#Subterfuge

[unoriginalgangsta]

Excuse me sir

[themightyhumanbroom]

Taking a few steps back from it all, it's hilarious how completely unprepared the Sonic fanbase was for even a low level case of subterfuge from Mimic. So many started blaming the wrong person so quickly its kinda funny in retrospect.

Like, for God's sake get a grip and use your brain! Lanolin isn't the enemy here! It's the shape-shifting asshole!

[mikoplushie]

[cerothia]

Update on that project (volume warning?)

[merasmurray-tarsi]

Pizza sauce-terfuge

why do my shitpost drawings take less time???

idk lol

[crambly]

Uhhh some stuff i did for pasta castle, an upcoming fangame.

Also, i made an alternative Subterfuge edit for halloween lol

[fat-tundra-64]

I should show off my paper sketches more often

[o0dsf0o]

YOU'RE NOT VERY GOOD AT WRITING, ARE YOU? based off of this design

[ephoxari]

She subterfuge on my cycles till I fake baby

[adnauseum11]

Check Point (John Price x Reader)

John makes dinner and you discuss decorating for the holiday.

1.1k words

CW: none - this is pure fluff. (Or is it?)

Feedback welcome!

This work is part of the S.N.A.F.U. series, the Masterlist is also pinned to my blog.

Masterlist

John is like the cat that got the cream the entire next day. He’s never out of reach, not exactly hovering, but staying within arms-length. He eventually talks you into watching football with him, which you do, curled around each other for a few hours. He’s only vaguely sorry about the bruises on your thighs, but mindful of them when jostling with you for position on the couch so you can’t get too annoyed with him. 

He offers to cook dinner, so you occupy yourself by dragging your box of Christmas decorations out. It’s not big, and half of the box are vintage glass ornaments you are too scared to actually hang on a tree, the glass thin and fragile and the ancient wire hangers rusty. You look up at John after carefully setting the vintage ornaments aside, trying to gauge how receptive he would be to going shopping this close to the holidays. His eyes raise off his task to meet yours, like he can feel the weight of your gaze. 

“I don’t have any of the hardware needed to get a tree darling, I think that may have to be a task for next year.” 

John speaks before you can say anything. You press your lips together to keep from smiling at his allusion to next year, something warming in your chest at his easy projection into the future.

“That’s alright, I was actually wondering if you would consider coming shopping with me tomorrow? I shouldn’t be spending more money right now but all my decorations are old and you have approximately…?”  

You hold up your hand to John, indicating he should fill in the blank you have left at the end of your sentence. He understands without having to be prompted. 

“None.”

“Right. Thank you.”

John sighs, going back to his task before replying.

“On a scale of one to ten, how necessary is this shopping? Worth dealing with the crowds?” 

You hum, thinking for a moment while you watch him work. You forget, sometimes, that John is a veteran with trauma. He’s so self-assured and confident that things like busy crowds and loud venues half the time don’t occur to you as potential triggers, just a normal course of life. A part of you knows that the landscape is different for John, last night being a prime example. 

“No, you know what, don’t worry about it. I can go on my own.” 

You cut him some slack, not wanting to put him through unnecessary hardship. That has him looking up at you again though, unexpectedly. He looks like he’s going to say something and then presses his lips together, redirecting himself to rolling a chicken breast around ham and cheese.

You don’t realize he’s still stewing on it until you’re setting up little reindeer figurines made of ceramics along the edge of the island where he’s working. 

“Do I get a say in any of this decorating?”

You look up at him, surprised. His face is serious, tracking your placement of the ceramic deer. 

“How do the deer offend, my lord?” 

You joke, unsure if John’s annoyed with the decorating itself or your choices. He shoots you a look that would probably have anyone else quailing. You raise an eyebrow, unimpressed with his grump and set the deer down in place firmly instead. 

“Don’t give me that look, what’s wrong with Vixen and Blitzen?” 

“Nothing.” He backpedals, but you aren’t having it.

“You wanted a say, let’s hear it then.” 

You gesture with your hand, encouraging him to come out with it. He straightens and looks at you steadily before surprising you again. 

“Why did you uninvite me?”

“Uninvite you? From what? Shopping?” 

You’re grasping at straws, trying to piece together what’s annoyed him about being let off from that particular task.

“Yeah. You asked if I wanted to go and then told me to forget it immediately. Is this because I don’t condone all that glitter?”

You can’t help the swell of affection that squeezes your heart, looking at him frowning down at you. His hands are held aloft, covered in chicken juices but you step into his side and wrap your arms around his waist tightly anyways. The snowman figurine with generous glitter had been a hard no from the former Captain when you had unpacked it. 

“No, it’s because I didn’t think it was fair to ask you to deal with the crowds. Your lack of festive spirit is a separate issue.”

“I can be festive.” He huffs, deflating slightly in your arms. 

“Say it louder so my snowman can hear you.”

He shoots you a look and you smile, patting his ribs before letting him loose again. 

“You can come if you really need to have a say, John. I just didn’t think it was worth putting you through all the hustle and bustle for just a wreath and some knick-knacks.”

“I know you; you say just a wreath and knick-knacks but you’ll be back here with more bags than you can carry if you’re unsupervised.”

That’s a fair point but you’ll be damned before you let John know that you agree. 

“Oh, well if I need saving from myself, I suppose you’re the man for the job.” 

You raise an eyebrow at him, casually placing another deer in the line-up. He shakes his head, wisely, focusing back on his work, placing the chicken on a baking tray.

“Trying to save the flat’s limited storage space, love.” 

“Hmm…I suppose I can believe that.” 

You agree easily, looking at him out of the corner of your eye. He smiles to himself, carrying on to wash his hands at the sink. You watch him, the strong lines of his back flexing under his old t-shirt as he moves. You can’t help picturing the way his back would look as he moves inside you and feel your belly swoop and face heat at the image it conjures in your mind. He turns to dry his hands and catches you staring, face flushed. He raises his eyebrows at you and tucks his chin, a look you know well as an unspoken question. The slow smile that curls across your face is anything but innocent. 

“How long is the timer set for?”

You can’t help asking, the thrill of teasing John perennial in your life, now with richer rewards for your trouble. He’s able to read your thoughts just as easily as you read him apparently because his answering grin is savage. 

“Long enough.” 

Your feet are moving before he’s finished speaking. 

Next Chapter

Tag list:

@deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch

Ao3

[brosauce]

wanted to practice some animation (first time trying to lip sync)

[thedeleteduser]

drew dogman again but this time i draw him without standing still?? whaaat???

[unknownkfox]

Scary Wenda

[cerothia]

Cooking up a Silly Subterfuge

[sushirrrry]

SUBTERFUGE — NEW ONE-SHOT TEASER

It had been six days, about twelve hours, and thirty minutes since I had last seen him. It may have been a bit articulate, but I digress.

The last remaining image of him that was concreted into my mind was the way that his shirt flew back over his long, lean torso, the boyish grin giving me a subtle flash as he noticed my stares from within the confines of the white sheets. He had mumbled something as he pushed his hair back on his forehead.

“A bit rude to stare, Kitty.” He had said, making a disastrous attempt at making himself unlovable as he used a nickname to my disadvantage.

It was then that I knew our sliding around, letting our discretion get the best of us was tempting fate in a way that neither of us could have thought of before.

Nobody in this room knows that we had seen each other six days ago. Or even seven days ago, or even nine days ago.

There had been a string of days that I hadn't even really thought about until I had seen him again. The question marks that sat in my phone like a string of unanswered, desirable status quos. It felt like our own secret language and way of being, but now so foreign.

Harry: ?

Kate: 10.

Harry: 5?

It would inevitably make me blush, throwing my phone onto my bed and I went to hop into the shower. There hadn't been a moment when I had these kinds of feelings– not just infatuation but these desirable wants and needs of a person who I had never thought of like that before.

The few weeks together had given me perspective that I had so deeply internalized mostly because I knew that it was just a moment in time; it was just a hiccup of need that both of us could give one another now.

It had just been the two of us– left alone for the summer.

When he walked out of the shower that day, towel around his waist to try and make his way to his bedroom, thinking I was at class, it was like neither of us ever thought twice. That was the problem– neither of us thought anything at all.

Now, here we are. At the judgement day of all of our best friends, back again for our senior year. No one has a clue, but Harry’s grumpier than usual attitude is there getting in the way of it.

Thank God it’s over now.

______________

hiii guys! I just wanna say a massive thank you to everyone recently sending so much love & appreciation for my writing! I love it so much— thank you!

also — if you want to send in a request for a one shot, want advice on writing, want to just talk, come ask! I'd love to chat 💌

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- em

[somarita]

do you want green peppers on a pizza man