door, his steps far more boisterous than he actually felt.

“I wasn't hiding!” Gabriel mentally slapped himself. Of all the things he could have said, that was going to be his first line to the very first potential serial killer he'd ever met? Lame. And then he added “Dude, you do realize that's a human organ, right? Like, from an actual person. With a hole in their chest. And it's bleeding all over your papers. Doesn't that... Scare you? Please be a little scared, please.” Even just slightly grossed out. And then he realized what he'd just said. “Uh, I mean... That's a human heart, professor.” Hunger was no excuse to ignore someone's academic accomplishments, not even those of a serial killer.

The door opened and Morgan reached for her bag. Salt, knife, iron, they were all still in there, even if she didn’t want to use them. A dozen different possibilities flickered past her head. Was this a trap? A hunter trap? Some magic critter she’d never heard of? Morgan was alone, and if it hadn’t been for her earbud falling out, she might not have heard anyone come in. This world was cruel and bloody and maybe she was an idiot after all for setting aside her combat training---But then the door opened a little wider and there was just a kid. A college kid, twenty-one at most. Not one of hers, although he did have that awkward intellectual vibe that her more enthusiastic boys held. But he didn’t flaunt that archetype like them, he hadn’t finished growing into himself yet. He wore his presence like a suit that hadn’t been tailored yet, a little oversized in some places and a little too tight in others. But maybe he was just flustered, and she was reading too much to give her mind something to do while she came down from the surprise. Morgan looked from him to the phony heart and back again. Scared?

“Uhhh…”

Granted, most people probably would. The Medievalist Bros absolutely would, even though they loved to posture about how ‘sick’ some of their favorite comic books were when it came to gore. But this was White Crest, people were weird, everything was weird. Please be a little scared, please. And it was only then that Morgan remembered the last time she had been startled by illusion magic: in her family’s old haunted house, the day she’d met Nora.

“It’s...so gross. Nasty, ooey, gooey, gross...thing! Aaaah!” Morgan eyed the boy as she tried to scream. But her heart wasn’t in the charade, she was too focused on the idea of there being another Nora in White Crest and what it was about her that made her seem so yummy to them. Sighing, Morgan deflated. “I’m sorry. I actually kind of…like this stuff.” Especially for dessert. “And it’s actually pretty good looking! More true to life than most movies. Actually, I was too caught up in the visual to know it was pulsing, but that is a really great touch. And um….” Oh, stars, he didn’t think she was being patronizing, did he? He was so young, and she didn’t want to crush his confidence. “Look, it’s not you. Really. Anyone more a...well, anyone different from me in this office and you would’ve really had something. And I’m not just saying that! But, if we’re going to be coming clean about our respective supernatural secrets, you should probably come inside and close the door.”

Gabriel appreciated the effort, truly, but Professor Beck's fake groans were doing nothing to quench his thirst for some genuine shivers. And in truth her act could even get him in trouble: someone might pass by, hear a teacher scream (albeit unconvincingly) and think he was attacking her or something. Which he was, technically, but not in a 'this might get you expelled' sort of way. So even though he was still more than a little disappointed his illusion hadn't sorted the desired effect, Gabe let out a sigh of relief when she apologized. And then, listening to her following words, he actually perked up, a tiny smile tentatively making its way on his face. “You really thought it was realistic? It's kinda tricky to really shape them from behind the door, and I focused really hard to get the rhythm right, but I figured it'd be like, uh... Shakespeare! Mess up the beat and the Bard is just not the same, right? Rhythm's important, so...” Gabriel's voice waned as he looked past the warm fuzzy feeling only a straight-A student could get from a teacher's praise and he finally realized exactly what she had said.

Slowly Gabriel took a couple of steps into the office and closed the door behind him, one hand awkwardly flying to rub his neck. “Wait. Respective supernatural secrets?” Wait, not the right word to stress. “Err, I mean- Supernatural secrets? I don't know what you're...” He didn't finish the sentence, he realized no one, lest of all Professor Beck, would ever buy it. Note to self: learn to come up with a decent lie when put on the spot. “Nevermind.” Gabriel blinked, once twice, three times as he felt the awkwardness of that pause weight on him like a heavy blanket. He drew little circles on the floor with the tip of his foot, unable to meet Professor Beck's gaze as he quickly added “Sorry. About the heart. I know you said you liked it -which we're totally gonna go back to eventually by the way... But, uh... Sorry about the intention behind the heart, I guess. I just...” His stomach chose right that moment to rumble loudly. “I'm really hungry.”

Morgan waited until the boy had closed the door and they were well and truly alone. She ached for her magic and good old fashioned silencing charms. Whatever confusion and discomfort she’d had around his trick was gone. He was too clumsy and good-natured for his own hunt. If she had been a hunter or some kind of heartless caster, he might be in a lot more trouble, and he put so much thought into his magic, he was so...eager. Morgan couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen a young supernatural so positively engaged with their power and identity. She struggled not to smile as she said, “First of all, you really need to have your cover story in place before you do anything that might make a normie ask questions. You never know who’s going to turn out to be a hunter or an alarmist. You and I are fine, and I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but that may not always be the case.” She gestured for him to sit and reached into her bag for her pyrex, which had her brain stash, and her knife.

“Secondly, yes. The animal hearts I’ve seen are a little more purple-y, than that but not by much, and your average normie is definitely not going to notice any difference. And the texture of the blood? Amazing. We can and will circle back and it probably won’t take long because thirdly…” She eyed him warily. If anyone was going to not be terrified of what she was, it would be this kid, right? Nora hadn’t minded any, and whoever this boy was, he had her kind of fear magic. He thought bleeding hearts were cool, so maybe a whole zombie body might be something to feel excited about. Or at least...not something to flee in panic over. “Thirdly, first rule of supernatural club is you don’t talk about other people’s powers or species or whatever else without asking them. So I’m keeping this snack attack between you and me--well, I’ll tell my girlfriend, but I’ll leave anything specific to you out of it--and you’ll do the same for me. I uh, can’t help your food front, yet, but I can show you something about me that you might find….” Cool? “...Interesting.”

Morgan couldn’t help it; she smiled, she hoped. “How are you with real-life body horror? And how much would you like to see a real zombie…?”

Gabriel's fingers had a little spasm, desperate for a pen and a notepad. It was an automatic response, atavistic almost: when a teacher spoke, you took notes, and you listened and you learned. And man, was class fascinating today! Gabriel nodded, although part of him was so desperate to tell Professor Beck she didn't need to worry: he could become a 10 feet bundle of muscles and claws, he could defend himself. Then he remembered all those times his roommate had managed to draw penises on his face while he was snoring, and he realized that even an 800 lbs monster, when asleep, could easily be poisoned, suffocated, paralyzed... “Cover story is important, got it.”

As Professor Beck described the ideal heart, Gabriel tried to summon up a good image of it, but the result was somehow worse than the first one: less tangible, the heart illusion floated behind the professor, ghastly and practically see-through, such a pathetic attempt that he made it disappear without even showing the Professor. Gabriel frowned: why couldn't he do it anymore? Was it because he was running out of energy and needed a good scare? Or maybe it was because now he knew the Professor wasn't afraid of hearts, so his illusions would no longer be able to summon a heart for her? He would ask mami later, Gabe promised to himself: she was no bugbear, but with his father still doing his disappearing act she was the only one that had been able to give him any sort of info about those things. Until now.

“So basically supernatural powers or species is sort of like...” Gabriel paused, looked for the right metaphor, and then he perked up again. “S&M! Nothing inherently wrong with it, but some people don't really get or understand it so you gotta respect someone's choice to keep it on the DL.” Immediately he paled. Had he really just said that? To a professor? “Not that I know anything about S&M! I mean, that's not the point, the point is... Respect people's privacy, got it. I won't tell anyone about you, I swear.” Once again, Gabriel nodded solemnly, hoping that his awkwardness wouldn't make her doubt his sincerity as he raised his right hand up and made that promise, an oath he fully intended to keep.

Luckily for Gabriel, Professor Beck's next question brought the conversation back to a topic that was far more comfortable to him. “Body horror? Puh-lease! I'm majoring in Mortuary Science and yesterday I fell asleep watching The Hills Have Eyes... think I can handle some gor- Woah, wait, back up...” While during the rest of the conversation Gabriel's eyes had darted around the room, dancing between captive attention and awkward embarrassment , now they landed solely on the Professor, rudely staring. Normally Gabriel would have apologized about that, but all he could focus on right then was...“Did you just say... Zombie?” If the giant grin and wide-eyed excitement on his face didn't answer her doubts, the excited twitching probably would.

Morgan snorted with laughter at the boy’s comparison. More people knew about her species than the particulars of how she and her girlfriend frequently enjoyed sex together, and she didn’t know of anyone who was maimed for having a ball gag in their purse, but he was on the right track. “Oh, of course you don’t, totally just stuff you’ve heard around the dorms, strictly abstract, intellectual curiosity.” Her smile was knowing as she waved away the subject. There were a lot of things she was willing to speak to that other professors weren’t, but this wasn’t one of them.

The boy had put her so much at ease with his enthusiasm, she almost forgot to warn him. “What’s your name, by the way? This feels like a weird thing to demonstrate to just some kid in my office. But, anyway, brace yourself.” Morgan’s words were for herself too. It had been a while since she’d shown anyone this particular part of herself on purpose. She reached for the knife on her desk and raised it over her hand. She closed her eyes and imagined she was chopping carrots as she brought it down swiftly over her fingers.

There was a bite of pain, enough to make her whimper, but there were no tears, and by the time she opened her eyes and scooped up the two severed fingers to give to the boy, fresh white bone had sprouted from the sockets and red muscle and purple sinew were braiding themselves over it. The severed fingers did not bleed, per se, but dripped a few globs of black blood where they had been cut, but only when squeezed, like tube of toothpaste. “These’ll keep for about a day or two, if you want to stick them somewhere for somebody to find,” she said. “After that, they turn to goo.”

“Gabriel Rivera. Swear on mami's snake, I usually introduce myself before sharing secrets, but in my defense... Zombie.” There was still a hint of amazed incredulity in that last word, but any lingering doubt he may still have was quickly cut down with that swing of the Professor's knife. No matter how comfortable as Gabriel was watching gory movies or even studying the theory of preserving corpses, he still flinched out of concern for Professor Beck more than squeamishness. It was just a moment, and then he was back to enthusiastic curiosity. Without hesitation he grabbed the fingers and held them close to his face, squeezing a little and even sniffing them. He stopped short of tasting the dark blood and, after a few moments of enraptured studying, he looked up at the Professor again. “Did it hurt? Are you okay? Will they grow back?” She seemed pretty unfazed by the fact someone else was holding bits and pieces of her, though, so the questions continued rapidly, before she could answer. “Have you ever tried preserving them? I could stea- Borrow some embalming fluid from the lab and... Wait, is that offensive? Asking if I can keep your finger in a jar must be rude, I'm sorry. But just... Look at 'em!”

Gabriel traced the tip of her fingers with morbid fascination before closing his whole hand around them, like protecting some precious treasure. The Professor's words registered a second later. “Stick them somewhere for somebody? Wait, so you're saying you're not going to tell me I shouldn't scare people?” Not that he wanted to scare anyone, really, he just had to, as the waves of exhaustion made themselves known again. “Because I get it, it's not exactly nice. And, uh, I'd totally understand if you were upset about the heart or if, at the very least, you wanted me to just... Not scare people on campus. And I can totally do that, no feeding on school grounds is a reasonable rule! But since we're being so open I'll be honest.” Gabriel paused, a hint of guilt tinging his next words. “If you let me keep these I definitely will hide them somewhere. Pretty soon, too. And then I'll feed from whoever finds them. Kinda hoping it'll be Baker, since he's kind of an assh- A jerk. And then, after he runs away terrified and I'm no longer hungry I'll swoop in and retrieve them because I don't want the cops to close down the school to investigate your fingers. No need for a cover story if no one is the wisest, right?” Truth be told, Gabriel was proud of himself: between the pangs of hunger and the excitement of the Professor's revelations he thought it quite impressive that he'd managed to think ahead like that. Apparently moms with babies under cars had adrenaline bursts, teacher's pets trying to impress their new favorite Professor had bright ideas. “So, uh, if you want Baker to not see a severed finger maybe just...” It visibly pained him to finish that sentence and offer the fingers back, but he still did. “...Take 'em.”

“Yes, Gabriel, it hurt,” Morgan admitted, “But not to the same degree it would hurt you. And--” She waggled her hand in front of him. All the muscle had regrown on her once severed fingers and fresh skin was slowly growing from the knuckles upwards. “I’m fine. No need or interest in preservation. I can regrow anything but my head, which is great, because I can’t begin to tell you how many times my feet have been eaten by hungry critters here.” She determinedly kept up her blasé attitude, because at least this time she was in charge of what happened to her body. She didn’t need to feel like food or remember that to some creatures, even some people, she was only a thing. This was different. At least she and Gabriel were the same, and he understood the distinction between who she was and what she could do.

Satisfied, Morgan opened her pyrex and popped a brain meatball into her mouth, swirling it in some eyeball puree first. It would speed the re-growing process along and get the taste of fresh heart out of her head. “I should probably mention, the reason I wasn’t scared was because I kind of eat dead organs for dessert. Not really nutritious, but neither are candy bars, and that’s never stopped humans before. It’s like that.” She waved away Gabriel’s hand as he ate, insisting he keep the rather unconventional gift she’d handed him. “Oh, stars, what do you think I am? You’re, what, nineteen, maybe twenty? You’re a college kid, you need to eat! Granted, on campus is a big risk. But I understand that you need this.” And this gave her an idea. She scarfed down the rest of her food and ducked her head out of the office door. No one around, but there were some murmurs from the lower floors. Another class period had ended, and the Medievalist Bros’ lunch break was probably ending soon.

Morgan turned back to Gabriel, brow arched with a friendly challenge. “How do you feel about sticking a zombie finger inside a candy bar wrapper and telling a TA who still needs to respect women more that it came from a secret admirer?” She asked. “This will be easier if you have cash, but I don’t think my snack was so big that I can’t bust through some glass for a good cause. You can still save the other one for Baker. Also, side note, I really respect how fast you learn. But whatever you’re comfortable with, you should decide quickly, because my guess is we’ve got about five minutes to pull this off.”

Zombies were fascinating. Gabriel briefly wondered if there were any zombies working on movie sets, donating their limbs to get that perfect decomposing tint on the thousands of severed hands flying around during movies with a chainsaw-wielding maniac as the main character. Gabriel tried to listen to all the cool facts Professor Beck was spouting, but honestly it was hard for him not to get sidetracked by the gross, slopping noise of brains and smushed eyeballs being chewed. Not that it grossed Gabe out: he was actually memorizing it for his Scare Bank. “I'm 20,” He answered almost distractedly, with a small chuckle. “I only look younger thanks to my healthy diet.” Part of him was dying to ask about her diet: if organ snacks didn't cut it then what? Was the brain myth accurate? How come she was so present, so alert and aware? She moved like a living person, talked like one as well... Had she not claimed the title for herself Gabriel would have never guessed she was a zombie, not even after seeing her gulp down raw mashed livers. But something told him that was not a first meeting question, and the last thing he wanted was to upset the professor, so he kept those questions to himself. For now.

Gabriel's grin grew into a mischievous smirk as he listened to the Professor's plan. “Say no more, misogynistic dic- douchebags are my favorite meal! And it'll be the best two bucks I ever spent!” Acquiring the snack was easy, just a quick trip to the closest vending machine and back to her office, bless consumerism. Unwrapping the snack without tearing the plastic apart was a little bit trickier, but Gabriel was not going to ask the Professor to help, not after what she'd already done for him. Gabriel had finally managed to put one of the fingers inside the colorful wrapping. Not perfect, but hopefully the TA wouldn't notice. “Ready to go, just point me in that guy's direction and watch the magic happen.” He sounded more confident than he actually felt, but this time Gabriel's usual self-doubting and insecurities weren't enough to sully his excitement. “Also, do you want the candy? I'm not sure if you even can eat it. For all I know it's poisonous for you, like chocolate for dogs, and I definitely don't want to poison you.” The wrapped fingers almost fell as Gabe flailed and rushedly added “Not that I'm comparing you to a dog!!! And even if I did, hello, bear here! But, uh, what I mean is... You've been great, and I kinda feel like I owe you, so if you want candy it's all yours.” Another long pause. “Speaking of how great you've been, is this... Common for you? The whole reveal thing? Because it's a skill that might come in handy one day, really so I was wondering if I could maybe... Ask for your advice every now and then. Office hours only, of course!”

Morgan grinned, ducked her head out of the office door to listen. “Even better than that,” she whispered. She grabbed one of the spare chairs and tucked it near her own. “Have a seat here, and uh…” She grabbed one of the books stacked around her work and put it in front of Gabriel. “Look busy, or borrow it to read, if you want, I’ve got way more copies than I should really have.” She huddled near him. “The guy in question might be one of the people I share this office space with, so you can probably watch your handiwork play out if you really want. But, this is your scare, so you can do all the talking. Also, you can keep the candy. It’s not toxic, but it also doesn’t taste like much of anything to me.” She shrugged.

The TAs had made it to the hallway, making plans on how they were going to humiliate the competition on their next co-op game and how they were going to bribe the Anthro Babe into going out with Jeryn.

Morgan rushed herself, whispering rapid-fire, “And uh, about the reveals, I’ve only been dead nine months and I was a little depressed and graceless when I talked to my friends about it. I’ve been trying to work on it more recently, but you’re the first person I’ve told this month who didn’t feel the need to immediately run away. And I only made them check for my non-existent pulse.” She shrugged haplessly. “But, hey! Being dead is really different than eating fear. Maybe--”

Jeryn and his tweed wearing bros burst through the door.

“Maybe you should spend a little more time developing this post-colonial theory you’ve got!” Morgan turned to the TA’s, smiling sweetly. “Gentlemen. Nice to see you back.”

The shyest of the bunch flinched back, still traumatized from the time Morgan had threatened him with bloody murder. But Jeryn, the newest recruit to the program, was unphased. “Good day to you too, my lady. No girlfriend today? I came back early just to see you two.”

Morgan bit back her retort. Whatever she had to say wasn’t going to be nearly as satisfying as what Gabriel was going to do.

Gabriel sat down with his eyes glued to the book, but his mind was busy wrapping around Professor Beck's words. I've only been dead nine months. What do you say to something like that? The Grief Counseling classes included in his major often discussed how to talk to the family members of the deceased, the proper way to offer your condolences while keeping the professional detachment needed to help them through the trying process of accepting a loss, and yet Gabe had no clue regarding the proper etiquette to adress someone who had died. Luckily the door opened and spared him the awkwardness of replying.

When the TAs entered Gabriel was reminded of his high school's football team, only with tweed instead of letter jackets. Any hint of guilt he might have had at the fact he was about to scare, maybe even traumatize a young man was dissipated the moment Jeryn opened his mouth. Gabriel didn't need to look at the professor to recognize the target.

“Wait, it's you!” Gabriel did his best to sound surprised and annoyed at the same time as he stood up and approached Jaryn. “I thought Linda was making stuff up, but man you are something! Linda Blair, you know her?” Jaryn blinked. “The name sounds familiar, but I can't quite pla-” Gabe interrupted him. “She's been auditing your classes and just won't shut up about you, says her fingers literally fell off from refreshing your Facebook page.” As he spoke, Gabriel pretended to dig through his pocket for something, and after a few moments he produced the fake snack. “When I told her I had an appointment with Professor Beck she basically begged me to give you this. Think she wrote her number on it or something. Apparently the way you treated her made her feel things she just can't ignore, and she just has to meet you... Women, am I right?” The wink he offered Jaryn made him feel dirty inside, but it was for a good cause.

Everything on Jaryn's face seemed to scream 'Is she hot?' and sensing his reluctance Gabriel retreated his hand and started to tear the wrapper, raising it to his mouth as if to take a bite. It took all his effort not to gag as putrescine and cadaverine (They were decomposing already? So cool) assaulted his nose, but somehow Gabriel managed to keep his poker face on as he said “Hey, don't worry, you don't have to accept! I mean, honestly I was thinking about asking her out myself, so I was kinda hoping you wouldn't be here, I can tell her I-” Jaryn basically ripped the 'candybar' away from Gabe. “No need, kid. It'd be rude to refuse a thoughtful gift from... What was her name again?”

“Look inside...”

The female voice echoed through the office, repeating the name over and over, punctuating it with the occasional forlorn sigh. Gabriel's eyes were closed as he channeled his energy into the magic. “What the...?!” Jaryn and the other TAs looked around, tense. The more their panic grew, the easier it was for him to add whistles and bells to the trick. “Look what you did to me...” Jaryn turned to stare at the Professor, confusion and nervousness painted all over his pale face. “What's the meaning of this, Profe-” The door slammed shut. Or rather, the door sounded like it had been slammed shut, though it was all part of the illusion.

“LOOK!”

When a ghastly, disembodied voice barks an order at you, you obey. Or at least that seemed to be Jaryn's thought process. He went above and beyond the call of duty and clumsily tore the wrapper, revealing the two fingers inside. Gabriel had to hide a smirk. The smell of decomposition assaulted everyone in the room, magically enhanced by Gabe's illusions, and the sticky dark ooze coming out from the fingers added a layer of realism to the image of copious amounts of blood running down from the severed extremity. Gabe's magic couldn't give it weight or make Jaryn's hands actually wet, but Professor Beck's impeccable prop did the work for him. Jaryn's face paled and his terror... Man, his terror was prime. Gabe even let out a satisfied hum, almost a cat-like purr as he absorbed their fear, sharp and vibrant and oh-so-filling. After a few long moments Jaryn dropped the fingers inside a sizable pool of fake, intangible blood that had collected at his feet. Almost as if that were the signal they were all waiting for, the TAs snapped out of their petrified terror and trampled each other in a clumsy race to the door, their screams echoing across the hallways as they ran from the office.

With a satisfied sigh, Gabriel picked up the fingers, rubbed his belly and turned to the Professor, finally breaking down into a laughter that took a while to die down. Normally he would never be so informal around a teacher, but man he always felt ready to take on the world after an all-you-can-eat buffet like that. “So... Was it as good for you as it was for me?”

Morgan did her best to keep her face straight, even disinterested, as Gabriel summoned the disembodied voice of a young woman into the room. She opened her laptop, watching Jeryn’s reflection through the screen. When he called out to her she looked at him confused. “What?”

The voice cried for everyone in the room to look, and Morgan, her face still bland and innocent as before, did. She had to bite the inside of her cheek to keep herself steady. His scream, shrill, throaty, and desperate, must have echoed through the entire hall.

“Aw, guys! What happened?” She called. “Come back, are you okay?”

When she could only hear their footsteps thundering to the bathroom, Morgan finally let out all the laughter she’d been holding in, tipping in her seat and covering her mouth to stop from getting any louder. “Are you kidding me? Gabe! That was amazing! I mean, the way his eyes looked like they wanted to melt! He sounded like a little kid when he screamed too! I’d be surprised if one of them didn’t piss themselves! Oh, stars, I can’t wait to tell him he screamed over a plastic toy when he comes back. This is way better than anything I could’ve done on my own. Seriously, you were--” She shook her head, speechless, and offered her hand up for a high five.

“Hang onto those so you can grab dinner tonight, or dessert,” she said, pointing to the fingers. “They won’t be any good after tomorrow, and I’d rather them go to a good cause than Besides, I can trust a fellow supernatural to look after them, right?” She smiled fondly at Gabriel, already certain that she could. “And, in case it wasn’t clear, I’m really glad you showed up to my office. I think you’d also like my lit seminar, but I hope this isn’t the last time I see you either way.”

Gabriel shook his head vehemently. He wasn't going to take all the credit, he was raised better than that. “Listen, you're the only reason it worked so well, it had weight! Lots of people can take the sight of horrible stuff because, well... TV, I think. But the feel of holding a severed piece of a human bo--teacher?! CSI can't prepare you for that.” Gabe nodded solemnly at his own words, as if he was the teacher and she the student. And then he finally realized her position. Was that a... Holy crap, it was. An actual high five! From a professor! It was almost surreal, but he'd promised to himself long ago he'd never leave anyone hanging. The high-five echoed through the office, to his ears even louder than his own illusions, and his huge grin threatened to split his face in half.

“I'm glad I showed up, too! Though now I better go, I kinda don't want them to come back and find me still here...” Truth be told, part of Gabriel was dying to just stay and ask her all sort of questions about herself, but he still wasn't sure he could trust himself not to put his foot in his mouth and ruin what felt like the luckiest meal of his life. “Oh, and by all means, mail me the deets on the seminar because I am so there...” It was only then that he realized, once more, that this was not one of his peers, this was a teacher, he shouldn't be so casual with her. Yet something about her demeanor had managed to put him at ease from the first moment, to the point where it was hard not to file the Professor under the Potential Friends category in his mind. Maybe, just maybe, that's exactly where she belonged.

[possum-rat]

Resident J.D commits a War crime then unalives

Warning: mentions of Explosions, and other stuff Previous Next

"PEOPLE OF L'MANBERGs.And TommyInnit and WilburSoot- once we find them and expel them from our great nation! Yes, yes! Ah... the sun rises, over another beautiful day in our country. The sun rises on another chapter in our nation's history- the next page of will be reading... 'till the end of time. I reckon our nation needs to expand! I reckon we've... we've done our country a great disservice. I reckon we take down the walls- EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY! I'm launching a public works project- funded by our meth lab that we run- All citizens of L'Manberg, are REQUIRED, REQUIRED! To help TEAR DOWN the walls of this country. Thus ends... the second presidential speech. Let's get to work. Oh wasn't there another kid? (Massacred version of your name) was it?"

The words aren't the best way to wake up. As (y/n) brushes their hair from their face they groan in annoyance. "Jesus Christ. What the fuck is going-" they begin before clapping their hands to their ears as something begins to play. Somehow.

"If he said help me kill the president

I'd say he needs medicine

Sick of screaming let us in

The wires got the best of him

All that he invested in goes

Straight to hell

Straight to hell

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa

Straight to hell

Straight to hell

Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa

He told me I should take it in

Listen to every word he's speaking

The wires getting older I can hear the way they're creaking

As their holding him

Well I could see it in his jaw

That all he ever wanted was a job

He tells me to be raw

Admits to me that every little flaw

That never let him sit upon the top"

"Okay, what the hell?" (Y/n) murmurs as they duck into the mineshaft cavern thing. As they reach the cave itself they duck to get through the tiny door that Tommy had provided apparently not taking into consideration the fact that (Y/n) isn't entirely human, and therefore taller than the average height their age.

as they walk deeper into the cave they dart toward a small hole in the cave. Pressing their hand into a small hole beside the one their in they press a small wooden button.

As they pull their hand back leaning against a small section of wall the floor spins revealing a small room. A bunker if you will. Reaching toward a wooden armor stand. Enchanted netherite armor shining slightly in the darkroom.

As (Y/n) begins to pull on the armor. Adjusting the straps mounted beside their ribs they tighten it to what's needed. Then pulling on their gloves they turn toward the portal infront of them. As they enter pulling on their helmet a voice asks "(y/n?)" a small smile spreads upon their face. Upon reaching the nether they type in the chat, whispering to Tommy Wilbur and Technoblade specifically:

<y/n> I'll be back in a few just need to do something important really quick.

Running toward the community Portal (Y/n) feels adrenaline filling their veins. Everything seems to be more serious. Dangerous even. As the portal comes into view (Y/n) slows down muscles aching heart slamming against their chest. They pull out their potion of invisibility. Uncorking the vile they down it in one gulp. As the slight fowl taste, they pull a face then replace the bow with their crossbow which is able to shoot arrows.

The familiar message of waiting appears infront of (Y/n). As they reach the familiar land they had been exiled from they sigh and begin running toward the White House.

"Funny isn't it?" A voice murmers "it's like history repeating itself. Someone entering the White House..." (y/n) feels their shoulders tense up slightly. They murmer below a whisper "But I'm not killing him. Seriously injuring him? Yeah sure. But not killing him." As they reach the garden of the White House they duck into the small kitchen. Pulling off their armor they begin searching. Almost instantly (Y/n) hears the Yelp and tinkle of glass breaking. Jogging toward the sound (Y/n) sees Quackity.

Arm outstretched in an attempt to protect Tubbo who's cowering. Squatting down out of sight (Y/n) types to the two males.

<Y/n>Get out into a different room or meet me at this location. *insert location*

Quackity begins backing up arm still infront of Tubbo as Shlatt roars drunkenly "YEAH YOU BETTER LEAVE." before something incomprehensible. Followed by "Phattest ass.🥴"

as the room is just about empty (Y/n) stands up stretching and yawns loudly.

Shlatt whips toward the sound and freezes. His pupils turning rectangular in shock. He stand their in shock making the whole thing a little awkward before in freezing and shouting "YOU! I EXILED YOU WHY THE HELL ARE YOU HERE?" (Y/n) laughs doubled over before coughing "Bruh. You should have expected this. I'm pretty good at making bad decisions!"

Pulling out the crossbow they continue talking as if nothing going on. "You know? Not a fan of dictatorship. 'Ts never been...what's the word? Uhh for me? I guess. I mean I don't even like democracy but here I am." As shlatt goes silent there's some aggressive typing before (Y/n) says tiredly "Look dude. I'm trying to have a moment here-"

"HA- D'You think you can overpower me? I've called for backup. YOU'LL DIE!" he laughs. (Y/n) sighs before notching an arrow of Wither effect. A special type. Not enough to kill but still enough to leave the victim with about 2 to 1.5 hearts. "Dude. I don't care. I can literally just disappear Never be found again." (Y/n) sighs.

The shouts from down the hall makes (Y/n) smile. As the arrow clicks into place they hear a ferm voice. Sam. "(Y/n) put the crossbow down." He says calmly. (Y/n) smiles simply and hums quietly to themselves

"If he said help me kill the president

I'd say he needs medicine

Sick of screaming let us in

The wires got the best of him

All that he invested in goes"

A tall silhouette covers the light on the ground. A few more footsteps before (Y/n) takes aim at Shlatt's forehead. "Well...I guess this is a temporary goodbye." They pull the notch and the arrow flies. (Y/n) sprints toward the window crashing through pulling an Ender pearl from their inventory flinging it forward.

they squint as the harsh rays of the sun beat down on their face. It didn't help that small shards of glass were embedded in (Y/n) still healing face. Upon reaching Pogtopia they stumble into the cave and laugh. Not the type one would consider completely normal. It's probably the emotional constipation (Y/n's) put themselves through so they don't grow attached to anyone/thing.

Wilbur's worried face pops into view at that moment. "(Y/n)? What the hell did you do?" (Y/n) then calms down slightly before murmuring "Just shot the president with a poisoning arrow. As you do. He won't die, severally injured yes." At that moment Technoblade Thomas and all the other inhabitants of Pogtopia arrive. (Y/n) bows and disappears into Pogtopia.

-------

As Shlatt is surrounded by basically everyone in the world (Y/n) is zoned out. Standing beside Eret and playing with Her cape. The long black fabric the inside the colors of the Bi flag. The small thin layer of strings on the bottom of the cape. As (y/n) fiddles with it they grow ever more anxious as Shlatt grows ever closer to Fundy. (Y/n) suddenly drops the cape sprinting infront of Fundy as Shlatt slams the bottle down. They then return to where they were murmuring "Yeah he's dead." As soon as those words leave their lips, Jschlatt freezes and drops and dies. Rather anti-climatically.

"Wow. Uh. I- Uh what now?" (Y/n) asks as everyone's gaze turns toward they begin fiddling with their hands nervously. (Y/n) begins to fiddle with the glass ripped clothing over their burnt arm. Eret simply leads them out of the small area and walks toward the Podium. He then takes a seat amongst the chairs and gently takes (Y/n's) arm asking quietly "Is this okay? Can I help you?" (Y/n) freezes at the genuine kindness feeling their eyes begin to water. So to avoid any confrontation they pull an invisibility potion out.

--

As everyone begins taking their seats (Y/n) sits beside Eret on the ground and near Fundy. Placing a small clay Fox ring beside Fundy they continue fiddling with Eret's cape. Even as the speeches go around (Y/n) can't help but feel that some things going to go very wrong. Letting go of Eret's cape they silently dart up toward the Podium. Pulling out an Ender Pearl they take aim and launch it.

The feeling of being sucked then dropped overwhelms (Y/n). As the world blurs (Y/n) shakes their head before speed walking toward Wilbur. Following him the two of them duck into a small hallway. (Y/n) ducking to fit. They eventually ask quietly "is the weight of it all finally too heavy?" Wilbur jumps slightly but turns toward them an unreadable smile upon his face.

"Everything is temporary, L'manberg was merely one of those things,” Wilbur states in a calm tone. "You of all people should know. That good people-Good things don't last. They give up on you. So you have to remove things that mean Value." (Y/n) tenses up and begins to tap the wall beside them anxiously. Not realizing that their tapping "don't leave. Not again."

Wilbur smiles sadly and begins to rant. (Y/n) feels their heart beating faster and faster. (Y/n) holds out a hand hesitantly before deciding against it as Wilbur is facing the other way. "What happened to you?" (Y/n) whispers. "What about your son? You're just going to leave him? Wilbur you promised." Wilbur turns and scoffs. "(Y/n) awe. I didn't realize that you thought that i'd actually keep the promise. Things change. PEOPLE change." He clarifies. "You don't get to change Fate. Look, Tell Fundy I'm sorry. Well- Why don't we sing the anthem again. For old time's sake. "

(Y/n) simply stares in shock. Voices of the dead whisper harshly While faint whispy figures float around. "You should have expected this. Nobody sticks around. They all are going to leave you." (Y/n) Faint footsteps grow louder and louder. (Y/n) whispers "Wilbur. Step away from the button. We don't need another J.D Wilbur please." Wilbur turns his eyes wild, toward (Y/n) and says "Philza." (Y/n) falls silent before drifting toward Wilbur. Falling silent (Y/n) fiddles with their protective gloves, mentally arguing with the dead.

A sudden movement and a Click causes Philza to clamp his hands over his ears while Wilbur does the same. (Y/n) didn't notice. However, the literal Earslitting sound did. Panic filling their head they feel as though the world is tilting. Almost as if the world were a snow globe and a small child was shaking it violently. (Y/n) feels their back slam against a wall sending a flash of pain against their spin. Shaking they watching horror as Wilbur says something. Wait. Why can they hear him? They could hear him a second ago?

Philza turns to on of the crows that had followed him and points toward (Y/n). The bird obliges gliding toward them and fluffing up it's feathers catching (Y/n's) Attention. They offer a violently shaking hand toward the bird. It nuzzles it's beak into their hand. (Y/n) takes the invitation to pet the bird.

After who knows how long it removes itself and flies up. (Y/n) frowns slightly wondering why the bird had flown. Glancing up they see Philza. His mouth moves rapidly but no sound comes from his lips. (Y/n) lift their arms feeling exhaustion pulling at their muscles as they do so. Pressing their hands to their ears they blanch. Pulling their hands away to reveal dark crimson standing out against their (S/c).

Flicking their gaze up to Phil. He crouches holding out a hand. (Y/n) takes it skeptically before a faint voice. One that was declared dead a few minutes ago. A simple word. "GLATT."

(y/n) flinches violently causing Philza to glance toward them worriedly. His blond eyebrows furrowed. He then is surrounded by a sphere of black tones of birds lifting the two of them up and toward the group of civilians staring in a mixture of longing and sadness at the wreckage of what was once home.

(Y/n) feels Phil's hand let go of them and they stumble unsteadily before grabbing onto Bad's upper arm. He turns toward them pure white eyes meeting Grey-ish-(E/c). He mouths something but stops concern filling what's visible of his face.

Pulling their hand back they glance at the ground sheepishly before turning and stumbling off.

[asgardianthot]

Hunting Season (sambucky) – Part 1

Fake Dating AU

Series Masterlist

Summary: The Barnes family is your average rich people circus. With Bucky’s post-breakup financial depression, and a literal treasure hunt at stake, his best friend Sam finds himself in a mad situation in order to help him. They sure can pretend to be together, but that’s just the easy part.

A/N: You want some clichés? I’ll give you some clichés! Fake Dating, friends to lovers, asshole ex-boyfriend, only one bed, mutual pinning, slowburn, you name it :) Also rich!Bucky headcanon because I can.

Words: 3944

The night before.

"What is it this time?" Sam answered the phone, preparing for the rant he was about to hear.

On the other end, Bucky sighed heavily.

"Everything?"

Sam kept his chuckle in as he poured the freshly cooked spaghetti on a plate.

"That's a new one." He rolled his eyes, "Is he still calling you or something?"

"Yeah, and... God, I think I might take him up on his offer."

Although his friend's tone was extremely off-putting, Sam knew him too well and was certain that Bucky wasn't being serious. He was just saying it to be dramatic because he felt trapped. Still, he needed to be reminded that there was light at the end of the tunnel.

Wilson placed the phone between his ear and shoulder so he could take his meal to the table which was a few steps away from the actual kitchen zone.

"No, you won't." Sam reminded him.

"I might!"

Bucky didn't sound honest, but he sounded desperate. He had broken up with the world's biggest, most monumental jerk a hundred times before, yet for various financial and emotional reasons, Bucky had also returned to the man too many times. Sam knew there was an emotional bond, a toxic one, but never asked to what extent, he just made sure Bucky didn't fall back into his webs. Recently, though, it seemed as if he had come to his senses; hadn't picked up the phone when the devil's name came up on his screen for weeks, didn't even mention the master manipulator in a long time.

Sam sat at the small table and put his phone on speaker, next to his food.

"You can't just go back for his money, man."

"Well, I can't keep crashing at my parents’ house, either." Barnes replied with more anguish than Sam had expected.

He sounded like he was fed up with the whole living situation. Although the Barnes weren't necessarily bad, they were inherently overwhelming and controlling people with whom Bucky had already spent eighteen miserable years; Sam understood how downright exhausting it must be to go back to them for help, and he understood why he hated it there. He probably had just gotten into an argument, but Sam still felt empathy towards his poor friend, because Sam's parents were the nicest people on earth- sure, they pried and judged from time to time, but only the normal parental amount. He couldn't imagine growing up in the Barnes' house.

So instead of spurring out laments and empathic hums, he focused on finding Bucky a solution, reminding him there was a way out of the mansion-trap.

"What about that job?"

"I didn't get it." There was a hearable stop, followed by a groan, "I don't know what else to do, I don't know how much longer I can stay here!"

As he worked his brain, Sam shoved a forkfull of spaghetti into his mouth, using the time he was chewing to concoct a quick solution. His friend just needed some caring aid, and Sam was good with home finances, he's good at being responsible and setting down instructions. He's a college professor after all, so giving orders and helping people in confusing times was wired into his bones.

He swallowed before speaking, "Tell you what, why don't you come over and we'll figure something out?"

-

Sam was just finished doing his single dish in his single apartment when Bucky got there. He opened the door and found the resemblance of a lost puppy.

"Thank you."

The host ushered him inside, and while Bucky closed the door behind him, Sam returned to the kitchen to finish putting everything away.

"Don't thank me yet. We need to come up with a plan." He turned to him with a mildly disappointing glance, for he was expecting a disappointing answer, "Just to be clear: no savings?"

"Nope." Bucky popped his 'p' with exaggerated defeat.

"Remind me to call you an idiot later."

"Will do." He nodded.

While Sam put away the now clean pan on the bottom counter, James found himself shame-walking to the table. He sat down, extended his arms over the furniture and let his head drop with self-pity.

"What about your folks, are they really not willing to help out?" Sam tried.

"They won't give me a single penny."

"Can't say that I'm surprised."

As soon as Wilson headed towards his friend, he noticed Bucky was waiting for him to be able to stay one hundred percent attentive. He was fidgeting with his fingers and bouncing his leg up and down, looking way too nervous for being around Sam, his best friend whom he trusted more than anyone. So, Sam got the severity of the issue and sat down on the table with him.

"Listen..." Bucky began, although he missed Sam's eye contact on purpose, "I was thinking... and I know that you've already supported me enough, but maybe... you could, uh... Lend me some money?" Suddenly, his face contorted in anguish as he was clearly embarrassed to even ask; before Sam could respond, he started rambling, "Just to get my own place, and I promise I'll pay you back as soon as I get some stability."

Sam tilted his head with sympathy.

"Of course I can lend you some money. But it's still a risky shot, dude."

Seeing him shrug, Sam noticed the evident sadness and surrender in James' face, and Sam wondered if it had been the devil ex or the Barnes who had sucked the hope out of him.

"It's all I got. I can't stand my parents any longer."

Sam nodded, and they fell into some silence. The discomfort coming from Bucky's end of the table was palpable, so Sam attempted to ease some of the tension.

"You can always just leave the country and go live with your sister." He joked.

The way Bucky looked at him with a small smile, Sam could read the gratefulness in his eyes.

"Nah, I could never leave you." Barnes taunted back, "You'd crumble."

"Yeah, that's it." Sam looked away with lifted, disbelieving eyebrows, "Definitely not the other way around."

He got a chuckle out of his best friend, and in comparison to the glim aura that had been surrounding him the last minutes, it was a relieving sound

" 'sides, she wouldn't get off my back either." Bucky added, "Rebecca's not an option."

Once again, silence dropped on them, only this time it was a pensive one. It didn't take long for Sam to have the best idea he'd had yet.

"Drink?" he offered.

"Please."

-

"I'm telling you, I can't seem to do anything right." Bucky admitted in between sips of wine, "The more I try to fix my shit, the more I mess it up, and that's Brock's cue to jump right back into the picture and offer an easy way out."

"You can't let him control you." His friend reminded him, "You're better than that."

Bucky had heard that speech a hundred times, and a hundred times he had lowered his head with shameful agreement, like a toddler being reprimanded and responding with the generic You're right, I'll do better. However, this time, Barnes was honest. Too honest, for Sam's taste, actually. Staring into nothingness as if illuminated by some divine realization of disappointment, he clacked his tongue.

"See, I don't know that I am."

Sam, on his part, was having none of that.

"Yes, you are. You've just made some very questionable choices." He slurred, and only then did Bucky realize how drunk his friend had gotten over the past hour, "And you wanna know why?"

With the last question went a very unpreoccupied hand gesture, employing the hand which held the glass of red wine like he'd forgotten the wine was even there, and therefore almost spilling it all over his carpet.

Bucky cringed and reached for the now turned dangerous beverage.

"I think that's enough wine for you." He laughed, trying to pry the glass away.

"Because you never listen to me!" Sam ignored him, which was Bucky's cue to effectively grab it and leave it on the coffee table, "I told you not to let him pay for stuff in the first place. Told you if he owns everything you share, he owns you."

The words, Bucky remembered from many times prior. The harsh tone, though, was relatively new.

"It just sort of happened." He shrugged, "I lost my job and suddenly..."

As Bucky lost his trail, Sam filled in with amusement, "You became a housewife from, like, the 1950's."

Barnes smirked in an attempt to lighten the mood, and escape the current lecture he was receiving, "Why is that bad?"

Unfortunately for him, Sam was not playing along.

"Because you can't hand them your independence. Not to your parents, not to Brock Fucking Rumlow, not to anyone. You know what's worth more than money?"

"Let me guess, my freedom?"

"Your dignity." Sam laid out the words with much more seriousness any drunk man should be able to convey.

Silence followed the rough declaration, and Bucky sat back. He pursed his lips at the ground, feeling even more judged in that apartment than in his parents' house. At least, they nagged about things that were insignificant to him, but what Sam had just dropped was a truth-bomb that resonated with his deepest concerns.

"That hurt." He admitted.

He wasn't upset, and even less with Sam. This was what he needed to hear, after all, and he could always trust Sam to be responsible and hones, but that didn't mean he would sleep on that sentence until he made some real changes in his life.

"It's just the truth." Sam grinned with somewhat lament as he reached for more wine.

-

The day of.

Sam woke up the next morning with the smell of fresh breakfast, and a hangover. When he managed to get on his feet, he walked down to the living room, where he found Bucky preparing something in the kitchen. Last night's events came back to him at the sight of his face: his cry for help, one late night talk and lots of wine. That's pretty much all that came to mind, which made him wonder what his drunk persona had put Bucky through.

"Morning, pal!" the voice made him jump a bit.

Bucky seemed cheery, which meant that he'd woken up hangover-free, and that drunk Sam hadn't been a pain in his ass. Sam felt he could relax.

"Did I really pass out on red wine in my own couch?" he groaned, scratching the back of his head.

Walking closer, he recognized what Bucky was preparing as french toasts, and his rumbling stomach felt grateful.

"Like a grandpa." Bucky confirmed with a mocking tone.

"Jesus Christ." Sam sighed.

"Don't let your dad hear you say the Lord's name in vain."

The warning reminded Sam of Bucky's parental situation. Bucky was one of Sam’s few friends who knew Sam's parents, and they'd gotten along many times, whereas Sam had never even met the Barnes. He knew Rebecca, but that was about it, and he figured they must be real characters if Bucky kept them away from him.

Sam let his body fall flat onto the couch, and covered his eyes with his arm rather dramatically, "I'm slowly spiraling down into a mediocre professor's life."

"You're not a mediocre professor and you don't have a mediocre life." Bucky denied him the right to self-loathe.

"I disagree. Your problems are the highlight of my week."

"Stop moaning and eat up."

As Sam raised his arm to peak, he found a plate of french toasts and a cup of orange juice being offered to him.

He gave Bucky a look of ultimate gratefulness as he mumbled a thank you and received the food.

Suddenly he appreciated more than ever that his friend was good at cooking, even though it probably came from a tragic backstory like his many childhood maids taught him in order to replace the absence of his parents or something.

"Least I could do." Bucky reckoned, meaning the fact that Sam had welcomed him into his home and offered to help him with his financial situation, "This, and dragging you to bed last night."

Sam visibly cringed before taking a big bite, "Did I say really dumb stuff?"

Bucky reflected on that idea for a hot second. Sam had, as a matter of fact, spilled out some truths, but Bucky didn't want to embarrass him, so he simply let it go.

He chuckled instead, "Nah, just the usual stupidity."

On his way to prepare some coffee, he checked his phone and noticed he'd received a text: we need to talk.

-

He knew what this was about. Which was the reason why he told his parents to meet him for lunch, some place they would approve of, after he'd had time to tidy up and borrow some of Sam's clothes. All just to minimize the judgement he was about to endure.

As soon as he sat down on the restaurant table, Barnes father hit him with that familiar severity.

"Where did you spend the night?"

"A hotel room." Bucky replied.

"You can't afford one."

"And I have you to thank for that." The tone quickly shifted to one of mutual accusations, "You're the one who cancelled all my cards."

"James." His mother joined the conversation in an attempt to get Bucky to lower said tone.

"It’s fine. I'm gonna crash at a friend's house.” Bucky directed the eased words to his mother, "Until I get on my own feet- which I will."

"A friend?" the dad interrupted, "Is that what you're doing now to pay for a roof over your head?"

Bucky raised his eyebrows, unamused, "Are you calling me a whore?"

"James, your father and I are worried." The woman reached over the table for her son's hands, "We want you to get yourself out of this... low spot. And last night, you proved your immaturity to us by throwing a tantrum and running away."

"Wasn't a tantrum." James retrieved his hands from his mother's grasp, "Look, if you're not going to help me out financially, then I see no reason to indulge your criticism. Otherwise it's just free abuse."

The older man rolled his eyes, "Always the drama king."

A cloud of silence fell upon the three people, thankfully soon joined by a waitress who took their orders. After they all delivered their monotone words and handed the lady their menus, Barnes father went back to the same topic.

"So, who's paying for your stuff?"

Bucky sat back on his chair, "Oh, we're still on that."

"Just wanna know how much I owe the poor soul. You keep forcing your financial situation on people, you're gonna run out of friends."

Eventually, James found himself in a tight spot. Whatever answer he gave his father, the man wouldn't be satisfied. His own son begging for money was beyond simple disappointment. The only time George Barnes had approved of Bucky depending on someone was when Brock Rumlow owned his life, because Brock was a family friend and a fine young man. Naturally, an opportunity popped into Bucky's head.

"Well, he's not a friend." He announced, earning attentive looks from both his parents, "He's, uh... we're a couple. He's not lending me money, we're sort of... living together."

Something in their eyes told Bucky they weren't buying it.

"Since when?" the mother asked.

"It's been sporadic. But we're stable."

George Barnes narrowed his eyes, "I take it it's not Rumlow."

"No, I told you, that's over." Bucky shook his head.

"Then I wanna meet this guy."

"Oh, invite him over to Nana's." The woman clapped her hands together.

The simple thought of the upcoming family vacation made him lose his appetite. Every year during spring break, the Barnes would get together for some quality time at their grandparents’ lake house. Bucky figured that this year, he probably would spend one or two weeks there before he could manage an excuse to leave. That was before he made up a fictional boyfriend, though, and the biggest problem was he didn’t have a boyfriend to bring.

"He has plans for the break." He lied.

Winnifred gave him a look that yelled incomprehension, as if she was incapable of fathoming the idea of someone not wanting to join their plans. "He can cancel them, he'll have more fun at the lake house anyways!"

"It's just that-"

"He'd love it.” Her voice began doing that thing where she sounded like she was genuinely begging, instead of simply manipulating, “And maybe you two could win Nana's hunt this year."

Now that caught Bucky’s attention. That actually made him reconsider everything. The Barnes had some very odd traditions, some Bucky loved and some he despised; but there was one in particular he had very mixed sentiments about, and which now presented itself like lifeboat.

"Right. The hunt." He trailed off, contemplating the possibility of participating in the godforsaken annual hunt.

"So what's he do?" his father’s words snapped him back.

"Huh?"

"Your boyfriend. What does he do?"

Bucky swallowed hard. In a moment of complete panic, his blank mind went to the easiest way out: the person who had actually offered his house to him for the night. Sam’s occupation was the only thing that popped into his head.

"He's a... professor.” He blurted out without much thought, “University."

"That's lovely." His mother approved.

Shit. It only then occurred to him that he was effectively making up a boyfriend, job and all, which meant he certainly couldn’t get away from it now. And it would only get worse as he dug into his lie deeper and deeper.

"What do I call him?" the older man asked.

Once again, Bucky found himself gulping.

-

"You told them what?!" Sam exclaimed.

Bucky sat with his head down in shame, while Sam paced around his own apartment, furiously.

"I'm sorry." Barnes said truthfully.

"You could've dragged anyone along with your dumb plans.” Sam ignored him and continued scolding him. “Why me?"

The appellee sighed, "It was an ambush, Sam, you should've seen it."

"I don't care!"

"They were asking me all these questions, it felt like a fucking quizz!” Bucky’s lamenting state turned much more hectic as he tried to explain his actions, “I panicked, I don't know, it just came out."

A big breath of disappointment shook Sam’s chest. Of course, he tried to understand Bucky when it came to his family. He did his best. But this was too much, for now that pressure had been transported to Sam. The weight relied on Sam’s shoulders as a whole. Still, he figured there was no way out of the hole Bucky had dug for the both of us. If the Barnes thought Sam was their son’s boyfriend, then that’s what he was. At least, until Bucky found an exit for both of them.

Reflecting on how this would be the last favor he would ever do for his friend, and at the same time acknowledging that was just a lie he told himself, Sam sat next to Bucky, who seemed expectant of more judgement. Much to his surprise, Sam’s words weren’t harsh.

"I take it they wanna meet the boyfriend." He said, a lot more nonchalantly than either of them expected.

Bucky looked at him with wide eyes, "Shit, are you serious? Would you do that for me?"

"Yeah, wouldn't be the first time I get you out of trouble." Sam ran a hand down his face.

"Sam, you’re-“

"The best, I know.” Wilson glanced up at the ceiling for strength, laying back on his couch, “So when do we have to put on a show?"

There was a brief silence, only interrupted by the sound of Bucky’s fingernails scratching the back of his head, which dropped another wave of tension upon the pair.

"That's the thing." Bucky cringed.

"What's the thing?"

"You know my family's lake house?" he tempted.

"No. No, no, no!” Sam found himself standing up at the mere thought of what he knew he was being asked, “I am not going to the middle of rich nowhere with you and your folks."

"It would only be a week.” Bucky raised his voice with a plea, earning a look of disbelief from Sam who felt like a week was not worthy of being introduced by the word ‘only’, “But, with a bunch of family members."

Samuel shook his head, clear disbelief plastered on his features.

"You don't realize how insane you sound right now."

"Hear me out, this is a good thing. Just... listen.” Bucky raised his hands in defense, “You know how my grandfather left his fortune to Nana?”

Doing his absolute best to stay open-minded, Sam nodded. Perhaps Bucky was headed somewhere with his explanation.

“Well, she has this... odd way of getting rid of it."

"The hell you talking about?" Sam frowned, growing inpatient.

"I never told you ‘cause it made me sound even more of a trust fund baby."

"Which you are."

"Point taken.” Bucky tilted his head with acceptance before he continued, “But this is good for both of us. She hates giving out her money, but she has no use for it, so she... makes it into a game every year."

Sam remained quiet, becoming more and more upset because he started getting an idea of what this was about: money and his family’s eccentric behaviors. And of course, Bucky meant to bring Sam into both of those things.

"I hate your family."

Bucky couldn’t hold back a tiny smirk, "You won't when you find out how much the prize is."

Suddenly, Sam found himself considering the offer. He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest.

"I'm listening." He said, unprepared for the number he was about to hear.

"Four million dollars.” Bucky laid out like he was pitching him a job offer, which, in some twisted way, it was, “We split it, I can get back on my own feet, gain my independence... and you get two millions for being such a good friend."

The amount of money was too much for a family game. The idea sounded too ridiculous for any normal family. But then again, these were the Barnes. Therefore, while Sam was having a hard time processing the information, he blinked fast, maintaining eye contact with Bucky, almost as if waiting for his friend to break character and reveal that this was all a joke.

"Two million dollars?" Sam confirmed.

"Two million each." Bucky nodded, expectant.

Sam had to sit back down, but not next to Bucky this time. He sat on the coffee table, still digesting it. The prize was more than what he made in a year. And it really seemed like this was Bucky’s best solution to all his problems.

"And it's a game?" Sam asked with that same cautious tone.

"Yeah, it's a... treasure hunt.” Barnes shrugged, “With, like, challenges and stuff. She cooks up the entire thing in her twisted little mind."

Sam nodded, at nothing really, but just as a manner of expressing that he had processed everything properly.

"But we'd have to pretend for a full week and actually win the thing."

"Nana loves me, 've always been her favorite. You butter her up, she'll give us the cheats. Make it easy for us."

The man nodded again, this time with purpose, "Okay."

"Okay?" Bucky raised his eyebrows with hope.

"Okay." Sam raised his voice before he could regret the choice, "Let's get this prize."

[genuflectx]

Just wanna rant about my job a bit, will probably delete this later. But I think I may quit my job within the next month or so u_u’

Originally when I joined this job last year it was under originations- I helped people apply and get approved for loans, or offered general tech support when they needed help with the process online. I felt like I was helping these nice old people, they were rarely mean (save for the occasional grouchy old man after he gets rejected), and the work load was decent. Not too heavy, not too boring. 

Then the pandemic hit. My entire team, which had been hired only a few months before, were rushed in for “accelerated training” on the credit card support department. I believe it was just like 4 weeks of training for a tooootally different workflow. We worked in the servicing department for what, maybe a month? Then they furloughed a ton of people and managers and moved us AGAIN, this time to collections. So calling to collect debts on our credit card product. When I joined this company it was under the understanding I did NOT want to do collections because it makes me sad and feel shitty. But they promised us we would be transferred back to originations after a bit, so whatever.

Slowly things have gone downhill since. Just tiny things adding up. They implemented a internet speed minimum requirement, which is understandable working from home, but we lost another good chunk of people who got fired for that, some who I’d made friends with. Hell, I got THREATENED with firing due to this, forcing us to run an Ethernet cable through 2 stories of our house. And I was PISSED because I was the only one on the team making a 100% average on QA scores. Then a few people quit, leaving only 3 people from my original originations team. They hired a new manager to oversee work force management (WFM) and quality assurance (QA) around this point and I’m CONVINCED it got worse because of her changes...

They changed our outbound dialing system to a cheaper one, promising all these improvements, and who woulda guessed... the quality of work life barely improved with this piece of crap tech but hey, it cut costs. Next they dismantled the debt management company department (DMC) and trained us in it so we’re technically trained for and work in two departments. On top of the promise that in the far future that they will cross-train us with the loan department too, a totally different product. We also have to do the emails for our department as well.

Then things got bad. Non stop calls for a months. Likely related to the unfortunate weather disasters in our outsourced locations. The outbound dialer, which is an autodialer that WFM loads up with late people to auto-call, starting filling up with impossible amounts of people to call for our agent count. We started going from 5000 to call every few hours to 10,000. And it doesn’t matter if we don’t clear the queue, they will load more in at certain times of the day. So we’d get 10,000 at 1pm, we’d get it down to 3,000 by 5pm, and they’d just load it back up to 10,000 again. 

Then they added on the mandatory overtime. Everyone in our department either has to do a half shift extra on either saturday or sunday- with mine being on saturday. Another person quit (down to 2 from my original team). We’re understaffed as hell and they tell us that they’re FINALLY training a new class. And know what? They ONLY enacted the OT and got a new class because their service levels were down. Service levels are a mandatory legal level of how many agents per how many customers we have, they get in legal trouble when it drops too far for too long. They didn’t give a shit about our stress until their damn legal agreement dropped and then forced the OT on us. Wow. We feel so appreciated. 

And THEN the OT was supposed to go until Feb 14th- today. THEY EXTENDED IT ANOTHER WEEK. 

And and and a few days after they told us it was extended these dudes LAY OFF 3 managers, including our team’s manager, who I REALLY liked, and stuck us into the team of a manager who is notorious for giving out incorrect policy info! Why! >:( 

Some other small things they’ve done that have added up slowly: They sent me a “nice” alluminum mug for my high QA score. Stuck it in the washer once and the pretty gold lettering on the front melted. It also leaks. They do these “thank you” videos some time where the upper management (never faces you recognize save for 2 or 3). BUT they made us watch this 10 minute long “thank you” Christmas video BETWEEN CALLS instead of scheduling time for us to do it like usual. Due to the short staffing, they changed how our weekly meetings with our manager/team go. Instead of having the whole team go into a meeting with her twice per week, they made her split this into 3 smaller meetings once per week, so that 2 or 3 team members meet with her at a time (more people on the floor to take calls). It spread her thin- before they laid her off of course. After they enacted the OT a week or so into it one of the upper management people sent us all an email telling us we basically weren’t doing good enough because our collections numbers weren’t high enough.. KNOWING we’re under staffed, she still emailed that. Come on.

So ya know what? My fiance and friends have encouraged me to just move on. This company isn’t what it was when I started a year ago, and idk if it’s legit just due to covid or if this WFM/QA overseer that they hired near the end of 2020 is fully to blame. I hate hearing customers tell me day in day out about their family dying, about being homeless/evicted. I hate old ladies screaming at me because they can’t comprehend that WE ARE IN A PANDEMIC and the MAIL WILL BE LATE, so their damn paper checks need to be mailed out at least 2-3 weeks in advanced- OR THEY COULD JUST CALL AND PAY LIKE NORMAL PEOPLE. Tired of people insulting me and calling me names because THEY’RE late and THEY missed a payment and they can’t accept responsibility- because they think screaming at someone making a few bucks over min wage will do anyone any good or make their shitty credit score any better.

All this mandatory OT and my nice manager being fired has put a lot of stress on me, if the other crap wasn’t enough. We’re really financially stable in this household even if I did quit, even if I’d feel guilty af. And it could be months before I found another job as safe and well-paying as this one, but at least my mental health would recover.

So I have about a day of sick time and 80 hours of PTO. My plan is to hopefully schedule out all 80 hours, or at least 85% of my PTO if I can, then when I come back to put in a 1 week notice. By then the new agents will be in full swing. I can get the money from the PTO I earned at this shit collections job and then try and move on to bigger and better things. And in the mean time while looking, I can work on art/writing and I can also possibly get a new car with all the money we’ve saved up. My mama and granny might end up disapproving and judge me but 2020 was such a shit year and I’m tired of this. I feel like this job is taking advantage of us and legit just doesn’t give a crap about their employees.

Okay! Well that’s outta my system! Bleck