#ahwm x reader

[visitationday]

Kissing Illinois

Just a handful of headcanons on what it's like to kiss this death-defying adventurer -- GN reader, below the cut!

Illinois kisses like he’s trying to take your breath away. He’s a charmer by nature, but it’s more than just raw talent — you can tell he really, really loves you when you kiss, and that’s what makes him so damn good at it. At some point you became more than just a partner, and became his partner. For a man whose been running from love all his life, the weight of this really can’t be overstated.

He’ll take basically any excuse to orchestrate a good, Hollywood-style kiss. If it’s raining outside, it’s best to make peace with getting drenched now, because you will be kissing in the rain. You always tell yourself you’re not gonna fall for it this time, but then you look at him, and with how his dark hair clings to his face as the raindrops come down… well, you find it hard to resist the temptation.

He’s also rather fond of pressing kisses to the back of your hand — he thinks it’s charming.

He likes to use his kisses as bribes, and embarrassingly, it does work. Now granted, you had already planned on crossing that chasm… but hey, you’re not going to turn down a reward.

But for his suave exterior, he’s actually very easy to fluster. Tug him in by the lapel, by the belt loop, hell, steal his hat, and you’ll be treated to the most starry-eyed adventurer this side of the Mississippi. He has to clear his throat before speaking again, and even then, he struggles to put together any sort of tease. He’s so used to being the one that teases that when you not only reciprocate, but take charge, that he just melts. He’ll never admit it, of course, but you take the wins where you can get them.

[venuss-heart]

Feel free to send me asks about Mack, engineer Mark or any of the characters I write for, I just wanna talk about them

[also, feel free to suggest what characters I should add to my characters list]

[mnt-artss]

happy april fools….. booping time

reblogs (and boops!) appreciated !!

[g0dwat3rwritings]

hi! i just found your blog and i’m excited to read more of what you’ve written :) could i request a markiplier x female reader (established relationship) where the reader has a bad parent situation but hasn’t told mark yet, and he one day brings up meeting her family and she’s all hesitant but he pushes, not realizing the reason she’s hesitant, so they go to dinner with her parents (who she doesn’t talk to often) and they are awful to her and mark and they leave early so he can comfort the reader? sorry for that literally being so long hahaha

𝐈𝐭'𝐬 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐢𝐬 𝐚 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐥.

𝐀/𝐍 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐬... 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬, 𝐦𝐲 𝐝𝐚𝐲 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞, 𝐈 𝐚𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐢𝐳𝐞. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐢𝐭!

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐇𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐥𝐲-𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐉𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐃𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐓𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭/𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐭, 𝐂𝐫𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐛𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠... 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐝𝐮𝐦𝐛 (𝐨𝐛𝐯𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬)

𝐑𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩: 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜

𝐓𝐲𝐩𝐞: 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬/𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐭 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 𝐄𝐝𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐅𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐡

You and Mark had been dating for roughly a year and two months.

He was probably one of the sweetest, and best, things you could ask for.

Your relationship with him was.. practically perfect.

Except for your parents.

You had a decent job, your dream job.

And yet, that wasn't acceptable to them

You made sure to keep your parents away from Mark, despite having met his mother.

You had kept your distance from your parents for some time, until Mark asked the question.

"𝐇𝐞𝐲, 𝐛𝐚𝐛𝐞. 𝐃𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐦𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬?" 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐨𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐝𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐋𝐢𝐱𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐥𝐩𝐞𝐝, "𝐔𝐡. 𝐈'𝐦 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞." 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐝, 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐢𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬.

Although, he continued to pester you. Not that you minded, you just.. didn't want him to meet your parents.

Eventually, he convinced you to give in and ask about having dinner that weekend.

Mark wasn't home when you asked, mostly because you knew how your parents would respond.

And your assumption was correct.

You told them you had a boyfriend, they asked how long you'd been together, you'd told them.

Then they started to yell at you, as expected.

Eventually, they agreed to the dinner. But you could just feel how your mother rolled her eyes, how your father stomped off as they both did when you were young.

At the dinner, you subtly made motions to show Mark that you'd rather die than stay there longer.

Your parents continuously made rude and harsh remarks that made Mark... kind of astonished that any parent could say that to a child.

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤'𝐬 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐚 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐲, 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐞. 𝐄𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐰𝐞𝐝 𝐟𝐫𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐲𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐦. 𝐇𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬. 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭, 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮.

Once you both got home, he took you inside and sat on the couch with you.

And then you broke down.

It pained him, deeply, to see you react like that.

He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you close, rubbing gentle circles on your back and humming a soft song.

Once you were calmed down enough, you explained everything to him.

And he comforted you.

Then, the two of you sat on the couch, binge-watching all of your favorite movies, and eating popcorn.

[mothgodofchaos]

You should write some Darkiplier fluff

Smug

Darkiplier x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 558

You right. Now you’re married.

Dark has been taking every opportunity to kiss you. This has been going on all day, and it’s starting to affect your ability to work. Anticipating him ambushing you around a corner or as soon as you walk into a room. Sometimes it’s a peck on the cheek, sometimes it’s him pulling you into the deepest kiss you’ve had in a long time, and you were wondering if he had plans of… escalation.

After he kisses your hand as you pass him in the hallway, with flushed cheeks, you’ve had enough.

“What is your problem today!?”

“I have no idea what you could possibly mean.”

“You! With the kissing! Stop it!”

“Is a man not allowed to adore his partner, and show it in any way possible?”

He leaves you sputtering, while he leans on his cane, looking a little smug. You meet his eyes and it’s not hard to see he’s absolutely lovestruck. Admiring your face, looking down your body, then back up to your face. To him, you are the most gorgeous being he has ever laid his eyes on.

“You can, but isn’t the kissing a little excessive?”

He approaches you, taking your hands in his, leaning his cane against the wall.

“Do you really want me to stop?”

“No…”

“Is there a problem with how I’m doing it?”

“It just catches me off guard… I can’t focus on anything other than you.”

“Maybe that is the point. Take the day off, for me.”

Dark raises your hands to his lips, kissing each individual finger, then your palms. You hold his face, rubbing your thumbs against his cheeks. He closes his eyes, letting out a soft growl at your comforting gesture.

“Alright, I will. Just for one day.”

Dark lights up, excited that his tactics have worked. You take his hand, grabbing his cane for him as you walk down to his private parlor. He coaxes you to sit on the couch with him, pulling you into his arms. It’s weird having him this touchy when he usually is content with the passing kiss or handholding usually.

“Is something going on today? Bad day?”

“I missed you. I missed the old you, before I hurt you. Before I was hurt.”

“Dark…”

You take his hand, rubbing his wedding ring to remind him it’s there. A simple silver band with a garnet and sapphire set into it. You gaze down at your own ring, rose detailing around the diamonds. He tried to go all out, and you had to convince him to tone it down. Your wedding was modest, a day spent together with just a few of the household members present, Wilford officiated. Although you’re not quite sure if he’s legally allowed to do that, it doesn’t matter.

“I love my hubby. Very much.”

“I love you. So much. I thank my lucky stars I have you in my life again.”

You turn towards him, getting him to lay back as you wrap your arms around his torso. He seems happy that you’re cuddling him, letting out quiet growls as you’re pulled in tighter.

“I don’t want this to end.”

“It won’t, not for a while.”

“Good. Because I am not moving.”

Dark kisses your cheek, settling in for a nap. Cheeky bastard got what he wanted, but it’s hard to say no to him.

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

I've been unable to work on my longer WIPs for some reason but take this. for lack of a better title:

idiots locked in the world's most romantically charged staring contest

Heist Mark x Y/N (reader) | 628 words

You wait just around the corner, quiet and out of sight, and lightly smack Mark's arm with the back of your hand when he tries to peer around you, lest someone see and you have both your covers blown.

Your partner rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and you level him with a stare.

You understand the anticipation, but patience is crucial for jobs like this. You wait for the signal. One wrong move could cost you a lot more than just your loot.

The little nook of the building you're waiting in is, rather conveniently for means of slinking around unnoticed, out of the way, and quite narrow. Even with Mark leaning back against the opposite wall, you are mere inches apart.

He checks his watch. 'Should be any minute now,' he utters in a hushed voice.

You nod. Several seconds pass. Distant chatter echoes down the halls, muffled into a steady background ambience of rich party attendees blissfully unaware of the thieves in their midst.

You look at your partner, simply because you have nothing else to do. He's craning his neck again in a futile attempt to peek around the corner more subtly.

His suit for the night is crisp, and gives his silhouette a sharper outline than the more typical cosy sweaters and soft flannel shirts. His hair looks especially dark cast in shadow, but there's enough light from outside the enclosed space that you see it reflected in his eyes. Softly glowing white and orange and magenta specs, floating on deep brown. Pretty.

It's as he turns his head back to face you, that he notices you staring, and meets your gaze without missing a beat.

Mark smiles, faintly roguish, but gentle and just for you.

He holds your stare, and something to the way he does so makes you wonder if he sees the same lights sparkling in your own eyes, and if he finds the sight as oddly captivating as you do.

A minute passes.

Mark loosens his tie.

It's a simple, small thing, but it stirs something inside of you, and you don't know why, but your breath hitches a little and your eyes widen slightly and he definitely notices. But he doesn't say anything and neither do you. All he does is keep looking intensely into your eyes until he doesn't because his gaze is flickering elsewhere — trailing across your features, settling on your mouth for longer than can be dismissed and when you bite your lip subconsciously it's as if he's mesmerised. You can hardly recall where you are or what you're doing here, none of it matters as much as his head tilting ever so slightly and then—

A voice through your earpiece jolts you out of your stupor. You suddenly take stock of the warmth from Mark's breath on your face. Your noses almost bumping. When did he get so close?

You press a button on your earpiece to answer the call, and by the look on your partner's face, he hears it too. It's Wubba and Bubba, giving the signal as agreed, and the moment is gone and your friend clears his throat and straightens up, as a confusing mixture of disappointment and frustration and lingering excitement flutter and twist in your gut.

When he moves out of your immediate space, the inches feel like miles.

You push the feelings down. You have work to do.

Mark mumbles something over the voice channel before turning back to you once again.

'You ready, buddy?'

The corner of your mouth quirks up, matching his own eager grin.

'You know I am.'

His grin widens.

'Good,' he says, adjusting his sleeve and finally getting a better look around the corner, now that the coast is decidedly clear. 'Alright, partner. Showtime.'

[districtattorney404]

the memories kept coming back to me...

oh Engy, how can I respond to your love now...?

[gaymingwriter]

Halloween With the Egos

(Well, some of them)

This isn’t my entire list of characters I write, but they’re some of my favorites and I’m writing this on the 30th so I don’t have time to write all of them. This is a headcanon list like my Valentine’s Day thing was

I’m trying to get back into writing, so I hope y’all like it

Characters in Order: Darkiplier, Damien, Googleplier, Date Mark, Illinois, Eric Derekson, Yancy, Jameson Jackson

Warnings: One part of Illinois’s is slightly suggestive

Reader is intended to be gender neutral and these headcanons are romantic (with a pre-established relationship). I wrote part of this while sleepy

Darkiplier

- He refuses to dress up

- …he’ll wear little devil horns or something else small if it makes you happy, though

- He’d probably prefer to take you to a fancy Halloween party, but if you wouldn’t like that, he’ll respect it

- If you go to a party, he stays by your side all night

- If you stay home, he’ll either make dinner or order takeout and watch some Halloween movies with you

- He likes horror movies (partially because you hold onto him if you get scared, but he won’t admit it out loud)

- He doesn’t mind at all if you dress up for Halloween. You look dashing and/or lovely and/or cute in your costume, so he certainly isn’t complaining

- Both of you head to bed fairly late

- Overall, a lovely night regardless of what y’all do

Damien

- Similarly to Dark, he’d also prefer to take you to a party. But he’s happy regardless of if you stay home or go to a party

- He’d love to do a couples costume!

- He likes the idea of a sun and moon couples costume. Regardless of which of you is the sun or moon, he thinks it’s fitting

- If y’all do go to a party, he stays with you the whole time. He wants to make sure you’re comfortable

- If y’all stay home, he helps you hand out candy to trick-or-treaters and orders delivery for dinner

- After the trick-or-treaters are all gone, Damien suggests spending the rest of the night watching movies

- Y’all end up sleeping on the couch all cuddled up

Google

- Doesn’t quite understand Halloween at first, but he does get that you find it fun

- He is willing to wear a costume, as long as it isn’t too silly

- You could probably convince him to do a vampire couple’s costume (though he may buffer for a moment, you do look very handsome and/or beautiful in your vampire costume after all)

- He’s content with staying home and handing out candy to any trick-or-treaters with you

- Afterwards, you can watch movies together and order takeout

- You fall asleep with him holding you on the couch

- Google likes Halloween now

Date Mark

- He suggests a couples costume before you October even starts

- He finds the most cheesy and sappy costumes ever

- Wants to be peanut butter and jelly because “we go together perfectly, just like peanut butter and jelly! <3”. This man is just too adorable sometimes

- You agree, much to his delight

- He halfway wants to make it a date night, but you remind him that there’ll be trick-or-treaters showing up

- He settles for takeout and candles on the table

- When you do start giving out candy, he gets some fold-up chairs so you two can sit close together without being on the ground

- After that, you watch a movie (he found a Halloween romance movie, and really wanted to watch it with you)

- Y’all fall asleep holding each other

Illinois

- He practically begs you to do an Indiana Jones related couples costume

- You agree and find a character you like to dress up as

- Illinois would love it if you dressed as a love interest (a genderbent version is completely fine with him if you’d prefer that of course), but he really won’t complain either way

- He does joke that you could always wear less clothes, but he shuts up when you playfully pull his hat down over his eyes

- He makes you dinner before the trick-or-treaters start showing up

- You make some cookies for the both of you

- After an hour or so of handing out candy, y’all leave a bowl of candy out so you can go back inside and watch movies

- After you bring the bowl in, y’all head to bed

Eric

- He would absolutely love to do a couples costume with you, but he’s a little shy bringing it up

- He gets much less shy when you tell him that you’d like to do a couples costume with him

- The two of you pick angel and devil costumes (him being the angel, of course)

- Y’all both have a lot of fun planning the night

- Eric makes some Halloween cookies, and you make dinner

- Y’all pass out candy to trick-or-treaters for a couple hours, before retiring to the living room

- As cute as falling asleep together in the living room would be, both of you agree that your room is more comfortable

- Y’all fall asleep to a campy and fun Halloween movie in there

Yancy

- So, he’s out on parole. He hasn’t had a normal Halloween since he was a kid

- Jokingly, one of you suggested that you two dress as prisoners for Halloween

- …at some point, it stopped being a joke

- He took a couple of his old prison uniforms and let you try them on

- If they’re too big or the right size, you use it as your costume. If it’s too small, you find some very similar clothes to wear

- Regardless, Yancy thinks you look adorable and/or pretty and/or handsome in his clothes. He does understand if you’d prefer clothes in your own size if his isn’t right, though

- Tonight, his tattoos on his knuckles say “Bats” and “Dark”

- (They just change somehow, neither of you really question it. You assume there aren’t many four letter Halloween related words)

- You order delivery for dinner

- Yancy had a lot of fun handing out candy to trick-or-treaters for the first time

- Y’all spend the rest of the night watching Halloween movies together <3

Jameson

- Poor Jameson has a love/hate relationship with Halloween

- He loves the holiday itself, but his run-ins with Anti all those years ago has made him a bit cautious

- You reassure him that everything will be okay, and that the two of you don’t need to do anything big

- Y’all find some 1920s style costumes and modern clothes so the two of you can do an “outfit swap” of sorts

- (Hell, if your clothes are the right size, y’all might as well just swap actual clothes. You’ll both probably get flustered seeing each other in your clothes, though)

- He had also crocheted some little Halloween related plushies, teaching you a little if you don’t already crochet

- He carved a small pumpkin with you. He really does love carving pumpkins, but he’s been cautious since that Halloween that Anti took control of him

- You’re very proud of him <3

- Y’all spend that night handing out candy to trick-or-treaters and relaxing at home until you fall asleep

[visitationday]

Kissing Heist! Mark

Just some thoughts on what it's like to kiss your favorite partner in crime -- GN reader, below the cut! <3

His kisses are spontaneous. One moment he’s stealing an adrenaline-filled smooch after doing 120 down a backroad, and in another he’s twirling you around the kitchen to steal one from you just after waking, before you’re coherent enough to even kiss back. He likes to keep you on your toes, in that way.

He’s very scatterbrained, although he’d never admit that to you. He’ll often place absentminded kisses to whatever he can reach while he’s working on some new project, or playing a game. He doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, really — he just subconsciously seeks out your affection in that way. He’ll deny it if you call him on it too, the bastard.

After a particularly dangerous heist — namely ones where’s he’s made a bit of a blunder — he’ll pout dramatically until you kiss him. Backs pressed against the wall, panting, hearts pounding so hard you can feel the blood rushing in your ears... and yet he still manages to press his lips together in a pout. It’s his way of asking if things are okay, really.

In quiet moments at home, he likes to ask you questions, before cutting off your response with a kiss. And he’ll do it again, and again, and again, until he coaxes a laugh out of you. Give him a taste of his own medicine — it won’t stop him from doing it again later of course, but you’ll start to see why he loves to do it to you all the time. His flushed cheeks, nose scrunching as he barks out a little laugh when he realizes what you’re doing… Yeah, you get it.

He also has a habit of murmuring dumb little jokes against your lips once he’s got your full attention — he’s horrible at holding his tongue at the best of times, but also, there’s very little he won’t do to get a laugh out of you.

[jazz-fics]

Something new…

I want to write reader inserts. While I’ll keep up with my OC writing I want to keep the door open to add more than just that and leave you guys empty of my content when I have no ideas for that OC.

Here’s the thing, my OC writing would take more planning than reader inserts because it fits a timeline for that OC. With a reader insert I can just use a prompt and a character.

Speaking of which, my inbox is open! Have a request for the following characters? Send it in!

Have Written:

Darkiplier

Yancy

Carlisle Cullen

Dr. Iplier

Dr. James Wilson

Lucifer Morningstar (Fox)

Dr. House

Prince Sidon

Have Not Written (but want to try)

Dean Winchester

Sam Winchester

Castiel

Dr. Strange

Iron Man

[elenavr13]

Echoes of Old Friends

Darkiplier x DA

Warnings: swearing

After the events of WKM, the DA attempts to move on & create a life for themselves despite being trapped in the mirror. Against their hopes & wishes, their past seeks them out in the form of a familiar face.

*What Could Have Been- Sting*

*I may expand this & turn it into a complete story in the future.*

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

            Daylight filters through the cracked glass reflecting the main entrance of the decrepit, forgotten manor. Mindlessly flipping through the pages of one of the books I have read a thousand times, I suddenly feel a chill crawl down my spine. What the hell? The physical feeling startles me back to reality because I haven’t felt anything like that in years. Immediately, I close the book & scan the room, nothing not even in the outside world. Faint tapping screams through the silence-drowned manor. Probably just the weather. After a few seconds, it occurs again. This time I realize the odd sound is coming from inside the house. My mind starts spinning with ideas of what type of animal has climbed through a broken window or one of the rotting walls. Maybe it’s another raccoon coming to search through the rubble or maybe the squirrel I saw the other day has come back. Excited to see a living creature, I get up to find it. Before I can even travel to the next reflection, a voice freezes me in place.

            “Y/n, I know you’re in there. Come out.” There’s people here!

            “Y/n?” I whisper to myself. Something about that name tugs at my heart. Then again that voice is also eerily familiar. I jump from reflection to reflection searching for any sign of the people with no luck. Suddenly, the realization hits me. Y/n, that was- is my name. My name is Y/n. I haven’t heard that name in years. The last time I…that voice…Damien?  Appearing in the mirror that holds my soul hostage, I see the man who used me & shattered my heart. Sorrow in addition to hope consumes me upon seeing him but it quickly gets replaced by bubbling rage.

            “Why are you back?” I seethe.

            “You don’t seem very pleased to see me.” His smooth voice provokes me.

            “& why should I be? You’re the last person I ever want to see.”

            His jaw clenches but he continues. “I can get you out of there.”

            “I don’t want your help.”

            He smirks. “Stubborn as always but I can give you what you want. All I’m asking is that you…”

            “I want you to leave.” He appears taken back.

            “Even after all these years you still blame me. We were happy before that night & we can still be happy if you will only listen to me.” Anger emanates from his voice as it increases in volume.

            Unfazed by his temper, I snap back. “We? There is no ‘we’ not after what you did, Damien.”

            “It’s Dark now.” He sneers

            “Oh, I apologize, Dark.”

            “That snake took everything away from me! I was merely protecting you from him. It was for the best.”

            “You know what would have been ‘for the best’? If I had never agreed to your fucking deal. I trusted you & you betrayed me. Mark may have been the cause of all this but he never did anything to me. You on the other hand took everything away from me! I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. Just leave me alone! Leave me alone like you have for the past however many years it’s been.”

            “91” My anger immediately dissolves from his simple answer. 91? It’s been 91 years since that night? I’ve been trapped in a reflection utterly alone for nearly a century?

            “You just expect me to agree to your plan after you abandoned me for a century? I’ve managed to make some semblance of a life without you- without anyone for that matter. I Don’t Need You. Why do you even want to ‘help’ me? I don’t have anything anymore. I am just a reflection of a person because of you. So tell me, what are you going to gain from ‘helping’ me? ”

            He continues to stare back with a blank expression which only ticks me off more. Before I do anything irrational –like I could– I begin to leave to another reflection in the manor. “I miss you.” His baritone voice stops me.

            Without turning back around to face him, I say, “Little late for that, Damien.”

            A deep growl keeps me in place. “I tried to play nice & you still view me as the bad guy. I thought you were better than that.” This time I spin on my heels to face the man I used to believe was my friend.

            “& I thought you were better than to destroy what we had.”

            “I didn’t destroy…”

            “Go ahead, keep blaming Mark for your actions.” Suddenly he takes a hold of the frame surrounding my vision of the outside world & rips the mirror off the wall.

            “I have heard enough of your insolence.”

            “Put Me Back! Damien, put…”

            “Stop calling me that name!” I glare daggers at him but he seems to be amused by it. “How are you even going to stop me, doll?”

            “I’m not your doll.” Rage gets the best of me I throw a punch which would have made contact with his smug face if not for the glass separating us. Instead of flinching, his smirk just grows as he leaves the manor with me in tow. I attempt to jump to another reflection but some force keeps me tethered to the single, wretched, glass prison. Knowing there is nothing I can do, I fall silent, exhausted from my outburst. Why can’t I just be happy? I was just starting to get better & move on. Now Damie- Dark is back to remind me of the life that was stolen from me. What did I do to deserve this endless suffering?

[pinkyplayz-blog]

While I figure out the iswm villan captain fic (still need help so if any advice please tell me) but I do have asks/requests open for fics I can write other things in the meantime

So please do that if you wish!

[alexthen3rd]

I am so unbelievably desperate for a Yancy & Murdock x reader where Yancy is a Vampire and Murdock is some sort of Wendigo and they both "share" Fem!Reader. Somebody please help me. I need them bad so desperately and I can't find anything with both of them. I am very serious right now. Someone please save me. I don't have the writing skills.

[mothgodofchaos]

Stupid

Wrote this on a whim, had an idea and had to get it out.

Darkiplier x GN!Reader, TW: none Words: 1130

You were stranded out in the rain by your date with no way of getting home, and against your better judgment, you called Dark. Shame burned inside you, not wanting to admit that you were relying on an ex-partner after failing to get a new one. But you had no other way of getting home, and the streets were far too dark and slick for you to even consider walking. You texted him the address after he hung up, going back into the restaurant as the winds continued to storm, threatening to soak you to the bone with chill rain. The poor host boy ran to get you a warm drink as you waited in their lobby, seeing you shiver. It was incredibly sweet, and you passed him what little cash you had on you for the gesture. 

Dark pulls up in front of the restaurant, and you sprint out to his car, clutching the to-go cup close to you under your coat as you clamber into the passenger seat. At the sight of you, he turns up the heat and puts on the seat warmer, incredibly concerned.

“What on earth happened?”

“He walked out on me… said he was going to the bathroom. Was I, stupid for believing him? We had only just ordered, but I knew he wasn’t coming back when they only brought out my food. And I stupidly agreed to let him drive me here.”

“No, I would not say that was “stupid” of you. Sounds like the issue was him, not you. The drive over here and ordering food is not nearly enough time for someone to make that drastic of a decision. At least he should have had the decency to tell you to find an alternative way home…”

Dark grips the steering wheel a bit tighter as he speaks, trying to both calm you down and keep his eyes on the road. The street lights reflect off large puddles on the asphalt, splashing onto the sidewalk as your tires cut through them.

“I’m sorry I called you, I’m sure you were busy.”

“Not at all, you know how I enjoy spending my evenings. Simply a few chapters into a book and about halfway through a cup of tea when you called. Something I can very easily pick back up. And I am sure you know, if I had found out you had to walk home in this weather, your inconsiderate date would have perhaps lost a few fingers, or limbs…”

It makes you laugh a little bit, the shaking from the cold finally settling. You pick up your drink, making careful two-handed sips as you don’t quite trust your grip strength after the cold made your finger joints a tad useless. The heat is turned down, making it easier to hear the rain outside and the tires against the road. Watching water droplets race down the window like when you were little. Dark glances over at you when you go quiet, his gaze softening when he sees you smile again.

“What happened to us?”

Your question cuts the silence, startling Dark a little. He waits, working through his thoughts to form a coherent response.

“We were younger, we wanted different things. No one was at fault, and I think that made it hurt more…”

“I don’t think we want different things anymore, Dames.”

His breath hitches, having not heard you call him that since your amicable break up.

“Are you done having your adventures out there? Are you really sure I am exciting enough for you?”

“You were always exciting enough for me. I was hoping you’d come with me.”

“...I am truly sorry I could not.”

The silence surrounds the two of you again, Dark adjusting his grip on the steering wheel as he focuses on the road again. You take the hint and go back to watching out the windows, the conversation not going quite as you had hoped. Maybe it was your broken heart trying to fill the void of tonight’s wound, maybe you were saying the things you wanted to for a long time. He pulls into your driveway, parking the car and taking out the keys.

“I will walk you to the door, I refuse to have you standing out in the rain, locked out.”

“Thank you, Dark.”

His larger frame blocks your back from the rain, despite the fact he’s not wearing a coat. The simple white button-down soaks in the water easily, plastering the wet fabric against his body. His tie is loosened, but clearly he never quite got undressed from his day out before heading to get you. It takes a bit of working, but your key unlocks your door and you push inside. You enter, shrugging off your coat as you turn back to Dark, him smiling softly at you.

“Would you like to come in?”

“No, I should not. But thank you, darling.”

He turns to walk back to his car, but you grab his hand. Dark turns back to you, confused.

“Something wrong?”

“Can we try again? Even if it’s just one time?”

His jaw clenches, and you can see the conflicting emotions behind his eyes. Water drips down his hair and down his face, closing his eyes as he lets out a long sigh.

“I should not. But I want to. You have always been my greatest temptation.”

“Why don’t we then?”

Dark looks away, a lone tear mixing with the raindrops on his cheeks.

“I am afraid you will leave me behind again… that I cannot be the man you want me to be. I am older now, I use a cane, my habits are those of an old man. I know this. And I do not want you to realize this a bit too late, and break my heart again…”

“I was stupid to leave you behind before. And I’m not just saying that. Leaving you here has been my biggest regret. I promise you that.”

Dark looks between your eyes, searching your mind and seeing you’re telling the truth. You know he doesn’t like to intrude, but you don’t blame his disbelief.

“Please, let me know if you get bored of me…”

“I will never get bored of you.”

You grab his tie, tugging him down into a kiss. He’s surprised for a moment at your bold move, but matches your energy as he cups your face. The two of you stand out in the rain on your front porch, soaked to the bone but you could not be happier with each other. When you part, you tug him inside, promising another book and more tea as your clothes dry together. And you’d never have gotten him back if that asshole had never left you at that restaurant. 

[amee-racle-ofmyown]

Hey, Amee!! I hope you’re doing well <3

If by any chance you’re up to it, could you please write a fic about Heist Mark being super jealous of Yancy because he and Y/N clearly seem to be into each other?? I LOVE your art and writings and I couldn’t get this idea out of my head <3 (Obviously no pressure, though!)

I'm so happy to hear you enjoy my work, thank you🥺💖 and thank you for your request! it got me out of a terrible writer's block. on that note, sorry this took quite some time, I've been in a bit of a funk of on and off general creative block, and unable to finish any writing at all for even longer. this was a pretty fun challenge! I myself view Yancy platonically so I wasn't quite sure where to go with this initially, and I had to fight every urge to just make this heist mark x y/n dfsjsjsv. that said, it did end up being more heist mark-centric than maybe you intended? in which case, I'm sorry, I couldn't help myself😔 yancy is there but very briefly haha

Don't you tell me that you never even thought, 'maybe we could run'

2,603 words | Read on AO3

‘We're all gonna be rehearsing tomorrow so youse best get some sleep.’

You nod as you close the gate to yours and Mark's shared cell, stifling a yawn.

‘Goodnight, Yancy.’

You hold each other's gaze for a moment, before he turns and heads off, a tattooed hand over the back of his neck and a sweet smile still on his face. You watch as he disappears into the outer hallway and a guard appears to lock up your cell for the evening.

Your long-time accomplice and friend stands at the edge of your vision, arms folded.

‘Having fun with your new boyfriend, buddy?’ he asks, sounding unimpressed and slightly strained.

‘Oh, shush, Mark,’ you chide, but your stomach flips at the notion.

‘Yeah… Well, while you were busy playing Broadway,’ he glances to either side of the cell outside and continues in a lowered voice, ‘I've been hard at work hatching our escape. And I'm telling you, it's foolproof.’

‘Uh huh. As foolproof as your other three failed plans? I really don't wanna get thrown in solitary again.’

‘Please, that was one time! — and I don't see you bothering to come up with any ideas. Even though you pretty much got us into this mess.’

That accusation ticks you off, but you're quick to retaliate.

‘Are you seriously still hung up on that? How is this my fault? You couldn't fly a helicopter, why would you assume I can? You shouldn't have even presented it as an option!’

Your exclamation earns you a couple looks from other inmates slowly filing into their cells for the night.

‘Nevermind that now,’ Mark says, infuriatingly placatingly, ‘do you wanna hear the plan or not?’

The thread of uncertainty that you've been avoiding coils tight in your chest and you pause, wondering how to bring up what's been nagging at you for days.

‘Um, so, I've been thinking. What if… what if we don't try to escape?’

‘Ha ha. Funny joke, pal.’

‘I'm serious, Mark. We could just… stay here and wait out our sentence, if we play it safe we might even get our time reduced on good behaviour. We could be gone in like a decade. Or a few years! Maybe. Probably. Maybe.’ Wishful thinking, perhaps.

He scoffs, as if the idea isn't even worth considering.

‘There is no way you're genuinely telling me to just wait it out. Maybe you haven't noticed since you've been in la-la land lately, but we're not on vacation, we're in prison,’ Mark spouts, voice growing thick with agitation. ‘What was supposed to be the heist of a lifetime, would've set us up for decades to come, is still on the line! And we're on a bit of a time crunch here — I don't trust that warden guy one bit with the Box, or in general,’ he sneers. ‘I mean what kind of name is Murder-Slaughter? Ugh, do we even know for sure if he still has it?’

‘Yancy mentioned seeing it in his office the last time he was there, which was earlier today, so yeah, probably.’

‘Ugh, there you go again about Yancy. It's always Yancy this, Yancy that, blah blah blah, Yancy!’

‘Wh– I was just answering your question!’

‘Y'know what? I'm sick and tired of being the only one taking this seriously while you act like it's all a big party.’

He places a hand on his hip, the other poking a finger towards you as he speaks. It would be comical, if he wasn't acting like a jerk.

‘What's up with you?’

‘What's up with me? What's up with you? You seriously wanna stay in this— this shithole, ‘cause of what? Some pretty face you've known for all of like, less than two weeks??’

‘Oh my God, Mark, it's not that terrible, and Yancy is actually my friend, he's been nothing but welcoming and kind since we got here, and—’

‘Oh, did you forget that he tried to beat you up when you first met? Real interesting, how you let that little detail slip.’

‘We just got off on the wrong foot, he's really—’

It's then that you see it — something in the slight hunch in his gait, the furrow of his brow, his pursed lips and tense jaw — and you wonder why you hadn't noticed before. It's not just anger and frustration, it's something bitter and personal.

‘Mark… are you jealous?’

Bingo. His eyes only widen a sliver, for a fraction of a second, but you're so used to reading him that even the most imperceptible of reactions on his usually very expressive face have become familiar to you.

‘Psh. I'm not jealous.’

‘You so are jealous! Oh my god, you're super duper jealous,’ you say with a grin, revelling in this new information.

‘Shut up, why would I be jealous?’ he protests, trying to sound nonchalant. But it's too late. You've already seen through it.

‘Is that what this is about?’ you say with a laugh. ‘You just want my attention back or something?’

He stares blankly for a moment.

‘Are you serious right now? You actually think the only reason I'm mad is because some random dude just waltzes in and starts acting all buddy buddy with you and you fall head-over-heels,’ he jeers with his hands either side of his face, fluttering his eyelashes mockingly. ‘Hook, line and sinker.’

‘Mark—’

‘I mean, never mind your partner, right? You know, your best friend who you've known and worked with for years? Who cares what he thinks?!’

‘Mark, I—’

‘In fact, he can get punched through a wall for all you care! You won't even bat an eye, as long as there's a random spontaneous musical number immediately afterwards, it's all in good fun!’

‘Ok, that's not fair,’ you push back. ‘Of course I was worried! But I was also surrounded by violent criminals at the time, we've been over this!’

‘Oh, so they're “violent criminals” now? But they're simply “hurt, misunderstood souls” when it suits you?!’ he shoots back, making air quotes to emphasise his point.

‘They're people, Mark! They're allowed to be… multi-faceted!’

‘Lights out, everybody,’ comes a guard's voice, ringing through the hallway as it suddenly becomes dark, save for the glow of dim lamplight emanating from one or two of the other cells.

‘Whatever, let's just get some sleep,’ Mark grumbles under his breath.

‘You always do this!’ you whisper harshly, but inadvertently let the volume slip back into your voice as you feel your blood boil. ‘You try to cut things off and act like the “bigger person” just to get out of an argument that, newsflash, YOU'RE LOSING.’

‘Oh, whatever, what-f*cking-ever!’

‘You're being so damn overdramatic, Mark! It's not like I'm trying to break up our team.’

‘Yeah, well– well maybe we should!’

You don't know why it jolts you like a gunshot when he says it, but it does. His words, the force and resentment behind them, pierce you to your core. It stops any quick-fire response you had at the ready in its tracks.

Regret immediately flashes across his face, but he quickly attempts to cover it with a steely, hardened gaze. ‘Clearly, we want different things. So maybe it's for the best.’

‘Hey!’ one of the guards calls out from across the hall. ‘Lights out means quiet, you two. Don't make us separate you into different cells.’

With a frustrated huff, you reluctantly traipse off to bed, yours being the lower half of the bunk while Mark settles above you.

It really is a rather decent bed. The mattress is nothing special, but comfortable, and the soft blanket is accompanied by an oddly luxurious, fluffy pillow. Definitely above what you'd expect is probably average prison standards. Frankly, you don't know what Mark's problem is with this place. It's honestly not half bad. As far as you expect jails go, it surely could be a lot worse.

You lay back and let your breathing even out, trying your best to allow some of the bubbling anger to die down. Eventually, you hear the guards leave.

Time passes, it could be minutes or hours; it's not like the passage of time has felt right at all to you since that last heist.

It's silent, save for the sound of your breaths and Mark's above you. You're still upset with him, but the sound of him breathing nearby has always been oddly comforting. The two of you have had plenty of close calls as a pair — even times when you had to patch each other up after jobs that went particularly badly. If you got injured on a heist, you couldn't simply call an ambulance or show up at a hospital in an emergency and risk having your whole operation blown. That was simply the nature of your line of work.

At the worst of times, as long as you could hear those steady, even breaths, you could tell yourself he would pull through, and things would be fine.

You idly watch the mattress above you, letting the rhythm of your friend's breathing become a gentle white noise, and think.

You think about that heist and the Box. Ancient, coveted, mysterious. Sitting atop its perch in the museum vault, in all its glory and allure, practically asking to be stolen. The gleam of the gem encrusted in its surface. You wonder if the prize held within would be worth all of this, if you managed to get it back.

You think about Yancy, a little rough and a little troubled and not seeing much point in trying to kick old habits; but fun and soft and sensitive and full of remorse. You think about the feeling of your hand in his when you practise a routine with him, how his whole face lights up when he's excited or falls when he's sad or pensive. You think about how he has made this penitentiary into a home, and these inmates into a family.

You think about Mark. Silly, stupid, steadfast Mark, snarky and thoughtful and loyal. Who isn't actually as dumb as he lets on. Who is resourceful and quick-thinking when a plan needs to be formed. Who makes bad puns and trusts you whole-heartedly, and who always lets you decide which course of action to take, no matter how much he disagrees, simply due to his unwavering faith in you. Mark, your co-worker, your friend, your partner in crime. Who is maybe a little enamoured with you, despite you trying to ignore it. Who you half-heartedly agreed to go on a date with, not having it in you to turn him down, nor prepared for the guilt that would be eating away at you now.

You think about one of the first things he told you when you landed yourselves at Happy Trails: About how he doesn't belong here, but maybe you do. What if he were to leave and you were to stay? The thought breaks your heart a little.

Then, a whisper from above into the quiet, gently interrupting your thoughts.

‘Hey, you still awake?’

‘...Yeah.’

You hear his voice, soft-spoken, but clear enough that you can hear the sincerity laced into it.

‘I… I'm sorry. I didn't mean to get so worked up.’

‘Yeah, I'm sorry too,’ you reply, matching his volume.

‘And I didn't mean it,’ he says, and you think you hear the slightest tremble in the statement, almost as if he's fighting tears, and for a second you wish you could see his face, ‘what I said before, about uh, splitting up. I know I joke about that kind of thing all the time, and not coming back for you… But you know I don't really mean it, right?’

You've certainly had your doubts in the past, but those moments seem so far away now; footnotes in a slowly unfolding tale, stepping stones on the journey the pair of you have taken together as you worked your way from theft to theft to get to this point. As much as you'd butt heads over the years, you could always count on each other and you always stuck together.

‘Right?’

‘Yeah, I know…’

‘...And, alright, your lack of interest in breaking out aside, maybe I am kinda jealous.’

‘Ha! I knew it.’

‘Yeah, yeah.’ He sighs. ‘It's just… it took us a while to be like we are now and yet, you're suddenly so close to him when it hasn't even been that long, it just doesn't feel fair. I dunno, it's stupid.’

‘Nah, I get it. I'm sorry if I made you feel left behind.

‘And I'm sorry if I ever made you feel pressured into something you're actually just not all that into.’

You feel a bit of tension leave your chest as a small smile appears on your face. ‘I appreciate that.’

In some ways you're grateful for the small bed separating you and preventing you from being face to face. You think it makes this easier for both of you.

‘I don't want to lose you, y'know? I mean, we're supposed to be partners. Ride or die, remember?’

‘Oh, Mark… You know I still trust you with my life…’ You pause, considering your words. ‘For the first time in ages, things feel a little more complicated than just being about us.’

A beat, then you hear him inhale, and he says your name, foregoing any of his usual nicknames.

‘...Are you… happy here? Does he make you happy?’

‘There's things I miss about freedom, sure, but it's not so bad here. And let's face it, our crimes were probably gonna catch up to us eventually, one way or another, right? And Yancy…’ You let out the smallest huff of laughter, smiling to yourself once again. ‘You're right, it hasn't been very long… There's just something about him, I guess. I know he might be a little much at times but I enjoy being around him, and he honestly seems like he wants to make up for things he's done in the past by being here. Maybe nothing will come of this but even so, in a weird way, he kind of makes me want to do better?’

Mark breathes a good-natured huff of laughter as well, and the two of you take a moment to muse on the irony of that sentiment.

‘I just– I can't handle being stuck here,’ he finally says. ‘But you're right, nothing I've tried so far has worked, anyway.’

‘Y'know… Yancy knows all the ins and outs of this place. He could probably help us if we wanted it.’

‘Do you want it?’

Do you want to leave or stay? The real question beneath it all.

You're quiet again, and it feels as if every possibility is laid out before you, only obscured.

‘I don't know,’ you say eventually. ‘I need more time to think. I just don't want you to think I'm making a choice between you or him, there's so many other things I need to consider. That we need to consider.’

‘That's fair… Just don't take too long, ok? Not like we can pause or rewind time, haha.’

‘Right… In the meantime, could you at least try to get along with Yancy and the others? You might like them if you give them a chance.’

‘... Fine, I'll try,’ he acquiesces.

You raise a hand to your mouth to cover a yawn. A far more comfortable silence falls over the room, and you start to feel sleep overtake you.

‘... Hey, Mark?’

‘Yeah?’

‘We're still partners.’

If nothing else, you hope this will reassure him.

‘...Ok. Sweet dreams, partner.’

[districtattorney404]

little sketch I guess?