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batsplat · 10 hours ago

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as might have come across by now, i love doing dumb rankings for things, which obviously includes ranking top ten riders after the season ends. which is only fun to do if you do not take it too seriously!! this is just as a laff. did it very very quickly top off my head before listening to the race podcast episode ranking the riders so I could argue with them in my head, was curious if they'd change my mind on anyone, they did not

just for reference the race's combined rankings were: 10) vinales 9) binder 8) zarco 7) diggia 6) bastianini 5) fabio 4) bagnaia 3) acosta 2) marc 1) jorge (impressive this did actually match up in terms of the riders i picked because i swear their one last year was bizarre)

here is my quick fire justification for each

Next off - always a coward's concept but idk, I'm clearly too fond of aleix. retirement privileges. the poles were neat, the races frustrating but ultimately also a bit inevitable feeling, too much of the year too anonymous. flyaway kinda a waste (also it makes sense to have a next off in this case because there was not a single other rider I considered even for a second for this list, like it's very much a grid in two halves for me this season idk)

10. Diggia - was generally impressed and happy he cracked on from last year, love athletes getting better at things. It's the Marc comparison that kills him for me. You don't need to be beating marc but you need to be close to him SOMETIMES and like. finish ahead of him when he's not gotten a penalty. just do not think the gp23 was quite as poor as the non-marc riders were looking, have to accept that bez's season was basically a write-off and go from there. Late stretch with the injury was really strong - positive season by his standards but that ends up bagging him tenth

9. zarco - some really impressive pace on a really poor bike. The qualifying is obviously the big thing, like the one lap pace was just consistently... surprisingly impressive.... Felt very yamaha era, I didn't realise he still had that in him. Races meh but no more so than other Honda's and he showed a little of what that bike was capable of. zarco to me feels like one of those riders who does need to feel comfortable in an environment to properly perform, and I get the vibe the lcr set-up is doing him a lot of good. still a bit of a war criminal sometimes in races - but unlike a couple of riders who did not make this list, at least he actually backed it up with a little bit of magic

8. Vinales - man this guy... I mean cota was obviously amazing and so was portimao tbh, but unfortunately it's a twenty round calendar. The starts are abysmal even by aprilia standards, after phillip island I made a vow with myself to never put him in my fantasy league team again and then broke that at catalunya ii, a race I'm not convinced he was physically present for. also with all love and respect for aleix, genuinely remarkable it's taken three seasons for vinales to actually get the better of him - and even that was helped by aleix disappearing over the flyaway stretch. extremely vinales season, we all know what we're getting at this point

7. bastianini - not even BAD as much as I found it deeply uninspiring. obviously also pretty damning he failed to secure third place. he flirted with the idea of involving the best bike on the grid in the factory team in a title fight two thirds into the season, then instantly changed his mind. just basically IMMEDIATELY crashed when the title contender shouts started... so much for the consistency thing when he's actually pushing huh. the qualifying h2h with pecco is criminal, which to some extent reflects well on pecco but. not that well. Late race pace gimmick only takes you so far buddy. Fell off less than the three guys ahead of him in the standings, but at least those three were clearly trying to be fast which fundamentally I think is a good idea in motogp. I also still haven't forgotten whatever tf he was getting up to in the catalunya i race, though admittedly catalunya ii was in itself a memorable follow-up. the post-race aleix comment is a genuine contender for the funniest thing anyone has said all year and almost pushed him into my top ten just because of how much i enjoyed that. and now for the good stuff!! when bastianini's on it he's clearly super fast, the late race pace gimmick DOES still do crazy things sometimes, and he did have some serious consistency going for him even when he was twenty seconds back on the other guys. race craft always been a bit dubious to me but like. points for pulling some of those moves off without crashing. improved his sprint performances and did manage to bounce back from serious injuries last year. interested to see how he gets on next year

6. Binder - I did not think I was being generous with this ranking!!! he was the top non ducati points scorer and I still believe on balance the gp23 is a better package than what binder had. sure, this was another pretty uninspiring season but like... maybe the issue is that I've long felt binder was overrated and the ktm was underrated, like I never bought this whole 'he'd win a title on a ducati!!' talk. so I felt vindicated early in the season and then I got over it and could appreciate the performances he put in. he outscored a guy I think most people agree is a truly generational alien-level talent - didn't outperform him, but that is still a respectable accomplishment. the ktm might not have slipped down the pecking order but it WAS relatively further adrift from ducati than last year - lack of peaks hurts binder post Qatar and how pedro just reliably seemed the best ktm in terms of pace but. y'know. that gets you sixth

5. pedro - yeah man, what a stunning rider. I always try to set the hype levels low when a guy is switching class because you truly never know, but he's the real deal. felt very casey-esque in vibes more than result in that his ultra promising start to the season actually slightly hurt him afterwards, but quite frankly this is also down to bike performance and him overreaching on machinery that doesn't allow it. you could feel him losing his patience... he's hungry and knows he should be fighting right at the sharp end of the field. which is fine - to a degree. inevitably some of the mistakes end up costing him in this ranking, even though I still feel like they tell me nothing about his ultimate potential. the comparisons to marc's rookie season are worse than useless because if you really think marc wouldnt have crashed more in his rookie races than he did if his debut had been with, idk, Ducati ... Idk what to tell you man. Hopefully he's gotten some of the stupidity and recklessness out of his system, but yeah he could do with that bike things none of the other riders could. also CONSISTENT high pace - even if the conversion wasn't always what is should be, he really was almost always the fastest ktm rider in any given weekend. looking forward to next year if ktm still exists

(also sorry but you CANNOT rank him this much higher than binder if he's been outscored by him on the same bike, like it's a top ten best riders not top ten riders who you vibed with the most. binder outscored pedro and u put him SIX places lower in the rankings?? it's not supposed to be a ranking relative to expectations - maybe this is also what hurts marc slightly in my rankings... he clearly adapted very well to the ducati BUT the fact that he was adapting just inevitably meant some of his performances especially early in the season weren't quite *there*, which knocks his ranking slightly. this 2 me is how you do a ranking of the 'best')

4. Fabio - the problem with ranking fabio is that fundamentally you cannot really compare him to some of the guys in this ranking because he is just riding with a completely different set of challenges and priorities. he's not under the strain of a title fight, he's not got a decent benchmark (think the injury is still a serious factor), the eye test tells me he was highly impressive but I also can't really rank him higher. he has a massive machinery deficit but also fundamentally that means if he has a shit weekend, he's going to just be essentially invisible. even though I fully believe he would be right up there with the guys ahead of him given the correct machinery, if not beating them, just kinda inevitably means he cannot put together as complete a season as the guys ahead of him. also helped by how the Yamaha has gotten generally somewhat better over the course of the season, which means recency bias is swaying me. really recaptured some of that old qualifying magic at times. That race where morbidelli took him out haunts me. He's also kinda hurt by me not seeing enough of him on my screen but this is not his fault. I would be fine putting him first lol

3. marc - he's very likely gonna win the title next year, for now he gets third in this ranking. in the pro column is obliterating with the gp23's, though quite frankly that also reflects how unimpressed I was generally by most of those guys. I think the bike was nowhere near as good as he made it look for much of the year, especially given the rear tyre situation... I also don't think it was quite as poor as his fellow gp23's regularly made it look. he adapted very well to the bike especially at his age, he showed he still has the old magic, he did everything he needed to this season to fight for the title next year. a lot of the year he spent riding with bikes he had no business racing, there were some inspired rides through the field, and all three of his sunday wins were impressive in different ways. he also had more than his fair share of bad luck. but y'know, he was in the title hunt vibes-wise long enough that it's worth pointing out he finished over a hundred points off the top two in the rankings. which probably feels like more than it is given the sprint factor - still, percentage-wise that clocks in at just under eighty percent of bags' points... I'm not discounting the machinery difference but it makes me more comfortable with giving him third. the qualifying isn't actually as poor stats wise as it FEELS (average grid position another stat you can whack bastianini with if you are so inclined btw), but it still wasn't what it should have been. gp25 will probably be good enough he can at least slot in besides pecco, but he doesn't want to get into that 2015 era valentino habit of continually having to do Very Impressive Rides with great overtakes and all the rest of it from pee nowhere at the end of the first lap. also a bit too crash-y - and I do give him one or two penalty points for stinky race craft working his way back up the order lol. he's too old for that, and also there may come a time where he does need to start watching that crash count a bit more (throughout the weekend). maybe it's sustainable, but it might well not be. I didn't like those numbers in his prime, I like them even less now. all that being said he could easily go first in this ranking and I almost put him there, to me there's no real distinction. post-summer break I think I would put him first

(editorial note: twas interesting to see catalunya ii qualifying felt like the first time catching a tow off pecco actually *worked*, and I am a little bit curious if that was because pecco was deliberately attempting to give him said tow or whether he's figured out not to bin it on the ducati in that situation. watch this space ig)

2. Bags - the fastest rider this year and should have been champion, so of course you have to penalise him for not winning. I do actually think he performed better than martin but also he had the factory apparatus behind him and martin did what he needed to do. seven crashes - one he was completely blameless for, two racing incidents he was at most in that 40-60% range for, four on his own. I find the sepang sprint crash quite excusable, catalunya sprint I am pretty unimpressed by, misano ii I honestly still don't understand anything about his race and Silverstone sprint I am very meh about. the racing incidents do feel like major punishments for minor crimes but fundamentally just like... don't be in that situation I guess. if you don't watch where you're going when you cross the street under a green light and get run over, even if it's not your fault that won't actually do you much good. genuinely had some quite poor luck, like I don't think all this bike/tyre stuff was just bullshit on his end - same with martin last year at... I want to say qatar? shit happens. I do think he needs to get more serious about sprints, though to some extent his ranking reflects a continued stubbornness on my part on the sprint front. you're supposed to be fast on a sunday!! he was fast on a sunday. eleven wins are eleven wins and don't suddenly get erased if you don't win the title - sure he was on the dominant bike but he wasn't the only one. eleven wins can be used to slam him but fundamentally they are still eleven wins. and did I mention that he did ungodly things to bastianini in some of their h2h's, who theoretically is quite a highly rated rider... I am always a fan of a good exercise in futility and some of his late season performances very much moved me. decision making sometimes a bit ass, race craft less so. hope he doesn't die in a ditch next season

1. jm - yeah man what can you say, just such an impressive all round season. you can penalise him a bit for the win count I feel ... It's one of those weird seasons because apart from mid season he generally ended up in a position where he was *defending* a points lead, so it was consistently sensible for him to settle for results rather than do anything silly. But there was a lot of settling!! I think it's easy to complain about that on entertainment grounds, but fundamentally this was probably his one shot to win a title (after last year) and he did so. both him and bagnaia made a step up from last year which as stated earlier on I always appreciate - I still think pecco is the all round better well rounded rider with more to his game, but also literally who gives a shit. it's about winning the title!! shout out to his starts... I don't like how important they are in the current version of the sport but they are and his are consistently excellent. the qualifying battle between him and pecco is worthy of mention in its own right - I KNOW you don't get points for qualifying, I'm not even that big a qualifying girl normally, but idk some of those sessions moved me. doing all that with a satellite team (albeit a very well-supported one) and knowing he was leaving next year... yeah. now admittedly he did do the single stupidest thing I'd seen all year when he changed bikes at misano i, which if I had my way you'd get negative points for, but also all those guys behind him made mistakes so whatever. I find the sachsenring crash fairly excusable, the jerez one a lil less so but also fine, mugello sprint was a wee bit silly and likewise indonesia. did also potentially get extremely lucky marc crashed when he did in thailand - if martin's right and he would have crashed there, that's double the title-winning margin right there. race craft a bit eh and I feel like I never really expect him to win any of his encounters with pecco and Marc (and even bastianini), but also le mans was great so. Doubt he'd be champion without sprints but we do have the sprints, congrats on a great season etc etc

and there u go. top five are interchangeable for me and so are the bottom five but i feel quite strongly about which rider belongs in which group. fun season, i enjoyed it

#//#brr brr #current tag

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nerodivergentgrimreaper · 2 years ago

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CastleAudio Werewolf HeadCanons

Here are some personal headcanons that I have for a few of the pack members please let me know if there are any other characters you want head cannons for or if you want any of the characters in certain situations

Claire

- Claire can’t cook, she has burned water. However, she is very good at mixing drinks. She can make a drink for every occasion.

- She wakes up at the ass crack of dawn, I’m talking before the sun even thinks about rising. Gets dressed, goes on a run, and gets coffee before anyone in the pack wakes up.

- That being said she goes to bed super early, like 9:00- 9:30

- She has a binder full of facts about each of her pack members. I’m talking Birthdays, interests, even finger prints.

- Because of this she is the best gift giver. She plans the holidays out two months in advance.

- She on multiple occasions has picked up younger pack members from awkward situations. It’s reassuring that they trust her enough to call her when they need help.

- She let Sweetheart/ Knight tattoo her when they first started their apprenticeship, the tattoo itself is bad but the memory is one of her favorites.

- She hates heels, can't stand them, She has no idea how Beth can walk around so casually in them.

- She lives in a leather jacket and jeans, Beth and Ro make jokes about how stereotypical their Alpha’s outfit is.

- She has always been tall and is very self aware about her height and how it makes her look more intimidating.

Beth

- Beth will forever feel guilty that she didn’t help Claire more during the night of the accident

- She unlike Claire hates mornings with a passion, if it were up to her the world would not start until noon.

- She wants to get a tattoo but has no idea what to get. She wants it to have meaning but can’t make a decision.

- She either could look like a million bucks, dress, heals, hair done, or she is dressed like a middle school boy.

- Beth doesn’t get sick often but when she does it's bad, I’m talking in bed for a week, can’t function at all.

- Secretly loves romantic comedies

- While she doesn’t have a sweet tooth she loves spicy food. Her cabinet is stocked with spicy ramen for the days she doesn’t feel like cooking.

- She finds sewing very calming but the actual process of make clothing stressful

- She can play the piano, she used to take lessons but now its just turned into more of a party trick

- She can sprint in a pair of stilettos

Knight/SweetHeart

- Knight works as a tattoo artist most of the time but also does odd jobs around town for some extra side cash

- They are a jack of all trades. You need your car fixed? They got tools. You locked yourself out? They’ll pick and change the lock for you. You need a rollerskating buddy? Give them a minute to find their skates.

- They are also very observant. While they are more of the quiet type, they listen and watch and just over all gather information.

- Most of the tattoos they have they did themself.

- When they are angry instead of the silent treatment they will just shift and stare at you in wolf form to avoid having to talk.

- They live for horror movies, it's one of their favorite ways to pass the time. (It's also a great excuse for Evie to hold on to them).

- They are dyslexic. Can’t read for shit.

- They are a strong believer in hydrate or diedrate.

- They have a lot of sketchbooks full of drawings of the pack members and nature.

- They have a little turtle named Mikey (Yes after the Ninja Turtle)

#castleaudios #castle audios beth #castle audios claire #castle audios knight

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pfhwrittes · 1 month ago

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💚💚👋👋

I'm so ready for the weekend! My partner and I are going to see a traveling Dracula play, and I'm ready to relax a bit.

I loved the costumes you picked for the 141!! I personally love Halloween (like every other American on this planet lSTG) and get so into the planning. One year, my partner and I looked up how to make fake human meat (pork, beef, and lamb if you're curious) and made Sweeny Todd pies for our friends. Interestingly, people get really weirded out at the idea of eating something that (hypothetically) tastes like people. Which one of the 141 would eat fake people meat do you think?

Also, I love all the transmasc reader stuff you reblog/write 💚

I'm so happy you don't mind chatting back to me - I don't write enough to be a wellknown fanfic author, so this is a nice way to get to speak to other people in the fandom! Thanks for always answering my rambles 😁

(tw for food mention and cannibalism - but like, fake cannibalism. hypothetical cannibalism. no humans are consumed in this ask!)

hiya friend!

those sound like great weekend plans! i'm hanging out at my parent's place this weekend and helping out with a (partial) family dinner tomorrow. i'm in charge of making herby dumplings and veg prep because i complain endlessly about boiled carrots.

i absolutely love how into halloween most americans are, you all make it really fun!

oooh sweeney todd "meat" pies? oh hell yes. i've never met a pie i didn't like. i'd definitely be up for trying it!

Which one of the 141 would eat fake people meat do you think?

i think both of the johns (soap and price) would be up for eating the lamb/pork/beef blend.

price because (like me) has never met a pie he didn't like and soap because he's a Freak (affectionate) like that.

i think gaz would crack a joke about it not being the only kind of meat soap's had in his mouth before, making soap choke and gaz to howl with laughter.

ghost won't touch 'em and it doesn't matter how many times you tell him that it's just minced beef/pork/lamb. don't worry you can make it up to him by luring him back with biscuits decorated like little skeletons.

aw, thank you! and thank you for the reminder that i need to update my binders and boyfriends masterlist too!

i'm always happy to chat friend, i hope you have an excellent timezone and feel free to drop a link to your writing if you want!

#pfh answers #💚💚 anon #tw food mention #tw cannibalism #<- it's fake cannibalism but i'm tagging anyway #💚💚 anon you're a delight!

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mi4012sayakagunasekara · 4 months ago

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Set Building Day 3

So what was initially supposed to be a class for MI4016 was instead Day 3 of our set building (Ravindu and Trishan were kind enough to let us work through the entire day for this)

So the approach today was to focus on the props and the furniture. We decided to rework on the TV as well.

So Thameena decided to mainly focus on the measurements and cutting out the pieces for the props and then Uvindu created the cover for the TV.

Thameena then decided to focus on the doors

I was in charge of the chairs but then the curve factor of the reclining seat wasnt working, So Uvindu came to the rescue and I instead created the cushioning

I then called Cain to discuss the measurements to make the built in bookshelf, the blinds, and the windows on top. through via whatsapp call

^measurements for window blinds and window

^measurement for bookshelf (Lion RAWR XD is Cain btw)

^Cain had also finished making some of the files

We are now moving into the next part of the post which is,

The Struggles;

So there were a lot of struggles today and our miscommunication was put in spotlight today and to say the least I was somewhat stressed out (even the lecturers had pointed it out-)

There was a lack of cohesion in the group and we were pretty much running around like headless chickens as we just doing things off the top of our heads and Ad Hoc wise. In short it was so chaotic.

When we finished our own stuff and didnt know what to do, we spoke to each other and realized that we were quite literally were lost and didnt have much of a plan.

So last minute Uvindu made a Google doc with all the props we needed because we (mainly me) started panicking because Ravindu and Trishan started pointing out how difficult the set looks and how they were also worried at the state of things

the google doc:

The edited pictures of the set, where we got help from Movindul to increase the brightness of the set:

I. started. to. crack. like. an. egg.

So I was definitely lying to myself saying we had things under control but then we started communicating with each other on our respective roles and the items we had to make. After this discussion I was slightly more calm, and then we proceeded with the plan of finishing everything over the weekend and set the deadline date on Monday so that we could have 2 extra days for ourselves in case if we need to finish more stuff.

We finally accepted our unique dynamic which I will like to term it as "Chaotic Order" despite everyone being not sure of what to do, we somehow did the work and if one felt the other wasn't doing the job properly they would immediately address it and take over.

Essentially there were a lot of overlapping roles, an example would be the role of the leader of the group and how Uvindu and I would take the role from each other. nothing was really construct and sound within the group's dynamic.

We also finally accepted our slogan which is

"If it works, it works"

So the next day, we decided to have a group meeting after the 3D lecture to discuss the plan with everyone (to solidify our approach for the last few days), and to also temporarily place the props together so we can have a basic idea on what we have completed so far as well.

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jilyarchive · 2 years ago

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OCTOBER AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: MISSGRYFFIN

Q: Where can we find you and your stories?

A: @missgryffin, AO3

Q: How would you describe your writing style?

A: Intense, sexy, snappy, and fast-paced. I have a rampant imagination and love a good sexual tension build-up, so my fics usually include a lot of plot, drama, and (of course) smut.

Q: How do you come up with ideas for your writing?

A: It’s such a grab-bag. A pretty substantial number of my fics have originated from prompts, actually! I also draw a lot on TV shows/movies I’ve seen, novels I’ve read, tropes I see that I’m inspired to try, etc. Also, I find that a lot of my ideas actually form while I’m writing. I’ll go in with a sense of direction, but it’s not until I’m writing and really in the thick of it that the details take shape, and then new ideas begin to spout off from there, based on what I learn about what the characters and story need.

Q: When and why did you begin writing fanfiction?

A: Technically, during the two-year wait between the releases of books 5 and 6, because I was utterly HP obsessed, my imagination was in overdrive thinking about what could happen in the final two books, and I had discovered MuggleNet fanfiction / FFN by that point, so I’d been devouring all of that early era of HP fanfic. I actually have a giant binder of my own fanfic writing from that period; I would type up stories in Word, format them with fun fonts and fan art covers I found online, and print them out for myself. (Which, I still do this!) Fun fact: there’s even a Marauders story in there that I had completely forgotten about that has a striking resemblance to the bones of Eternal Summer. It genuinely freaked me out a little when I found it, ha!

But even though I wrote creatively through most of my childhood/school phases of life, I had taken a pretty substantial break in early adulthood and didn’t “return” to writing until the pandemic in 2020. Life was bizarre, Netflix had gotten boring, and I was craving a creative outlet or hobby that could make lockdown bearable. I randomly stumbled my way back to fanfic / fandom, and here we are!

Q: What’s one thing you’d tell someone who is considering reading one of your fics?

A: Buckle up! 🎢 Also, I hope you are either i) at home, or ii) have a really great NSFW poker face 😅 But to give a more serious answer, I’d say that I write a wide range of tones, and I really lean in to what that tone is. If a fic is tagged for fluff and crack, it will be so adorably sweet and cringe-funny that your face will hurt from smiling. If a fic is tagged for angst and darker themes, it will feel like a knife to the gut. (If it’s tagged for all of the above—cough Eternal Summer cough—you’re at the front of a line for a wild rollercoaster, my friend!) Since I write both extremes, I’m never offended when readers skip fics or prefer one “genre” to another. But please know that Jily is always endgame in all of my stories—that’s the whole reason why we’re here 💗

Q: What are some of your favorite Jily tropes?

A: Enemies to lovers is my #1, even if it’s more of that “enemies-ish” rivalry at the beginning. There’s just nothing more quintessentially Jily to me than the process of them discovering more layers to the other person and slowly realizing that the other person is so much more than the antagonist they’d built up in their head. (And that they -gasp- actually…like them! Worse, they like them like them! A lot!) Gets me every time.

Other favorites include There Was Only One Bed, Hurt/Comfort, and Forced Proximity/Stuck/Trapped.

Q: What do you like most about the Jily fandom?

A: That we celebrate how much of a power couple Jily is. I’m going to quote @jilyss’ answer for this because it’s so true: we understand James has an arrogant streak but grew up, we celebrate Lily for the intelligent, strong, cool, bamf woman she is, and we appreciate how they’re true, complementary equals finding real, raw love with one another. (And also all the wonderful reader and fellow-writer friends I’ve made! 😘)

Q: Pick a favourite Marauders era character.

A: My man JP. From only the few hints we get about him in the books, we know he’s such a dynamic person, and I really love bringing him to life. Also, his growth/redemption story deserved more air-time, so I’m glad fanfic is here to fill that gap.

Q: Self-promo time! List the fics that you are most proud of writing.

Eternal Summer – My first born! Even though it’s far from being finished and needs a lot of work, I’m really proud of the world-building I’ve done thus far.

Vindicated – This was thrilling for me to write because it’s a total departure from what I’d previously written: second chances, canon-divergent AU, American settings, original characters, more adult relationship, etc. I have more planned for this universe and I’m really excited for it.

for the hope of it all – My latest completed fic. I challenged myself to write a softer, friends-to-lovers, mutually pining kind of summer fic, and this came together in a flood. But what makes me proud is that with this fic, I could really see how much my writing has evolved and improved from those early ES days.

Q: Fic rec time! Could you recommend a few of your favourite Jily fics?

Of Chrysalism by @maraudersftw – It’s only a short one-shot, but the way this fic haunts me!! Exquisite.

The Wedding Ring by @mppmaraudergirl – Lauren is the Nancy Meyers of Jily, and this fic is the epitome of that. A total comfort fic for me; I want it to be a movie that I can play in my living room over and over again until I know it by heart.

Eighteen Again by @scriibble-fics – If I didn’t know scriibble was getting her PhD in History, I’d think she was a screenwriter. The world-building in this fic is like no other—I’m in a constant state of chills when I read it. The emotional depth, the heartbreak, the romance, the political intrigue…it’s one of those fics that never leaves you.

Thank you @missgryffin for letting us ‘interview’ you and for sharing your fics with us! ❤️

#october author spotlight #author spotlight #thank you!!#its requested author month #next will be another random selection :)

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bylertruther · 2 years ago

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One would think Mike would be ecstatic on his first day in cali. He finally gets to see his gf and spend time with her. But no, Will was quiet and kinda moody and this has ruined the whole day. Ahahaha. When he said that during their argument, it made me laugh. how do you think Mike will react when he finds out El didn’t ask Will to do the painting?

he really said woooooow.... so you're really not gonna be obsessed with me? not only do you bring another girl's painting (which was our thing btw) to OUR reunion and have the NERVE to be hot now, but you also want to not laugh at my jokes or take my olive branch? how abt i step into traffic rn. wht if i slipped n sprained my ankle, will. then would u pay attention to me. i know that my girlfriend has been lying to me this entire time straight to my face, just got harassed by everyone in the roller rink and had that moment immortalized on tape, and ran off to cry somewhere alone, but you not paying attention to me is worse than all of that actually and tbh it's kind of unforgivable. LIKE MICHAEL PLEASE..... I KNOW U CALLED HIM ALL THE TIME AND NEVER GOT ANYTHING IN RETURN BUT STILL...... NOW IS NOT THE TIME AND I DON'T THINK WILL NOT TALKING TO U SHOULD BE UR PRIORITY IF U SUPPOSEDLY LOVE UR GIRLFRIEND MORE AND "CARE ABT [HER] SO MUCH"?! 🧐 but i digress.

honestly, i think it's going to snap his world in two. the painting on its own was not inherently romantic, but will's lies are what make it so. had he just given mike the painting and lifted his spirits, it would've been super touching but easily played off as "you're my best friend, of course i feel that way about you!" just like all of their other heart to hearts, like the crazy together one for example. but the fact that he used eleven's name is what makes it suspicious and it'll break his heart, because will lied to him. the first thing we're shown is that will can't and doesn't ever lie to mike even when it's to his advantage and even if the other party members are telling him to.

according to the script, mike knew that eleven didn't need him anymore because he saw it in her eyes. he feels this way and then will goes and fucks it all up by unknowingly giving him all these false ideas that don't apply to el at all. he isn't going to understand why will lied, especially about something that important, and then he's going to feel even worse because he was right!! and yet he listened to will anyway over both his own understanding and eleven's actions and words just because he trusts him that much.

mike tried calling will all the time despite will never calling him back. he tried to crack lighthearted jokes with will at rink-o-mania. he felt like he'd lost will because he was the one doing all the work and that's why he told him "maybe you should've reached out more, but why am i the bad guy?" (paraphrased). and still!! he doesn't let will take the blame when they make up!!! because he loves will that much!! he's the one that patches things up between them and he's the one that's been honest with will even when it was hard!! so for will to not feel like he can give him a painting despite mike literally having his room and his basement covered in his drawings as well as a binder is going to feel like such a punch to the gut in a "wow. i trust you with everything and you can't even trust me with something that used to be our thing? i thought we were best friends, a team, and yet you're lying to me?" like. the tragedy is that will thought he was doing something good for mike and eleven, and he doesn't realize that he just fucked it all up straight to hell. bc then mike is going to be like lol wow so no one really DOES need me cool cool cool love that for me love that my girlfriend AND my best friend both lied to me and felt like they couldn't be open and honest love that 🫠👍

like. it's just such a fascinating plot that can unravel any which way. he's going to be confused for sure. hurt. possibly angry, because we know he lashes out when he's overwhelmed. but he's going to be so hurt and confused. will is his best friend. his home. will never lies. so why after everything.... after everything that they've done, after everything that they've said... after how he treated eleven when she was lying.... why is he lying?

tl;dr homeboy is going to be so hurt and confused in a way he probably hasn't ever been before and it will be Glorious

#asks #i also think he'll have an expression on his face where it's like. embarrassment bc ofc she didn't commission it. when has el ever #expressed any interest in dnd? and why else was will so impassioned in the van? he's going to feel so [will voice] Stupid.#BUT I HOPE HE DOESN'T RIP UP THE PAINTING OMG LIKE WILL DID WITH THEIR PHOTO IN CASTLE BYERS...... I'LL KMS NO OFFENSE

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twink-between-worlds · 3 years ago

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honey whiskey; chapter five

hihi yeah so fuck the "new lu canon info"

you get some gays bein gay

its sorta a filler but also theres plot

relationships; four & leg, red & leg, vio & leg, ravio/legend, vio/shadow, four/shadow (technically)

ao3 link; x

Legend sighed gently, letting Four play with his feathers. Four made Legend a new wing binder, one that looks a lot softer than cold metal and leather, and she basically begged to at least feel his wings. …Legend kinda likes Red. She reminds him of Gulley. Curious, innocent, but capable of scaring the living shit out of you. It helps when he’s homesick. Not to mention—Four being a blacksmith reminds him of home too. Sometimes Legend wishes he’d went back to finish his apprenticeship. It would’ve been nice…to abandon the heroics and be a blacksmith instead. But..clearly that didn’t work for Four, so it wouldn’t work for him either. “Why didn’t you tell us?”Four spoke suddenly. “Us as in the chain.”She clarified, a little laugh escaping her mouth. “It’s just…not something I share.”Legend shrugged gently. “It’s not important.” “Oh,”Four mumbled softly. “Okay.”She nodded. “How did you make these so quickly?”Legend gestured to the new wing binds as Four finally began to gently place them onto Legend. “We split during watch last night,”Four admitted. “So we could get it done faster. We don’t understand why you hide them, but it makes you comfortable, so we decided we needed to make you these for today rather than making you wait.” “Oh. Thanks.”Legend mumbled quietly. “How did you split without anyone seeing? We’re not exactly heavy sleepers.” “Oh, we walked a little bit away to split.”Four grinned slightly, shrugging. “We just wanted this done for you.” “Oh.” Four hummed, gently fastening the clip on the binds before she paused, poking at the side of Legend’s neck. “What’s that?” “One, don’t poke my neck you weirdo—”Legend’s comment earned a giggle from the smithy. “Two…do you mean my tattoo?” “Yeah! The purple bunny...” “Oh..that.”Legend cracked a little smile. “It’s a matching tattoo I have with Ravio. He…has a pink bunny instead of a purple one.” “Ravio? That weird merchant?” Legend let out a laugh, nodding. “That weird merchant.” “Why do you have a matching tattoo with him?”Four crossed faer legs, eyes shifting from red to purple in an instant. Legend glanced up at the sky, smiling. “We’ve been married for a year.” Four let out a gasp and gently shoved Legend. “Shut up—no way!” Legend nodded and held out his hand. “Notice how I only have one silver ring?” “You’ve been wearing your wedding ring this whole time!”Four’s eyes lit up. “You bitch!” “Easy, Vi, no need to call me that because you finally weren’t observant enough.” Four huffed. “You’re an asshole. You’re worse than Shade.” “Shade?”Legend blinked, grinning when Four flushed. “Who’s Shade?” “I…don’t have to tell you.” “C’mon, you know you wanna~” “I—”Four let out a frustrated whine, burying faer face into faer hands. The two sat there in silence for a while, Four curled up in a ball while Legend leaned back on his hands. “Shadow is my partner.”Four finally confessed, sighing. “They’re a fucking asshole but I’d kill for te—actually, terrible idea to say that—I’d die for—nope, that’s bad too, uhh..”Four ignored the very confused look Legend had, trying to find better words. “...ah! I’d trade my life for theirs! That works.” “Tell me ‘bout ‘em.”Legend smiled, gently tugging Four over and beginning to play with faer hair. “They’re the worst.”Four stated bluntly, eyes fixated on the running water of the river that was in front of the pair. “But, like, it’s weirdly endearing? Dub as shit, skull is thicker than the hilt of a sword, but they make it cute somehow? Usually being dumb annoys me but stupidity looks good on them.” “Yeah?” “Yeah!”Four hummed as fae let Legend begin to braid faer hair. “And I don’t understand it—I don’t. But I think if Shadow ever became smarter, I’d be upset? I don’t want them to be smart. They’re perfect being dumb and I don’t know why I feel like that! It’s confusing and I don’t—I don’t get confused. They bring out the worst in me and yet I feel like the best version of myself with them. I don’t understand it. I don’t understand anything when it comes to Shadow.” “Love does that to you.”Legend shrugged softly. “Makes you an idiot. I

don’t…exactly…understand it, but if they make you happy, who cares? You’re you. You love them, and they love you. Fuck everyone else.” Four let out a hum, picking at faer skin. “Everyone else says I'm wrong. That someone like Shadow isn’t capable of love, and I’m just being used. I…If this was a couple years ago—I’d have agreed. But…” “But you’ve seen the real them?” “...yeah. Everyone—Everyone acts like Shade is pure evil, but I know they’re not. Shadow’s just…different, you know? They were never in control. They didn’t get to choose before. They never got a choice before. Shit, Legend, they didn’t even know they could choose before. They were so used to being summoned and forced to do other people’s bidding that they didn’t know they could choose how they wanted to live!”Four chewed on faer lip, frowning. “...and then I lost them for a good few years.” Legend’s hands stilled, and a frown replaced the smile he had. “I lost Shadow for…what, two, maybe three years? It…was the most miserable time of my life, lemme tell ya.”Four let out a sad little laugh. “Yeah…I spent so long trying to get them back. Lots of sleepless nights, lots of failed rituals…lots of failed everything. It sucked. Nothing seemed to work. I almost gave up.” “Why didn’t you?” A silence. It lasted about two minutes, before Four let out a heavy sigh. “I didn’t want to let go. I didn’t want to admit that Shadow was gone.” i guess that's the difference between us. we accepted marin was gone four didn’t accept shadow was, though Legend shook his head gently, continuing to braid Four’s hair. “How’d they come back?” “Honestly…I still don’t know.”Four laughed, smiling faintly. “I wish I did. I wish I knew how they came back, but..I never questioned it, you know? The love of my life who was supposed to be dead just…came back to me one day. I didn’t think to ask how or why—because I had them back and that was all that mattered…does that make me stupid?” “No.” Four isn’t stupid for it—Legend would be the same way if Marin suddenly showed up at his door. Or if his uncle was alive again. Legend thinks Four is a very lucky person. “From…my perspective, of someone who has lost…a lot of people. I would react the same way. Be happy now, ask questions later.” “...yeah.”Four smiled gently. “I’m…sorry to hear you’ve lost a lot, though.” “It’s fine,”Legend snorted. “Happened ages ago, I just brought it up to tell you you’re not an idiot for never questioning why or how your partner returned.”Legend whistled, tying a black ribbon into a bow to hold Four’s braid together. “You’re one lucky person, Four.” Four nodded, staying quiet until Legend finally backed up, tugging his tunics up. “We should head back.”Legend decided, helping Four up. The two walked back in relative silence, but with strange weights lifted off their shoulders. It didn’t need to be said that they’d keep each other's secrets, they always do.

#four writes #honey whiskey #royal wings au #fours linked universe tag #linked universe #lu #lu legend #linked universe legend #lu four #linked universe four #hylias kid #rainbow road #theyre gay your honor #legend and ravio are husbands

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poisonedapples · 3 years ago

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Patton’s Home for Traumatized Kids - Chapter 2

Craft Projects and Failed Bonding

Chapter Summary: Roman plots against Patton in a way he thinks is threatening.

Previous Chapter Story Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Panic, anxiety, implied past abuse, food mentions, and anxiety over being watched by cameras.

Word Count: 4,533

Taglist: @shade-romeo, @grayson-22

Notes: Thanks to cornybird on Ao3 for helping me beta this one!

“Virgil, wake up, it’s time for breakfast!”

Roman cracked open his eyes to stare at the door. His security bar was still under the doorknob, and it sounded like Patton walked away to knock on the next kid's door, so Roman slowly lifted himself out of Virgil’s bed once the coast was clear. He hadn’t been asleep for the last two hours, so there was no point to continue lying down and risk Patton trying to get into the room to wake him up. So Roman rubbed his tired eyes to undo the security bar and put it in his backpack.

Though, speaking of his backpack…he had no idea where to put it. It wasn’t safe in Virgil’s room, but Virgil was still sleeping in Roman’s bedroom. He could take it downstairs with him, but that’s a strange thing to do during breakfast, and he didn’t want that to be the conversation opener of the day. Especially if they asked him what was inside. They weren’t allowed to know that.

Eventually, Roman settled on hiding the backpack underneath Virgil’s bed. It wasn’t the best hiding spot, but it’d work until Roman could come back and take it. He opened the door and headed downstairs, praying that he wouldn’t be the first kid to arrive.

The prayer wasn’t enough, because Roman looked around the kitchen and only saw Patton at the stove. Patton looked over at him and seemed confused, trying to hide it behind a chipper smile. “Morning, kiddo! How’d you get dressed so fast? I only knocked on your door a second ago!”

Don’t let him find out you weren’t in your room. “Oh, these are my pajamas, I haven’t gotten dressed yet. And I was already awake, so I just came right downstairs.”

Patton looked Roman up and down, and Roman shivered. “…Do you not have real pajamas, kiddo?”

“No. I like sweatpants better.”

Patton didn’t seem pleased, but he didn’t question it further. Roman sat down at the table and anxiously drummed his fingers while he waited. Eventually, Logan came downstairs fully dressed with his hair brushed, and Virgil followed not long after. His hair was a mess, and his pajamas were twisted like he just fell out of bed and rolled down the stairs to make it in time.

Patton took one look at him and almost gasped. “Virgil, did you sleep last night? You look…a bit rough, to put it lightly.”

Virgil grunted. “I had to clean.”

Patton sighed. “Kiddo, save cleaning for the morning, okay?”

Virgil shrugged, groggily making his way to the coffee machine to try and steal some Patton already made for himself. “Virgil,” Patton chastised, “No coffee. You can go back to sleep after breakfast if you want, but you’re too young for coffee.”

Logan raised his hand. “May I have some?”

“No.”

“Darn.”

“What kinda drink do you want, Roman?” Patton asked. “And don’t say coffee.”

Coffee sounded really nice, actually, but there was no use arguing. “I’ll take milk, then.”

Patton finished emptying the contents of his pan onto some plates before grabbing three cups from the cupboard and filling them up. Two had milk while one had orange juice, and he passed them to each seat at the table. He then passed everybody their plates, with scrambled eggs and a bagel with cream cheese. Roman took his fork and tasted a bite of the eggs.

Holy fuck, Roman hadn’t had something that tasty since his grandma last cooked for him. The eggs were so soft and cheesy, and Roman could barely contain his excitement for it. He put as many eggs as he could fit onto his fork and stuffed it all in his mouth.

Patton laughed when he noticed Roman’s reaction. “Taste good, kiddo?”

Roman hummed, and Patton smiled. “Good! I learned how to make them from my roommate in college, and I haven’t looked back since!”

Roman hoped that roommate taught him how to make a lot more things then, because this was heavenly. He’d finished his entire plate of eggs so fast it was concerning, forgetting all ability to savor his food. Maybe Roman could find the recipe and steal it when Patton wasn’t looking.

Until then, Roman moved on to eating his bagel while everyone else wasn’t even close to finishing breakfast. He guessed that was a good thing. If he finished before everyone else, he could run to Virgil’s room and grab his backpack without anyone noticing. Roman chewed faster at the possibility.

Once again, the table went very silent as everyone ate and Roman tried to make a swift escape. Patton was the one to break the silence this time. “So, Roman,” he said, “How about you and I go to the store today?”

Roman froze. “…Why?”

“I’m sure there’s some stuff you need. School starts again in two days, so we need to get you some school supplies, and maybe we can get some stuff to decorate your room with too!”

“Wait, school starts in two days? I thought it started in two weeks!”

Patton seemed apologetic. “In this district, the first day is this Wednesday. Usually I’d let you stay at home a little longer to get comfortable before school, but I think it’d be easier for you to start the first day when you have the chance. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you home alone for another week.”

You should leave me here alone, Roman thought. He was a little disappointed he had to go to school sooner than usual, but school was also the best excuse to leave home early and come back late. If he could get involved again in theater, he could hide out and blame his late return times on rehearsals. So maybe it was a blessing in disguise.

Patton interrupted Roman’s internal scheming. “Do you know what kinda supplies you might need, kiddo?”

Roman twirled his cup in his hand and watched the milk spin. “Binders, pencils, folders, notebooks…I only have a backpack, really.”

“We definitely need to stop by the store then! And while we’re there, we can look at all the bedroom stuff too!”

Everything in Roman made him want to decline, to tell Patton to buy him whatever and he’ll make do with what he has. His heart started to pound again, his hand gripping hard on his cup and thinking about his escape options. Then it dawned on him.

They would be going to a store. A store, full of cashiers and moms with kids and plenty of parents who might also need school supplies. If there was anywhere he could be safe while alone with Patton, it was there. And maybe if he agreed, Patton would leave him alone for a while…

“…We can go.” Roman said. Patton’s grin widened and his eyes lit up.

“Great! So, just get ready once you finish breakfast, and we can head out! Logan, you’ll be in charge while Virgil takes a nap.”

Logan nodded, and Virgil almost fell asleep on top of his plate.

Eventually, everyone finished breakfast and put their dishes away, Virgil dragging himself back upstairs and falling into bed without even closing his door. Roman carefully entered his bedroom, darting his eyes between where he hid his backpack and where Virgil was lying.

“What.” Virgil snapped, mumbling it into his pillow. Roman stopped in his tracks.

“I only need to grab my bag, then I’ll leave you alone.”

“Fuggin’ take it.” Virgil snapped.

Roman grabbed his backpack and scurried out of there, closing the door behind him. It uneased Roman to try to sleep with the door open, so he assumed someone as secluded as Virgil might be the same. It was a little way to show his gratitude for last night.

Roman walked back to his own bedroom after grabbing his backpack. However, once Roman opened the door, he finally understood what Virgil meant by “cleaning”.

The mess Roman made last night was completely gone. The bed was made, the hangers were placed back in the closet, the lightbulb was back in the lamp and the nightstand had been set back up. It was almost like last night was a bad dream that never happened, Roman’s only evidence that it had being the fact that he woke up in Virgil’s room that morning. He looked around the room again to process the change, when he noticed a piece of paper on the nightstand.

Roman picked up the piece of paper and unraveled it.

There’s no cameras in here, I checked. I also fixed your mental breakdown for you. You owe me one.

Virgil

Roman looked around the room, holding the paper tight to his chest as he examined every corner. There wasn’t a single camera in here? Not one? No, no that wasn’t possible. The camera was around here somewhere. Roman knew it.

He looked around again, three times, looking under objects and in the closet, feeling the pit in his stomach grow when all his searches came back futile. He knew it was here somewhere, and he refused to let Patton win. Roman would find it.

He’d just…have to find some other place to sleep until then.

Roman shook his head as a way to erase his thoughts. He could worry about the camera later, but for now, he needed to please Patton’s attempt at getting to know him and get out of this cursed room. Roman still wrapped a blanket around himself as he got dressed, not quite able to shake his anxiety long enough to not take precautions. He changed from his pajamas to a red shirt and baggy jeans, and ran out to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

Camera or not, he’d have to find a way to pay Virgil back.

***

“Roman, what’s your favorite color?”

Roman snapped out of his distant stare to look at Patton. He was looking at a display of school binders, pausing for a moment to glance at Roman and wait for an answer. The stare was so much for Roman to process that he took a step back. “Uh…red.”

“Perfect! They’ve got lots of reds!” Patton grabbed a red binder before stopping himself with a thinking expression on his face. “Though, wait, let me check the supplies website…I don’t wanna get a wrong size, or only get one when you need multiple…”

Roman went back to staring at the floor under him. He shouldn’t have agreed to this. It seemed like a great idea at first, but now Roman was here holding himself tight and trying not to cry, feeling the exhaustion set in while his anxiety made him restless. He wanted to go home and sleep, but there was nowhere to sleep. Nowhere to hide.

He’d have to search the house for hiding spots later.

“So,” Patton eventually said, “It doesn’t say exactly, so I’ll just grab a zipper binder and one two inch just in case. If you need more, I can always stop by again and buy some. What’s your second favorite color?”

Roman swallowed to fight back the tears. “Purple.”

Patton smiled. “That’s Virgil’s favorite color! So, one red zipper binder and a purple two inch. So let’s look at the pencil cases now!” Patton caught a glimpse of Roman’s pale face and his smile dropped. “…Are you okay, kiddo?”

Roman nodded. He didn’t trust himself to talk, but it seemed like Patton didn’t trust his answer. He took a step toward Roman, and Roman took two steps back. Patton frowned. “Are you sure?”

Roman nodded again. Patton ran a hand through his hair and looked around the store. Please, let’s just get this over with already.

Patton’s head stopped as his eye caught sight of a specific aisle, and he smiled in Roman’s direction. “Say, kiddo, how about you go check out the fish? I’ll be over here getting the boring stuff if you need me!”

Roman glanced at Patton’s eyes. They were soft and forgiving, but all Roman could feel when looking at them was fear. He took this as his moment, spinning around on his heel and almost sprinting toward the fish aisle. Anywhere was better than being near Patton.

Roman looked at the walls of fish tanks with fish of all kinds of colors, watching them swim around as the filter’s bubbles reached the roof. There were some that were swimming around each other, and others that stopped in place for long periods of time. Roman held himself and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

It was more peaceful away from Patton, at least. Roman felt a little less sick and his hands weren’t shaking as badly, focusing on the fish to calm himself down. It wasn’t a perfect solution, but it worked. That’s all Roman could really ask for.

He watched the fish swim around and read their species facts for a while, until he couldn’t feel tears in his eyes anymore and the nausea was tamed. Roman walked through the aisle to look at the fish tank decorations and other pet toys. He picked up a chew toy for a dog and squeaked it, awkwardly messing with the toys and trying to keep Patton in his peripheral vision. It felt odd to be standing around in a pet aisle with no plans of buying anything.

Well, Roman thought, Patton never told me I had to stay in this aisle. It was only a suggestion. I could move on to another part of the store.

Roman looked at where Patton was one more time so he could remember his spot. It seemed like he was checking the supply list on his phone and thinking hard about colored pencils, and Roman hoped he would be occupied with that for a while more. He walked out of the aisle and looked above him for ideas on where he should go next.

Bathroom, no. The bakery would be wonderful if I could buy a donut myself. Clothes, baby items, plants…wait! Roman’s eyes lit up as he read another one of the signs. Hardware!

Roman always loved searching through hardware. He was a craft person at heart, and the aisles always gave him ideas for new things to try and make. Besides, Patton told him they were going to look for decorations for his room, maybe he could get inspiration there!

Roman entered the hardware aisle and began to look around. Because this wasn’t a hardware store there wasn’t much, mostly small items like door hinges and hook sets. There was also a doorknob you could only open with a code that Roman wanted, but there was no way Patton would let him install that. But maybe he could find something else to make his room safer.

Roman passed some other items, including some lightbulbs and a security camera displaying the screen that made Roman shiver when he passed by, but eventually Roman saw it. Ideas swarmed in his head and a big grin bloomed onto his face. It was perfect!

“There you are, kiddo!” Roman jumped at the sound of Patton approaching, looking up to see him with a basket full of school supplies. Patton smiled to hide the worry in his eyes. “I noticed you left the other aisle and I didn’t know where to find you.”

Roman gripped harder onto the box he was holding. “Sorry, I got bored…but I found something I want for my room!”

“You did? What is it, kiddo?”

Roman held up the box to Patton. Patton raised an eyebrow at him. “…Curtain rods?”

“Yes! Sounds strange, I know, but I was thinking that I could make my own canopy bed with them! We could get some curtains and I could hang them up around the bed, and I could decorate the curtains to look beautiful! Please?”

Patton rubbed at the back of his neck. “I don’t know, kiddo…it sounds like a cool project! But you’d have to install them into the roof, and I’m not very good with a drill!”

“I can do it!” Roman begged, “I’ve installed lots of home stuff before, and I’m really good with tools! And if I mess up I promise I’ll fix any holes, or I’ll do some babysitting jobs to pay back anything that’s broken, just…please? Can I try?”

Patton seemed conflicted. He saw the desperate look in Roman’s eyes and sighed. “…You can try, kiddo. Just…don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work, okay?”

“I won’t be! Promise!” Roman grabbed three boxes of the largest curtain rods they had and tried to hold them under his arms. “Now, I just need some red curtains, and maybe some glittery star stickers, or some other craft supplies! And a hot glue gun, you can make beautiful raindrop decorations out of hot glue!”

Patton seemed like his head was spinning. “I’ll go get an actual cart for this, kiddo.”

And then, the hunt for supplies was on. Patton got a cart for Roman to pile the curtain rods on the bottom, failing to keep up with him as he ran from aisle to aisle searching for supplies for his ideas. All the curtains were too transparent for Roman’s liking, so he instead settled for a pack of red, flat sheets meant for a queen bed and a small pack of sewing supplies. Patton mentioned he had a glue gun at home, so Roman skipped that section of the crafts aisle and instead focused on some birthday decorations with crowns and stars as well as some stickers. The more Roman’s vision came into action, the more excited and bouncy he got.

With the opaque curtains, Roman thought, it doesn’t matter if he has a camera in my room or not. He won’t be able to see me sleep. And how cute, he won’t realize his mistake in letting me do this until it’s too late.

Roman was jumping on his heels at the thought. I’m a genius.

The checkout was long and the car ride was full of anticipation, but once Patton pulled into the driveway of the house, Roman opened the trunk and ran inside with all his items in tow. He didn’t even say hello as he ran past Virgil and Logan on the couch to head upstairs.

“Kiddo, do you want to organize supplies too?” Patton yelled once he entered the house.

“I will later!” Roman answered. He had work to do.

The first step was an experiment of patience. Roman took out all the flat sheets and folded them at the top, sewing the fold with a needle and red thread to make its own custom loop for the curtain rod. It was annoying and tedious, but necessary. Also a test on Roman’s skill of how fast he could hand sew.

He was almost done with the last sheet when a knock came to his door. “Who is it?” Roman asked.

“It’s lunch time, kiddo,” Patton answered, “I called you down a while ago. How about you take a break for some food?”

No. There was no time for breaks. Roman needed this to be done by tonight so he could finally get some sleep. “In a minute.”

“Roman, it’s been a while already. A little break won’t hurt.”

“I will in a minute!” It was a lie, but Roman had the door locked, so there was nothing Patton could do about it. Roman finished his final seam, so now it was onto installing the rods.

Roman was measuring where to put the hooks on the roof when another knock came to the door. Roman groaned like a spoiled brat. “I’m coming!”

“Roman, can you open the door?”

Roman froze. He just yelled at Patton, pushed his luck, now he had to open the door. Roman dropped the screw he was holding as his hands shaked. Shit, shit! “…Why?”

“I’ve got your lunch for you.”

Roman felt his throat close, but ignoring Patton would only make the situation worse. Roman dropped his hook and screws to open the door.

Patton was on the other side, smiling softly with a burrito on a plate and a glass of juice in his hands. “I had to reheat it, but maybe you can eat while you’re working.”

Roman dug his nails into his palm before taking the plate. “Thank you.”

“Can I come in?”

No. No, you can’t. You never can, ever. “…Sure.”

Roman scurried away from Patton to sit on his bed, drinking some of the juice and looking at what’s inside the burrito. Black beans, lettuce, tomatoes, cheese, sour cream, onions, and green peppers. Roman took a bite and tried to calm himself by focusing on the taste.

“You like it?”

Roman nodded. “Never had this before.”

“It’s a black bean burrito. I found the recipe a few years ago, and I make them pretty often. Especially for growing kiddos.” Patton sat on the floor next to the mess Roman had laid out. “What are you doing now for your canopy bed?”

“I was gonna screw in the curtain hooks to the roof. I’ve just been sewing the sheets for now, which is the hardest part. I might have to sew them again though, since the sheets are so big I might have to cut them. Especially since I want to do two curtains on each end to make it look pretty.”

“Sounds cool! Do you need any help?”

Roman seemed to be thinking. Maybe if I satisfy him, he won’t be angry. “Do you know how to sew?”

“I know how to repair tears. That’s it.”

Roman took another bite of his burrito and jumped off the bed, picking up one of the sheets to examine the size. He jumped on his bed and held it up to the roof, seeing how far it would stretch. The sheet was much longer than his bed, so it would be perfect. “Take the sheets, measure them, and cut them in half right down the middle. Then I can show you how to do a catch stitch to hem the seam. That will save me some time.”

“You’re very good at hand stuff!” Patton complimented. A shiver went up Roman’s spine.

“…Yes.”

From then on, the environment was very tense. The only sound between either of them was the drill going through the roof and the sound of scissors cutting. When Patton finished cutting, Roman showed him how to hem the seam, but it was quiet again after that. Roman kept his distance and made sure his front was always facing Patton just in case.

“I hope you don’t mind if this is a very messy sewing job, kiddo.” Patton joked.

Roman shrugged. “You won’t be able to see it anyway, so it doesn’t matter.”

“Are you gonna decorate the sheets once you’ve hung them up?”

“Yes, it’s easier that way. And I can plan it out.”

“Any reason why you chose crowns and stars?”

Roman paused long enough to drill another hook into the roof before setting the drill down to grab another hook. “I like crowns. And stars.”

“Logan loves stars.” Patton really hated silence, apparently. “I don’t know if the other kiddos showed you their rooms, but Logan’s is covered in space stuff. It was really fun to do, actually! Though, I made Logan paint the stars onto his own wall because he kept talking about how it should be accurate constellations, and I don’t know anything about stuff like that.”

“I’ve only seen Virgil’s room.”

“Oh, well, if Logan ever invites you in, know that he did lots of work for his constellation wall!”

Roman hummed and drilled the last hook into the roof. He took a curtain rod and placed it on the two hooks near the foot of his bed. “How many of the sheets have you finished?”

“Oh, I’m still on the first one. I’m learning though!”

Roman jumped off the bed to sit on the floor next to Patton, grabbing his own needle and thread to begin hemming the seam. Once he started sewing, Patton watched him with wide eyes. “You’re doing that very fast, kiddo!”

Roman shrugged. “I’ve done it a lot.”

“What do you usually sew for?”

“Clothes. To fix rips, mostly. My mom also taught me when I was younger.”

Patton seemed taken aback by his explanation. “Did…did you enjoy that time with your mom?”

“I enjoyed all my time with her.” Roman paused. “Well. Most times.”

Patton swallowed. “Most times?”

“Her and I were really close, if that’s what you're asking.” Roman’s hands sped up as he sewed. “She would take me to movies and theaters, and she taught me how to bake as good as her.”

Patton’s voice grew serious. “Well…I’m sorry for your loss, kiddo.”

“She’s not dead.”

“I’m still sorry you lost her.” Patton shook his head and focused more intently on his sewing. “But you said you can bake?”

Roman nodded. “I bake a lot, especially cake. I know how to make red velvet cake from scratch and it is lovely.”

“We should make some tomorrow, then!”

Roman tensed. “Maybe.”

Roman finished off the hem of his side and moved to cut another sheet, hemming both of their sides once he did so. The rest of the time was quiet, with Roman purposely refusing to spark conversation and Patton processing the little information Roman gave him. By the time Patton finished one end and half of another, Roman had finished all the rest and took Patton’s to quickly finish off. Roman laid them all across the floor and opened the packs of crafts he got.

“Well, kiddo, I gotta see about making dinner now.” Patton eventually said, “Tell me how the end project turns out, ‘kay?”

Roman nodded. Finally, he’s leaving. “Close the door when you leave.”

Patton smiled and closed the door on his way out. Roman focused entirely on decorating his new curtains, placing glittery stars and plastic crowns and using the hot glue gun to make crystals draping down the curtains. He repeated a similar pattern for each one, eventually hanging two on each side of the bed so they could open and close down the middle. Once the final project was finished, and the floor of his room was scattered in materials, Roman smiled wide in awe.

“Yes! I did it! I did it!” Roman jumped up and down from excitement, flopping onto his bed and closing the curtains from every side. The curtains were a bit too long and dragged too much along the floor, but he could fix that another day. For now, he’d been at it for hours, and his bed was finally a safe space.

Roman buried his face into his pillow, feeling himself relax as the exhaustion of a whole day with no sleep and debilitating anxiety finally caught up to him. He groggily checked for any cameras on the roof, but that was the only place he had to check for a camera that could see him. He was safe.

Roman crawled under the comforter and closed his eyes. It wasn’t more than five minutes of lying there before he fell asleep, curling into himself and relaxing. Finally, he slept peacefully.

Finally.

#ts roman #ts virgil #ts patton #ts logan #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #thomas sanders #sanders sides #panic #implied past abuse #past abuse #food mention #royality #prinxiety #familial royality #familial prinxiety

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weebsinstash · 3 years ago

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Oh wow, your recent batman writing was amazing! I love how you wrote Batman, and how his obsession with control leaked into making countless notes and documents on the reader. The best and most terrifying part was definitely the revelation that not only was reader pregnant, but that Batman had known this entire time, and could've even predicted it beforehand from his knowledge of her cycles. And not only that, but he already knew the gender of the child and had decided on a name, during this time reader didn't even have an inkling whatsoever that they were pregnant!

Amazing, marvelous, wonderfully invasive you did great with this I love you

Ahhh, I'm glad you like it! I've actually been watching a ton of justice league stuff recently, and I used to get super stoned and watch Brave and the Bold and even made a lil weed themed superhero oc bc I liked the idea of batman trying to be all stoic and serious and then here's his newest sidekick getting blasted and cracking jokes. Also I've been meaning to get back into Young Justice since I see they have a new season out! I used to have kind of a thing for Kaldur 👉👈

I actually wouldn't rule out me writing more DC fics in the future, though no promises for who, and I definitely have some older works that need to be completed 😅

But on to the fic, yeah, I think Batman would be an absolutely terrifying yandere to deal with. He's got ptsd so he's more touchy when it comes to his loved ones potentially coming into harm, he's "the world's greatest detective" notorious for his intelligence, like literally they call him one of the three smartest people in the DCU besides Lex Luthor and Mr Terrific, like terrifyingly intelligent, he's got basically unlimited resources because he's a billionaire with his own personal scientists and laboratories, like... God. He sets his sights on you and it's all over man. The Wayne Manor having blast shutters isn't even a thing I just threw into the fic, that's an actual canonical thing

I must admit, I think he'd be WAY too careful to leave That Binder out for the Reader to find, but that was just plot convenience on my part. He would leave any trace of his obsession under tight lock and key. Alfred would be able to tell since Bruce is like a son to him and he knows him better than anyone else and quite frankly Pennyworth doesn't intervene at all and even helps take care of you, kidnapping and all.

I also like to think that Damien grows up to be very very protective of his mom and is still kind of a little prick to his father because he probably plays favorites. Honestly, Bruce probably eventually starts training him, not just in things like fighting, but how to take care of you, protect you, and report any suspicious behavior back to his father 😰

#yandere stuff #sinprompts

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simpcxty · 4 years ago

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You said you needed ideas so hear me out-

Sfw- trans! Reader (ftm) with Tsukishima who gives tough love and hates it when you have really bad dysphoria days. Snaps at anyone who misgenders you.

NSFW- oikawa would be such a tease when you get needy and shit. Like this fucker would tease you after you beg because he told you to beg.

Thank you, thank you, thank you!! You have given me brain fuel, and for that. I love you 🧡

I have never written something in one day. Thank you, you have truly inspired me 😩👏

TW for Tsukishima: deadnaming and misgendering, deadname is your choice, but Y/n will be for your new name and Y/d/n for your dead name because no dads are mentioned here. Gets a little angsty but they figure it out.

I didn’t want to be disrespectful to anyone and choose a name that might be someone’s new name or dead name.

Also I’m sorry if my writing isn’t accurate for a ftm character. I did my best and I really hope you like it!

I did my best with the tough love but it does get a bit fluffy tbh.

Kei Tsukishima

Kei always tries.

He really does. You guys had started dating before you came out, and the switch from your dead name to Y/n had him caught off guard.

So did the sudden shift of pronouns.

But he didn’t leave, so he was trying to do his best all right?

But he’s already bad with emotions, these are a different kind that he doesn’t even know how to approach.

So he gives it the same energy he does with everything else.

Today though.

Something was very odd about today.

His normal words had you flashing him your best fake smile and turning away from him.

And trust me, he could tell the difference.

But for now, he chose not to comment.

Will it be one of those days today?

You didn’t like to talk about your Dysphoria but Kei always picked up on it.

Or at least he tried to.

He even had a custom made chest binder coming in the mail that should be here any day now.

But when you leave the room after Kei’s not incorrect but painfully blunt statement went straight to your very soul.

He replays the conversation in his head to see where he messed up.

He found himself doing that a lot.

‘I get that you’re trying Kei. It just sucks that other people don’t even bother.’

‘I don’t really think it’s that big of a deal. They’re stupid people who don’t even matter at least I’m trying. Imagine if I wasn’t?’

It made you question everything.

Did he even want to be trying?

Why are you being a nuisance?

Why are you putting him through this. He’s got much more important things to be focusing on as a senior in college this year.

You’re finally being true to yourself and putting him through unnecessary stress aren’t you? What is wrong with you?

All of these thoughts and more swarmed your head as you leaned against the bathroom counter trying to catch your breathing.

Stop it. Stop being such a big crybaby.

Kei Tsukishima doesn’t need a crybaby.

Why does it have to hurt so damn bad to just be a girl? He’d like you so much more as a girl.

“Y/n..?” His voice sounds so tired.

Damn it Y/n. Get your fucking shit together.

“Please talk to me.. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come out like that babe.. I just-“ his eyes almost seem dull when you open the door, only to brighten when you open the door and he gets a good view of you.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say it like that, I just- I don’t, I don’t know how to handle this sometimes, but I don’t want you to think I don’t care. It’s just new, and I can get adjusted-“ he feels his heart clench a bit when your next words come out.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry I couldn’t just stay who I was, I’m sorry I couldn’t just be a girl for-“ and he’s grabbing your face with his palms as tears start to well up in his eyes.

“Shut up. Shut up, because I love you however I can have you. I love you. I just want you, please don’t get confused and think I have a preference because I just want you Y/n. I love you, no matter who you are. Please don’t forget that.” The tears streaming down your face slow as he kisses your head and wraps his arms around you.

“Im sorry Kei.” He kisses your head again.

“Shh, stop it. Stop apologizing. You have nothing to apologize for babe, we do need to finish getting ready for class though okay?” You nod and he smiles.

———

When you get to school, he can almost feel the anxiety wafting from you.

But he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around you and pull you along with him.

“You have me, okay? I’m just as much yours as you are mine babe.” You nod and expect him to pull him arm away, and he does, only to entangle his hand in yours.

“Tsukishima!” No- because he recognizes that annoyingly high pitched voice, and he’s not in the mood for it. Nor will you be.

So he picks up speed. Keeping his hand tight around yours and pulling you in front of him, only to wrap his arms around you slightly and speed up even more.

“Kei what are you doing?” You think he’s going to ignore you until he speaks up finally.

“Don’t want to deal with her.”

“Y/d/n can you-“ he stops right in his tracks and turns around to acknowledge the blonde.

“Alisa is it? See how easy was that? I wasn’t even sure. You know for a fact that isn’t the proper name that he goes by. So correct yourself, or don’t talk to my boyfriend or me. Got it?” She goes to speak again but Tsukishima already has you two walking again and his ears are flushed.

“Tsuki-?” You’re blushing and he tightens his grip on your waist.

“It wasn’t right, I’ll correct anyone who gets it wrong. Even myself.” You smiled and he manages to crack a small one.

Kei Tsukishima always tries.

———————————————————————

NSFW CONTENT AHEAD

I didn’t know if you still wanted a ftm character so this one is just written female.

READ RESPONSIBLY PLEASE

Characters aged up 18+

“Beg.” You scoffed.

“I don’t beg.” Your hips are rising as he pressed his thumb harder against your clit and you whimper.

“I won’t do anything more until you beg.” You rolled your eyes and attempt to sit up. Only for him to wrap a hand around your throat and push you back down.

“Toru, I don’t beg-“ he tightens his grip around your throat and you whine.

“I said, beg.” The way he demands it in your ear has your thighs attempting to clam shut.

Key word, attempting.

“Are you gonna listen to a single thing I say princess? Or am I gonna have to leave you here like this?” You looked up at him desperately and his grip around your neck loosens a bit.

“Please, please just fuck me already. I need it Toru, it’s been too long please just do it already-“ you’re cut off with whines as his tip prods at your entrance, but the pressure on your clit is still hard and you know he’s waiting for more.

“Please! Please fuck me! I need you Toru please!” He chuckles and pushes in agonizingly slowly.

“Like you said babe, it’s been too long. I need to go easy on your pretty pussy.” You whine at that.

“Don’t want you to go easy- just fuck me rough please!” Tears of frustration pool in your eyes and he laughs.

“Awe, don’t cry princess, I’ll give you what you want. You begged so nicely.” The sudden snap of his hips has you unable to respond to his taunt.

Yeah so what you begged. You’re getting dicked down by this god of a man. I’d say that’s a win.

His hands were both on your hips now as he thrusted into as if his life depended on it.

“Missed you so much.” He whines and a particularly hard thrust has you reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck.

The new position has you sliding down on his dick so much easier, and the way he can just lift you up and down quickly has him whining more.

“M’gonna cum. Off.” He whimpers as you tighten and start to lift yourself off and grabs your hips. He’s never cum so fast but you don’t mind.

“T-Toru-!” He gasps as you tighten more and his hips thrust up desperately.

“Nevermind, I wanna cum inside. Please, please let me cum inside. You feel so good, just wanna cum inside your warm pussy hnngh~ please!” His hips are starting to falter and you know he’s getting closer as his hands tighten around your waist, lifting you up and down to meet with his sloppy thrusts.

“Please!” He’s begging and you almost laugh.

“Oh god please, just wanna cream inside you please!” He has to stop thrusting and you’d almost think he did cum.

But you knew better. His nails digging into your hips and his ragged breathing against your neck has you melting.

“Did you even really have to ask? Just cum babe.” Your words are so nonchalant that he’s whining and picking up his thrusts again.

“fuckfuckfuckohfuckyes” his voice is messy and it’s almost gibberish.

But as you tighten around him and his hips falter he’s moaning and whimpering into your chest and neck.

“So tight, ngHh shit~” he moans whorishly as you cum around him and cum spurts out of him and into you.

“You fuck me so good. So so good Y/n.” His hips are still sputtering and you’re wondering just how long it’s been since he’s actually gotten off.

“Thank you, Thank you so fucking much baby.” His cum is already spilling out of you and he’s still finishing.

This’ll be a fun cleanup.

He finally lays you down on the bed and lays his head in between the valley on your chest as he catches his breath.

“You begged.” He wraps his arms around you and pulls you closer, making you whimper while he stays inside of you.

“Do I need to remind you how you sounded when you wanted to cum Toru?” His head shoots up at that and his cheeks flush.

“But you’re so warm. So tight and comfy. I didn’t and still don’t want to leave.” He whines and wiggles his hips upward and you whimper. You can’t help but clench as he thrusts up again and whines again.

He keeps up the occasional thrusts. Neither of you have the energy for a second round. That much is obvious. But the bliss is overwhelming.

“Don’t want to pull out yet. Please don’t make me.” He whines and you just clench around him to tease.

“Fuck. Don’t do that. M’still hard and I’m ninety percent sure if you keep doing that I’m gonna stuff your already full pussy again.” You hummed and he wraps his arms around you.

“Empty threats. We’re both too tired, you know we’ll just go again when we wake up.”

“I’m gonna get you pregnant.” He says it confidently, you couldn’t even laugh at the statement. Because he probably and most definitely will.

“I mean if that’s what you want, I wouldn’t mind having a little Oikawa running around.” Almost all his stamina is back in that moment.

Congratulations you have unlocked

Breeding King with Toru Oikawa 🔓

Neither of you ended up sleeping that night.

#oikawa smut #tsukishima fluff #ftm reader #haikyuu!! smut #slight angst #body dysphoria #tsukishima angst #god theyre so pretty

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ificanthaveu · 4 years ago

Text

Don’t Tell The RA || Shawn Mendes

Description: RA!Shawn asks for your help with studying for your final exam, but an RA should always expect the unexpected.

A/N: Happy 1st day of my semi-not-really-ficmas! I’m positive I’ve used every winter/Christmas themed fic idea, but I scrounged together a few so here’s the first of the installment. These’ll probably all be pretty short (except for 1 probably bc i have a lot of ideas for it). Also.....if this gif doesn’t look like RA!Shawn trying to get his freshmen boys to stfu so they can start and end the hall meeting ASAP.

Word Count: 2.4k

You were the first person out of the room when your History professor dismissed you, meeting your awaiting roommate Micah across the hall. The two of you started walking back to your dorm without much of a word until she launched into how difficult her calculus exam is going to be.

“At least it’s related to your major. I’m about to fail a gen-ed,” you said as you rolled your eyes. “I’ve never liked History, and this is a literal nightmare.”

“Hey, only one more test, and we’re done,” she reminded you.

Before you could respond to her, you heard your name being yelled from behind you. The both of you stopped and turned around to see Shawn maneuvering his way in and out of people, his tall stature poking out from the rest as you smiled at him.

“Have you started studying for the final yet?” He asked as he fell into step with you and Micah, making your way out of the building.

You practically snorted with a head shake before you said, “Absolutely not. I’ve been so caught up in my biology classes that I’ve barely started looking at this. It’s not looking good for me.”

“We get it. You’re pre-med,” Micah mumbled before you elbowed her.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ve cracked open the textbook since the first week,” he said.

“Oh, you opened yours? Mine’s still in the plastic wrap,” you said as proud as you could.

That earned a laugh from Shawn as he shook his head at you.

“You may be worse off than I am,” he said.

He paused for a moment, looking between you and where he had to turn to go to the freshman dorms, opposite campus from the junior ones.

“Would you wanna study tonight?” He asked.

You heard Micah choke on her breath as you prayed he didn’t hear it.

“Yeah, I definitely need it,” you replied.

“Can’t do it in our room,” Micah interjected quickly. “Josie is coming over for calc.”

“We can study at mine,” he said. “If that’s ok with you of course. We just might get interrupted by check-out questions.”

“Sounds just fine with me. I could never do what you do,” you said, looking up at him as he shrugged and looked away, the blush almost evident on his cheeks.

“Well, my room and board is paid for, so I’ll deal with throwing up freshmen in the bathroom at 2 am,” he said. “Does 7 work?”

“Sounds perfect,” you said as you turned to go towards your dorm. “See you then.”

Micah followed behind you as you began to cross campus, waiting until you were clearly out of earshot of Shawn.

“You really had to say we couldn’t do it in our dorm?” You asked as you gripped onto her wrist and she laughed. “Now I have to be extra alone with him.”

“That’s the point,” she said flatly. “Don’t act like you haven’t been staring at him all semester. That man is the total package.”

“And we’re studying together, nothing else,” you quickly pointed out.

“Well it may start that way but-“ you cut her off before she could finish.

“Don’t say something that won’t come true,” you said as you swiped into the building and walked up the stairs to your dorm.

“You wish it will though,” she said in a sing-song voice as you unlocked your door and pushed her in.

“So what are you wearing?” She asked as she whipped open your closet.

“I’m not changing,” you said.

Micah turned around and looked up and down at your sweatpants and sweatshirt with a look of disgust.

“Can you at least put leggings on and a clean sweatshirt? Maybe put your hair in a pony-tail instead of that bun that looks like it was slept in - scratch that - a bun that was slept in,” she said as she threw you a pair of black leggings and a school crewneck.

“This is ridiculous,” you mumbled as you changed.

“You’ll thank me later,” she called after you.

It had started snowing by the time 6:45 came around, and you began your trip across campus. You were regretting not wearing a jacket as you shivered and crossed your arms tightly around your chest.

The person at the front desk smiled at you as you made your way up to Shawn’s dorm, scanning the rooms for the one that said “Residential Assistant” on the front.

You knocked twice once you found it, rocking back and forth on your feet and trying to shake the cold. You glanced around at the winter-themed decorations around the hall before Shawn swung the door open.

“Hey,” he said brightly with that big smile that made you weak. “You look freezing.”

“I am,” you said as he welcomed you in. “Big mistake not wearing a coat.”

You scanned over his room quickly as he shut the door behind the two of you. He had white Christmas lights strung along his window, making for a beautiful reflection mixed with the snow. His overhead light was off, but the lamp beside his futon was on. It was surprisingly clean, but you attributed that to him never knowing when someone was going to need to talk to him.

Two mugs were situated on his desk in the corner of the room. He crossed the room and grabbed one and handed it to you.

“It’s mint tea,” he said. “Helps with studying.”

“Ah, of course,” you said, taking the mug and sitting on his, surprisingly comfortable, futon.

“And a blanket,” he said as he pulled it from the back of the couch. “Since you look like you might have hypothermia.”

“Thank you,” you said softly as you wrapped it tightly around your shoulders.

You pulled out your book and binder, flipping to the study guide that was handed out in class.

“Ok, where do you want to start?” You asked as Shawn pulled his slightly crumpled study guide from where it was tucked in his book.

“Well, I know nothing,” he said as he scanned over the paper. “Actually, I know one.”

“Which one?”

“The one he told us the answer for today.”

“That does not count.”

The two of you determined an order to study from as you kept his open textbook balancing on both of your knees, occasionally having to lean closer to the other to take a look at a passage.

Shawn skimmed the page, pointing at a passage and trying to explain it to you as you looked at him. You couldn’t hear a word he said as you watched how into the topic he got, using his hands to try to express his point. You sent the butterflies to the bottom of your stomach by taking a giant sip of the tea and moving onto the next question.

He asked you the next one, taking the textbook from you as you leaned an arm on the back of the futon. You glanced between him and the mini Christmas tree in the corner as you tried to explain it as best you can without the book as a crutch.

You looked back at him, his head cocked to the side and an interested look on his face. A few curls fell onto his forehead as he studied you. You tried to keep talking as his gaze was unwavering.

“Sounds right to me,” he said, his face dangerously close to yours as he also leaned his arm on the back.

“I honestly wouldn’t know,” you whispered. “Were you even looking at the book to make sure I was right?” You teased.

“I had something else I had to look at,” he said at the same volume.

You felt him lean in as you did the same. You could feel his breath fan over your lips as your hand rested on his knee.

Three solid knocks sent you flying away from each other.

Shawn cursed under his break as he stood up and swung the door open quickly.

“What?” He said to the kid in front of him, who was significantly shorter than Shawn.

“Kevin knocked over the-“ he paused as he saw you watching from across the room. “Oh, sorry, Shawn, I didn’t realize you had a girl over.”

You choked on your sip of tea as Shawn shoved the kid out the door and slammed the door behind him.

You pulled yourself together as you could hear Shawn’s muffled voice through the paper-thin walls.

“Why the fuck would you say that with her right there?” He said.

“I didn’t know! I would’ve gotten the RA on duty if I knew you were on a date,” the kid yelled back.

You could hear Shawn huff and could imagine him tugging at his hair.

“It’s nothing, Cade. It’s literally nothing at all,” Shawn said quickly. Your stomach dropped.

“It didn’t look like nothing,” the kid - Cade - teased back.

“Just tell me what’s going on, so I can study, which is the only thing we were doing,” he trailed off as you could hear the two of them walking down the hall.

You tried not to let yourself get too disappointed as you half packed up some of your stuff, not wanting to overstay your welcome if he didn’t see anything here. You felt yourself begin to overthink, wondering what would’ve happened if he kissed you. If he just wanted something quick before break, a finale to your semester together in class.

You waited patiently, your chin resting on your knees as you tried to look at the study guide with no luck.

The door swung open once again as Shawn came back. He shut the door behind him, running his hands through his hair as he looked over at you, noticing nothing but your study guide sitting out. He felt his stomach drop but didn’t say anything.

“Ok, where were we?” He said as he sat down again, dangerously close as his thigh grazed across yours.

Your breath hitched as he looked over at the study guide in your lap, looking at your one newly highlighted point.

You looked up at him as he asked you a question on the point. It was obvious he was looking at your lips.

You tried to answer the question and steady your shaky voice, but he leaned closer. Before his lips had the chance to press against yours, you rested your hand against his chest.

“Shawn…” you trailed off. “I can’t.”

“I’m so sorry,” he quickly said. “I didn’t - I thought - I’m sorry, I thought there was…” he trailed off as he tried to motion between the two of you as he leaned back.

“I just,” you paused as you let out a breath. “I really don’t want to be a one-night thing before you go back home.”

“Why would you think that?” He asked, an upset look clearly on his face.

“It’s nothing. It’s literally nothing at all,” you quoted him as you played with the edge of the study guide.

He looked at you confused as you looked down at the page, trying to distract yourself.

“Why would you say that? I don’t think this is just nothing,” he said.

“Shawn, these walls are paper-thin,” you snapped as you looked up at him. “I heard you telling the kid that this was nothing, and I don’t want nothing. So I’m stopping it here.”

He rubbed his forehead softly as you tucked your study guide into your binder, opening your backpack to put it away.

“I’m not going to tell one of my residents that he just interrupted something,” Shawn said quickly. “They’re my residents. I’m not about to tell them about my love life. I didn’t know you’d hear that. I swear I don’t think this is just nothing. I just don’t want them to know that stuff about me. There’s no reason to. I’m so sorry if it came off as any other way.”

You watched him continue to get flustered as he stayed relatively close to you, his hand almost hitting your shoulder as he spoke.

“I’ve been crazy about you since the beginning of the semester. I don’t just want to kiss you and forget,” he explained, leaning close to you again.

“Really?” You asked softly.

He smiled back at you, his hand almost resting against your shoulder as he draped it against the back of the futon.

“Really,” he replied.

This time when he leaned in, you let him kiss you. His hand enveloped the side of your face as you rested your hands gently on his chest. He tugged on your hip, and you followed his lead as you climbed onto his lap, smiling into the kiss as his hands stayed planted on your hips, gripping into your sides.

You pulled back before pecking his lips once more, leaning your forehead against his so you could see his big smile.

You glanced outside to see the snow getting worse as you let out a sigh.

“I should get going,” you whispered.

“But it’s a blizzard out there,” he mumbled as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. “And you don’t have a coat.” Another kiss at the corner of your lips. “Just stay,” he whispered as his lips met yours again.

“I don’t want to get us in trouble,” you whisper back.

“I know the RA. Don’t worry about it. I can pull some strings if he finds out,” he said with a cocky smile as you rolled your eyes, leaning in again.

“Won’t the residents know?” You mumbled against his lips.

“Let ‘em talk,” he said as his hand rubbed up your side, sending shivers across your body. “I won’t see them for over a month anyway.”

“Well, as long as the RA doesn’t find out, I think maybe I can stay,” you whispered as Shawn flipped you over so your back pressed against the futon and he hovered above you.

“I’ll make sure he never finds out.”

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ginwhitlock · 3 years ago

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summary: human!JASPER/ human!BELLA. Bella is called to deliver day supplies to a very tired and mostly lost 1st Regiment Calvary, headed by no other than Major Jasper Whitlock. What will the two do once left alone to go over maps of the Tennessee hills?

fic type: oneshot, SMUT 18+

warnings: is set in the civil war, which means Jasper is a soldier in the confederacy literally only because he’s from Texas I promise, it would’ve been weird to make him union and apart of the Texas Calvary as that wasnt a union regiment, I do not support the confederacy or any of its beliefs, its just part of his backstory and this fic is centered directly in his human life (the confederacy itself is not mentioned in detail, it is just alluded to the fact). This is a smut fic but not hardcore in anyway so be warned. Oh also I made Bella and Emmett siblings. Of course.

She almost broke his nose kissing him.

She almost shattered bone and cartilage clicking their teeth together, enamel scraping enamel.

She almost caved in the center of his face so she could lick the insides of his molars, separate his jaws to find the pit of his throat, dangle her self righteousness by his uvula.

And to think she almost didn’t go out that morning.

Isabella Marie was the kind of pretty you didn’t see right away. The layers of fine muscle and fragile skin hiding the richness of her blood-red cheeks, crisp even in the horrible heat of August. And with that heat came hot headed Calvary men with unlined coat pockets and a hunger for pretty little girls.

She met Major Whitlock three miles outside of town, the local preacher sending her out to their camp with as many baskets as her daddy’s two mules could hold on their hips. She was flushed, the slot of her breastbone slick with afternoon sweat— her riding boots did nothing but slosh around with her pale feet inside, leather no match for Tennessee mountain hidin weather.

Maybe she should’ve dropped ice down her shift. Maybe she should’ve played dead and waited for God to put her on her ass.

The thin brunette was graced with the presence of an even skinner red head the moment Stubborn Ass’s (as she affectionally called her steed in private) hooves entered the temporary camp. The mans hair fell limply in front of his eyes which were slightly sunken, the blue of his irises molting into a starved shade of dust. His lips were worse. Once pink and slightly plump, now skinny and cracked with the less than dusty air.

“Is this the 1st Regiment Calvary? From Texas?” Her voice was strained and feverish, salt dripping off her Cupid’s bow.

The man nodded and offered a hand, “Names Sargent Henry Arquette. Nice to see you Miss, the boys haven’t been able to get any supplies up here for days,” Bella grasped his hand tightly, afraid her unskilled balance would come into play, and forced her weight down to the ground ungracefully, “you’re the sheriffs daughter, right miss?” His smile seemed correct handing off his skinny face, his teeth crooked and off centered, but sweet. She quirked her lip in return.

“Yes Sargent, I seem to be your supply wagon today. There’s more back in town but I was told you wouldn’t be in for a day or so.” Flushed and overdressed, that’s how she felt. Every second.

Henry took in the view of the well fed half breeds and gestured off handedly, something she would come to learn was an action he didn’t even notice he performed. “Day. Days. Who knows until we ration it. These trails are less trails and more raccoon paths. I’m just waiting to see why the hell we’ve been sent so far east to begin with.” He had no recognition what was proper to say in front of the young lady at his side, the year had been sucked dry of any feminine… life, to say lightly. A piece of his brain nudged him for speaking so plainly, but Bella never once looked offended and twitched her head in both sympathy and understanding. She had been raised in these hills. She knew their damnation like the back of her hand. Maybe even the back of her skull.

“I’ve heard about raids up in McMinnville. Bases and such lining up and down the mountain. My brother’s part of the 16th Regiment Calvary up there actually, you know. Things are heating up in our little slice of the world.” The little thing spoke like a sparrow, her nose pointed and soft, the bottom of her front teeth pillowing into her bottom lip. At the age of seventeen she seemed somehow both grounded and unsure.

The south was ripping itself apart. And she— and the Sargent, knew it.

Bella could see the redhead start to comment on her brothers hand me down gossip when a giant of a man— boy? Man? Definitely man, by the looks of his muscled shoulders and high jaw, the darkened cast shifting just under the skin of his cheeks, the low dip of a scar just below his brow— a brow which furrowed, twisted, and arched back up into his tanned forehead when he noticed the mules waiting restlessly, tails swinging behind a girl in a kinder man's idea of a dress and interrupted the lower soldiers train of thought.

“You must be Miss Isabella McCarty. I spoke to your father when we arrived last night.” Clipped and forward were his words, his hand outstretched in front of him, decorated in mis-matched freckles and calluses she could feel pressing into the column of her throat as she placed her small palm in his. “Major Jasper Whitlock, at your assistance.”

No smile graced his face but by God she would witness his lips stretch over his teeth if it was the last thing she ever did.

Still with her hand in his she whispered “You can call me Bella. Or Bella Marie. Or Isabella Marie oh or my mother calls me Belle or sometimes when my father is upset with me he calls me Marie McCarty like my grandmother used to and um..” her tongue had to have swelled to the size of a watermelon in the three seconds it took to look him in the eyes— the swamp green eyes in fact. Eyes the color of duckweed and marigold stems and whatever leaves would stick to the blackberries in the spring.

He laughed. And it sounded like a white flag waving in her insides. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Maybe the preacher was a righteous man after all.

“I like Isabella Marie. Miss Isabella Marie.” Like rain drops on a tin ceiling.

The Arquette boy looked between the two before edging towards the black mules “Any orders where to put these, Major?” Skinny lips. Skinny spine.

Jasper had finally looked up from the strawberry cheeked girl in front of him, released their hands, and knocked his head backwards, towards the other soldiers checking tents and cleaning their own horses.

“Just take em back to the storage tent. Not like it’ll be competing for space.” The Major looked back at his men “Calhoun, Jennings, help Arquette move these rations will you? Make yourself useful for once.” His voice didn’t have to boom and condense like a rung out air horn, the cool of his vocal cords carried and personally plucked the not yet men from their activities and dragged them towards the group of three. Like some sort of magic act.

Bella was far from resigned. “So Major Whitlock, what would you like me to do?” Hopeful eyes, always searching to please. Or to piss off— as Emmett always scorned.

An upturn of lips flashed through Jaspers face and he looked to the sky for a mere moment “Mind helping me sort out some of my maps back in camp? My backwoods knowledge ain’t as sharp as my Houston kind and you seem like an expert in this area, getting yourself up to us all alone.” Bella’s feet started to move on instinct towards the felted wool tent covering a hundred or so feet behind the large man, but his hand stopped her at the shoulder, “And, if you don’t mind, would you be my guide back to town this evening? I’ve got to scout the path for the boys to pull through by the end of this week.”

She should’ve thought longer about it, linger over his words, the way his tongue flicked over his canines and brushed noticeably at the edge of his front teeth. But she didn’t. Not now. Not when the time it would’ve taken could pick at the carefully constructed wall built specifically for boys with serpent tongues. And lion hands. And bear teeth and… he still waiting for her response.

A shake to her head “Of course Major. If you’ll help me bring the mules back home, you’d be more help to me than I think I’d ever be to you.”

He could taste her self doubt. And he didn’t like it.

A jut of his brow led them through the ragged campsite, broken down cinders coating the bottom of her unusually worn boots, the lace of her dress clashing horribly with the scent of charred flesh and resting wounds. If only she knew a doctor. If only the town still had one.

His tent was one of the stronger ones, every inch placated with the spine of a book or a map binder or a drape of letters. He needed a desk and a real bed and maybe someone to make sure he stayed warm during the mountain nights.

Jaspers hands found a tiny stack of drawn maps and laid them over his now folded lap on the ground. Bella swiftly found her place at his bended knee and ran a finger over the torn edge. “These look older than my father. It doesn’t even mark the trail you follow to town.” The squishy flesh of her thumb traced an invisible oil line through the mountain and deposited itself in a town with seemingly no name, according to the parchment. “That’s home. If you’re following these maps I don’t quite understand how you ever got here.” Her eyes were full, engorged on road markers and faded city names.

Jasper softly nodded, their heads just inches from each other as she leaned in to scour the map. He had barely gotten to the camp they were in, his right hand Henry doing nearly all of the sight work. He’d be a hell of a tracker if he was a bloodhound. The blond almost chucked at the thought of Henry with big floppy mutt ears, yelping at the pretty girl almost in Jasper’s lap.

Her hair was like a chocolate waterfall. The good chocolate that mama got sent to her from her sister up north, the kind that was broken off continuously, piece after piece fed to him and his sisters until nothing was left.

Part of him wanted to see if she tasted as sweet.

He’d blame it on how damn long it’s been since he’s smelled anything other than soured sores and gunpowder. Even if Miss Isabella Marie smelled good enough to eat. Good enough to take like a man starved. And God— Jasper hungered like no other.

“There’s a river through the valley here, if you can find yourself through the woods.” Bella had found a piece of graphite and drawn in the harsh line of a hidden waterway just a mile or so from camp. She looked up at him as she spoke, her eyes warmly whiskey colored through her lashes.

His mouth clenched. “How old are you Miss McCarty?”

She blinked rapidly, like coming out of a daze. “Seventeen.”

Her hand dropped the instrument to the paper and draw up to his knee, the covered bone sharp under her knuckles.

“Do you have a boy at home waiting for you, Miss McCarty?” Hot air blew from his mouth to hers like a heatwave. Like a curse.

Bella’s lips formed a small “No” as she slid her small hand up the Major’s thigh, her singular ring gliding like margarine inch my inch as the seconds ticked by, each breath marking the two closer.

“Do you have a wife, Major?” Only whisper escaped her rosebud mouth, his face turning downwards, noses only separated by spirit.

“I was too busy waiting for you, it seems, Miss Bella.”

Her heart thumped her chest hard enough to make her ears ring.

Bella’s fist jumped from Jasper’s thigh to his army issued button up and crushed his chest to her own, her lips finding purchase slotted against his, the force clinking their front teeth together without care. His hands were gripping the roots of her soft waves, their skulls as close as their skin would let them. She wanted more, more, the heat suffocating the tent from more than the August sun. Her thin fingers slipped easily through the button gaps as his tongue invaded the privacy of her mouth. A horrible demented part of her brain screamed ‘Take, Take, Take. Mark me down and climb into the spaces that were meant to fit just us.’ Her brother had always called her too much of a dreamer. Too much of a poet and a believer and an artist. But God. This man was in her hands and she felt like a masterpiece.

A man she hardly knew.

But somehow, the scrape of his knuckles against her soon to be bare thighs felt like they had known each other at birth. Like Texas and Tennessee were just minutes from each other. As if they were the only bodies in the whole entire war.

Jasper’s hands were of no gentleman’s when he unfastened the ribbons holding her skirt to her waist, the under coat used for riding coming off like silk in his calloused palms. She was moaning into his mouth, the world outside the tent becoming buttery soft and not to be worried about. All there was was Jasper and his fucking mouth moving to her neck and his teeth toying around her jaw.

“Jesus, Major” He chuckled at her swear and rid her completely of every layer but her shift and the wool of her stockings, the small corset she wore becoming just cannon fodder for the mouth and hands of the Cavalryman.

“I love when you call me that, darlin. Wanna hear you scream it.” She had barely gotten open a single button on his shirt before he brushed the maps out of the way and flipped her on her back underneath him, the sway of his curled mane teasing her, the golden wheat just barely out of the reach of her teeth or fingers.

She wanted to use it like reins.

She’d especially like calling him by his rank then.

“You know I—“ her breathing caught the better of her as he lifted her by her thighs and dragged her ass to his kneeled position, his fingers running up her stockings with particular care, each inch another layer to her growing wetness. She didn’t let go of her breath until he had reached the skirting of her underdress, the white cotton nearly see through with the sweat sticking to every inch of her skin. His watery eyes devoured the sight with an indescribable hunger. Like a wolf hanging over a bleeding lamb.

What a happy sacrifice she’d be.

“Are you a good little southern girl, Isabella?” His fingertips brushed just under the fabric, his intent not easily hidden behind his hardened brow.

She came out trembling, she couldn’t tell over excitement or fear. “Yes Sir. No ones ever…” even her mother would blush saying those words.

Jasper finally smiled, sharp and soul quenching, like a mist of rain before a hurricane.

“I’m going to ruin you.” He couldn’t tell her about the wedding playing out behind his eyes or the static electric resonance he felt thinking about how another man would never get to lay a hand on his pretty Isabella.

His fingers slipped over her cunt, the soft curling hair tickling his fingertips. The moist warmth wet his fingers before skirting over her lips. He almost groaned. She was soaked. He had to see what his little Belle looked like in the light.

Jasper’s eyes met Bella’s giant blown out doe ones, her elbows holding up her upper body, trying to anticipate his very next move.

If they were playing chess, he was going to win. And she had always been a sore loser.

The skirt of the shift creased with the heat of his palms against her stomach, the slightly cooler air blowing across her pussy, making Bella suck in a breath through her teeth, her bottom lip becoming stuck under them with practiced strength.

Her knees knocked against Jasper’s hips as he watched the pink of her pussy clench around nothing, her wet little hole puckering and buzzing with the want of something under his trousers. He licked his lips as he had a gathered two fingers at her slit and traced upwards, her breath coming out in pants as he reached her clit, the engorged nub nearly ringing in her ears. A small circle over it make her moan from her throat. Bella had never felt someone else’s touch, she had never realized how much she wanted for it. She never knew how much she wanted Jasper to touch her.

The solider took his time as he brought the pads of his fingers back down to her achingly small hole and gathered some of her slick, the smell of sweat and Bella nearly driving him half insane as he brought a finger to his mouth, his tongue licking her clean off.

If Bella could speak to God directly and have him reply, she’d thank him for the creation of Major Jasper Whitlock.

But all she could do was cry out for more. And more he silently promised to give.

Maybe too much.

He had to stretch her out, the head of his cock wouldn’t fit into her without an orgasm in her, not now at least. Jasper slowly brought his hand back a third time and entered a single finger, her hips nearly bucking against his wrist as he slowly sat himself. A bead of sweat ran off his brow. A second finger partnered with the first after a few pumps, in and out, in and out. The near wetness coated on those fingers alone could bring him to release in his cot. He couldn’t wait any longer.

“Isabella I have to—“ “Please Major I need—“

The two looked at each other, their mouths in sync as they sat, their souls intertwining and bundling up into a bramble of wonderful thorns, coy smiles gracing both their faces.

Bella sat up slowly and draped a hand over Jasper’s belt buckle. “May I, Major?” The shorty craftsmanship of the iron buckle became putty under her unskilled hands as he nodded, now without words for the angel in front of him. The belt was off before the two noticed and Jasper brought his issued pants down to his ankles and off with his shoes to rest with the scraps of her dress he had taken off so quickly.

“Do you… always go bare?” The squeak of Bella’s voice made Jasper snicker like the teenage boy he technically still was, the nineteen year old clicking his teeth together and grinning. “Miss McCarty, sometimes underpinnings only get in the way of an army man.” A deep blush settled into her cheeks as she slapped at his chest, his shirt hanging open just slightly as he pushed her back to the floor.

“Shush, Whitlock.”

His smile turned feral as the head of his cock graced the hood of her clit, bouncing just slightly with the breath of their bodies. Jasper marked in his head that this should be a sight to see on their wedding night, not their first night together, but by God was it a beautiful one.

He looked at her as he grasped one of her hips with his right hand and the base of his cock with his left. “Breathe, Belle. Breathe with me, alright?” She nodded her head slowly and brought her own hand to the tent floor, grasping tightly.

Jasper’s hand guided the head carefully over her lips and to her quivering entrance. One buck and he’d tear her to badly to bear. No matter how long it had been… he’d never rush with his Isabella. Not now.

He slowly pushed in, the stretch a burn like no other, Bella’s voice turning from a quick steal of breath to a long sigh, the air being pushed out as he took her in. Inch by inch she devoured him, the heat marking his cock in emotional third degree burns. The sky burned brighter, the colors in his eyes turned clearer. Her hips and her fragile skin and the slip of her cunt was the end of the world and the birth of something entirely new. She grasped his shoulders as he mumbled a slew of impressive praise as he allowed her to adjust and seated himself at the very base of her cervix. Her throat screamed out to him as her nails dug in his back.

A wonderful, wonderful burn.

Bella slipped a hand to Jasper’s hip to push him back, to set any and all pace so that the fire would keep burning. He quickly slotted his face in the clench of her neck and began to move his pale hips, beginning to push and pull within her very tight walls.

The tent was full of grunts and moans and breathy screams he was sure the entirely camp heard. But Jesus Christ he didn’t give a single damn at that very moment. His boys knew to stay out of his shit and they be proven that every second until his angel’s orgasm.

God he wanted to fill her up. Wanted to take all of his cum and bury it deep where the lord intended, leave her leaking and exhausted and full of everything he had. He’d empty his balls in her again and again if it meant the Tennessee flower in his arms would keep him forever.

He wanted her forever.

“Major, deeper, please God please yes YES.” Jasper’s hips were snapping at a rapid pace, his balls slapping against her ass as he drove her into the hard ground. He could feel her tighten up the way he felt the air change around him before a fight broke out, the way a horse steps on a snake without jumping. There was an electricity in the air and the moment Bella tore his head out from her and pulled him into a jaw crushing kiss, he was crumbling at her feet, her pussy clenching and spasming around his cock with enough force to take out a grizzly bear.

She locked her legs around his hips as he all but collapsed into her, his hair sweaty between her fingers as she combed through it as his dick twitched it’s last time inside her belly. Jasper’s own hands found repentance under her ass and stayed there, too tired to remove himself from her heat.

“That ride home is gonna be sweaty, isn’t it?” Her whisper made her snort and bite into the side of her neck as she giggled.

#btw the link on the summary is always the ao3 link #i cross post things there #jasper/bella #my writing #mine #writing #fic #twilight #thetwilightsaga #twilight fanfiction #jasper hale #jasper Whitlock #jasper Cullen #bella swan #confederacy tw #smut tw #smut

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phantomphangphucker · 4 years ago

Text

Phic Phight - The Weird Little Shit

For: @darks-ink

A class discussion held by Wes about Danny’s weirdness was never not going to be an absolute cluster fuck

Wes smacks the board, “alright, fuckers, thank you for coming-”.

“We’re only here because we lost a bet”.

“Shut up, Dash. You shouldn’t have to be strong-armed into learning the truth”. Everyone rolls their eyes at Wes pretty actively. “Anyway, since you all refuse to see or even listen to the truth of what Danny Fenton is. Instead, this. Weird shit about Danny Fenton one oh one”.

Dash snorts, “now this I can get behind, little shit weighs, like, ten pounds or some shit”. Wes points at him aggressively, “exactly”. Scribbling down ‘weighs less than a sack of potatoes' on the board. Star throwing in her two cents, “yeah and I’ve seen Sam just pick him up under her arm and run off”.

Brittney smacks her desk, “half the time he makes food directly in home ec it’s fucking cold, which ew, but also really weird”.

“Oh yeah he does that with his drinks too. He whole ass ‘drank’ a solid chunk of ice, major power move honestly”.

“And remember that snowball fight? I don’t think he ever actually made any snowballs, he just kept acquiring them”.

“Kid made for a great air conditioner when all the windows got stuck shut though; guy runs cold as fuck”.

Wes is just aggressively scribbling more down with a mildly manic grin.

“We should totally invite him to parties so he can keep the fucking beer cold”.

Dash laughs loudly and smacks Dale on the arm, “now there’s an idea!”, deadpanning, “still not inviting freaky Fenton though”. Dale chuckles very awkwardly.

“Well he’s an ice sculptor so that’s not surprising”.

“What the fuck do you mean ‘ice sculptor’? He clearly lifts weights in his spare time”.

“Oh yeah, he lowkey picked up the back end of my car once”.

“James, your car is a tiny little piece of shit. I could lift that damn thing”.

“Hey”.

“Anyway. Like I was saying, people who handle cold shit all the time, you know, like ice sculptors, usually have cold hands”.

“He lifts weights! Not ice sculpts!”.

“Here I though he was a painter”.

“Why the fuck would he be doing that?”.

“Well he’s always randomly splattered in green paint”.

Basically everyone pauses to look at Hanna. Kwan blinking, “the green is ectoplasm, duh”. Emilie shrugging and nodding, “everyone knows that”.

“Well I thought it was paint”.

“Well you’re clearly stupid”.

“Shut up”.

Dash waves everyone off, “so clearly not a painter or weight lifter, because have you seen his goddamn noodle arms?”.

“He lifts weights!”.

“No he doesn’t!”.

“Who cares! Have you seen his dad? Of course he’s a strong little shit! What really gets me is him getting out of locked rooms”.

“Oh he whole ass climbs out windows and shit”.

“All that ecto that gets on his skin makes his hands all sticky, hence why he can climb the side of buildings”.

“When the heck did you see him doing that?”.

“Oh I totally saw him showing off knife swallowing to some elementary kids”.

“I think he hangs out and does drugs or some shit on the roof”.

“So he climbs up the school building to do drugs? Why wouldn’t he just use the hidden steps like a normal person?”,

“I’m pretty sure the kitchen staff actually include him in their budget for missing utensils cause he eats so many of them”.

“Julie, no one’s saying Danny’s close to normal. Also kids got an iron stomach damn”.

Dash has to jump in there, “I totally made him eat my underwear once”. Earning him a round of judging glances. “What? I didn’t expect him to actually do it. I was planning to mock him for pussying out. But then the little fucker went and did it”.

“Power move”.

“Shut up”.

“You fed your underwear to a guy who builds guns?”.

“Excuse me but what?”.

“Maybe him doing so much dangerous shit is why his heartbeats all slow and stuff”.

“Again, excuse?”.

“Well we totally tested everyone’s heart rates and breathing and shit and he’s super low. He blamed his corn supper”.

“That’s stupid”.

“His corn supper had teeth, Todd”.

“Back to the gun making because what?”.

“FentonWorks is a weapon company what do you expect?”.

“James, he made a shotgun out of a pencil, two toothpicks, an elastic band, and a snapped in half penny. The thing was magically welded together”.

“You can’t weld a fucking pencil. It’s wood, moron”.

“Well it was goddamn wielded”.

Wes grumbles, “yeah he welded my binder zipper together once, stupid pyrokinesis”. Star glares at him, “I thought this wasn’t about your crazy conspiracy crap?”. Wes glares at her like she’s stupid.

“Ignoring Wes being crazy again. You guys do know he has laser beam lipstick right? He could totally weld stuff with that”.

“Didn’t he have a tail that one day?”.

“Huh?”.

“That lipstick of his is the plasma peach one right? Because girl I so need some, it makes amazing blush”.

“Oh no a dog just crawled under his shirt. I think he was trying to hide the treats or some shit?”.

“Fucking where? in his shoulder blades?!?”.

“Oh my god that’s right, he can totally pop all his joints out so probably yeah”.

“Since when could he do that? Better yet, why? Fucking ow”.

“His fingers also glow green when he cracks them”.

“Right Right I remember that! We also got him under a black light, totally wild”.

“I wish I could pop out my joints randomly”.

“He probably just eats glow sticks and they leaked into his joints and shit”.

“THAT MAKES NO SENSE”.

“Who cares, take him to a rave”.

“Oh my god yes he does amazing makeup”.

“Wait Fenton does makeup now too?”.

Wes points at Dash, “he’s got to cover up the dead parlour to his skin somehow”. With half the class shouting, “HE’S NOT DEAD”.

Emilie pursing her lips, “but what if he was, that would be hot”.

“EXCUSE ME!?!”.

“Oh get off your vanilla basic bitch high horse, Karen”.

Wes rubs his forehead, “not this shit again”. Smacking the board, “weird shit about Fenton, people! Not y’alls weird necrophilia fetish!”.

“Hey that’s just Emilie”.

Jesse looks genuinely offended, “bitch what? Have you seen a ghost? That glow? Mmmmmh yeah, daddy”.

Star chokes, “oh my god. I love our town”.

Wes sighs, “I should just start blocking you people from seeing ghosts at all. Cover those eyes until you stop BEING FUCKING BLIND”.

“Eyes never stop seeing, they just get covered”.

“NO! NO! BAD!“.

“That weirdly reminds me that Danny can totally walk with his eyes closed”.

“That’s weird how?”.

“How ‘bout you fucking try it then!”.

Dash shrugs, “well his eyes go glowy green all the time so no surprise he can just see through his eyelids”. More than a few people look to him, “why did you not add that to the weird list?”.

“Because it’s not weird”.

“Dash... do you know anyone with goddamn glowing eyes... besides ghosts”.

“Uhhh the entire Defect Quartet”.

“Excuse?!?”.

“Honestly him biting open pop-cans is weirder”.

“Oh god yeah, that’s horrible to hear”.

“He dead ass cut his lip up once doing that and just... kept doing it. There was blood all over his neck”.

“Why the heck didn’t anyone take an edgy aesthetic photo of that? Goddamn”.

“I feel like this is more an off-the-books class on discovering that Danny might actually be hot”.

“You wanna say Fenton’s hot again? I’ll goddamn choke you, motherfucker”.

“Do it you fake ass bear dom”.

A couple of people shuffle out of their desks and away when Dash actually throws a punch at Jasper.

“On a side note, once saw Danny sleeping in a trash can”.

“How is that weird”.

“How isn’t it? It’s a trashcan”.

“And he’s trash, your point”.

“YOU'RE GONNA HAVETA HIT HARDER IF YOU WANT TO MAKE AN IMPRESSION ON YOUR TWINK BOY! HE’S DURABLE AS FUCK!”.

“FUCK YOU!!!”.

“Huh, he did survive falling from the ceiling multiple times and that drowning once”.

“Fucker wasn’t drowned, he can breathe underwater”.

“Excuse me?”.

“WHAT IS GOING ON HERE!?!”.

Dash snapping his head around, “IM TEACHING HIM A LESSON!”. Jasper just smirks, “I DON’T NEED BREATH PLAY TIPS FROM YOU!”. Dash tries punching him again.

“This is ridiculous, I mean really, Danny would be the dom”. That silenced the entire room.

“What?”.

“Come on, he ate Skulker once ‘cause the guy was coping him an attitude”.

“DANNY EATS GHOSTS?!?”.

Wes turns around and slams his head on the board, “God fuck this is such a cluster fuck”.

“You’re hosting this and holding us hostage here”.

“YOU’RE NOT MY HOSTAGES! YALL LOST A BET!”.

“Oh suck my toes”.

“WHAT?!”.

“While Wes loses his mind for the fifth time this week, what we’ve got is he’s icy as shit, likes welding and makeup and ice sculptures and weight lifting, weighs fuck all, just vores goddamn everything, and climbs shit weirdly well?”.

“You’re forgetting all the glow shit”.

“HA! Glowing shit”.

“Fuck Todd, you are a dumbass”.

“IN SHORT LOCAL ELDRITCH TEEN BUT HE’S STILL NOT A GODDAMN GHOST WES!”

“FUCK YOU! IT’S SO GODDAMN OBVIOUS HOW ARE YOU PEOPLE LIKE THIS OHMYGOD!”.

Just then Danny Fenton opens up the door, the class going dead silent while he glances around slowly. Him looking to the whiteboard, then slowly back to his fellow teens, speaking “Oh no. Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no, no”, while slowly backing out and closing the door.

At first, no one says anything before Star snickers, “pffft”; the entire classroom bursting out into laughter directly afterwards.

Wes turning around and smacking his head on the board once again, “why. Just. Why me”.

END.

Prompt: Wacky reveals (ex: Danny drying up too quickly bc intangibility, Danny's drink stays cool way too long, people's electronic devices are always more charged when they've been near Danny, etc)

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novakidds · 2 years ago

Note

I sincerely hope every queer person you ever meet recognizes you for the monster you are and runs for the hills. May you live an empty life, devoid of friends and loved ones. May your girlfriend pass before you do so you know unending pain.

recently, i went to a food drive for the local homeless, who have been kicked out of their shelters for what is essentially a campground during record rainfall. i spent hours running around making snack bags, menstrual kits, and sandwiches.

this happened to take place at the local gay bar. fine by me.

i kept bumping shoulders with visibly trans people, mtf and ftm alike. one particular ftm i kept bumping shoulders with spoke with a feminine, cracking voice wracked with the social nervousness i would expect of an anxious teenager in a crowded club.

i tapped the ftm on the shoulder. "same hat?" i asked. having decided on a whim to wear a binder that day, i gesture broadly to my chest. "same hat?" echoed in reply. "same hat??" "same hat????"

"LETS GOOOO" i ended, both of us carrying on being very busy, making a brief connection of what is, likely, assumed to be trans kinship in the wild.

she- biological, chronically anxious, misguided she- had no idea. she will also never know, will not break out in some cold sweat at bring spoken of in some specific way. neither will i, possibly referred to as "he" or "they" (wouldn't want to assume my pronouns, right?) in some bright-eyed recount of how the evening went.

i look just like you. i dress just like you. i talk just like you. i wear the slimy skin of "queer," and you wouldn't be able to tell the difference. you compliment my tee with mushroom print on it or my big earrings, as many others have. you would probably agree with my beliefs as obvious fact if worded in just such a way. i bet you already have. perhaps that's why you prostrate anonymously, atoning for your perceived sin for your fucking cult.

you, you small putrescent human being, every thoughtless spasm of your psychology bred blindly in iniquity, are a twitching nerve. a civilian cell that offers nothing to even a virus. your fetid cadaver would not attract flies, hollow as it is. you have nothing but venom for the world, forever toeing the line between worthlessness and being an active detriment. never thinking a day in your life. talking with you personally is likely akin to striking a wet match. there are no words strong enough for the pathetic, lashing cruelty, akin to a trapped animal, that you show, and thankfully in this medium i don't need to breathe in order to type it all, because you are not worth the investment of a disappointed sigh.

twitch elsewhere. along with the latest trends, the latest party mantra. in a kinder world, your social experiment would have already ended, and as gender-nonconforming homosexuals live in peace, you go about wracked with regret for your inhuman actions. i would not pity you.

you are so weak you cannot personally wish ire against me. just those that i know, unrelated. but i know you. you aren't aware that you know me, but i'm already in your sacred temples, saying your mantras. you lash blindly because you don't have any other way of telling other than what you're told. the moment you stop twitching mindlessly along, you will lose everything. your braindead tribe will oust you, and you will have nothing. those who you think love you will not miss your friendship, or think about it particularly deeply once you are discarded, ghosted at the slightest provocation, as you always have been. all the time invested in those you care about ultimately never making a return.

but i will still be here, and i will still be homosexual.

but at least you told some dykes to die today.

#post #ask #Anonymous #have a karmic curse :)

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sonnetthebard · 3 years ago

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This is kind of a crack idea, but I don't really care and I'm throwing it out anyway

Curt and Owen have to go undercover in a show for a mission(keeping an eye on one of the members of the cast maybe?). The show? Either Spies are Forever or a Hatchetfield show, take your pick -S

S anon... you have been waiting a while for this, and I apologize. With Headless, I needed a moment to recharge. So this is going to be a Modern! SAF fic. And as a treat, we're going original cast in an AU. That's right folks. Extra meta content. You asked for crack, you're gonna get crack. Please note: Most of the stories pertaining to the real people involved in this oneshot are made up based on what facts I know about them/ what I’m able to pick up on personalities. I don’t know any of these people personally, though. This is going to be such a ride, so buckle up.

Genre: Comedy/ Action/ Fluff

Words: 5639

TL;DR: Curt and Owen take the stage in order to monitor Chimera and one of their operatives. The thing is, they only have a vague clue as to who they're going after: he was one of the writers.

TW: Swearing, Guns, Fighting- But not much, this is mostly just gonna be a joke.

_________________________________________________

"Next we have... Curt Mega?" The longer-haired one read off, looking at Curt. "Cool name! We might have to use that- if, of course, that's okay with you."

"Oh... yeah, that's fine." Curt chuckled softly.

What, precisely, was Curt doing? Only the thing he'd vowed to Owen that he would never do (other than, of course, leave him): auditioning for a musical. Owen was a total theatre kid, and he'd done his share of musicals. Curt was always in the audience, but he'd jokingly told Owen that he would never be joining him up there. But... here he was. In an audition room. Curt never broke promises, not even joke ones. But these were... extenuating circumstances. In other words, this was for a mission and he had no doubt that Cynthia would actually kill him if he didn't follow through with his orders. Owen gave him a sly, triumphant smirk from across the room, where he was waiting for his audition. Curt got up, following the guy back further into the studio where they were holding auditions.

This mission was an odd one. It was monitoring a potential operative with Chimera Worldwide. Sure, they had the world by storm now- but A.S.S. was getting intel telling them that they might be breaching the privacy rights of people all over the world. In fact, Chimera may be a lot more criminal than they would seem to the naked eye. There was evidence coming to light of plots that could very well end in world domination. The worst part: apparently they were pretty plausible. One world government, puppeted by Chimera. That's why MI6 had sent Owen, and A.S.S. had sent Curt. They were their best agents, and a duo that had proven to work well together.

What did all of that have to do with a musical? To the average joe, nothing. Oh, Chimera had done well. They'd even declined to offer these guys a production grant so as to not seem shady. But... the A.S.S. had reason to believe that one of the writers and producers for the show that they were about to audition for was an operative for Chimera. Now, this play in and of itself may be an independent project. It may have nothing to do with Chimera. But... it was looking like the easiest way to monitor this operative, and so here Curt and Owen were. Owen was thrilled! He loved doing shows. He usually had to slot them into his schedule carefully, though. He couldn't do them during missions. So a mission where he was doing theatre was basically a dream come true for him.

Curt and Owen had chosen roles according to their experience with theatre. Curt had chosen to keep his name as his theatrical stage name, and Owen already did keep his name as a stage name. It was risky, but it also provided their names with a solid cover in the world outside of espionage. Owen had a legitimate resume built. That was why he was going for the lead, currently named 'JB' for 'James Bond' (subject to change). Curt, on the other hand, had stolen his resume from another actor named Curt Mega (who had fully agreed to that and signed an NDA and luckily enough happened to look like Curt). He had literally no acting experience, so he was going for a smaller role: The Informant and Ensemble. Both would likely have eyes on different parts of the production process and the cast. Hopefully they'd get a good idea of what was going on and who their target was. Maybe they'd even get to eliminate the threat! That was Curt's favourite part of missions.

"So, Curt... you did Glee?" The guy who had initially called him asked as they walked.

"Yep!" Curt lied.

"I recognize you! You were one of the Warblers- nice job on that solo in Uptown Girl, by the way." The man chuckled. Oh good. He was passable as the other Curt Mega. "I did Glee too. I was only there for, like, an episode though. But my buddy Darren... well, you probably know him."

"Yeah. He did a phenomenal job as Blaine." Curt smirked. Darren was also on an NDA. The government was being extremely careful.

"I'm Joey Richter. Me and my friends Brian and Corey wrote this show." The man introduced himself, extending his hand. Curt took it, giving him a firm shake. Joey smirked. "Damn... you've got a good shake."

"Thanks." Curt chuckled. He liked this guy. It was hard to imagine right now that he could be talking to an agent for one of the greatest evils known to man since... probably the Nazis. "I'm Curt... I mean, you know that, I just..."

"Yeah, I get it." Joey chuckled along with him. They walked into a room. Inside there were four other men. Two sat behind a table, Curt's supposed 'resume' and headshots laid out in front of them, a stack of papers on the side. Two other men shared a piano bench stationed by a keyboard. None of them were dressed particularly formally. Actually, they were all dressed pretty similarly to Curt. Short-sleeved patterned button-ups were about as formal as it got. So Curt and his black, white and gold striped short-sleeved button-up were in good company. "Hey, guys! This is Curt!"

"Hey! Welcome to the auditions for Spies are Forever!" One of the men behind the table smiled brightly. God, all of these men looked... so innocent. Curt couldn't see any of them being traitors to their country, much less mankind.

"Okay, so that's Brian. The guy beside him is Corey." Joey introduced. Corey waved. "The two guys at the piano bench are Clark and Pierce, our composers and band."

"Hey, Curt." Clark smirked.

"You brought your sixteen bars?" Pierce checked.

"Yep." Curt nodded, popping his 'p' and passing him the binder with his sheet music in it.

He'd brought Being Alive from Company, which Owen said was "such a cliche" and "a terrible choice for a comic show", but it was the song Curt felt most comfortable singing. So he was singing it anyways. Owen was very adamant that Curt had to be careful to actually be cast in the show, but Curt held that that song was his best chance. Curt had always thought he was an okay singer. He had his range that he shined in, and he used that. He never performed though. He wasn't that good. That's why he was going for a mostly non-singing role. He went over his cut with Clark, who was actually the one who would be playing for him. Then he cleared his throat, took a deep breath and gave it the old college try.

The odd thing, Curt thought, was that they seemed very into it. Either they were being very nice to him or they were genuinely enjoying the performance. Curt was a bit surprised by that. Owen was the performer among the two of them. Curt supposed it could just be the song. But then... something else unexpected happened. They asked Curt to do his cold read as 'JB'... and change the name to his own. 'Agent Curt Mega'. It was all getting a bit real for Curt. They liked him. And they liked his cold read. They were laughing during his cold read- and at all the right times! Curt was very confused. This wasn't where he was supposed to shine. He walked out of the audition room, and Owen was called in.

Owen really could not have come out sooner. Curt was anxious. What had he just done? He had given it his best because he thought that the best that could get him was ensemble. Was it going to get him more? Was he ready for more? He was past the point of no return, but... God, what had he just done? Owen came out of his audition, smug and content with himself. Apparently they'd asked him to read multiple sides. Curt hadn't the heart to tell him they'd asked him to read for the lead. A few days passed. Curt almost forgot that he'd even auditioned. That it had been so successful. Basking in the California sun could do that to you. But three days later, it all came back to him all too vividly.

"Curt, I got the email!" Owen announced from where he was lazing on the couch across from Curt in their hotel room. He sat up quickly, eager.

"What does it say?" Curt asked eagerly, sitting up with him. Owen scrolled down on his phone.

"Well... I'm in the show..." Owen furrowed his brows. "But... not in the role I thought. I got Deadliest Man Alive."

"Oh." Curt frowned. "I'm sorry. I know you really wanted the lead."

"It seemed like a juicy part." Owen hummed, still a bit dazed by the rejection. "I was looking forward to it."

"I know, babe." Curt sighed, getting up and wrapping his partner in a hug. "Maybe this one will be even juicier!"

"Maybe..." Owen nodded. "Thank you, love. For trying to make me feel better."

"Yeah, no problem!" Curt smiled softly.

"Did you get your email?" Owen asked.

"I... haven't checked." Curt admitted.

"Well go on, then! Sit! We'll check together!" Owen urged him. Curt sighed, sitting beside him and opening his email. Owen peered over his shoulder. The email from the Tin Can Bros was the first one that popped up right at the top. "Open it, Curt!"

"Okay..." Curt chuckled nervously, pressing the email to open it. He scrolled down, sighing in relief. "I got in, O."

"Congratulations!" Owen cheered, grinning. he was genuinely happy for Curt, and excited to be in the same show. "What role?"

"Let me scroll down..." Curt chuckled, before his heart stopped. Naturally, his laughter stopped with it, and his face fell.

"Love, what is it?" Owen furrowed his brows, concerned by the sudden mood shift. Immediately, his mind went to the worst-case scenario. "Curt, is there anything in there indicating that we might be compromised?"

"No..." Curt shook his head, staring at the role.

"Then... darling, what's wrong?" Owen blinked, before looking over his shoulder. His face fell to a state of shock almost equal to Curt's when he read the words, bolded on the screen: We would like to offer you the role of 'JB', renamed Agent Curt Mega. "Oh..."

_________________________________________________

Rehearsals for Spies Are Forever were potentially one of the best times Curt had ever had. Everyone loved him! Apparently, his voice was much better than he'd given himself credit for, as was his acting. Even Owen admitted it. It turned out Curt was perfect for the role. The songs fit right for him, the personality was spot on... the spy was even gay! It was as though it was written specifically for him to perform. Curt truly was having the time of his life. And Owen was loving the role of Deadliest Man Alive. It turned out it was a significantly juicier role than Curt's- funny, dark. And he even had a minor side comedic role to take on, Dick Big. So he could flex his chops in different area. There was a bit of a minor complication with the characters, though.

It turned out Curt's was not the only name that they'd liked. The Tin Can Bros had thought Owen's name was absolutely perfect... for Curt's partner turned villain. Romantic partner turned villain, to boot. They liked the ship name Curtwen. Ironically, both Owen and Joey were playing versions of Agent Owen Carvour- Owen playing him when he was in disguise as Deadliest Man Alive, Joey playing him out of disguise. Owen didn't make a fuss- he couldn't in the position he was in. But he didn't like being portrayed that way, or his name being used that way. The truth was, Owen had used to be morally grey. He'd had a phase where he'd almost betrayed his country and Curt. He'd very nearly done some terrible things. He wouldn't way who for, but Owen had implied it might have been Chimera. But he and Curt had worked through that, and he saw the error of his ways. It hurt seeing his name associated with villainy again. But for the sake of the mission, he literally could not complain.

As for the mission, they weren't really getting too far yet- and that wasn’t for lack of effort. As hard as finding a balance between rehearsal and espionage was, they’d managed to find a routine and stick to it. The work they were doing really should have been productive for them. They'd bugged all three writers and the two composers, but HQ (who was monitoring those so that the boys could focus on rehearsing so that they didn’t become too suspicious) was saying that they'd not gotten any suspicious activity from those except for Joey constantly being with an unidentified girl. But it seemed like that was his girlfriend and not another operative. So either this operative was smart and onto them or taking a hiatus from their work. Background checks were pretty clean. They were going purely off their interactions with these writers, which wasn’t really helping. All five of them were lovely. All five of them were also extremely smart. And all five of them had acting experience. Right now, though... Joey, Clark and Pierce weren't their main suspects. Joey was just too genuine to be bad, as were Pierce and Clark. Plus, if we're looking at technicalities (as Owen tended to), Clark and Pierce were composers, not writers. It was between Brian and Corey- unless something changed. Truly, it was anyone's game.

Owen and Curt were on break. It had been a hard day of rehearsal so far. Curt had just had to rehearse his pseudo-love-song with Mary Kate (who was lovely, but he was a bit jealous of- Owen had called her 'gorgeous' on multiple occasions now), and though it wasn't physically or musically demanding it was hard not to just start laughing. Especially with Curt, a gay man who had experienced this before. And Lauren played his meddling mother during the song, which only made it harder not to laugh. His own mother had no idea what he did or who he was seeing, and it was better that way. She just thought he was a single banker. He liked Lauren’s version of his mom better. She was way funnier. It had taken a bit of time just to get a run in where Curt wasn't giggling the entire time. The song was just so well written! He knew it was so unprofessional (and Owen had certainly reminded him of that) but he couldn't help it! And the Bros were laughing with him, so it was all good. He was glad to be on break, because his sides were killing him. He scrolled through his phone, checking for anything from HQ, before he felt a hand on his back.

"You know, Curt, I don't know if I've told you this lately but you're really, really great!" Joey told him.

"Thanks, man." Curt chuckled. "Thanks for the opportunity!"

"Thank you for coming out for our show!" Joey smirked. His voice dropped to a lower volume. “Listen... you and Owen are dating, right?”

"Yeah..." Curt furrowed his brows. He and Owen had chosen to be open about that. They were all pretty supportive of the LGBTQ+ community. The actor playing Susan and The Informant had even confessed to him that they thought they might be nonbinary- maybe even female leaning.

"Okay, so for the whole anniversary thing..." Joey fidgeted a bit nervously. "I mean... I've got an anniversary coming up, and, like, it's not my first, but... I think I’ve used every trick in the dating book at this point, and-"

"Wait, you're dating?" Curt blinked.

"Oh! Right, you're new!" Joey started to laugh. "Um... yeah! It's me and Lo."

"You and Lauren?" Curt smirked. He chuckled. "I knew it!"

"We're not public about the relationship yet, though, so... keep it quiet?" Joey pleaded.

"Oh yeah, you're safe." Curt assured him.

"So... any ideas?" Joey asked. “I really want this to be special for her.”

"Have you guys done the beach yet?" Curt offered. "Like, just a picnic- something you both love to eat- out on the beach."

"Yeah, did that two years ago." Joey sighed.

"Alright... how about a museum?" Curt offered. "It can be any museum that has something the two of you could bond over. But... I mean, Owen is super into experiencing art together."

"That we haven't done... not by ourselves on a date." Joey considered. "It doesn't even really have to be art, does it?"

"Nah, that's the beauty of museums! There are museums out there for everything." Curt smirked. “Maybe you two could go to a movie museum.”

"That’s probably more our speed.” Joey chuckled. “Thanks, man!”

"No problem.” Curt winked playfully. Then, he got an idea. He trusted Joey, so hopefully this worked. “Hey, can I ask you something?”

"I mean, I kinda owe you one." Joey chuckled. “Ask away!”

"Have you noticed anyone... acting a bit weird? Like... different from the way they usually do." Curt whispered.

"I... think I know who you mean." Joey nodded. "With Mary Kate... I think she honestly just misses Sean, you know? The rehearsals are a long time for her to be away from him. Those two are so close."

"Yeah... yeah, that must be hard on her." Curt hummed sympathetically. That... wasn't what he'd been going for.

"But I don't know what's going on with Brian." Joey confided in him. "I mean, it's not like he's been acting weird, per se, but... I mean, he always used to be down to just hang after work. But recently, he's been too busy to do that? I honestly thought it was just me who was picking up on that, but like... you're noticing it too?"

"Yeah. Yeah I am." Curt lied, all the sympathy he could muster in his tone. Bingo. He'd just gotten some really, really good intel there. If there was anyone who would be able to know when one of the writers was acting shady, it was Joey. They were his best friends. And Curt tended to agree with Joey anyways. Corey just didn’t give off villain vibes. Neither did Brian, but out of the two of them, Brian gave off more. “Glad it’s not just me.”

"What's he saying about me?" Brian rolled his eyes playfully, approaching his bag from behind them to grab something. Shit. He must have heard his name.

"Uh..." Joey blushed.

"Oh, he was just telling me about how you two met." Curt lied. Joey gave him a questioning look. But Curt remembered him mentioning it in another one of his longwinded vents. "U of Michigan, Freshmen year. You two got into a lot of trouble."

"He's not telling you any of the bad stuff, is he?" Brian teased.

"Nah, man- I respect the bro code!" Joey scoffed playfully. Curt gave Joey a wink, and Joey gave him a grateful look in return. The wink hadn't gone unnoticed by Brian though.

"Oh god, he is telling you the bad stuff, isn't he?" Brian groaned playfully. "Listen, if Lauren asks, none of it was us."

"Oh don't worry... I'm great with secrets." Curt chuckled. He kinda wanted context now. Knowing those two, it was nothing serious- Joey had a heart of gold. He wouldn't be involved in anything bad. Especially not with his soon-to-be-girlfriend. So probably pranks, or other such shenanigans.

"Guys... I already knew it was you." Lauren rolled her eyes. None of them had noticed her by her own rehearsal bag picking up her water bottle. "It was so obvious... I may have believed you when you blamed Holden like... once? Twice? But you literally signed off half of the time."

"We did?" Joey blinked, looking at Brian.

"Okay, look, some of the time... I was pretty proud of our work." Brian defended himself.

"Dude!" Joey started to snicker. "And here I was keeping secrets from my girlfriend for you!"

"Sorry, Joey." Brian winced.

“Eh, I guess I have to forgive you.” Joey rolled his eyes, chuckling. “You’re my best friend.”

“Hey, what’s that?” Lauren asked, noticing a pink piece of paper sticking out of Curt’s rehearsal bag. Curt blushed profusely. That was the letter Owen had written to pick him up. he took it everywhere with him in case he panicked so that he could read it, remember those days and calm down. It helped. He’d meant to keep it hidden.

“Oh... it’s nothing.” Curt lied.

“It’s not nothing, is it?” Lauren smirked. She gave him a genuine look. “Is it personal?”

“Oh, it’s nothing too bad.” Owen chuckled. Curt blushed further, feeling Owen wrap his arms around his waist. When had he gotten there?”

“What’s going on over here?” Corey asked, joining them. It seemed they had formed a rather large clump.

“I think Lauren might be about to read the first letter I ever wrote to Curtis.” Owen smirked triumphantly, clearly not embarrassed by that prospect.

“Ooooo romantic!” Tessa teased Curt. When had she shown up? God, for a spy, Curt was not very observant. He took a brief look at his surroundings. Ah. Everyone was there. Fantastic.

“Oh hell yeah I am!” Lauren smirked. She plucked the paper out of Curt’s bag.

“Oh god...” Curt groaned.

“You okay with this?” Corey checked with Curt. Curt nodded reluctantly.

“I mean, as long as O is.” Curt sighed, relenting.

With that, Lauren used the rest of their break to overdramatically read out Owen’s letter. Curt was a blushing mess, and Owen was grinning like an idiot. Evidently he was proud of himself- as he should have been. It was a good letter. At least Curt and Owen now had an idea of who to look into: Brian Rosenthal. It was a bit odd to think that Brosenthal might be a Chimera operative. He was a funny, quirky... he didn’t seem ruthless enough. Maybe they were wrong. But this was literally all the intel they could get at the moment. Mind you, they needed concrete evidence before they could actually do anything, but... at least they had a lead. Even if it was a weird one. The thing about espionage was that leads were usually weird. So they... well, they managed to bug all of the writers’ houses a bit more to give HQ more to work with, but especially Brian’s. That way the minute they had solid evidence, they could act. Well... not the minute. More like within about twenty minutes. But same difference. There was nothing else they could do.

________________________________________________

Nothing happened through the rest of the rehearsal process. Literally nothing. No one did anything suspicious. Honestly, Curt and Owen were starting to think that their superiors were wrong. They were performing their shows- with excellent reception, might they add. People were loving Curt. The real Curt Mega was getting huge acclaim on Curt’s behalf. And the fans... well they were going mad. It was looking like the show would be a huge success- which meant two things. One, Curt was going to have to do more theatre. Cleary he was good at it. Two, his life as a spy was about to get more... complicated. IT turned out these guys had a bit of a cult following because they had been involved with a theatre group called Team Starkid? Curt knew about them from his mission briefing, but honestly he’d never thought that they were that big of a deal. When he’d confessed that to Owen he’d gotten a long lecture. Apparently Owen was also a fan, and that was half of why he was so excited to be doing this show. But that was a topic for another time.

It was about the third show in when they finally got the evidence they had been looking for. It... was not when they’d planned to find anything. Actually, it was at the least convenient time. Between acts. It was also in the least expected way. Curt had to get his props for the top of Act Two. Owen decided to go with him, mostly to make sure he wasn’t a total and utter child. Honestly, they just meant to get their props before places. They were the only ones in that area backstage- the stagehands were resetting the stage and helping with costume changes/ tech issues. Well, they thought they were the only ones backstage. They should have been. But it turns out that someone else had anticipated the lack of people, and was using that to his advantage. At first, all Curt and Owen could hear were murmurs- not distinguishable in the slightest. Bey both gave each other a look before pulling out their real guns (which they hid on their costumes just in case) and following the sound. And that was when they saw him. The culprit behind all of this: Bri- Corey Lubowich? They lowered their guns a bit, staying dead quiet. That wasn’t what they’d been expecting. {erhaps this was a false alarm.

“I am in the middle of a- no, I get that my work with you is important! Believe me, I know!” Corey hissed. “I just... tonight is one of my shows! I’m going on as the Prince! I- well can it wait half an hour? I mean I’d prefer two hours, but if I have to whip out my laptop backstage, I- well I’m kinda insisting on- come on, you guys know my theatre is important to me!”

“Okay... so we were wrong...” Owen whispered.

“We don’t know that...” Curt reasoned. “It could be his family.”

“Of course I’m loyal! When have I not done what you said? I have sacrificed so much for you!” Corey fumed quietly. “Chimera is my life now! Not theatre, not my family or friends. Chimera! Do you know how fucking weird that is for someone my age?! I’m too young for all this corporate shit! No! No, of course that’s not what I’m saying just- can I have my night? Come on, this is really important.”

“Okay, I take that back.” Curt blinked, stunned. He was just a bit too loud. Corey’s head snapped in their direction, and both men raised their guns. Corey’s eyes fumbled, and he pulled out a gun of his own, haphazardly aiming it at them.

“Okay... shit, guys, I’m going to have to call you back... we’ve got a situation.” Corey muttered. His face fell and he rolled his eyes, unimpressed. “No, not a theatre situation. An us situation. I’ll fill you in- look, they have guns. Just- I really don’t have the time for this anymore- NOT MY JOB WITH YOU! This conversation! Jesus, I’ve got two guns pointed at me! Let me go! Okay, fine! Bye!”

“You...” Curt spat, glaring at Corey.

“You guys finally figured it out...” Corey sighed, raising his gun fully at them.

“You know who we are?” Curt blinked.

“How?” Owen asked him coldly.

“Chimera has eyes and ears everywhere.” Corey rolled his eyes. “Just like in the show. I knew you were coming, and I knew you were looking for me. I just didn’t think you’d actually find me.”

“Are you insulting our intelligence?” Owen scoffed.

“No. I just thought I set up Brian pretty well.” Corey admitted. “It was pretty easy, too... all I had to do was point out to Joey that Brian wasn’t coming to as many of our hangouts as he used to. You trusted Joey. Joey relayed that to you. Threw you completely off my scent.”

“Yeah, aren’t you just the friend of the year.” Curt rolled his eyes. “You threw your bro under the bus.”

“You’re lucky we didn’t get a false tip-off and eliminate him.” Owen hummed in agreement. “You’ve no clue the kinds of things that could set our superiors off.”

“Well... It’s Brian. The chances of him doing anything sketchy are slim to none.” Corey reasoned.

“Corey, I’m going to need you to put that gun down and put your hands behind your head.” Curt sighed.

“Alright, guys, places!” Joey called out to them. Everyone was backstage- except, oddly, Lauren (who was usually pretty punctual on cues). Shit. Their timing was awful. “You can play with the... are those our prop guns?”

“No... those are too modern.” Brian furrowed his brows, approaching them to get a closer look. He blinked before stumbling back. “Holy shit, guys... are those real guns?”

“Yes, they are... and you’re going to need to stay back.” Curt told them levelly. “Lubowich, gun down, hands behind your head.”

“We outgun and outman you.” Owen reminded him. The fact that Corey was so reluctant was astounding. “And we have a license to kill if you don’t cooperate.”

“Okay, guys, what the fuck?!” Joey exclaimed.

“Can we just... put the guns down and talk this out?” Tessa pleaded.

“No... we can’t.” Curt shook his head. “My name is Agent Curt Mega, American Secret Service. My partner is Owen Carvour, MI6.”

“Our credentials...” Owen muttered, pulling them out with one hand and holding them out to Brian, who was closest. He hesitantly took them. Corey shot Owen while he wasn’t in peak position to shoot him. Curt shot Corey back with no hesitation. Neither shot was fatal, Corey’s hitting Owen in the arm and Curt’s hitting Corey in the shoulder. The impact was enough to make both men stumble back. Owen stayed on his feet, but Corey fell. Curt kept his gun trained on Corey.

“Holy shit, they’re not lying...” Brian mumbled.

“Okay, Corey... what the actual fuck, man?!” Joey fumed, definitely feeling a bit betrayed.

“Corey... why are you fighting the secret service?” Mary Kate asked coolly, trying to be the level-headed one.

“He works for Chimera.” Curt told them, knowing they might not get a clear response from Corey for a bit.

“The assholes who wouldn’t fund us?” Brian groaned. Corey grunted in admittance. “Come on, man! This just keeps getting worse and worse!”

“Okay, guys, I’m here. Sorry I took so-” Lauren started, rushing out. She saw the scene playing out and blinked. “Holy fuck! What’s going on?!”

“They’re actual fucking spies, Lo.” Joey hissed. “All three of them.”

“Pretty sure Curt and Owen are the good guys.” Brian added in a whisper.

“Oh yeah, Curt and Owen are definitely the good guys.” Tessa gulped.

“Corey is an agent for Chimera.” Curt explained.

“Please tell me this is an elaborate prank.” Lauren chuckled nervously.

“No, Lo... this time it’s real.” Joey sighed.

“Okay, but... Chimera’s just a huge global corporation, right?” Mary Kate reasoned.

“Not really.” Corey croaked out.

“They’re plotting world domination.” Owen grunted.

“Corey...” Joey breathed.

“World domination makes it sound bad.” Corey grimaced. “We more just want control over every world government... and then maybe to take all of them out and form one Chimera government.”

“That doesn’t make it sound any better.” Tessa winced.

“Why?” Brian asked Corey, hurt. “Why are you doing this?”

“Honestly, I just needed a bit of extra money in college.” Corey muttered, trying and failing to find his footing. Clearly he wasn’t a field agent too often.

“So you turned to espionage?!” Lauren scoffed incredulously.

“Honestly I started as a delivery boy and then I found out some shit I should never have known...” Corey sighed. “It escalated really quickly.”

“God, this is a mess.” Joey groaned.

“Curt, love, can you give our superiors a ring?” Owen prompted him. “I’ll deal with our former friend here.”

“On it.” Curt nodded, pulling out his phone.

“So... do we stop the show?” Brian asked Owen as he pulled out a zip-tie- another essential item Owen always kept on him, even in costumes.

“Oh no... the A.S.S. is the epitome of discretion. Believe me, you’ll have no clue what’s going on. Just see if you can find a friend in the audience to go on for The Prince.” Owen told them, tying up Corey and forcing him onto his feet. “Owen will take him outside and... he should honestly be ready to go on after We Love The Prince.”

“Holy shit... okay...” Lauren sighed.

“I’ll make an announcement that we’re having technical difficulties...” Joey planned. “Let’s, um... just take a moment to breathe and get back into the right headspace.”

“We’ll be back in a moment.” Curt told them as he and Owen took Corey outside.

“Rot in hell, you asshole!” Brian called after him, sniffing. Was he... crying? You know what, it was completely fair. That was one hell of a betrayal.

So Curt and Owen passed Corey onto their superiors, and Spies Are Forever was able to go on. They got Nick Lang to play The Prince, which only made the fans more excited. Curt and Owen were allowed the opportunity to finish their run with the show- which Curt was so, so grateful for. He loved theatre. he never thought he would, but he loved it. And Owen loved that he loved it. Spies are Forever was the first of many shows for Curt. He got into the habit, like Owen, of doing shows between missions. In fact, he actually got to make Owen a little jealous later on- he got into a Starkid show. Mind you, they knew who he was. Fully this time. They even supported him- helped him build a public backstory. The real Curt Mega’s wife even played wife to him publicly when she needed to. It was a new start in Curt’s life and one that he hadn’t even known he needed. Finally, everything seemed like it was okay.

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