#IM ONLY POSTING TWO MORE CLIPS I PROMISE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thetriggeredhappy · 3 years ago

Note

in the dadspy au, what if jeremy was just going to be an assistant/cook/janitor at the base while his dad was being the mercenary (since spy didnt want him to follow the "career" but didnt want to be separated from him), but then jeremy turned out to be even better than the hired scout so they promote him to that position and spy is not happy with this at all

ok i was gonna put this in the queue to post but im impatient because im happy with this one. only thing i didnt have was spy being upset by this development

(warnings for canon-typical violence, discussion of mercenary-type things, paranoia, alcohol, and exactly one proper fight scene. consider this pg-13)

“Would you prefer the good news first, or the bad news?” Dad asked.

Jeremy looked up at him from where he’d snatched up the sunday comics from his dad’s newspaper and was doodling little hats on the characters while they waited for their food to arrive. “Uh,” he said, “good news first.”

“Alright. The good news is, do you remember that line I’ve been tailing? The one in New Mexico?”

“Uh, yeah,” Jeremy said, then nodded a little more confidently. “Immunity, safehouse, somethin’ like that, right?”

“...Something like that,” Dad agreed carefully, and that made him raise an eyebrow. “It went well, and I think there’s the very real possibility that I’ve all but closed the deal, all they want now is an interview.”

“...Interview, singular,” Jeremy said slowly.

“That’s where the bad news begins. Unfortunately... merde, how to phrase this?” He drew a hand down his face. “They’re fully willing to hire me on, but this is a more... corporate affair than I’m used to. They have rules, stipulations. Long story short, they will not hire you as a mercenary on the basis of your age.”

Jeremy tensed. “What?” he demanded. “That’s stupid, I’m old enough to drive and buy guns and whatever the hell else.”

“But not rent a car, at least in many places in the United States.”

“But—“ he started, and remembered they were in public, and lowered his voice to a hiss, leaning in. “We’re hired killers, thieves, criminals. Do they really think we’re above having fakes? False documentation?”

“Actually, that is one of their requirements,” Dad said dryly, taking a paper from his jacket and consulting it. “I’m not happy about it either, mon lapin, but those are their rules. Already they have slightly bent them for one individual, and already I am on thin ice. But I may have a way to manage this.”

“Yeah?” Jeremy asked, nervous now.

“I know the woman responsible for new hires and managing the team I’ve applied for. She owes me a favor—a fairly hefty one. When I go in for the interview, one of my demands will include you being hired on, not as a mercenary, but for... for custodial purposes, something like that. Cook, janitor, security guard, secretary—whatever job there is that needs doing there, and I am sure that there will be one. Something to allow you to live there. Pay will likely be her stipulation, and the play I hope to make is that really, you’re overqualified for the position and she’s lucky to have someone so competent available, and in the worst case scenario, the pay is still good enough even for just one of us that we will not cut too deeply into the savings.”

The savings. That made Scout blink, because they only ever brought up the savings when—

“You think this could be it?” he asked quietly. “Like, it it?”

A hard exhale, and he leaned his cheek on his hand. “Potentially,” he finally said. “I don’t want to get your hopes up, but the job promises a variety of things. Medical attention available, extremely low levels of danger, and most of all, confidentiality. The only people who will know any name we give them would be the woman in charge of hiring us and their singular medical professional. There is no mode of communication to or from the compound outside of emergency lines to the organization and a single secure payphone located two miles away, there is no civilization within a twenty-five minute drive minimum, and this operation has been going long enough that the local authorities have long since grown used to being paid off, and likely don’t even remember what for anymore. I cash in a few valuable favors and ask this employer to turn a blind eye, we’d have somewhere remote and secure to spend our time after our deaths are faked and once the contract is over, we can start over. No ties to the past.”

“Freedom,” Jeremy marveled.

Silence for a few seconds, broken only by the quiet chatter of the rest of the diner. “I want to warn you, this work may not be glamorous. It may not even be particularly easy. I’m giving you the option of saying no,” Dad said.

“What?! Yes, hell yes, are you joking? To get us to living like normal people? Steady work? Livin’ in one place? Count me in!” he laughed.

“What if the job is something you won’t enjoy? Long hours, boring work?” Dad asked, entirely serious.

“I’m still on board.”

“What if the other people working there are rude to you? Disrespectful?”

“Well most of the people I meet through our job now try to kill us, so really it’s an upgrade.”

“What if there’s no diner nearby?” he asked, and there was a glint of humor in his eye.

“Damn, sorry, that’s the dealbreaker,” he joked right back, and that made him snort, shake his head, greet the waitress as she came back with their coffee and soda and then informed them that their food would be out shortly.

“I’ll ask,” was what Dad said once she was gone again, and that was that, and they started driving to New Mexico two nights later.

“—A warm welcome to our two newest recruits. This is the Spy, and this is the Guard.”

“Guard?” asked one of the men at the table, his accent thick and distinctly Russian. It made Jeremy tense slightly, but he didn’t let it show.

“Night Guard,” Jeremy answered, voice clipped.

“He’s not technically hired on as a mercenary like you all, he won’t be joining you on missions,” the short woman apparently named Miss Pauling (Jeremy was fairly sure it was a fake name) said, hands folded in front of her neatly. “He’s here to work security. Keep an eye out during the night, filter through the camera footage, handle the archiving, things like that.”

“We’re hiring on a civvie now?” asked another man, thick Scottish accent a little harder to digest than the eyepatch and the grenade he was in the process of fiddling with the internal mechanisms of.

“He’s combat ready, and will still be armed. His job is to essentially make sure you’re all safe enough to sleep through the night,” Miss Pauling said.

“I’m not some chump,” Jeremy agreed. “I know my stuff.”

“How old is he?” another man asked, this one in a hardhat with a heavy drawl, looking concerned.

“Twenty, for your information,” Jeremy said, a little sharply, eyes narrowed.

“If you have any other questions, there’ll be time later on. For now, I do need to show our two newest recruits where they’ll be staying,” Miss Pauling cut in.

There was an audible scoff from one of the men at the table, a dramatic rolling of eyes. Jeremy glared at him. He unfolded and refolded his extremely tattoo’d tree-trunk-like arms, tugging the visor of his hat between. “Sorry,” he said, accent thick and distinctly Californian. “I just don’t have the most trust for some scrawny kid in slacks and creep in a ski mask.”

“Scout, don’t start,” Miss Pauling warned.

“Just saying,” this man, apparently called Scout, muttered under his breath regardless.

“Don’t,” she said again, more firmly, and ignored the second eye roll she got for the trouble. “If you two would follow me.”

And they were shown around the base, and Jeremy in particular was shown into a room stuck behind three locked doors, where he found camera feeds and recording equipment. She gave him a basic overview and a thick packet of instructions and policies labelled ‘highly classified’ and a phone number to call if he had any further questions, and a set of hours that were apparently meant to become the new standard for him (with the quiet addendum that if he finished early that was alright, and that technically he could turn in early if two or more members of the team were already awake for the day and he was caught up on the archiving of old tapes).

Then he was left to “get used to the equipment”, which he assumed meant his dad was getting a similar rundown of his job, and it took a pretty quick glance through the packet to understand that clearly this place ran on an extremely secretive and closely monitored series of systems. In the packet, between the sections on camera maintenance and operation hours, were a few sheets detailing what were apparently the movement patterns of the various members of the team, including frequented locations and previously recorded large-scale infractions (mostly on the part of the Soldier, the Medic, the Scout, and one from the Demoman).

He wasn’t the one with the title Spy, but fuck, it seemed like he might as well have it. His entire job wasn’t even necessarily to keep the team safe overnight—he was just meant to watch all of them to make sure nobody was anywhere or doing anything out of the ordinary.

The next time he saw his dad, waiting outside the infirmary to get some sort of physical evaluation, his face was arranged carefully enough that he could tell he’d figured out something was up, too.

“Got your job assignments?” he asked quietly in French, glancing towards the door into the infirmary.

A nod, a glance. “I’m intrigued by the methods used in employee evaluation,” he deadpanned. “Especially the fact that apparently, they’re willing to assign employees for the explicit task of doing them.”

“How often?”

“Weekly.”

“Thorough,” Jeremy deadpanned, and glanced towards the hall at the distant sound of laughter, echoing from somewhere else on the base. “That’s basically mine too.”

There was a long silence, and when Jeremy looked back over, his dad was giving him an almost expectant look, waiting. All he had to offer him was a shrug, which was returned after a moment with a vague shake of the head. “I don’t believe it will be a problem,” his dad said simply. “Not for us, at the very least.”

Jeremy nodded. “Yeah. Uh, anyways, good luck with the… physical, or whatever,” he said, and received a pat on the shoulder before he walked back off down the hall, hoping to figure out what exactly he was supposed to do with an entire room all to himself. He’d almost never had one before.

He was used to time changes and jet lag, to needing to switch his sleep schedule on the regular, but the switch to a straight up night shift was a rough one.

His nine-to-five was actually a ten-to-six, as in 10 PM through 6 AM. This meant that, assuming he managed to get his schedule in order, he’d be able to join in on the team dinners if he woke up early and could eat breakfast with them before he went to bed.

Very quickly he realized that going to dinner and breakfast with the team was going to become a staple part of his routine, because it didn’t take long before he began to feel extremely lonely all of the time. In a dark little room, everyone else asleep, scrubbing through tapes from during the day while half keeping an eye on the live feed from around the base that never showed much of anything, it was brutal. It was suffocating.

It was easy, at least. It didn’t take long before he got efficient at it and could start zoning out, and it wasn’t like he was under much pressure. His was the only room without any cameras in it. Security risk, apparently.  And to be honest, what small amount he and Dad interacted with mercenaries and other criminal types, Jeremy didn’t really tend to like them much. A lot of them were loud and rude and had the potential to turn around and try and kill them whenever they felt like it. He didn’t expect that he’d like the team as much as he did. He especially didn’t expect to like them so much without ever really talking to them.

But watching the camera feeds from throughout the day, seeing what they were up to, they were just... nice people. Soldier out by the dumpsters practicing rocket jumps and wrangling raccoons and apparently trying to learn how to spin a rifle, Pyro’s regular minor explosions in the kitchen while cooking and the surprised and frantic way they cleaned it up every time, the Demoman’s tendency to whistle wherever he went, watching through the feed as they all played cards and argued and jostled each other. They all seemed really nice. Really cool. Really dorky, too, but mostly just really nice and really cool.

And there were a few of them he was less sure about—he couldn’t get eyes on the Medic most of the time, what with the one camera in the Medbay being tilted down at an angle that made it hard to see much of anything but the occasional bird (probably by those same birds). The Heavy tended to just sit and read, and was pretty much silent most of the time otherwise. The Scout tended to leave the base pretty often. And the Sniper didn’t even live on base, he had a van outside that he could only occasionally see movement in when he squinted at the far edge of the camera leading outside. But even then, Heavy and Sniper mostly just seemed quiet, and Medic just seemed busy, and the Scout just seemed like a little bit of a dickhead.

But then one day when Jeremy was at breakfast the Heavy caught him leaning to try to get a look at the cover of the book he was reading, and he blurted that he was just wondering what book was so great that he’d stay up until like four in the morning reading, and then the entire team was gawking at him and asking questions and insisting that it was insane that there was someone actually watching all those cameras, and he shrugged and said there was always supposed to be someone watching the tapes back it was just usually some office worker type a hundred miles away. And they seemed almost... upset with him. And maybe that was fair, it wasn’t like he ever talked to any of them much, mostly he just spent breakfast and dinner half-asleep and listening to their chatter. And Demoman admitted that he’d honestly assumed that Jeremy slept his entire shift, he just always looked so tired at breakfast. There was almost this discomfort. This distrust.

And so, now that the jig was up, he made it a point to say some things to certain members of the team. To tell the Medic that his camera was tilted down so that he couldn’t see most of the room, and to very pointedly say that it was weird how that happened and that he didn’t know why they set it up like that in the first place, but it was really none of his business. Made it a point to warn the Engineer in the morning that the previous night, Soldier had been doing something in the fridge for a while, and to maybe check the labels before he made breakfast. Made it a point to tell the Demoman that the camera in his workshop was right in plain sight, and that if he moved one of his blackboards an inch or two to the left, it would obscure the room a pretty hefty amount. Made it a point to tell the Sniper that the camera on the rooftop seemed to be glitching out, and it’d just sort of lost the tapes of the previous two nights, and that it was really unfortunate since for all he knew there might have been someone ignoring the signs about there being no personnel allowed up there.

In return, he found that Pyro would sometimes make little sparkly notes with smiley faces on them and stick them to the door to the security room. That Sniper started tipping his hat at the camera above the door into the base from the garage. That on occasional drinking nights, the team would suddenly turn and start waving at the camera, laughing the whole way. On one night in particular he could hear through the low-quality and tinny speakers that they were trying to cajole him into leaving the security room for a while to join them for cards, and god, but he wanted to.

And he noticed more things. Soldier walking with a slight limp some days when rocket jumps had rough landings. Being able to count the doves in the infirmary and even tell them apart to some extent through blurry close-ups. The Engineer making it a point to sweep really regularly regardless of what project he was working on.

And then he noticed a weird thing.

It took him a long time to get used to the patterns of hallways, the cameras not really lined up linearly after a while, too many branching paths. He learned to follow progress, to flick from one camera to the next as someone walked around corners. And for a while he thought maybe he wasn’t very good at it.

Until he realized two things. First of all, that in a hallway where he knew there were five doors, he could only see four—apparently the door to Pyro’s room was just barely out of sight of the camera. He only figured it out because one day it swung open wide enough to almost bang against the wall.

And then, when he realized there was somehow that massive blindspot, that there was a corner with a blindspot too. One where that Scout kept disappearing.

He watched a few more times to make sure, and yep. He’d see the Engineer walking around the corner, flick to the next screen, and there he was, continuing down the hallway. And then later that same day, the Scout, walking, and flick to the next camera, and he wasn’t there.

One of the worse parts of the job was that he never got to see Dad anymore, never got to just sort of hang out the way they did all the time when he was growing up, and he knew he would miss it but he didn’t know how much. And he found it was even worse when he had something important to say, doubly so when he had something important to say but no idea if it was actually important.

He tried to bring it up casually, in the like ten minutes of time he ever got alone to talk to Dad. Dad was fighting the kettle trying to make some tea and he was trying to stay awake long enough to figure out how he was going to say this.

“Uh,” he said, and Dad looked at him. “So, uh, what’s the read you’re getting on that Scout guy?”

“Lazy,” Dad shrugged, looked back at the kettle. “Arrogant. He seems to care very little about doing his job correctly and has horrible communication on the field.”

“Right, right,” he nodded, fought a yawn down. “Uh. So like, kind of a dickhead.”

“Indeed,” Dad said, nodding vaguely.

“So uhhh... not the best.”

“Where are you going with this?” Dad asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

“I, I dunno, the guy just likes hanging out in this one blindspot in the cameras, and it’s kinda freaking me out,” Jeremy said, scratching at the back of his neck.

Dad frowned. “Strange. I wasn’t aware that there were any blindspots in the cameras.”

“There’s only a few, and only for pretty small spaces I think? But apparently he just likes hanging out in one of them.” Jeremy scuffed his shoe on the ground, glancing over as voices started echoing down the hall towards them. “Just thought it was weird.”

“I’ll look into it,” Dad muttered, voice quiet, and then raised it again slightly. “I refuse to keep up with sports.”

“C’mon,” Jeremy said, knowing this game well, changing subjects into something more normal as people entered earshot. “I’m not even asking you to keep up with sports, I’m just saying, I’d kill to go to a baseball game right about now.”

“The American Pasttime!” Soldier called from the room over.

“Exactly,” Jeremy agreed, nodding at Soldier as he also entered the kitchen, a half-asleep Demoman in tow.

“Any ghosties or ghoulies on the cameras last night, lad?” Demo had enough energy to ask, blinking blearily at the contents of the fridge.

“Oh, a billion,” Jeremy said.

“Guard!” Soldier barked, the most awake person in the room. “Should these ghost-ghouls appear again, don’t be afraid to point me in their direction! I have significant experience with them already and do not fear the likes of them!”

“Yeah sure,” Jeremy shrugged.

“You’re a champion, Guard,” Demo said with what was either a really disoriented blink or a wink, slugging him on the shoulder and wandering back out into the common room with the entire carton of milk in his other hand. Jeremy gave him a mock-salute that Soldier copied with absolute conviction. He and Dad shared a glance after the two of them left, and Jeremy was the first one to break, snickering under his breath.

“I’ll look into it,” Dad said, and also left the kitchen, and Jeremy nodded and started trying to remember what else he’d been planning on doing before bed.

“So,” Dad said a few days later, materializing next to Jeremy when he was in the middle of his jog and making him almost jump out of his skin, skidding to a stop.

“You’re enjoying that new watch way too much,” Jeremy panted, out of breath and still very much startled.

“Maybe,” Dad said, and he was smiling. “But as I was saying.”

“All you said was ‘so’,” Jeremy pointed out, giving him a look.

“There’s a juvenile joke here about how I’m your father and so of course I say ‘so’, but if you wouldn’t mind it, I did have something important to say, mon lapin,” Dad replied, and Jeremy rolled his eyes hard at the horrible joke and cheesy name, fighting back a smile of his own.

“Go for it,” he said, and took the opportunity to bend and tighten his shoelaces.

“So. Regarding that Scout and his habits. You mentioned he spends time in blind spots of the cameras, oui?” Dad asked.

“Yeah. Keeps, uh, I guess he keeps getting infractions for going off base too much, too. I’ve logged him leaving like three times this week already,” Jeremy nodded.

“Indeed. Well, considering how new we are to the team, I did not want to jump to conclusions, and so contacted Miss Pauling and asked on your behalf for any older records, and I found out something very... intriguing.”

Jeremy looked up at him, blinking. ‘Intriguing’, historically, had always been a very, very bad thing.

“Apparently, it has been two years since they last had a Guard situated on base. The previous one was a much older gentleman, retired from being a full member of the team due to health complications but not entirely ready to part with the company. The previous guard was somewhat strict, and the Scout—the same as we have now—very much disliked the man. He continued acquiring near-constant infractions under the man’s watch for leaving when he was not meant to, so much so that the previous Guard proposed enstating trackers on the team when they went off-base. And before this policy could take hold, the previous Guard left the base one day and did not return, and finally was found dead a state over, one month later.”

Jeremy blinked once, twice. “Holy shit,” he said, and took note of the wary look on his face. “Okay. So we’re thinkin’ the same thing, right?”

“I would assume so. And…” Dad hesitated, moved to fidget with his cufflinks. “And I would not be particularly concerned about this, as I’m confident that you wouldn’t have gotten his attention from what you’ve been up to lately, and therefore wouldn’t be in danger yet should history attempt to repeat itself, but… he’s already taken a disliking to you.”

“What?” he asked, eyebrows shooting up.

“I believe it’s something as simple as some sort of shallow jealousy. Another American on the team, also relatively young, filling the position of someone he disliked previously. He regularly complains about the fact that you don’t need to go do the same job as the rest of us.” Dad shrugged, glanced over at him. “That, combined with the fact that you have somewhat conflicting duties, well, he tends to rather tetchy. He claims that considering he’s meant to be the first line of defense, they shouldn’t also need a guard at night.”

Jeremy had a number of opinions about that, but he stuck to the most relevant ones. “I really don’t like this guy,” he said. “Might be, uh. Worth keeping an eye on.”

“Agreed.” Dad glanced back over his shoulder towards the base, then at his watch. “Enjoy the rest of your run. Don’t forget to eat.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, hit the bricks already, old man,” Jeremy scoffed, waving him off, and Dad rolled his eyes, disappearing again in a cloud of smoke. “You’re gonna be using that thing all the damn time now, aren’t you?”

“Oui,” came a voice from nowhere, and Jeremy huffed a laugh, meandering his way back into the rest of his jog.

Jeremy hummed along to the radio, flicking between cameras on autopilot and wondering when exactly to take his lunch break.

He didn’t face the clock or anything, so he wasn’t sure, but he thought he had a pretty solid rhythm at that point. Click, click, click, between the camera to the road, the camera to the main entrance, and the camera in the hall towards the middle of the building, for about one second each. At just about any time after 11 or 11:30, those were the only three in real time that he needed to keep an eye on, mostly for people coming back late from bar hopping or if Miss Pauling was rolling in on a delivery. All the other cameras he could see out of the corner of his eye, and any movement he’d pick up on pretty quick, even if it was usually just the doves fluttering on the camera to the Medbay. After he cycled through those (and there was almost never anything there) he’d cycle back through to the tape he had in, put it on high speed, and watch it for about two or three minutes, get through a chunk of that time. Mostly he’d just be making sure nobody had been in the base while the team was away ni o(which indeed there never was), so there wasn’t much of a reason to take it off high speed, and the second part of the night would be watching the tapes for the time the team was back on base.

Movement on a camera made him click the pause, and he glanced off to the side. One of the doves had shuffled to face the other direction. He rolled his eyes, looking back at the bigger monitor again and pressing play.

The second half of the night was a little more interesting. He just had to look at the tapes for the time the team was there, check for discrepancies that might point to Dad messing with the disguise technology off-the-clock or the enemy Spy having infiltrated. For the most part things were straightforward, but he at least got to see his teammates up to funny things sometimes. Pyro’s antics were usually entertaining. Soldier he only caught some of, on the basis of him often walking off out of range of the cameras when he went on his excursions. Demo was funny sometimes. Honestly, just seeing the Sniper anywhere but as a fuzzy distant shape was interesting.

Movement on a camera. Same dove. He ignored it. Click, click, click, all three cameras clear, back to the fast-forward of the same empty hallway as before.

He really needed to figure something out, for the Scout. Maybe he and Dad were just being paranoid. It would be insane for him to try to outright kill anyone who inconvenienced him, not to mention reckless, and stupid to boot. Acting like that in their line of work would make him a lot of enemies extremely quickly. It would make more sense for the old Guard disappearing to be unrelated, to be honest.

Yeah. Hell, he barely knew the guy, and here he was assuming he’d straight up whacked a guy for getting a little too on his case about something. Maybe they were wrong.

Movement on a camera. He glanced over and froze outright.

It took him five seconds to come to his senses enough to pause the playback on his screen.

Figures. Shapes. Not at the front entrance, in the hallway, there next to the back way, by the garage. At least three, moving carefully, hard to make out in the darkness.

Okay. Okay, don’t panic, focus.

Jeremy ran through a few things in his head. He’d already done a headcount, the only people he wasn’t sure about were the Sniper and the Medic, but he hadn’t seen the Medic in any of the hallways out of the infirmary. Three figures were two too many to be any of the team, and besides that, they didn’t look like the Medic. Too short to be the Sniper, moving differently. Different clothes.

Three people. He hopped up, rushed over to the wall, yanked open the panel he had there. Three buttons, which he needed to hit in order. The first would send an alert to Miss Pauling, the second to whoever was assigned to be on alert that night, the third would set off the alarm.

He hit the first, hit the second, and hesitated on the third.

Okay. Technically if he didn’t hit that third button, he’d be breaking protocol, which was, according to the manual, ‘grounds for termination’. He was pretty sure that meant a long swim with some concrete shoes. And it was apparently recorded every time he hit these buttons, so they could deduct from his pay on false alerts. So they’d know if he didn’t hit this third button. He needed to think fast.

This was a different button than the alert button. The alert was more subtle, set for just one person. The alarm was throughout the entire base, over every loudspeaker. Louder than a fire alarm. If he hit this one, these intruders would hear that there was an alarm going off. Anyone smart would book it, high tail it the hell out of there. But he still didn’t know where they came from.

There hadn’t been movement on any of the screens, and he looked at the camera feed facing the road already, a few times even. He should’ve seen them. And if they found their way in once, they could do it again.

If he didn’t hit the button, on the other hand, whoever was on alert would wake up and wonder why they’d gotten an alert but the alarm wasn’t going off. If they were clever, which they probably were if they’d lasted this long, they’d come to the security room to see what was up and they could work from there.

He closed the panel again and moved to wait.

A minute later, still no movement from the hallway where most of the rooms were. That was fine, they’d just woken up, and probably needed to get dressed and grab their guns.

Another minute later, no movement, which was fair, they just needed a second to get their bearings. The intruders, meanwhile, were just lurking, slowly making their way down the hall.

Another minute later, no movement, and he opened the panel to press the button again before he continued waiting. Maybe they didn’t hear him the first time.

Another minute later and he took to standing next to the panel, mashing the button rapidly, eyes on the screen where the intruders were passing the kitchen, starting to get pretty far into the building.

Another minute later and he stomped his way into his sneakers, grabbing his flashlight and gun and guard cap from where they were hung on the wall. “Fine, I’ll fucking do it myself,” he grumbled, and carefully shouldered open the door, taking one last glance at the camera before he shut the door behind himself.

He kept his footsteps quiet, squinting into the darkness, waiting for his eyes to finish adjusting as he crept towards where he’d last seen the figures. It was near-silent in the base at night except for the distant, quiet hum of generators and occasional shift of plumbing. It was getting more and more familiar, and he found himself able to tune it out somewhat, instead listening intently for footsteps besides his own, making sure to click the safety off his gun while he was still alone and not when he was close to whoever had decided to break in.

Okay. Dad did this all the time. He could handle this.

He slowed as he approached the corner near the kitchen, peering around as carefully as he could, tugging down the brim of his cap to try and hide any potential shine from his eyes. He caught sight of a vague shape standing near the doorway, hesitating before it crept inside, into the common area.

Not ideal, on the basis of that being their goddamn kitchen, but at least there would be cover.

By the time he managed to sneak up to the doorway, he could make out the sound of vague whispering. It was far enough that it gave him the boldness to peer into the room, and just slightly lit by the glow of the clock on the oven he could see two shapes there in the kitchen, the third lingering nearer to him, there by the table.

Jeremy was only just starting to make a plan, relieved to have the jump on them, when there was the distant sound of a generator humming to life, and all the figures stopped, paused for a moment.

“Fucking spooky here,” one whispered, barely audible.

“Calm down,” another whispered. “What, scared of ghosts?”

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, shifted onto the balls of his feet and started creeping a little further into the room. If he could just get all three of them to one side, so he wouldn’t need to pivot so much…

“You don’t know, maybe there’s ghosts here,” the first protested, and swore quietly at what sounded like their winging their elbow against the corner of the tale, and Jeremy tried to stick near the wall, managed to creep half-behind one of the chairs, trying to keep his silhouette indistinct. “These guys kill people.”

“So do we,” the third mumbled, moving out of sight in the kitchen, and Jeremy bit down on a swear, starting to inch behind the couch. “Don’t be a coward. And stop making so much noise.”

“You can’t shoot a ghost,” the first pointed out, moving a bit closer to the kitchen, giving the table a wide berth now. “Or punch it.”

“I can try,” the second said, and stopped at the sound of a rustle.

Jeremy held his breath, weight half-balanced against where he’d tried to step, newspaper trapped beneath his foot.

“That one wasn’t me,” the first whispered. There was another, more significant rustle throughout the room, and Jeremy could see a glint as the intruders drew their weapons.

Jeremy inhaled, exhaled, and just barely managed not to swear out loud.

The first one was the closest by, lingering beside the arm of the couch Jeremy was crouched in the shadow of. “Do they have a cat here?” they asked, voice quiet.

The second was approaching into the main room more carefully. From the sound of the footsteps, trying to keep a shoulder closer to the wall, clearly paying more attention to the door. “Are you stupid or something?” was the reply, voice also quiet.

The third didn’t speak, but huffed out a laugh, which was enough to tell Jeremy that he was out of the kitchen.

Jeremy inhaled shakily, exhaled shakily, shifted his grip on his handgun and flashlight, and took a split second to think. Inhaled one more time.

He leapt to his feet, swinging his flashlight like a billy club and clobbering the first figure across the side of the head, sending them tumbling to the ground. From the sound of the impact, a dislocated jaw at the very least. One down.

A shout from the other side of the room, arms moving to try to aim, clearly struggling to see him, but that third figure was in the doorway, silhouetted against the faint light from the oven’s clock, and that was enough to figure out where the head and chest were. He aimed, fired, got what he was pretty sure was the neck considering the brief spray of blood that splattered against the oven, darkening the room completely.

A swear from the second figure, and Jeremy wanted to swear too, because he’d hoped that second figure would be stupid and try and charge him, but now he was ten steps away and didn’t have time to fiddle with and cock the gun again, other hand full with a flashlight and no way to—

Oh, duh.

“Stay where you are,” the second figure ordered, but Jeremy’s eyes were a little better adjusted and besides that, he wasn’t the one talking. He lifted his flashlight and clicked it on.

The second figure cried out, recoiling at the sudden blindingly bright light in what had been near-darkness, and Jeremy had time to finagle his thumb up to cock his gun again, now able to aim with absolute accuracy, this shot connecting with the figure’s head.

He exhaled.

It took Jeremy two minutes to remember to fire a bullet into the chest of the unconscious guy, and another minute for the other mercenaries to start showing up, half-dressed and armed. Dad, presumably to prove a point, showed up pretty close to the middle of the pack almost fully dressed. Jeremy wasn’t entirely sure how long it took before Miss Pauling showed up, but he wasn’t even halfway through their questions by that time.

“Guard, headcount?” she asked before she even bothered saying hello, still wearing her motorcycle helmet and looking more than a little bit miffed.

“Uh,” he said, eyes drawn away from where Medic was assessing the bodies on the kitchen table, “seven present and accounted for. Sniper’s probably out at his van, don’t know about the Scout.”

“Alright. Pyro,” she said, and Pyro stood at attention, bunny slippers squeaking at the movement. “go wake up Sniper and get him in here.”

Pyro nodded, handing their weird unicorn plushie thing to Jeremy as they passed by, giving him a solemn nod before hurrying away.

“Okay. Guard, hit me with a rundown, then,” she said, and shot a glance around the room. “No peanut gallery needed. And Medic, please don’t take them apart too much. I gotta get rid of those later.”

“Uh. Spotted these guys on the cameras, hit the first and second alerts,” Jeremy said.

“And not the third?” she asked pointedly.

“They were, like, right next to the door, and—here’s the thing, Miss P, is I dunno how the hell they got in here,” he said, and there was a general balk from the room. “No, seriously. They didn’t come in on the main road, they were in one of the back hallways by the garage. There’s gotta be a hole in the cameras or something, because I seriously don’t know where they came from. And if they booked it, they’d take whatever vehicle they used to get here, too, and we might not figure it out. Thought I’d just wait for whoever the hell was supposed to be on alert so we could… I dunno, at least see which way they went.”

“Guard,” she admonished, and he shrank a little bit. “That was incredibly reckless. What if nobody had shown up to help you?”

“Uh,” he said, blinked, “but… nobody did show up.”

A pause. She blinked. “What? You’re the one who did that?” she asked, entirely shocked, pointing towards the three bodies on the table.

“Uh, yeah? Isn’t that my job?” he asked carefully, shifting the stuffed animal under his arm.

“No, you’re—you’re just supposed to be the Guard, you’re supposed to watch cameras, not—“ She paused, taking a second to push up her glasses and rub at the bridge of her nose, inhaling, exhaling. “Okay. Points for… going above and beyond, here, but Guard, don’t do that again.”

“Sure thing, Miss P,” he mumbled, tugging on the brim of his guard cap, and sighed to himself as Miss Pauling moved away to try and stop Medic from attempting to covertly steal a few organs from the corpses. Dad clapped him on the shoulder supportively, and that did make him feel a little better. He wasn’t expecting a clap to the other shoulder, and looked up, surprised to see Heavy there, looking just slightly less grim than usual.

“Little Guard man is credit to team,” he said simply, solemnly.

Jeremy straightened up slightly. “Oh. Hey, thanks,” he said. Heavy nodded at him.

“It’s true,” Demo called, and he looked over, got another approving nod. “Really saved the lot of us, lad.”

“I, I mean, hey, it’s… what I’m here for. Or, uh. I thought that was it, anyways,” he shrugged, glancing away. “I mean, yeah, I’m pretty cool, though.”

Dad bumped his arm for the last part, and he snickered. “My question,” Dad continued, doing his best to ignore him, “is primarily regarding who, precisely, was supposed to be present to help Guard with this. Who is meant to be on alert?”

“It’s meant to be Scout, ain’t it?” the Engineer asked from nearby, frowning. A general murmur of agreement. “Could he have slept through it?”

“Heavy doubts this,” Heavy grumbled, looking troubled.

“Why’re we awake?” asked Sniper from the doorway, and various teammates called out a greeting. Sniper seemed half-gone, and completely grumpy, but not as grumpy as Pyro, and not nearly as gone as the man leaning heavily against Pyro’s shoulder.

“Hey,” the Scout managed, grinning, speech garbled, visibly sloppy and unbalanced. “What’s up, guys?”

Groans from parts of the room. “Drinkin’ again, Scout?” the Engineer drawled, visibly irritated.

“That’s my trademark, lad, go on,” Demo laughed, but the enthusiasm wasn’t entirely there.

“Scout,” Miss Pauling said, voice firm in a way that made Jeremy almost flinch in sympathy. “Are you aware that we’ve had a situation here while you’ve been sleeping?”

“Weren’t sleeping,” Sniper murmured, and eyes turned to him. He scratched at the back of his neck. “Came stumbling in ‘round when I was heading in. He was out for the night. Bar, looks like.”  “What?” Jeremy demanded. “Why the fuck didn’t I see him leave on the cameras?”

“Alright,” Miss Pauling said, and Jeremy looked at her. Her expression was hard to read. “It’s possible he went through the back tunnel.”

“Back tunnel?” Jeremy asked, and glanced around. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who hadn’t heard of it.

“For emergencies only. Scout’s the only one who I’ve given a key card to. I have one too. It’s supposed to be used for transporting especially sensitive information, most of the team isn’t supposed to even know it exists. If there’s a gap in the cameras around the back of the building, he might have been using it to… sneak out to go to town, even though he knows he’s already in hot water for leaving the base so much,” Miss Pauling said, glaring at Scout, who was looking increasingly annoyed.

“Whatever, it’s not a big deal,” he protested, scoffing.

“That tunnel is for emergencies only,” Miss Pauling stressed. “I trusted you with the privilege of knowing about it account of having worked here for so long, and you’re using that privilege and key card to mess around?”

“He was coming back from around the front of the building, at least,” Sniper chimed in, and Pyro nodded. “Not that I’d understand the point of sneaking out if he’s going to just walk back in the front door.”

“Key card?” Medic repeated from near the table, eyebrows furrowed.

“Yeah, it’s, it’s a magnetized card, that can be read by a card reader, used like a key,” Miss Pauling explained, deflating a little bit.

His eyebrows furrowed further. “Would it happen to look anything like this?” he asked, picking up a lanyard from the table and holding it up, showing the room the card clipped onto the end of it.

Two beats of silence. “Spy, would you mind?” Miss Pauling asked politely, nodding towards the Scout, who had gone pale.

“Not at all,” Dad said just as politely, and walked over towards the Scout and Pyro, then circled around behind them, and sank a blade into the Scout’s spine. He promptly crumbled to the floor, dead.

“Well. At least that’s that mystery solved,” Miss Pauling sighed, and rubbed at the bridge of her nose again. “Now I’ve gotta block off time tomorrow to get rid of three bodies, and then hopefully that’s the last we’re gonna hear of this or else the Administrator is gonna kill me.”

“What about the Scout?” Heavy rumbled.

“…Scratch that. Four bodies,” she mumbled, face dropping into her hands. “And then I need to find his replacement. Ugh.”

“Can’t imagine you’d need to go far,” Demo said, and Jeremy looked up, and Demo was very obviously tilting a thumb in his direction.

“He’s proven himself to be better at this job,” Dad agreed, shrugging. “And I would say on a bad day he’s still a better runner than the previous Scout on a good one.”

“He can clearly handle a firearm well,” the Engineer noted, looking over one of the bodies.

“And a blunt object,” Medic chimed, just a bit too pleased. “This jaw is almost completely shattered!”

“Okay, okay, fine, sure,” Miss Pauling waved off, one hand still pressed to her face, clearly overwhelmed and tired. “We’ll get his paperwork in tomorrow. Congratulations, you’re the new Scout, any questions? Can the questions wait until morning? Great, thank you. Good night, everyone. Medic, have the bodies in bags for me at least, okay?”

A distracted thumbs up from Medic, and Miss Pauling was groaning, wandering back out of the room, and most of the team followed, yawning amongst themselves. Sniper half-attempted to ask again why the hell any of them were awake, but gave up halfway through. Pyro, for one, made sure to at least retrieve the plushie from Scout’s arms before wandering off, giving him an appreciative pat on the shoulder.

“So,” Dad said, and when he looked over, he was smiling. “A promotion, mon lapin. Congratulations, new Scout.”

“Do I gotta wear that stupid outfit he always wears?” Jeremy asked, entirely serious. His reply was a laugh and a pat on the shoulder before he disappeared in a puff of smoke. “Pops, I’m serious. Do I? Dad!?”

“—So that’s why I figured, y’know, might as well tell you guys,” Jeremy finished rambling, hands in his pockets, continuing down the hallway. “Because… I dunno. I could tell Miss P, but it’s nice having secret stuff, y’know?”

“You think this is how they actually got in?” Demo asked, looking dubious. “Little blind spot in the cameras?”

“Only a couple feet wide, you said?” Sniper grumbled.

“Sounds possible,” Heavy said hesitantly.

“I dunno. Maybe. But if I tell Miss P about it, they’re gonna fix it,” Jeremy shrugged, turning the corner and stopping. “There. I knew it.”

They stopped with him, following his line of sight. “You’re takin’ the piss, mate,” Sniper deadpanned. “You want to tell me he’d been climbing out a window like a teenager?”

Jeremy shrugged, moving to open the window in question. It swung open easily, just large enough to push through with only a little bit of a problem, barely needing to turn his shoulders. “He’s not much bigger than me, and what the hell else would he be doing here?” he pointed out.

“Heavy cannot fit through that window,” Heavy deadpanned.

“Yeah. Sorry, big guy,” Jeremy apologized, leaning back inside and closing it again. “But hey, mystery solved, right?”

“Well, if I ever need windows to climb out of, now I know just the lad for the job,” Demo said, nudging him. “Thanks, Guard. Or, er, Scout. Och, now that’s going to take getting used to, aye? Might just stick to calling you ‘laddie’, laddie.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” he laughed, nudging him right back. And as much as they ribbed him for it, he did see a kind of appreciation there. Just like he’d figured, they seemed to take note of him taking their side and not just Miss Pauling’s.

Now he just needed to switch back over to the day shift.

#father-son bonding au #dad!spy #tf2 #team fortress 2 #shut up me #my fanfiction #everybody talks #really happy with this one even if it took Way Too Fucking Long

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kjmsupremacist · 3 years ago

Text

baby, you’re my angel (chan/felix)

Mildly popular TikTok songwriter Felix meets Chan, famous on TikTok for his music and music reviews. They bond over their common ground, friendship blossoming easy and sweet. There’s two problems. One: Felix thinks he likes Chan more than just as friends. Two: Chan is almost fifteen years his senior.

Chapter 9 | prev next mlist

Characters: Felix, Chan, the rest of skz

Genre: college au, romance, fluff, smut, angst

Pairing: Chan/Felix

Warnings: swearing, age gap, angst, alcohol mentions

Rating: Mature

Length: 2.4k

just a friendly reminder that i dont condone age gap in real life, this is just fiction, im just having fun, etc :)

It’s like Felix’s world has turned monochrome. There’s safety in it, certainly; after about a week of excitement, the rumors died down and the online world went back to normal. Chan still posted some of their songs; Felix promotes them as he always would. Rachel approved this with the stipulation that they don’t talk beyond sharing files, and Chan has stuck to it dutifully.

There’s a part of Felix that’s furious about it, that it’s so easy for Chan to give him up. A particularly nasty part of him is spiteful—of course it’s easy for Chan to go back to how it was before; he’s used to heartbreak, he’s used to being alone. And maybe Felix didn’t have such a profound impact on him as he said he did. But Felix knows that’s not fair. Still, it hurts to see random clips of his other videos where he seems completely normal. When people ask about Felix, Chan doesn’t even bat an eye.

“I made him go study,” Chan says cheerfully. “He’s got finals coming up and all. Told him that just ‘cuz he’s got a job lined up doesn’t mean he can slack off now, you know? That goes for all of you out there finishing up the school year! Stop watching my videos and go study!”

It hurts like nothing else, makes Felix feel pathetic for missing him, for thinking about him all the fucking time. He wants to think it’s the same for Chan, but every day it seems like that’s less and less possible.

For the most part, though, he does try to keep his promise to Rachel. He tries not to wallow too much, tries to stay in the world. He studies, he hangs out with his friends, he goes to parties, even when all he feels like doing is curling up in a sad little ball on his bed. Every time he laughs, it feels a little hollow. But at least he’s laughing, right? He could be worse. It could be worse.

But honestly, Felix does spend a lot of time thinking about how unfair it is. His parents have a similar age gap. Sure, they met after college, when his mom was thirty-three and his dad was twenty-three, but ten years isn’t so different from fourteen. Is it? So why do his parents get to be happy, while he has to suffer? If he and Chan had only met a year or two later, people probably wouldn’t care at all.

He gets it, you know. That’s part of what attracted him to Chan in the first place, that he was older, that it’s taboo. And honestly, if he was an outsider, he would be scandalized, too. He’d be worried for himself, and vaguely disgusted with Chan. But no one knows what it’s like inside, no one but him and Chan. It’s not that Chan was waiting around to prey on someone young and vulnerable. It’s just that most people his age hadn’t gone through something like he had, so they were in a different place than he was. And sure, with time Felix thinks Chan could find someone his own age with a similar background and similar goals, but—why should he wait, when Felix is right here?

He only texts Chan once. He doesn’t know if it’s better or worse that he’s completely sober when it happens, just up late studying, and stressed and lonely, and before he can think it over, he sends I miss you, plain and simple.

Chan responds within minutes. You shouldn’t be contacting me, Felix. We both promised your sister. And you know it’s for the best.

The worst part is, even this message makes him happy—just to see Chan’s name light up his phone, to read the words in his voice.

I know, Felix replies. I’m just tired, and I miss you. That’s all.

I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough, Chan sends back, and Felix knows the conversation is over. He puts his phone down and lays his head on his desk, wrapping his arms around himself. Why is it so hard? If we can’t be together, why can’t I just be okay, and move on?

He sits there at least a half an hour, unmoving, and then resigns himself to the knowledge that he won’t be getting any more studying done tonight. Reluctantly, he drags himself to his feet, grabbing his towel so he can go wash up and get ready for bed.

He’s just putting his toiletries away when Hyunjin comes into the bathroom.

“Hey,” he says quietly as he wrestles with his shower caddy.

“Hey,” Hyunjin replies. “You okay?”

Felix is too tired to pretend. He’s tired and he feels empty and alone, and everything hurts, and he just wants comfort. He turns, dropping his hands to his sides. “No,” he whispers.

Hyujin wraps his arms around Felix, tugging him close, resting his chin on top of his head. Felix hugs him back, squeezing tight. “I’m sorry,” Hyunjin whispers back. “I’m so sorry, Felix.”

Felix can’t help it; he bursts into tears, hiding his face in Hyunjin’s collarbone. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles.

“No, it’s okay,” Hyunjin says. “Wanna come sleep in my room tonight? We can watch a kid’s movie or something, and I have sour gummies that need eating.” He jostles Felix a little. “Whaddya say?”

Felix sniffles wetly, trying to get his breathing under control. “Yeah,” he says in a very small voice. “That’d be really nice, actually.”

“Okay. My door’s unlocked,” Hyunjin says, patting him on the back and then releasing him. “I’m gonna pee and then I’ll come back, ‘kay?”

“‘Kay,” Felix agrees, furiously wiping his eyes and scurrying out of the bathroom before someone else can see him crying.

Hyunjin’s room is clean and dark. His TV is pulsing through screensavers, and he has the strip of LEDs over his bed set to a soft, pleasant lilac. In the corner, a painting dries; Felix realizes it’s of all of them—him and Jisung and Seungmin and Jeongin, and Hyunjin, too, a smaller figure in the back. It’s of them on the beach during their little trip. They’re all laughing, and their hair is messy, their faces bright with sunlight. A new kind of melancholy weaves its way into the empty maze in Felix’s heart.

He hops up onto his bed, snuggling under the blankets, huddling against the wall. He pats around for the remote and starts scrolling Disney+ while he waits. Only a few minutes pass before Hyunjin returns, closing the door with a soft click. He smiles when he sees Felix, nearly buried in blankets.

“Comfy?” he asks. “Want chips, too? I have barbecue flavor ones.”

“Yes please,” Felix says quietly. “Let’s watch Tangled.”

Hyunjin giggles. “Sure, but you have to give your absolute best performance of Mother Knows Best.”

“Deal.” Felix finds himself smiling, too.

Later that night, curled up in the warm dark of Hyunjin’s bed, Hyunjin breathing deep and steady beside him, Felix has to admit that he feels better. He and Hyunjin have been like this since they were young, always close, always cuddly. It’s the familiarity of it, he supposes, the knowing that despite all the things that will change, there are some things that will stay the same. He falls asleep with his limbs tangled in Hyunjin’s, with Hyunjin’s fingers tangled in his hair.

When Jisung finds them in the morning, he laughs. “You’re like puppies,” he says, climbing into bed with them amid sleepy protests. “So cute.”

“Don’t let Seungmin hear you,” Hyunjin mumbles, and Felix giggles, even as one of Jisung’s misplaced elbows nearly collapses his lung.

They’re a couple weeks out from graduation now, and things are, despite everything, wrapping up pretty nicely. Though Felix really is at his wits’ end on all fronts, he has always been good at school, so his grades are somehow fine. On the last day of classes, he throws his work aside and heads to a big party up on the roof of one of the dorms. The air is warm and mild—summer is just around the corner, and everyone can feel it.

Felix is dancing in a crowd when he feels a hand on his arm. He turns, surprised, and finds himself looking at Wooyoung. He’s wearing a tank top and pretty jewelry and a handsome smile. “Hey,” he says. “Haven’t seen you around recently.”

“Been studying,�� Felix replies, offering an apologetic smile in return.

“What for?” Wooyoung laughs. “We’re about to graduate. And you’re smart, no way you’re failing out now.”

Felix shrugs. “What if I do, you know?”

“That’s fair,” Wooyoung concedes. “Just, you know, glad to see you now.”

“Yeah?” Felix’s heart rate picks up.

“Yeah.” Wooyoung steps closer. “I’ve been trying to get your attention all year, you know.”

“Ah,” Felix says. “What… about San-hyung?”

Wooyoung giggles, waving him off. “We’ve been on a break, since he graduated and all, right?” He nudges Felix. “Not asking you for anything serious; we’re about to graduate, too. Just wanted to see if you were interested.”

Felix really considers it for a split second. It would be nice, maybe, and Wooyoung is really hot. If it weren’t for Chan, Felix might have even gone for it in the fall. But then he stops himself. He knows in the end, it’ll only make him feel worse. Besides, it’s not fair to Wooyoung. Even if it is some casual, one-night thing, he won’t let himself make Wooyoung a stand-in for who he’s really missing.

He takes a breath, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, dude, but I just… can’t, you know? I’m sorry, it’s not—I mean, I just can’t. Not with you, not with anyone.”

Wooyoung only smiles. “Nah, it’s cool, I get it,” he says easily, and Felix nearly goes limp with relief. He didn’t think Wooyoung would try to force him at all, he just didn’t want to hurt his feelings. But Wooyoung doesn’t seem hurt. “No worries. I’d much rather you be honest with me.”

Felix nods. “Hyunjin would say yes, I think, if you asked,” he suggests, and Wooyoung smiles wider.

“Thanks for the tip,” he giggles. “I might.”

“Can I ask,” Felix begins, “why you and San decided to go on a break? You don’t have to answer, I just—I don’t know, I thought you guys were in love.”

“We were,” Wooyoung says with a shrug. “Still are, unless I’m mistaken. But, you know, I didn’t want to tie San down, and he didn’t want to pull me away from my senior year. So we agreed, a break and limited contact, so that I could enjoy the rest of college wholeheartedly, and he could get a real start on his life.”

“Do you think you’ll get back together?” Felix asks. “After?”

“I think so.” Wooyoung’s expression softens. “I think… he’s it for me, you know? But since we’re sort of in different stages of our lives, we thought it would be best to grow independently first.” He looks at Felix. “And I don’t regret it, I think it was good for us.” Felix’s heart sort of sinks. Of course they would, of course it’s natural to want different things when you’re not in the same place. Maybe he’s just delusional.

But then Wooyoung continues, “But also… I think sometimes when you’ve found something good, you just know. I think this break was good because I knew at the end, I’d still probably go back to him. It’s not that I have to spend the rest of my life with him to be happy or something. It’s just that I’d really rather it be him than anyone else.” He shrugs again, just one shoulder this time, light humor working its way back into his tone. “But that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun in the meantime. I’m gonna go find Hyunjin, if that’s okay.”

Felix smiles. “Yeah,” he says. “That’s okay.”

He retreats into one of the rooms to get another drink, then perches on the sill of one of the open windows, soles of his shoes brushing the rooftop. He envies Wooyoung and San. They know they’ll have each other to go back to. Felix wishes he were so lucky. But the thing is, he doubts he and Chan will be anywhere as close as they were ever again. He lets out a little resigned sigh.

Around him, laughter swells, drowning out even the loud thumping of music. Felix watches his classmates and finds himself overwhelmed by emotion. Holy shit, he thinks. It’s over. Sure, they have finals still to fight through, and a couple weeks until graduation, but it’s over. The last dregs of his childhood, if there were still any left, are gone. And it’s really exciting, to be moving on to bigger things, to get to grow up and live, and he knows it’s going to be really good, but he’s also so, so, so fucking sad.

☼ ☼ ☼

Soon, sooner than Felix could have even imagined, finals are over and the only stressor they have left is packing up their entire lives in time for move out. They’ve all started solidifying plans—Felix and Jisung start at the same label in early July, while Hyunjin and Seungmin will spend the summer continuing their job search. They try on their caps and gowns together one night when they’re all tired of packing; Jeongin comes to scrutinize.

“This is you in a year, Jeonginnie,” Hyunjin teases as he surveys his reflection.

“I can’t believe you’re leaving me,” Jeongin says. “All of you! Leaving me all alone.”

“You have friends your age,” Jisung points out lightly. “What about Sungchan, and Ryujin and Chaeryeong? You won’t be alone.”

“Yeah,” Jeongin says, “but it’s not the same. It’ll never be the same again.”

The room goes quiet for a moment.

“Yeah,” Felix says softly. “That’s true.”

“I’m scared,” Seungmin confesses, fussing with his tassel. “The real world is scary. What if we don’t survive out there?”

Jisung laughs. “Oh, come on,” he says. “I think we’re gonna be just fine.”

“Easy for you to say,” Hyunjin says, scrunching his nose. “You have a job.”

“And you will too,” Felix retorts, poking him. “And besides, I mean… it has to end sometime, right?”

“Yeah,” Seungmin agrees. “Just wish it wasn’t so soon.”

“You could’ve flunked all your finals,” Jeongin suggests. “And then you could stay another semester.”

The four of them groan. “Don’t even joke about that!” Jisung admonishes.

The evening before graduation, Felix is putting a few final things into boxes when his phone pings across the room. Curious, he seals a box and picks his way over to his bed where his phone is sitting on the charger.

It’s a text from Rachel. Felix’s heart hammers in his chest, stomach swooping low with anxiety. He reads it again and again, frozen in fear and anticipation, fingers hovering over the glowing screen.

Hey, I know you’re busy packing, but call me before you go to bed? I have something I need to tell you.

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hauntedbythefanficsofmypast · 5 years ago

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Betrothal Pt. 2

When Marinette receives Tikki she is freaked out at first but quickly has her explain what she can do as Ladybug, before transforming and taking the Akuma out easily without Chats help.

She still does the speech to Paris after taking out Hawkmoth's butterfly face thingy.

Alix and Nathaniel are already in her bedroom by the time she gets back, both immediately knowing that Ladybug was their Marinette.

The next day Marinette has Alya claiming they were best friends, she decides to give the girl a chance but doesn't actually bring her into her personal friend group. Plus she really doesnt like that Alya 100% believes that she has a crush on Adrien, all because she had a picture from his recent shoot that she was going to put on her inspiration board.

Alya ignores that and gets all the girls except Alix in on trying to get them together. Marinette continuously tries to get them to stop but after a while she gives up.

Marinette also goes over footage of her fights pointing out to Tikki how under trained Chat Noir is.

"Tikki I'm not doing this because I want a new partner. I'm doing this because I don't want him to die, which he will if we don't train him properly! Stop thinking about this so-called Guardian and think about Chat Noir's life!"

Tikki relents and the next night she and Chat have a heart to heart. She explains to him that she isnt in love with him and won't be, she tells him she's been betrothed since birth. At first Chat points out that the holders are supposed to be soulmates, but Ladybug points out that if anything they are platonic soulmates. She tells him that she wants them to know each other's identities because they are partners and they need to trust each other with their lives. She tells him she'll only allow it if he agrees to begin training with her. Chat Noir agrees and they reveal themselves both a little shocked.

The next day Adrien quits Fencing without telling his father or Nathalie and goes to Marinette's house to begin training with her, Alix, and Nathaniel.

Adrien realizes after a month that he only thinks of Marinette as a sister. He starts to get annoyed when the boys, except Nathaniel, try pushing him to ask her out.

When it's almost summer Marinette tells Tikki that she is going to Gotham for the summer. Tikki goes to the Guardian and Fu gives her Kaalki in order for Marinette to travel back and forth for attacks.

When the school year ends Marinette's mother is waiting in the car with Marinette's bags on the last day. She kisses Alix Adrien and Nathaniel's cheeks telling them to keep training while she is gone, and promises to be safe. The rest of the class quickly surrounds her asking where she's going and why she isn't spending the summer with them.

"I'm going to Gotham. I go every other year, this is nothing new. I've been doing this for years."

Alya makes a big stink about her 'bestie' leaving and the class tries to convince her to stay. This upsets Alix and Nathaniel, both know the class never cared before, they didn't even help stand up to bullies. Adrien himself wants her to stay but he can see how much she wants to see Damian, so he just kisses her cheeks gently and wishes her a safe trip before opening the door for her. Marinette thanks him as she gets in waving goodbye to her friends before they drive away.

During the school year Damian meets and befriends Jon Kent. At first they dont get along but Damian warms up to him. Damian is proud of Marinette when she becomes a hero, and that their friends are training hard to be ones as well. He even gets permission from Bruce to allow Marinette to train and patrol with them.

Dick and Damian pick Marinette up from the airport and soon everyone in Gotham is talking about Marinette being back. What's even more talked about over the summer is the small dates the two begin to go on.

Halfway through the summer Damian admits to Marinette that he is in love with her and that even if they weren't betrothed he'd still want to marry her. Marinette kisses him softly telling him that she feels exactly the same.

Marinette is excited when she first patrols Gotham with Damian and Dick by her side taking the name Bluebird.

Bluebird mainly patrols with Nightwing, they both take on Bludhaven side by side. Bluebird patrols with Robin and Batman every Sunday. Her mandatory night off is on Friday with Robin both of them labeling it their date nights.

Soon after making her debut as Bluebird Marinette discovers Tiktok, and a treasure trove of videos featuring the Wayne family and the Batfamily. She immediately creates two Tiktoks after getting a second phone under a fake identification. This phone is strictly for Bluebird, and so is the Tiktok.

Marinette's favorite Tiktoks are the ones saying that Bruce Wayne is Batman because the butts match. Her Tiktok blows up when her first video is posted.

It starts off with Marinette smiling at the camera with Damian and Bruce standing behind her. When Bruce turns around she gasps opening her eyes widely and whispers to the camera. "Omg...the butts match!"

Marinette continues to make videos of the entire family without any of them noticing, both as Marinette and Bluebird. Both accounts are verified within a week. She posts multiple videos a day all featuring a different member.

The most popular video of Dick is him hanging upside down from a chandelier all smiles while Damian is a few feet away looking up at him.

Damian-It's going to fall.

Dick-No after the first couple times Dad got this one reinforced so it wouldn't.

Tim walked past literally drinking from a coffee pot-No he got the one near the West sitting room reinforced.

Dick looks up when the ceil creaks and a second layer he and the chandelier are falling

Dick-Shi-!!

The video then cuts off.

Jason's most popular video is him blindfolded as he puts a gun back together in seconds not knowing Bruce is behind him.

Jason- Impressive right?

Bruce- I thought I said no guns in the manor

Jason screams before calming down- Oh its you I thought it was Alfred.

Alfred- Master Jason

Jason screams and tries to run with the blindfold still on but runs into a wall.

Tim's popular video is multiple clips of Tim right as he passes out and falls with a loud thump. After three clips people here three voices yelling Timber in the background after he faints. The last video shows Tim knocking over a bookcase only to look at Marinette confused when he hears Timber screamed from three different parts of the manor.

( @daddybats-and-babybirds Hello! So I saw your headcanon a while back and really liked it. If you're seeing this I tried to find you on Tumblr to ask for permission but couldn't. If you don't want me using this please message me and I will remove it immediately! Thank you!)

Cass's popular video is very sweet. It's different clips of her taking care of and spending time with her family. The first clip is her slowly reading aloud curled up next to Bruce, the next is her pushing a chair underneath Dick as he goes to sit down after Jason pulled the other one out without him realizing. Third is her gently cleaning a cut Jason got after falling from a tree. Fourth is her covering Tim with a blanket and moving his work onto the table. Fifth is her painting Stephanie's nails while Barbara does Stephanie's hair for a date. Six is her carefully moving Damian to his room trying not to wake him up. Seven is her helping Alfred during spring cleaning, and eighth is her posing in some of Marinette's clothes as the boys help with lighting and Stephanie takes the pictures.

Bluebird's Tiktok features a lot of videos of her flipping around and laughing wildly as a few older villains run away yelling about the second coming of the first Robin. After every one of those videos another is posted of Nightwing bent over cackling at what the villains yelled. Everyone in Gotham is thrilled when it's confirmed that Nightwing is actually the first Robin, all recognizing the cackle. A few videos feature the Batfamily arguing through body gestures without saying anything, she'll flip the camera around to show her grinning and writing will pop up saying what they were arguing about. Most of the time is about getting food while on patrol, but one time Red Hood insulted Nightwings butt. The two most popular videos are one where she is a few feet behind Batman and all you see is his cape and head, and she has "Bruce Wayne???" written in. The second is Red Robin sitting in the back of an ambulance with a shock blanket around his shoulders.

Red Robin- What now? I'm in shock! Look I've got a blanket!

Batman- Red Robin!

Red Robin- And I just delivered twins while stuck in an elevator! Twins Batman!!

Batman turns and walks away silently while Red Robin looks at the paramedic.

Red Robin- Im going to regret that during training tomorrow.

The only time Bluebird makes noise during a Tiktok is when she is laughing wildly. She does this because both her Tiktoks are popular and she doesn't want to take the chance of someone recognizing her voice. She is not worried about the wild laughter because she is calmer as Marinette but as Bluebird she lets herself be wild and carefree. Batman enjoys having Bluebird on patrol with him, her hero persona reminds him of when he and the first Robin started.

Marinette announces that her and Damian are finally dating in a Tiktok showing them on a date at the parks with Barbara and Dick as their 'chaperones'. The video shows her holding his hand walking behind him before she flips the camera and winks at it, in the background walking behind them is Dick pushing Barbara's wheelchair, while looking down at her lovingly.

An hour later Marinette is recording a video where they had been pulled over by Commissioner Gordon himself. Dick is pale as he nods to everything Gordon says while Barbara is groaning refusing to even acknowledge her dad. Before the video cuts out she whispers, 'I forgot a lot of Gotham officers follow me, oops…'

The family also helped Marinette master the art of coming up with excuses and slip out without being noticed, for when she has to rush back to Paris.

The family celebrates their birthday together before having a Gala the night after celebrating it for the cameras. The family shows up wearing Marinette's own designs and she is buzzing with excitement when multiple people ask for the designer's information for commissions, they turn 14.

When summer is coming to an end Marinette really doesn't want to leave but she knows she must. Marinette promises to visit for Christmas.

When she returns she is excited to see Alix, Nathaniel and Adrien at the airport with Gorilla to pick her up. Adrien smiles mischievously, telling her that his father agreed after Adrien mentioned that his friend was a rising Fashion designer, MDC.

Marinette enjoys her first day back spending it with her friends. The next day she is slightly annoyed when Alya bursts into her room at 7 in the morning demanding details about her trip and if she met anyone famous.

Marinette decided in that moment that she was very thankful she never shared her Insta with Alya and that Alya doesn't know about Tiktok. She does however indulge the girl telling her she had a lot of fun and tells her some of what she did. Alya is quick to tell her all about what the class did together and what she did over the summer. However her tune changes when she sees a few pictures of Adrien pinned to a board, and suddenly she's once again trying to come up with ideas to get them together. At this point Marinette is thankful when her mother comes up, asking Alya to leave so that Marinette can help with chores.

The school year starts the same as always and Marinette decides to run for class president. She is surprised when she wins and names Nathaniel her vice president much to Alya's annoyance.

Marinette also meets Jagged Stone only a month into the school year after designing glasses and an album cover for him. At first Jagged doesn't realize the rockin' girl that made his glasses was MDC until at a party when someone excitedly points out the MDC signature on the side. He begins talking to her more with her parents permission and takes her in as his new niece. Soon he is only wearing clothes that she makes.

Half way through the year Lila shows up. The class sans Mari, Adrien, Alix, Nathaniel, and Chloe are all taken by her immediately. Marinette is not there the day she arrives.Lila attempts to lie her way into Adrien's graces using her Ladybug excuse. But Adrien quickly tells her that he doesn't want to hear it, because there is no way Ladybug would let her defenseless or possibly disabled friends know her Identity out of fear they'd get targeted.

Lila is outraged that her lie failed, but she wants Adrien under her thumb and starts devising a plan for it to happen.

The next day Lila tries to charm Marinette when she is upset over her desk being switched without even asking her. When everyone heads out for lunch she quickly snatches up Marinette apologizing and selling her sob story of Jagged's kitten. She is shocked when Marinette begins to laugh and tells her that it was a nice try but Jagged Stone has a crocodile named Fang because he is allergic to fur. Lila gets even madder and decides to just threaten Marinette telling her that she'd take away all of the class. Marinette just rolls her eyes and tells her good luck with that before walking away to join her friends.

When the four return from lunch they find Lila sitting and crying with the class surrounding her as Alya comforts her.

Lila is quick to claim that Marinette refused to listen to her when she tried to explain the seat switch and that instead she made fun of Lila's disabilities. Alya is upset at Marinette and tells her that she is disappointed that her best friend would act like this and that she needs to give Lila a chance.

Marinette just signs walking back to her new seat and sits down, Adrien follows her up and sits next to her while Alix and Nathaniel take the bench in front of them.

Alya huffs continuing to comfort Lila until she finally stops fake crying, the rest of the class sits down in their seats and starts talking again. However they don't talk to the four

As Lila is there she slowly learns more and more about Adrien and Marinette planning on getting Adrien under her thumb and to take Marinette out. She learns about Marinette's huge crush, Alya's words, on Adrien and that Adrien's dad is so strict that he won't even let him have a birthday party. She begins studying the two of them before making her final plans.

She attempts to get Marinette expelled but fails when the Principal insists that it must be a misunderstanding . Even when she starts crying and claiming Marinette is bullying her, the teachers do nothing. It isn't until Chloe confronts her that she finds out Marinette is the top student in the school and a certified genius. Chloe smirks, informing her that if the school even attempted to claim she was cheating they'd not only come under fire, but they'd lose their funding from having her there.

Lila decides to just make the class hate Marinette while still trying to get Adrien. She is unable to get a foothold even when she manages to get Gabriel's attention claiming Adrien is hanging with terrible people. However the moment she mentions Marinette's name she is shut out. Gabriel telling her that Marinette has a higher standing than the daughter of an ambassador any day.

Lila's anger gets her akumatized into Volpina, she goes after Marinette determined to hurt the girl in some way. She finds her at the skate park watching Alix practice. She creates an illusion of Adrien and has the illusion walk up to Marinette. The illusion begins to tear into Marinette claiming that she is a terrible person, and doesn't deserve anything that she has, before telling her that they were no longer friends. She gets angrier when Marinette asks the illusion what her nickname for him was and smirks when the illusion doesn't answer. Volpina gets so angry she just attacks Marinette swinging at her with her flute getting angrier when Marinette blocks each hit with her arms barely flinching until Chat Noir tackles Volpina away from her. Marinette is quick to run away, Alix following her. Soon after Ladybug joins them in the fight, once they defeat Volpina. Ladybug turns to find Lila crying claiming that she didn't want to hurt Marinette but the girl had been bullying her.

Chat Noir growls but Ladybug quickly stops him from doing anything.

'I know you're lying Lila. I suggest you stop lying, and have that video removed claiming to be my best friends. The only friend I have while in this mask is Chat Noir. You are putting yourself in danger by lying.'

Lila however just stops crying and galres at the heros huffing and storming away.

The next day everyone is talking about Lila taking another trip to Achu to visit Prince Ali. They get annoyed when Marinette asks Rose if she is going to email the Prince asking about her.

Eventually things return to slight normalcy and they only have to listen to Lila's lies when she video chats the class.

A few weeks after she has left Adrien finds the Miraculous grimoire, he immediately brings it to Marinette and shows her. Once Tikki sees it she insists that they bring it to the Guardian so she and Adrien set off together finally meeting Fu. Half way through their conversation Adrien is called back home by Gabriel. Gabriel demands the book back and is deeply upset when Adrien says he lost it. Gabriel dismisses him and he destroys his room before akumatizing himself.

Meanwhile Marinette is tearing into Fu for giving them the Miraculous without any proper training. Soon after she gets a message from Adrien saying that Gabriel had been akumatized. She quickly transforms meeting up with Chat Noir on the way once they defeat The Collector they return to Fu and take pictures of the book. Marinette then heads to the Agreste Mansion with the book in hand. When Gabriel comes to the door she quickly introduces herself before handing the book over.

"Adrien was really excited to share the book with me today while we had lunch at my home. However he forgot it in my room, sorry it took me so long to get the book here Mr. Agreste!"

Gabriel takes the book and thanks Marinette before questioning her and Adrien's relationship. Marinette laughs softly telling him that Adrien is like a brother to her. He then asks why brother and not best friend. Marinette grabs the ring around her necklace playing with it gently.

"Because my best friend is my boyfriend and my betrothed."

Gabriel then issues an invite for her to come over more, saying that she is clearly a good influence on Adrien. Marinette thanks him before saying goodbye and leaving.

That night they all meet in their wearhouse to talk about it. Even though Adrien is distressed he agrees that his father is still their biggest suspect.

Marinette pulls Oracle and Batgirl into a video call as they all sort through Gabriel's dealing since Emilie's disappearance. They determine that he wants Tikki and Plagg for a wish relating to Emilie. Marinette pulls Adrien aside and they have a heart to heart.

"Do I want my mom back? Yes, more than anything, but she-My mom would never want this. She'd be so incredibly disappointed in my father for terrorizing the city she loves. She'd be disappointed in me for thinking for even a second to help my dad."

Oracle looks into every dealing Gabriel has had while Batgirl focuses heavily on going through camera footage.

Oracle points out a few months before Hawkmoth started Gabriel paid the city to remove the camera from around his mansion. Batgirl shows them footage of the house before he paid the city off pointing out the window designed like a butterfly. Showing that the small middle section is designed to open. Oracle finds something big from a few months before Emilie disappeared. She found that Gabriel hired multiple workers to come and build an underground garden, paying them off so that they would never mention it. She also found he bought a pod specially designed for those in coma to keep them from dying.

They all start planning on how to take Gabriel down. The only reason they haven't acted is for fear of his company. They don't want it to fall and have millions lose their jobs. They also want more evidence to take to the police. Oracle hires someone to install a camera facing the window in order to get confirmation.

Adrien meets Kagami much the same way except Marinette confirms that she did win. She however gets akumatized when her mother brushes off her success. After being defeated, Adrien extends his friendship to her, and they slowly grow closer. Soon after Marinette meets Luka when he drops something off for Juleka. He helps her pick up the books she dropped and they are quick friends. Marinette can immediately tell that he is a meta and Luka is surprised but tells her that he can hear people's soul songs.

A few weeks later Gorilla is akumatized after Gabriel thinks he is Chat Noir. Ladybug is easily able to save Adrien getting him to safety before defeating Gorizilla she tells Hawkmoth to watch out because they are on to him.

After this Luka invites Marinette to his family's house boat during the music festival, when his mom gets akumatized Luka is quick to help Mari escape. Afterwards he tells her that he knows she was Ladybug and Adrien Chat Noir. Marinette brings him into their fold and when she does Adrien asks to bring Kagami.

Before the school year comes to the end the class meets Clara Nightingale. Clara becomes fast friends with Marinette and tries to get her to be Ladybug in her video. However Chloe has the shoot shut down and she is akumatized into Frightningale. After the fight Marinette encourages her to have everyone in the video wearing masks showing that they are all heros in their own way. Clara agrees and Marinette is very thankful that neither of her masks in her hero persona a black.

Adrien admits to Marinette that he has a slight crush on Kagami so Marinette enlists the help of Luka and together they go ice skating. While Kagami and Adrien are skating Luka and Marinette are calmly talking about the pair. Mari asks about their songs and Luka is silent for a second before smiling softly and telling her that their songs are beautiful together.

Two weeks before the end of the school year Lila returns to school. Once again the class is listening to everything she has to say.

She quickly convinces the class to exclude the four including Chloe from class plans over the summer. She is dumbfounded when the four don't care. Once the school year is over the class only sees the four in passing and every time there is an unknown boy with them.

Lila gets pissed when Gabriel stops having her do photoshoots with Adrien and gets even more pissed when Adrien announces on Twitter that he is dating Kagami.

Halfway through summer the classes are talking excitedly about Fashion week in Paris, excited to see Adrien and Lila modeling. They are surprised when they arrive and Marinette is sitting in the front row with Nathaniel, Alix and four unknown boys and three girls. One of them in a wheelchair. When Audrey arrives she is greatly upset at the seating until Marinette and Cass politely offer her and Chloe their seats. Audrey calms down but is still upset at the slight Gabriel has given her. She accepts the seats and both girls get up, Marinette moves and sits on Damian's lap leaning back against him as he wraps his arms around her waist. Cass goes to sit behind Jason but he gets up giving her his seat before sitting behind her. Marinette greets Chloe politely before introducing her group.

"You already know our classmates Chloe but this is my boyfriend Damian and his brothers and sisters. Richard, Jason, Cass, Tim, and Stephanie."

Chloe is polite in return introducing her mother, Marinette nods politely

"Pleasure to meet you Mrs. Bourgeois, I am Marinette Dupain-Cheng. Some of my designs are being shown today along with Mr.Agreste's"

Audrey sniffs slightly starring Marinette down before offering a curt greeting. She then attempts to call Gabriel only for her call to go straight to voicemail. She grows more and more angry as she sits in the stands. Half way through the show she gets up and storms out angry that a girl that is unknown got a front seat but not her. When she is akumatized she goes after Marinette, she is unable to fire her because Damian jumps in the way getting turned to gold instead. Marinette is quickly pulled away by Tim who gets her to a safe place encouraging her to transform. Adrien joins them a few minutes later. After they transform Chat Noir agrees to distract Style Queen while Ladybug gets four Miraculouses

Nathaniel- Trixx- Youkai

Alix- Fluff- Bunnyx

Kagami- Longg- Ryuko

Luka- Sass- Viperion

When the fives get back they discover that Chat Noir had to change back, and after he de-transformed Style Queen found him and fired him as a way to get back at Gabriel. They launch into action fighting her. Viperion and Bunnyx sit on the back burner watching the fight. Viperion periodically shifting back using second chance and Bunnyx jumping in to grab one of the others when he tells her. Once she is taken down Gabriel comes and apologizes to Audrey telling her he fired the person that gave her a second row seat. Gabriel then apologizes to Marinette and Damian for this mistake causing her to be attacked. Adrien hurries over quickly hugging the couple telling him that he is happy they're both safe now. Audrey takes note of his clothes and comments that it's far from Gabriel's usual designs.

"Because it's not this outfit that was designed by MDC herself. He and I did a collaboration. She designed all the male outfits and I the female."

Audrey immediately jumps on him, admitting to knowing MDC.

"You know MDC? You know the Wayne family, along with Jagged Stone, and Clara Nightingale's personal designer?"

Gabriel nods gesturing to Marinette who Adrien was still hugging. Tell Audrey that MDC had been standing right next to them along with the Wayne's. Audrey is silent when she realizes she didn't recognize the Wayne family while she was angry. She immediately extends the offer for Marinette to come to New York with her to grow her exceptional talent. She brushes Chloe off when her daughter is upset over her mother never taking her. Marinette however refuses to go before telling Audrey off for telling her own daughter she is not exceptional.

"She may be mean and a bit of a bully but Chloe is exceptional in her own way. I will never work with someone who treats their own family like dirt. Ya know I always thought she was just a mean person, but now that I see who her mother is, I can tell you raised her to act exactly like you."

Marinette then walks away with her friends and the Wayne family following her along with Adrien. The next day Chloe shows up at the bakery and apologizes then thanks Marinette. Tell her that Audrey actually took what she said to heart and decided to stay in Paris to get to know her daughter.This starts a shaky friendship between the two

"Also why haven't you told anyone you're dating a Wayne??."

"Alya is obsessed with famous people, how do you think she'd react to finding out I'm famous in America but also betrothed to the youngest Wayne."

"You have a point but wasn't she your best friend?"

"No she was a friend but honestly she never really listened to me. I mean she thought I was in love with Adrien."

For the rest of the summer Chloe joins the group of friends and even though she is still mean they can tell she does care for them. Much like how Damian acts to the others except Marinette. Damian and Chloe actually enjoy getting into little arguments over different things.

They celebrate their birthdays at Le Grand Pairs at Chloe's place Gabriel even allows Adrien to attend, while Marinette's parents cater the party, they turn 15.

When summer ends the entire group is at the airport saying goodbye to Damian.

The school years start rather calmly with random akumas popping up but none particularly dangerous. It isn't until halfway through the year when Heroes Day comes around and Hawkmoth akumatizes Lila allowing her to create the illusion of an akumatized Ladybug killing Chat Noir.

The fight gets so bad that Fu joins in desperation to help. However at the end of the fight he realizes that his time has been shortened. He proceeds to name Marinette and Adrien Guardians, telling them that he'll shortly lose his memories and a few weeks later die. He tells him that they will not lose theirs unless they recreate the potion he was given.

A few weeks later Marinette is visited by a lawyer, Fu leaves her everything in his will. Marinette has enough money to last a lifetime.

Hawkmoth's akumas are steadily getting stronger and it seems like Lila is getting akumatized every other month. The Miraculous Team begins to think that Lila is working for Hawkmoth, and after hacking her phone Oracle confirms that she has been.

Before the end of the year Lila convinces the class to kick Marinette as their class president. Marinette steps down without a care however in front of the class she tears apart her notebook that had everything in it for the class's end of the year trip. Telling them to have fun planning another trip, before turning to her friends.

"Chloe, Alix, Nathaniel, Adrien, you're coming to Gotham with me this year. We'll let Kagami and Luka know when they come over today. You're gonna love it Wayne Manor is beautiful, and we all get to stay there for the whole summer!"

Lila scuffs saying that her Damiboo would never let a bully like her into her house. She then tells the class that she was asked to keep it a secret for a while but her and Damian had been dating for three months.

They are startled when they hear Dick laughing from the doorway.

"My little brother is dating you, good one, especially since my brother has been betrothed since he was born."

Alya immediately jumps to Lila's defense demanding to know who Dick is. Causing him to roll his eyes before turning to Marinette. Telling her that he was taking them to the airport and that they'd be taking the jet to Gotham one their last day. Before he leaves Alya demands to know who he is.

"Richard Grayson-Wayne, now I'd appreciate it if you stopped telling lies about my family. Damian would never go out with you, he has been dating Marinette for almost two years now. Oh and Mari, I'll let dad know your six friends will be coming with us."

The class is stuned and Lila immediately starts crying, telling them that Damian must have lied to her. However Max, Juleka, Rose, Ivan, and Mylene no longer believe her.

When the class ends the group of friends leaving ignoring everyone excitedly talking about their trip.

Once back at Marinette's they all relax talking about what they are going to do while there. The group is upset that Marinette and Batman won't let them patrol Gotham but they don't put up much fuss. Marinette tells them they'll use Kaalki to get back and forth for fights and that while there they'll be finalizing plans to take out Gabriel with the help of Batman.

#marinette dupain cheng #miraculous marinette #marinette dupen chang #maribat #damian al ghul #damian wayne #damimari #daminette #miraculous ladybug #mlb x dc #dc comics #ml x dc #batfamily #batfam #batman #betrothal

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omegawolverine · 4 years ago

Text

Braid Me a Home

summary:

"Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

A story about the Sleepy Bois being family, told through braids.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: child neglect, hurt/no comfort, canonical character death, implied/referenced mental health issues (like it’s obvious but there isn’t much detail to it), brief blood mentions (ik this fic sounds kinda angsty as hell but its not? imo its light angst)

a/n: first dream smp fic and im ALREADY projecting? christ. anyways. go easy on me pls this is far from my best work i just havent written a fic in like 5 months (more if you dont count the fucking chat fics) mm also i may have posted this like a week ago on ao3 just to test the waters and its already gotten way more comments and kudos than any fic of mine usually gets this early on so hopefully tumblr enjoys it too :]

—

When Wilbur Soot was born, he came out crying, as most babies do. Covered in vernix and blood, he weighed just barely above the seven-pound mark, gasping out sharp cries that only a parent could truly stand, or worse—love. Though he was the second baby born into the family that day, he was fussed over far more than he would ever be again.

Technoblade, on the other hand, had barely made a sound when he came out, a trail of blood smeared across his forehead, almost as if it was meant to be there. He made small noises that were more akin to confused mumbles, weakly grasping at his father’s hair when he was eventually passed on for the second child to be welcomed into the world.

Only when both boys were held in their father’s grasp did Wilbur quiet down, his soft head leaning into his father’s beard as he stared wide eyed at the boy across from him. Though they looked similar enough, Technoblade’s nose was squished further back into his face, appearing almost snout-like to Philza. Of course Wilbur noted this, wiggling until their father somehow managed to get them pressed right up against each other with minimal damage done. Though Techno never stopped squinting like an annoyed old man at Wilbur, he allowed the other to press a fist against his nose, his eyebrows unfurrowing just the slightest bit at the touch.

From that day on, Philza was the father of two twin boys—a loud boy who cried easily, but always calmed down for his older brother, and a rather monotone one, who’s face seemed to be permanently stuck in a scowl, unless said face was being smushed around by the younger. And things worked like that for a while. Not forever, but...a while.

—

Philza taught Wilbur to braid on a hot Monday afternoon.

It had been a rough day for the boy, though Phil hadn’t a clue why. Maybe he had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Or maybe he hadn’t slept enough between bedtime and the time Tommy had started crying again, the youngest boy’s crib being right beside his head and all. Though it might’ve seemed cruel from an outsider’s perspective, Wilbur had been the one to ask for it. Something about Tommy being his little brother and how he needed to teach the boy the ways of the world in the same way Techno had taught him—because apparently that was all Techno’s doing now, not Phil’s.

Regardless, Wilbur had been a bit too snippy for Phil’s liking that day, complaining about every little thing they did until finally, the day was over.

Well, as over as it could be with Techno leaving mid foam sword fight, an annoyed shout of ‘I quit!’ leaving his mouth before he snatched up Tommy’s carrier and brought him inside for god knows what reason.

It had only been around four P.M. by that time—too early for dinner, yet too late for Phil to really demand the boy stay outside and continue to entertain himself with a brother who was clearly not entertained himself.

Details aside, Phil isn’t really sure how they got to braiding. He just knows at some point they did and by the end of their outside time, just before the clock struck six, Wilbur had made two thick, messy braids in his hair. They stuck out awkwardly, looking all too similar to Pippi Longstocking’s iconic hairdo for his comfort, but he’d be damned if he took out the braids his son had so happily rushed inside to show his older brother before demanding to do his hair as well. After all, Wilbur didn’t have long enough hair for braids, but Technoblade sure as hell did. It was only at his shoulder blades back then, brunette curls wrapping around his narrow shoulders and thin arms like thick vines.

Wilbur had always enjoyed brushing it out with his fingers and putting cute, handmade clips or flowers in it at random, decorating the waves for his brother who was more than happy to let the boy do as he pleased. Though he would never admit it, Technoblade liked how it felt when Will played with his hair. He was always careful not to tug too hard, prioritizing the comfort of his other half more than the beauty of his work, as he so often referred to it.

So when Will had presented him with the mess that was his first two braids, he wasn’t hesitant at all to let the boy practice on him. Instead, he walked to the couch with a small smile, removing his glasses gently and getting comfortable before his brother plopped down into the space behind him. Long legs draped over long legs with no warning, thighs pressed together as if they were meant to be like that all along—and they might as well have been, for how often they did this.

Phil had watched them from the doorway in content silence, Tommy sitting behind him in a wooden high chair looking bored, but not making a fuss for once. And as he left that doorway to begin dinner, he listened to their muffled conversation and soft bursts of laughter with a small smile on his lips, for he knew things wouldn’t always be this way. They would have to grow up eventually, and when they did, things would change. Phil could only hope it was for the better.

—

When Tommy turns nine, Wilbur teaches him to braid under circumstances not too different from the ones he had learned under himself.

Well. Not too too different.

Philza and Technoblade had been...busy as of late. In the house for three days, out for a week, in for a week, out for three more, over and over and over again. Wilbur had become more like a father to Tommy in recent months than he should’ve been, his fourteenth birthday fast approaching as their father took Techno out for yet another job, one that Wilbur couldn’t come on because he was too fucking weak to do anything Techno could do, too fucking stupid to learn all the techniques Techno did, lacking all the strength and agility his older sibling possessed, like the useless prick he was-

Right. This is about Tommy.

When Tommy was nine, his hair rested gently against his collarbones in the exact same cut and color as their father wore. If Wilbur was a lesser man, he would’ve hated the kid for it, but it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t see what a selfish git their father truly was yet. All he knew was that their dad was busy a lot and that, for some reason, Techno needed to go with him. Apparently, that was enough for him to keep holding onto the idea that one day, the man would stay longer and maybe, just maybe, show him some of the same care that his older brother did.

If Wilbur was a better man, he would tell Tommy the truth. He would tell him all about the way Philza had called him useless in a fight, forcing him to instead stay home and care for a child while still being one himself. He would mention how Philza had given him no instructions on how to care for a developing child, how he left out key details to parenting on his own as a goddamn thirteen-year-old, yet remembered to tell him things would be better this way because god forbid he does his fucking job as a father for anyone but Technoblade—

Who he missed. He missed Technoblade, his other half, so fucking bad it hurt sometimes—so bad it left him gasping for breath at two A.M., his head pounding in tandem with his uneven heartbeat, lungs burning as his snot and tears soaked into his brother’s cold, cold sheets. And it made him feel fucking pathetic because the truth of the matter was that...Techno had left him behind too. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the older boy, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn’t hate Philza either, if he were to be honest with himself, but it was a lot easier to pretend he did when his father was the one putting them all in this position to begin with.

So, Tommy was nine when he learned how to braid.

Phil had promised him and Techno would be back Tuesday morning.

It was Wednesday afternoon.

Tommy didn’t fucking understand, and as frustrating as it was that the prick decided to take it out on Wilbur, he couldn’t blame him. Who else was he supposed to take this shit out on? Certainly not the man who had yet to return.

Wilbur had started the braid as a way to distract him. It was simple, really—tell him you know something he doesn’t and that he won’t get to know if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and listen.

When he had started tugging the boy’s hair back from his face, his immediate reaction was to jerk away, swatting at the hands that hovered over his shoulders. This only happened once or twice more before he let it happen naturally, his posture stiff as Wilbur ran his fingers through the boy’s hair with practiced ease.

Though it may not have seemed like it, Tommy was significantly more averse to touch than Techno had ever been. The only reason Techno even seemed averse to it was because of his hesitance to initiate, something he and Wilbur had discussed in depth. Rejection was one of the few fears Technoblade truly had and Wilbur held that fact close to his heart, ready to die with it if need be. Tommy, on the other hand? He was very particular about where and when and why someone was touching him, and it had taken Wilbur a long time to get used to that fact. But, he wasn’t about to make his little brother uncomfortable just so he could be happy and, eventually, he learned the ins and outs of how to touch TommyInnit without causing issue.

Pulling a few of the shorter strands towards the front of Tommy’s face loose, Will separated the blonde’s hair into three sections. They were rather small, what with how thin and short his hair was, it just barely being long enough to even have a proper braid in it, but Wilbur knew he could make it work.

“Now, Toms, you gotta listen to me here, because I can’t show you this bit, yeah? Phil and Tech aren’t here, and my hair is too short, so you’ll just have to feel it out for now, but...this is how you braid hair-” Wilbur had said in a soft voice, brushing the pad of his thumb over the boys neck slowly to ease the tension out of his shoulders. The effect was immediate, the boy slouching forward as if he had just noticed he was holding himself so sternly. Smiling softly, Wilbur instructed him on how to weave the strands together, answering questions and pulling lightly at Tommy’s hair so he could feel exactly where everything went. After he was done, Tommy had reached back to feel the bumps in his hair, all his earlier anger seemingly gone as he gave a small smile. And then he tried it himself.

Of course he got a bit of help at first, Wilbur’s larger hands guiding his own with gentle corrections, but after that Tommy worked on it alone, his older brother watching in silence from a patch of grass beside the porch step.

That night, Tommy and Wilbur slept in Techno’s bed, a soft, blue blanket wrapped tightly around them. And if another body woke them up at some point that night, shoving its way into the mess of limbs, their chest pressed right up against the youngest boy’s back, then that was only for them to know.

—

At eleven years old, Tommy takes a pair of scissors to his hair. With flushed cheeks and salty lips, his hands shaking and his eyes foggy, he cuts, cuts, cuts, until he can no longer braid his hair—until he can no longer look like fucking Phil.

Even though Wilbur had once said he hated Tommy’s long hair—hated how similar he and their dad looked—he felt like crying as he ran his fingers through the uneven strands. He didn’t tell his brother this though, instead grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his freckled forehead. In a fierce whisper, Wilbur had said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Tommy. So fucking proud.”

Tommy never forgets the way he felt that day. He doesn’t forget Wilbur’s words either.

—

When Wilbur loses his last life, Technoblade tells Tommy to braid his hair.

It wasn’t a question either, but a demand forced out between gritted teeth, his face red, his nose stuffy and his lashes wet with unshed tears. Still, his words were clear as day.

“Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

Tommy sniffled, but did as he was told.

Maybe it was because he was too tired to argue with the only person he even had left. Maybe it was because he could tell Technoblade was mad at their father for the first time in his life, and he knew how bad his first time had felt. Or, maybe, it was just because he knew Techno fucking cared. Nobody else seemed to, but he knew Techno did and...that was enough for him.

As long as someone else cared—as long as it was fucking Technoblade—that was enough for him.

Just as Tommy had finished the braid, curling his finger around the light pink tail that tied the whole thing off, Techno yanked it forward. Before he could even register that the hair had left his hand, the older boy had taken an axe to the top of it, letting the rest of his hair fall around his face in uneven curls. Though it was a good ten minutes of work wasted, Tommy couldn’t say a damn thing as he watched Techno pocket the braid, muttering a thank you and heading in the direction of Wilbur’s unofficial grave.

In that moment, he felt relief for the first time in a long while.

—

Wilbur Soot was born covered in vernix and blood, weighing just barely above the seven-pound mark, and he came into the world much like he left it. Everyone had heard his cries—even if they weren’t there, even if they didn’t know him well—they had saw the way he spiraled, desperate and afraid and paranoid, searching for help, but never receiving enough.

And though he was the second child born, he left the world first, returning in a yellow sweater with a small braid tucked behind his ear. He didn’t really know why he had one, but he remembered braiding Techno’s hair and he remembered teaching Tommy how to do his own and he remembered, he remembered, he remembered the braids.

#dream smp #/dsmp #dsmp #sleepy bois inc #sbi #tommyinnit #wilbur soot #technoblade #philza #ph1lza #fic #fics #fanfic #fanfiction #the dream smp #shit self #dami writez #/rp #dsmp fic

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wellbafineline · 4 years ago

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Promise?

Harry is needy and you visit him on tour

hellooo this is my entry for ms olivias ( @bfharry ) boyfriendathon, im not entirely sure that anything happens in this but it is just reuniting w harry on tour fluff!!! i used the promt ‘harry’s number 1 groupie is his gf’ & this is my second full fic so pls be nice to me lol but enjoy!! also here is my other writing

also the title honestly has nothing to do with the piece i just picked it bc i though that line of dialogue was cute.

& heres livs boyfriendathon masterlist to read everyones entries!!

It didn't take much convincing for Harry to get you to join him on tour, actually all it’d taken was him to call you after one of his first shows on the North American leg telling you how much he missed you, and how lonely his hotel rooms felt and a couple of days later Jeff was forwarding you the plane tickets and info to meet them in Sacramento for a week of the tour.

It wasn't strange for you to visit harry on tour, but you both normally lasted a few more weeks before you caved and took the week off to go visit him, but a particularly needy harry and late night phone call with him listing all the ways he missed you, even after just a week and a half of being a part was all it took for you to take the 14 hour flight from London.

You were antsy to see him from the minute that you got in the car at the airport, but it was only increasing as you were walking with a security guard through the corridors of the arena. The security guard points you in the direction of Harry's dressing room as you turn the last corner. You could hear Harry's playlist playing quietly behind the door as you approached and knocked. ‘Jeffrey, said i just need ten minutes and i'd be there’ he shouted through the door ‘try again’ you laughed ‘not Jeffrey’

The door quickly flung open as soon as he heard your voice, immediately wrapping you in his arms, resting his chin on top of your head, and you both stayed like that for a minute before he started to squeeze you a bit too tightly. ‘Getting a bit hard to breathe here H’. ‘sorry love’ he loosened his arms a little around you, allowing him to look at you for a second before completely freeing you from his grasp, you looked tired from the long flight from London and your hair was a little wild because you hadn't had the chance to brush it in the rush from the airport to the venue he place a quick kiss on your forehead before letting you go to follow him into the dressing room to get settled.

There was probably an hour before the preparations for the show tonight really started, meaning Lambert would come with the rack of all of Harry's outfits and steal him away from you for him to get dressed and prep to perform but for now you were more than content with the position you were in. Harry had come back from soundcheck earlier and immediately lay on top of you wrapping his arms around your waist and his face pressed into your neck, while your hands were stroking through his brown curls while he sighed contentedly every so often.

You two stayed like that for the time being until people started to filter in the dressing room and asking for Harry’s attention to put the final details on the show and his outfit for tonight. You gave his hand a squeeze getting his attention to tell him you were going to find Mitch, Sarah and Adam and leave him to get ready for the show.

•··°　• ·*　　·　·　★　.　✦　　　*　*　　.　

The next time you saw Harry was as people were gathering to send him off onto the stage, you could hear the crowd cheering as the venue lights dimmed. ‘Come ‘ere quick’ he said as he pulled you by your hand into his chest ‘Need m’ good luck kiss’ he had the biggest cheesy grin on his face, you couldn't help but indulge him and match his smile. You bring your hand to cup his jaw, giving him a sweet kiss, but quickly pulling away, because you knew Harry and knew how he'd turn your good luck kisses into ‘make out in the venue hallway’ kisses, and you’d had enough teasing from Jeff about that over the years you’d been together.

•··°　• ·*　　·　·　★　.　✦　　　*　*　　.　

You’d made your way back to the dressing room ‘Ew! H you’re all sweaty’ you laughed as his arms tightened around your waist, clearly not listening to your complaints. ‘Missed this though didn’t y’.’ His voice is murmured in your hair with his arms still wrapped around your waist, but loosening so you could walk back for him to pack up and go back to your hotel, he’d said earlier that he wanted ‘his girl all to himself’ on your first night which you couldn't really argue with, being exhausted from the flight.

•··°　• ·*　　·　·　★　.　✦　　　*　*　　.

You were waiting on the plush hotel bed scrolling through your phone, checking social media while you’re waiting for Harry to get out of the shower, he was bound to be exhausted once his post show adrenaline wore off and he said he just wanted to take a quick shower to get clean, but now you were almost certain he’d fallen a sleep under the water.

The shower water turning off is what pulls your attention away from your phone, as you were in the middle of texting back your best friend who was checking that you got there safely. After a moment harry comes out of the bathroom, he was tying the belt of one of the hotel robes as he makes his way over and flops himself on the bed next to you, motioning for you to move over so you were both lying on his side of the bed, your head on his shoulder, and moving the few pieces of wet hair he missed in his hair clip off of his face.

‘M tired, glad we didn't go out now would have been asleep in the middle of some bar by now’ he murmured into your hair ‘Yeah, better off here’ you agreed, moving so that your leg was thrown over his hip and arm across his middle.

After a while of laying with each other he started to get restless, still some pent up adrenaline from the show, so you suggest doing the sheet masks you picked up in the airport earlier.

‘Y’sure your not tired? can do all of this tomorrow?.’ His arms tightened around your waist where you were sat on the bathroom counter putting the facemask on Harry's face. He scrunched up his face as you smoothed out the cold material on his face ‘M’fine just wanna spend some time with you.’

A little while after you had finished your facemasks Harry had decided he was hungry, finally crashing from his post show adrenaline and wanting to devour a bowl of fries from room service there was a knock on the door as you reached to put on the next episode of the show that you guys were watching.

‘it'll be food, I'll get it’ Harry mumbled as he pushed himself up off of the bed to get the door, grabbing his wallet on the way to tip the waiter. He returned a minute later with the tray of food you ordered, setting it down on the bed.

‘Missed you y’know’ harry starts as you put another chip in your mouth

‘Missed you two H, was only two and a half weeks though’ Harry scoffs ‘What not allowed to miss m’ own girlfriend now?’ You were already laughing as he finished, picking up a chip to throw at him across the bed. ‘Course not, like knowing you miss me’ you smile at him ‘always love.’

After finishing your food Harry’d moved you both back to lay in the bed with his head resting on your chest, his eyes fluttering shut every so often, he was clearly trying to stay awake. ‘S’alright H go to sleep, will still be here tomorrow, got me all week’ you told him, lips pressing a kiss to his hairline as you reached to turn off the TV so you both could get some needed sleep.

‘Y’promise?’

‘Promise.’

#harry blurb #harry fic #harry styles blurb #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles concept #harry concept #boyfriend!harry #boyfriendathon #my writing

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illneverrecover · 5 years ago

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call you mine (M) | changkyun

➛pairing: Im Changkyun (I.M.) x reader ➛genre: friends with benefits!AU, non Idol!AU, angst, smut, fluff. ➛word count: 2,741 ➛rating: M ➛warnings: idk this is truly some sweet soft shit, mentions of alcohol, friends with benefits, standing sex, slight rough sex, biting/marking because clearly I have a kink, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of Mingi!!, lots of kissing, soft clown Chaingang truly. ➛summary: Changkyun knew he ruined your friends with benefits arrangement when he let his feelings be known, and now you’ve left him on read for weeks. So he does the only thing he can to stay sane - he religiously watches your Instagram stories. ➛notes: Another first for me - my first Monsta X fic! I’ve played around with writing Changkyun for a while now, mostly because I live to torture @taetaesbaebaepsae (which she deserves from all the PAINFUL and RUDE Baekhyun shit she’s written for me). However, she decided to actively commission her own demise, because she stays not listening to Namjoon and refuses to love herself. I’m glad I finally got a chance to take a stab at writing her ult, and I hope I did him justice! Enjoy your tomfoolery, Kristin! 💖 ➛song: Call You Mine - The Chainsmokers & Bebe Rexha | Horizon - I.M. & Elhae

It’s pathetic, he knows.

The way he can’t stop watching, the way he seeks your face out in an app full of millions of others. The way he can’t get you out of his bed, his head, his thoughts.

He fucked up, scared you off, and now he’s left with the aftermath of his own stupidity. Watching you through a screen to fight the withdrawals off, to keep his heart beating.

Changkyun knows you would laugh at him if you saw what he was doing.

Watching your Instagram stories is the only reason he’s heard you laugh in over two weeks, the only way he’s been able to see your eyes light up, your lips curve into a salacious grin. Things he fucking missed, thought he would have plenty of time to indulge in - until he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and ruined it.

He had taken you back to his place after a few shots of whisky at the dingy local bar, hands and mouth unable to leave your skin - just like the hundreds of times before. It had been four months since you had started this friends with benefits relationship, and despite having freedom to see whomever he wanted, Changkyun found himself only starving for you. So hungry that he couldn’t stand another moment in that place, watching you share your smile with anyone other than him. So he had tugged you close, nipped at your ear, told you that you were so damn beautiful that he couldn’t stand there another minute without you coming undone around him.

You had smirked, slid your hand down the front of his pants, grabbing his cock like you owned it, purring out the words “prove it” before following him outside, just like the hundreds of times before.

Pressed up against his wall, his pelvis flush with yours, Changkyun whispered filth in your ears as he ground up against you, swallowing your moans in greedy kisses. Desperate fingers had pulled at your top, freeing your breasts for him to worship as he worked your skirt up around your waist, thrusting his clothed length against your core until you were whining.

Changkyun always promised to take his time with you, to work you over until you were drunk on his touch and pleading for more - but you never let him, always knowing the right thing to say to get his gaze to go dark and lust to turn frantic, to unzip his jeans and press inside your dripping cunt right there in the hallway.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

You had come around him, digging your nails in his back so hard it left marks, made him growl your name against your collarbone as his thrusts picked up speed to fuck you through the high. You urge him on in the way only you can manage, begging for his release, whispering how much you want his come deep in your cunt. Biting down against the skin, he had spilled inside you with a final groan, hips twitching as he pumped you full of him, forehead resting against your shoulder.

Instead of pulling away immediately, Changkyun remained collapsed against you, breathing heavy. You had smacked at his shoulder, but he just chuckled, arms adjusting to continue a firm hold of your legs as he stayed inside of you, trapping you against his body and the wall.

“What are you doing, Kyun?” scoffing, you had grasped his jaw, forcing him to look at you. “I let you fuck me dirty against the wall without even demanding you buy me food after. Least you can do is let me get cleaned up.”

He had gazed up at you then, eyes piercing as they looked through you, and your heart clenched tightly in your chest.

He knew he shouldn’t say it. Knew it would scare you off. And yet….

“I would, you know.” Swallowing thickly, his tongue darted out to wet his lips. “Take you to go get food. If you - I mean, if you wanted. If you’d let me.”

It was like he could see the carefully crafted defenses go up, the pain etching your brow and making your eyes go cold. Anxiety flooded his veins as you wiggled out of his grasp, sliding your clothes back into place as you moved towards his bathroom.

“You don’t mean that,” you murmured, faking a smile. “You know what this is, Kyun.”

“I do mean that!” He knew he sounded too eager, too pitiful, but he couldn’t stop himself. “I’d take you out to dinner. Or,” following you, he paused in the doorway, watching you appraise yourself in the mirror. “We could just get take-out and go somewhere private, drive to a park, bring a blanket and some booze, eat somewhere no one would know or bother us.”

Your answering laugh had sounded wrong, like it had cost you something - like it was the last thing you had wanted to do.

“Like a picnic? Changkyun, you’re saying you want to take me on a picnic? Like a proper date?”

Stuttering, he tried to explain himself, but you had cut him off with a single wave.

“Listen, we both know I’m not that kind of girl, and you don’t want me to be.” Leaning forward, you had pressed a kiss against his mouth, your eyes somber when you had pulled away, moved towards the door.

“What if I do?” His voice broke, wanting to reach out but his arms remaining stiff at his sides. “What if I want you to be that kind of girl, with me?”

Tears stung your eyes, your stomach sinking like you had been punched. You couldn’t do this, couldn’t handle the inevitable disappointment that would come when you got your hopes up.

“I’ll see you around,” you threw over your shoulder before shutting the door, and shutting him out.

Just like the hundreds of times before.

It had been two weeks now since he last saw you in person. It wasn’t for lack of trying; texting you at all hours had proven fruitless, even when he tried to send the usual ‘you up’ message like he didn’t just lay his heart out on the line. You responded airily, non committal, and he knew what you were doing.

You were trying to let him down easy.

So here he was, phone glued to his hand as he scrolled through to find your picture, clicking on it to see if there was any update. You didn’t post a bunch in your feed, but you had a tendency to update your stories often - filling them with silly memes and cute selfies, little videos of you going about your day. Cuddling with your cat, attempting to cook something for lunch. His favorite was when you would do tarot readings for your followers; the way your face would turn serious as you read the cards, passionate fire in your eyes as you helped deliver the message to its owner.

Seeing you that excited and genuine did something to him, made his chest feel like it was going to explode.

He knows you can tell that he’s watching, can see the icon of his profile showing up at the bottom of the video under “seen by.” He can only imagine what you’re thinking when you see it - that he’s a loser, this friend with benefits who turned lovesick puppy, but he can’t make himself care. It’s the only way he feels close, can pretend you’re still in his life.

He never thought that he would need you, now all he wants is to see you - for you to answer him, to come back to him.

Changkyun still sends texts, unable to stop his fingers from reaching out, despite knowing you’ll shut him down. He calls sometimes too, late at night when his blood is more whisky than plasma, though you never answer those. Instead he listens to your voicemail, eyes closed to stop the world from spinning, letting your voice lull him to sleep.

He convinces himself he’s fine with this arrangement, that things would be alright. He can just miss you from afar, observe you live your life through the pixels of a screen. That watching your stories is enough for him, will keep him afloat.

Until he sees you with someone else.

It was another Friday night he was spending alone, half drunk and on his phone, looking for your picture. Taking a deep breath, he had felt his heart stop when he saw the rainbow ring adorning your profile photo, meaning you had updated your story. Sighing, he tapped it, hoping that it would be a few videos so he could pretend for just a moment that he was beside you instead of wasting space on his bed.

The first clip was a selfie, your heavily lidded eyes staring seductively at the camera through your lashes, making his pulse jump and pants tighten. The caption “gonna get drunk tonight!” scrolled across the image, right below the pout of your lips. The next was a small video of you making a drink, giggling about the mixture of tequila and soju you were tossing in your cup, whispering to the camera how it was going to get you ‘all the way fucked up’. But it was the third clip that had his chest heaving, his lungs forgetting how to work.

You were walking out your door, a few people cluttering your front porch as you asked if anyone had a light. Some tall red headed kid - Changkyun refused to acknowledge him as anything more than that - had shouted out, and you squealed as you ran up to him, sliding directly onto his knee before switching the camera into selfie mode to capture the two of you. The next clip was you in his lap, one of your delicate hands sliding through his hair as he gave you a big dopey grin, a cigarette perched on your lips as you cooed at him and told him just how cute he was.

Fuck. He knew that look of yours, knew those moves. Knew exactly what you were doing, what you were hoping to do with that fucking Mingi kid, and he couldn’t stand it, not anymore.

Taking a few deep pulls directly from the liquor bottle, his fingers flew over the keys of his phone, sending you text after text - all of which were ignored. He knew calling would be pointless, that you would rather light yourself on fire than answer your phone - especially at a party - and he felt desperation creep up his throat, choking him.

Changkyun couldn’t let this happen. Couldn’t let you just forget about him.

Clicking back onto Instagram, he started sending you responses to the story video as he got dressed, throwing on the nearest pair of jeans and sliding on his boots.

<Baby?>

<I’m on my way. Don’t take that kid to your bed.>

It took painfully long for the Lyft to show up, and he gritted his teeth the whole route there, knee bouncing to stop himself from demanding the driver to go faster, to just hurry the fuck up and get to you.

When the car had pulled into your neighborhood, he tried to send another message, instead clicking a video. Too frustrated to change it back, he lets it record, his voice low and pained.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

You were alone on the deck when your phone started vibrating, the ding of an Instagram direct message making you click the app, eyes widening in surprise when you saw the number of notifications.

Changkyun, all from him.

Awestruck, you scrolled through every line, your heart throbbing with each word he had written.

You didn’t think he cared, not like that. Sure, he missed the sex, but that’s what you expected. That’s what all of them wanted when they sent you late night texts, when they called your phone at three in the morning. Empty promises and broken vows were what kept you company in the dark, when they’d predictably leave you alone with an ache between your legs and in your chest. None of them really wanted you, cared about you. After a few weeks of ghosting, they’d all disappear into thin air like expected, and your heart would harden just a bit more.

But now…

Another chime pulls you from your thoughts, eyes flicking back to the light of your phone. Instead of another direct message, it’s a notification that Changkyun had updated his story for the first time in months.

Shaking fingers slide against the screen, your vision blurring as you take in the shadowed back seat of another person’s car, the only light neon pink from the sign of the Lyft drivers decal. For a moment, all you can hear is the quiet chattering of a distant radio, of someone breathing heavily.

And then his voice croaking over the speaker, raspy with need.

“I’m on my way, please let me in.”

The video fades just as a car pulls up to your curb, a flurry of movement as Changkyun climbs out, stumbles towards you. He all but collapses into your arms, his breath dripping with liquor, eyes reddened but burning fiercely.

“Y/N,” he mumbles, hands coming to cup your face, thumb dragging against the smooth skin of your cheek. “I want to take you on a picnic.”

You laugh, though it comes out more like a sob. “What? What are you talking about? Did you call a Lyft and come all the way across town to tell me that, you clown?”

His finger taps against your lips once, twice. “Shh. Just let me-” he sighs, stomping a foot. “Let me talk.”

He waits until you nod before continuing, words surging from his mouth as if he couldn’t hold back a second longer.

“I came all the way here because I want to take you on a picnic. I want to buy you food and take you on cute little dates and do cheesy things that make you smile at me like you are right now,” he grins, pulling you until your chest rests against his own. “I’m here because I couldn’t stand you ignoring me anymore. I meant everything I said - that I miss you, that I want to be with you, if you’ll give me the chance. I want to call you mine.”

Pressing his forehead against yours, his eyes fall shut, his voice fervent and barely more than a whisper.

“I love you, Y/N.”

Tears brim your eyes, and you fight every old wound that tells you to shove him away, to call him a liar. Instead you allow yourself to follow your gut, your heart for what feels like the first time, leaning back to give him a watery smile in return.

“I love you too, Changkyun.”

His mouth immediately lands on yours, tongue eagerly tracing the seam of your lips until it’s slipping inside, tasting every inch of you, ravenous and unsatisfied until your knees are shaking. He’s walking you backwards towards the door, tugging at your clothes, and you giggle at his impatience.

Pulling away, you gasp for air, palm pressing against his shoulder to hold him back for a moment. “But listen, if I give you a chance, that means you have to stop stalking my Instagram, you creep. And don’t try to deny it, I see you all over my stories, lurking around.”

He chuckles then, nipping at your bottom lip as his eyes darken. “Please, don’t act like you don’t love the attention,”

Pushing the door open, he guides you inside, mouth working over your neck, arms wrapped around your waist until your back is flattened against the wall.

“Plus, there’s no need, now that I got you,” he confesses, his nose swiping against yours gently before he captures your lips between his own, hitching your legs to drape around his waist as he grinds against you, humming words of praise.

Just like the hundreds of times before, but now as his.

#changkyun x reader #IM x reader #changkyun smut #IM smut #monsta x smut #monsta x scenario #changkyun scenario #I.M. scenario #I.M. smut #I.M. x reader #ksmutclub #plotsofpastel #im changkyun #monsta x #monsta x fanfic #taetaesbaebaepsae #my writing #fic: call you mine #fic: cym

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firefly464 · 4 years ago

Text

The Real World - Chapter 13

"Oh Im gonna take a small break and go easy on this chapter :D" - me the other day. i then proceeded to write the longest chapter so far for no god damn reason.

ALSO YAY COOL SYMBOLISM IN THIS ONE

Thank you @i-have-this-now for helping me with transitions because im a complete mess Thank you to @rivys for beta reading and editing!

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

~~~

“They WHAT?!” Wilbur yelled, wheeling around to stare at the teenager behind him.

“They uh, they’re going to try and bring our Tommy and Dream back?” Tubbo repeated, taking a step back. “Is that bad…?” Hadn’t this been what Wilbur wanted? For their own Tommy to come home? Why was he acting so aggressive about it?

“Yes that's bad! Thats really fucking bad! Not Tommy obviously, but Dream?! Tubbo, Dream could come and break the peace treaty. He might start a whole new war, just out of spite. I cant… We can’t do that again. We just don’t have the resources.”

Tubbo paled as he realized what Wilbur was saying. Yes, they might have a chance to bring Tommy home, but at what cost? They would have to go back to living in fear, terrified that at any moment, Dream would come up behind them and try to kill one of them. He took another step back, shaking his head. He couldn’t go back to living like that. He just couldn’t.

Wilbur walked over to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, crouching slightly so that he was at eye level. “Tubbo, I need you to tell me something, and I need you to tell me the truth. Where are they going?” Tubbo shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. On one hand, he had promised Tommy that he was going to help him get home. He had given his word. But on the other, he couldn’t go back to living in constant fear. He just couldn’t. “The eastern dark woods…” he muttered, trying to push away the guilt that gnawed at him. He had to do this. For his friends. He had no choice.

“Got it.” Wilbur stood to full height, his eyes set and determined. “Go get your things together. We’ve got quite the trip ahead of us.”

~~~

“You can’t be serious. This is all you have? Why are there- why the hell do you have so many buckets? How on earth are you going to carry them?” George shook his head as he looked over the meager pile of supplies that Dream had gathered.

Dream just shrugged as he rolled up the bedroll he had found in one of the chests. “You never know what might happen. I’m just trying to be prepared.”

“Right. So you decided the best way to be prepared was to pack 3 buckets, but not pack any food or actual fresh water. You don’t even have a flint and steel!”

A snort of laughter sounded from behind them. Dream turned to see Tommy, snickering to himself quietly. When the teenager noticed that they were looking at him, he wiped the grin off his face and stood up straight, trying to look serious. It didn’t work.

“You know, you could be actually helping instead of just standing there and laughing,” Dream remarked.

“Aw, but where's the fun in that? It’s much more entertaining to sit back and watch you struggle.”

“Oh really? I would love to see you do a better job.” He clipped the bedroll to the base of his pack.

Tommy stepped forward with a smug grin. “Ok, I will, since I’m just so cool and awesome. First off, you need coal for torches and shit. Second, toss the buckets out. You’re not going to be pulling any epic mlg moves here. That's just not how physics work.” Dream grumbled to himself as he took the buckets out of the pile.

“Shut up, both of you!” George cried out, bringing the bickering to a halt. “Clearly neither of you have any idea what's going on or what to do. So instead of arguing, why don’t you just listen to me and do what I tell you to do. We’re on a timer, aren’t we?”

Dream and Tommy looked down guilty. They had forgotten about the 48 hour limit, and had ended up falling back into their carefree habits. “Right, sorry.” Tommy said.

“Alright, Dream, I want you to go and gather some water. Once you’ve got a bucket full, I want you to boil it and bottle it. We can’t have you getting sick from dirty water. Tommy, go and gather some wheat. We don’t need too much, just enough to make enough bread for if we can’t find any animals. I’m going to go and get the horses saddled.” George’s voice was calm as he explained what each of them was going to do. The other two nodded and quickly rushed out of the room.

~~~

“Alright I’ll be the first to admit, I’ve never rode a horse before. I’ve got no fucking idea what I’m doing,” Tommy admited as he tried to find his balance atop the large animal. The three of them had gathered up all of their materials rather quickly, and were now on their way towards the forest. “Seriously, how the fuck do people do this?”

“By shutting up and not complaining.” Dream seemed to have figured out how to ride his horse pretty quickly, and was now spending his time taunting the younger teenager.

“Yeah, well maybe if you weren’t so damn annoying, I would have less to complain about.”

"C'mon, Tommy, hurry up. The sun's setting." George said, while Tommy almost fell off his horse.

The three of them rode across the rough wilderness, as the moon rose slowly along the horizon. This was going to be a long night.

~~~

“We can stop here to make camp for the night,” George said as they came across a small clearing. The three of them had been traveling for hours now, and found themselves in the middle of a birch forest.

"Eugh, birch. This is literally the worst kind of wood." Dream said jokingly.

"Agreed." Tommy nodded.

"What? Oh come on, birch isn't that bad." George relatiated as he set up a fire.

"What?" Dream laughed. "George, have you seen these trees?"

"Dream, they're just trees. Plus, we aren't gonna be here for long. We'll keep travelling as soon as the sun rises." George rolled his eyes.

“Ughhhh, really?! But that’s so early!”

“Tommy, shut up. Stop acting like a child. You’re just lucky that we found a place to stop at all.” George handed both Dream and Tommy a couple of torches. “Here, set these up along the perimeter. The last thing we need is a bunch of mobs trying to kill us while we sleep.”

Both Dream and Tommy stared at him in shock.

“What? Do you guys not have mobs in your world?”

“Wha- No of course we don’t! I didn’t think that they were actually real here, holy shit…” Dream exclaimed.

“Damn… A world where you don’t have to worry about getting eaten alive in the middle of the night. That honestly sounds really nice.” he shook his head, trying to clear his mind. “Never mind that right now. I need you guys to set up the torches.”

~~~

The sound of a netherite blade slicing through the air echoed across the quiet forest. It had been several hours since they had set up camp, and Dream had long since given up on sleep. The events of the day had played over and over in his mind, making it impossible to close his eyes. And so, he had quietly gotten up and snuck away to a small open area where he could practice.

Over the past week, he had found that practicing sword fighting helped him to calm down. The simple, repetitive motions helped to quiet the intrusive thoughts that continued to plague him. He had started to grow quite reliant on it to stay sane. Maybe, when he finally got home, he would join a fencing class.

If he got home. No. No he couldn’t think like that. Pessimism wouldn’t get him anyone. He needed to trust Tubbo and Wilbur. They were going to get him and Tommy home. They had to.

“You know, you’ve really gotten a lot better,” said a voice from behind him. A squeal of surprise was torn from Dream’s throat as he spun around, his sword at the ready. “Pffft, what on earth was that?” George stepped out from the shadows of the trees into the light of the torches that Dream had set up.

Dream placed a hand on his chest, trying to calm his racing heart. “Jesus man, you scared me. What the hell was that about?”

The shorter man chuckled as he stepped further into the light. “Gotta keep you on your toes. What's the point of learning how to fight if you’re not constantly aware?” He drew his own sword and held it out in the form of a challenge.

“You are actually the worst,” he said, raising his own sword in response.

With a grin, George rushed forward in attack. Dream raised his sword to block the incoming strike, allowing his instincts to take over. He had learned that if he simply didn’t think about what he was doing, he often did quite well. And so he let his mind go blank, instead focusing on surroundings. The stars, the leaves, the trees, even the man before him was all taken in as they sparred.

“Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” George asked, most likely hoping to distract his opponent.

Dream only shrugged as he feigned an attack at his friend's leg, only to come up and create a small cut on his cheek. “Couldn’t sleep. I was hoping that doing some practice would help calm me down.”

“And? How's your success rate?”

“Well it was pretty good, until you arrived and scared me half to death.”

“Aww, I didn’t realize compliments scared you so much.”

“Yes, I’m quite shy.” Dream couldn’t help but grin.

As the two of them joked back and forth, they continued their little duel. It had been going for a couple minutes now, and they seemed to be at a bit of a stand still. A rush of pride surged through him. In roughly a week, he had gone from completely and totally useless to actually able to defend himself. Now, he just needed to set himself apart.

His mind began working overtime, analysing every small detail. Quickly, he reached back with his free hand and pulled out a loaded crossbow. George’s face transformed into surprise when he saw the weapon. The bolt flew past his face, only just barely grazing the side of his head.

Dream quickly threw the weapon aside and pressed his advantage. Suddenly, the favor was tipped towards Dream. George was unbalanced, startled by the use of the crossbow. Still, he managed to raise his sword just in time to block another strike.

With his free hand, Dream reached into one of the pouches around his waist and pulled out a small sphere, roughly the size of a marble. With a slight squeeze, the sphere expanded to the size of a baseball. While George was distracted with blocking the strike towards his face, Dream tossed the sphere behind him. With a crash, the sphere shattered against the ground.

Suddenly, Dream appeared behind George in a shower of purple. With a sweep of his foot, his friend came falling to the ground. With a final motion, he held the sword above his throat, his green eyes bright with exhilaration and delight.

“Alright alright, you win. I surrender,” George said with a laugh.

“Did you see that?! That was so cool! Oh my god that was so awesome!” Dream exclaimed as he helped George to his feet. “That was so damn cool!!” he started jumping around the small clearing in excitement.

“How did you even do that? I’ve never seen someone use a crossbow in the middle of a sword fight before”

“I’ll be honest, I’ve got no idea. I have no idea what the hell I just did. I just know that it was cool as fuck!”

He shook his head, chuckling as he watched his friend dance around the area. George had never seen Dream show any sort of emotion before, much this level of excitement. Even though he knew the reasons why, he couldn’t help but feel a bit weirded out by it. Watching the pure joy flash across Dream’s face was strange. Still, it was nice. “You are such a dork”

He only responded with a wide grin.

A thought flashed through George’s mind, causing him to frown slightly. Dream stopped his playful jumping and walked over, his eyes now filled with concern. “Hey, you alright?” He asked. “Oh shit, you’re bleeding! Hold on I’ve got a few bandages on me I think…”

As Dream pulled out a couple white bandages from his bag, George let out a slight chuckle. “Do you even know how to use those?”

“Uhhh, not really? I’m sure I can figure it out. How hard can it be?”

He wasn’t impressed. With a roll of his eyes, George held out his hand for the bandages “Here, just let me do it. It doesn’t really hurt, I think it's just a small cut. Probably just needs to be cleaned.” Taking a bottle of water from his bag, he quickly wet the bandage and started to clean the blood from his face.

Dream pouted. “Well what if I wanted to help?”

“Then you can go and wash the blood out of these,” George said, tossing him the now stained bandages. “No point in wasting perfectly good bandages because of a small cut.”

He caught them easily, but otherwise didn’t move. “Nope. Not until you tell me whats wrong.

The brunette cursed under his breath. Since when had he been so easy to read? “I uh, I was just thinking about… Stuff,” he waived his hand vaguely.

“You wanna talk about it?” Dream plopped down onto the grass and patted the ground next to him. “Here, take a seat.”

He sat.

“Spill.”

“I’m just… Worried, I guess? I mean, in a few days, you’re going to be gone and… the other Dream will be back. I guess I’m just scared about what he's gonna do.”

The smile faded from Dream’s face as he considered what to say. “What was he like?” he asked after a few seconds. “The other me, I mean.”

“He was… Scary. All he cared about was the thrill of the hunt. The mask made it impossible to tell what he was ever thinking, which made it ten times worse. Of course, it only covered his eyes and nose, so that you could still see his grin.” He shuddered. “I watched as he blew up the gates of L’manberg with a massive smile on his face.”

“So then… why did you follow him in the first place?”

“I had no choice. When Sapnap and I showed up, he was the only other person here. It was either join him or be left out to die to the mobs. After a while I guess I just didn’t realize how cruel he was. He was a good leader, and super charismatic. Not to mention a really good actor. By the time the war started… I guess I just trusted him, if that makes sense. He had kept me alive ‘till then, so why would anything change?”

Dream nodded. He wasn’t going to pretend like he understood what his friend had gone through, but he could still try and help in his own way. “He taught you sword fighting, how to survive. You felt like you were indebted to him, right?”

“Yeah… Pretty much. God, its so stupid! I should have been able to realize how messed up he was. Why the hell did I not realize?!” He took off his round sunglasses and pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes shut tight. “I was so fucking stupid.”

Hesitantly, Dream reached over and placed a hand on his friends back, trying to comfort him. “Hey, that’s not stupid. You’d be surprised at how easily our minds can trick us into thinking we’re doing the right thing. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. That's not your fault.” A stab of guilt shot through him. He had been the one to add George onto the server. If he had waited a bit, would things have been different? Maybe if he had acted differently on stream, or not sent the declaration of war, maybe things would have turned out different. The other Dream might have turned out to be a decent guy, not someone that people trembled before and feared.

“I should have been smarter… I should have joined Sapnap when he went off on his own.”

The weight of George’s words finally sunk in. The other Dream was a monster, a killer. He was the living, breathing version of the mask Dream sometimes wore in his videos. The act of someone who enjoyed the hunt, and nothing more. These past two weeks had been peaceful and calm compared to what everyone had normally lived through, and it was all because the monster was finally gone. But now… now they were about to bring him back. They were about to bring everyone’s worst nightmare back to life.

What choice did they have? It was either that, or let the entire world get destroyed. Either way, the other Dream was about to ruin people’s lives. He sighed. “It's going to be alright, ok? We’ll figure something out, I promise. You’re not going to go back to living like that. I promise.”

Now, it was just a matter of keeping that promise.

~~~

Master Post

First - Previous - Next

#alright can i just say #im so proud of that sparring scene #it turned out really cool in my opinion and i really like it #Tubbo_#tubbolive #wilbursoot #wilbur soot #dreamwastaken #dream team #dreamsmp #sapnap #georgenotfound #The Real World #The Real World AU #my writing #fanfiction #l'manberg #tommyinnit

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a-singleboat · 4 years ago

Text

Virtual Reality

Word Count: 2.4k

Request: hi! if your taking requests, i was wondering if you could write a damien x reader, where they meet through Twitch? add anything else you want i always love everything you write, thanks so much!! - anon

Warning(s): like, one swear

It was a Thursday night when you first met him, or rather, heard of him. You had been streaming for five hours heading into your sixth when you decided it might be time for you to log off for the night. As per usual, you took at least thirty minutes at the end of your stream just to talk with your viewers, usually about how their lives were going in exchange for a story from your own day.

Tonight, however, there was an influx of people asking if you’d ever heard of a streamer by the name of Damien Haas, which you hadn’t, and if you would do a collaboration with the man anytime soon. Apparently, your content was eerily similar and you were, and I quote, “Practically the female version of him, looks aside.”

“Damien Haas…” you rolled yourself back closer to your desk, hands settled on your keyboard. You typed his name into the search bar, patiently waiting for Twitch to pull up his account. You clicked into the first one, making an impressed face at the purple checkmark next to his name. You squinted at the screen. “Is this him? In the profile picture with the LEDs in the background?”

You glanced at your chat, chuckling as the viewers started spamming ‘yes’ and ‘oh my god it’s happening,’ and your personal favorite, ‘mom come pick me up the best crossover of 2020 is happening and im SCARED.’

“He plays a lot of Animal Crossing,” you observed, clicking on one of his videos and dragging the tab onto your main monitor so the stream could see it. You skipped through the beginning part, biting into a pretzel as you watched.

“He’s kinda cute,” you commented, laughing as your stream freaked out once more. There were a few people commenting what looked like it could be a ship name though you ignored it. “Shame I’d never meet him, though.”

You paused his video, taking note of the time, before rolling out your shoulders. “I think it’s time for me to head out so I’m gonna end this stream with a huge thank you to you all for sticking with me through this entire stream and if you didn’t stay the entire time, I’m glad you decided to join in on the ride even halfway through. I’ll see you guys next time.”

You ended the stream, waving goodbye to your viewers before the light went out and you could relax the smile off your face. Don’t get it twisted, you loved streaming and you loved your viewers but just like any other job, it could get exhausting at times. You shut down your monitors, the screens turning blue before fading to black. You stretched, taking your phone up from its charger and launching yourself into bed, opening your phone and clicking on Twitter.

Much like staying thirty minutes after you were done streaming to talk to viewers, you usually went on Twitter right after to answer questions and respond to DMs. This time, however, instead of opening the app to see a bunch of post-stream questions, your mentions were filled with the video clip of you saying, “He’s kinda cute,” as well as maybe a million people tagging both you and Damien in them.

Well, shit.

Soon enough, that was all that filled your timeline. You couldn’t move in one direction without running into another screencap of you admiring the man. God, you knew the consequences but something in the back of your mind was urging you to reach out to him.

After a few moments of contemplation, the lonely side of you won out, forcing you to message him against your better judgment. Without even thinking about it, you found his Twitter and sent this message:

Hey, I’m sorry about your mentions blowing up because of me tonight. My viewers recommended your Twitch to me and I spoke without thinking about it on Live.

And with no expectation of his response, you fell asleep right there with your phone on your chest and the DM still open.

You woke up the next morning with a sore neck and a dead phone, which was a terrible way to start your day. You rolled over, plugging your device into an outlet before crawling out of bed to start your day. When you weren’t streaming, you worked as a freelance editor for different YouTubers, helping their editors with their workload or even staying on as a Temp for different companies. Occasionally you edited the odd commercial here and there, but those gigs were rare.

Most recently, you had received some material from a group of YouTubers, Smosh. This job was different, however, because if you did well on this you could be looking at a permanent place of employment through their parent company, Mythical Entertainment.

You knew Mythical Entertainment, it was hard not to, especially since your aunt was one of the producers within the company, but tended to ignore everything the company did. The last you’d heard, they’d onboarded another YouTube group (which you did later find out to be Smosh, the same YouTubers whose video you were hired to edit).

After a quick shower and a half-assed attempt at a proper breakfast, you were ready to start your day. You situated yourself behind your monitors, opening the video clips that had been sent to you. The first was a sample video, something that gave you insight on what their editing style was actually like.

But imagine your surprise when you’re staring down the same man you have called cute the night before, his approximately five-eleven stance taking up one-sixth of the space. He was standing next to a blond, who had been marked as “Shayne Topp.”

Despite there being five other people in frame, your eyes kept moving back to Damien’s figure, watching his mannerisms through the screen and laughing along to his jokes when they fell upon deaf ears.

Your eyes slid over to your phone, now decently charged after sitting for so long. On your screen were dozens of notifications. There were maybe two from your mom, asking if you’d be coming home for dinner sometime that week but the majority came from Twitter. You picked up the device, unlocking and responding to your mom with a, “yes,” before opening Twitter.

Nothing much had changed from the night prior. Your mentions were still being flooded with the video from last night but newer content had been ushered in, namely fan edits using footage from your streams and, you assumed, his.

The only major difference, however, was the fact that Damien had responded to your DM from the night prior. The first message read:

It’s really no problem! My stream had mentioned your name before, too.

Followed by the second:

P.S. I think you’re cute, too.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. Mr. Damien Haas, the man that you had made a thoughtless comment on stream about, also thought that you were cute. Suddenly, the fact that you had been staring at him for the past hour seemed less stalkerish and more like a blooming crush. You wrote back:

Aw, thanks! Have you seen the newer fan edits? They’re all so talented.

You cringed at yourself. A cute boy started talking to you and you’ve suddenly forgotten how to be suave, not that you really were in the first place. But still, you liked to think you had some tact when talking to people that you found attractive.

Not even a moment later, there came a response.

Yes, I have, he responded. And I agree! They are all very talented individuals.

You looked from the monitor in front of you. You had about a quarter of the footage left to go through before you could start editing but this technically wasn’t due until the following night. Feeling emboldened by the fact that he had actually responded, you replied:

Are you going to TwitchCon on Friday? We should meet up or something.

Anxiously you awaited his response, taking his silence as an opportunity to watch a bit more of the footage and take down notes according to the sample they’d given you. Roughly thirty minutes later is when the next response came in, reading as an affirmative to both questions.

You didn’t respond, choosing to leave your social media for after you’d finished editing the video. Your heart still pounded, however. Just the thought that there was a possibility for the two of you to meet was, simply put, insane. You’d just heard of the guy the night before and decided that he was going to be your latest hyperfixation.

But who could blame you? He was a nice, funny guy that showed the slightest bit of attraction towards you. It didn’t help that you were a sucker for guys that were nice to you.

Fast forward to the Friday of TwitchCon, also known as the first day of TwitchCon. You and Damien had been talking steadily over Twitter DMs and just last night you had gained his phone number, giving you even more access to the man than you had before. But of course, who were you if you didn’t tease your fans with the prospect of you meeting.

The night before, at the end of your stream, you’d given your fans the little tidbit of information that you and Damien were, in fact, planning on meeting up sometime during TwitchCon and would be greeting fans together for an hour at your booth.

That sent Twitter into a frenzy, both of your combined fans getting your ship name to trend within the hour, which confused the hell out of a bunch of locals.

It was nearing the time you and Damien had set to meet up. The plan was you’d meet around twelve for lunch, take an hour for yourselves, before going back to your booth and meeting with fans for an hour or so as promised.

You had never been more nervous than you were in that moment. Not only were you about to meet your three-day-old crush but apparently a very popular YouTuber. You tried not to let the thought mess with your head. One of your friends, Wilbur Soot (who you played Minecraft with from time to time) was poking fun at you for being nervous about meeting a popular YouTuber.

After three years of streaming and gaining a solid following, you’d think you’d be used to meeting other popular content creators. But because it was him, you found yourself unable to think straight.

“What if I fuck up?” you asked Wilbur anxiously. He’d flown in from London for this event at your insistence and because you’d offered to pay half his airfare to get there and back. He didn’t have his own booth as his arrival was very last minute, but he didn’t mind. He signed the occasional poster though his main purpose was to provide you mental and emotional support.

“You won’t fuck up,” he comforted, leafing through one of the comics a fan had given you. The entire thing was hand-drawn, which was an insane fact in itself. It looked professional, which was what blew you away when you’d received it. “Well, you won’t fuck up as badly as you did when you first met Schlatt.”

You groaned in embarrassment. “Don’t remind me.”

Long story short, you’d dumped a red in color slushy on the man accidentally after tripping over an unmarked cable. It really wasn’t your fault but the boys hadn’t let you live it down since then.

Half a moment later, Wilbur was poking your side. “Is that him?” he asked, jabbing his pointer finger into your side while looking in the opposite direction. He was looking at a familiar figure walking down the hallway toward your booth. He stopped for a moment to take a photo with a fan, talking to them about something, before continuing on his way toward you.

Your eyes locked and you gave him a smile while trying to beat Wilbur into no longer poking you. He stopped when you slapped his arm the first time, sticking his tongue at you before going on his phone. You rolled your eyes at his half-assed attempt of pretending he wasn’t about to start listening in on your conversation.

“Hey, Y/n, right?” Damien asked as he approached. You nodded, reaching out for a handshake but becoming pleasantly surprised when he instead pulled you in for a hug.

“You ready for lunch?” you asked glaring slightly at Wilbur as he made kissy faces over Damien’s shoulder. Luckily, Damien hadn’t noticed your moron of a best friend.

“Yeah, I saw this sushi place on the way in if you wanted to try that?”

“I’d be down,” you agreed, reaching behind your table to grab your bag. Wilbur was set to meet with a few other Minecraft streamers, meaning you didn’t have to worry about him while you had lunch. You looked over your shoulder, making sure everything was set for you to leave before saying goodbye to Wilbur.

Over the course of lunch, you and Damien had gotten to know each other pretty well. Once the conversation moved away from your fans and, well, work, and more into personal details, you found that you actually weren’t all that similar. For starters, Damien loved watching anime while your guilty pleasure was Gilmore Girls. The one show you both had a love for, however, was Avatar the Last Airbender, which made sense.

Another thing was that he actually enjoyed being in front of the camera while you tolerated it on most days, really only putting on your face cam for the last thirty minutes on most days. Despite that, he still classified himself as an introvert.

You returned back to your booth much later than you anticipated, thoroughly shocked at the line that had formed with Wilbur at the front of it, entertaining the fans that had shown up early to meet both you and Damien.

“Y/n!” one fan called, pointing in your direction. Immediately, the entire line turned and gaped at the sight of you and Damien walking together. You greeted them happily, stopping for pictures and verbally promising that you’d stay until you got to meet everyone personally.

“You really love your fans,” Damien observed as you put your things back down behind the table. Wilbur had set up shop on your right side, chatting with a few people at the front of the line.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere without them,” you admitted, pulling a silver sharpie from your bag. You handed a gold one to Damien. “I also wouldn’t have gotten to meet you without them, which I’m still sorry about, by the way. Your feed must have been chaotic.”

“You have no idea,” he chuckled. “But everything happens for a reason.”

You nodded, grinning up at him. “Yes, they do.”

Permanent

@beautiful-holland @toms-order @starlightfound @grandmascottlang @positiveparker @bippity-boppity-boopa @caswinchester2000 @andreasworlsboring101 @imladylunaticbitch

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