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waitineedaname · 5 years ago

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Lightning Round, Take Two

kudos to @notedchampagne for inspiring this!!

also on ao3

“This is a terrible idea.”

“It’ll be fine.”

“She’s going to hate me.”

“She’ll love you.”

“Love me? Love me?!” Karkat all but shrieked. “I don’t know if you’ve realized this, Dave, but I don’t exactly make the best impressions! In fact, one might even say I make the worst impressions! We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t end this visit early because she can’t stand being around me because I have the personality of a deep seated pimple!”

“Damn. The kind it hurts to pop?”

“Yes! The kind of pimple that never forms a head and settles on your upper lip so it hurts every time you move your mouth! That’s what my personality is like: persistent, painful, and pus-filled!”

“The three P’s.” Dave mused, and Karkat shot him a scowl. “C’mon man, don’t sell yourself short. You’re like a blackhead at the worst.”

“Don’t pander to me, Strider.” Karkat grumbled and crossed his arms, but he didn’t complain when Dave slung his arm over his shoulders. “I still think this would go much better without me.”

“Nah, dude, trust me, this is the best option. I mean, best case scenario, if I did this by myself, she’d be like ‘omg do u have a bf’ and I’d be like ‘yeah’ because that’s part of what I’m tryna do here, tell folks about us, but then she’d want pictures even though she’s definitely met you, and then I’d have to show her all those cute pictures I took of you when you weren’t looking, and I know you don’t want that.”

“You what?”

“You didn’t hear that.”

Karkat rolled his eyes and leaned a little closer into Dave’s side, eyes tracing the little carapacian homes they were walking by. Dusk was falling, much to his relief; they both had to make compromises when they realized their species operated at different times of day, but he still avoided leaving the hive when the sun was glaring and ready to burn him to a crisp. Dave probably could’ve flown them all the way to Roxy and Calliope’s house, but Karkat hated making him carry him that far (Dave always insisted he wasn’t that heavy, but the strain in his voice never escaped Karkat’s notice), so they were walking the last few blocks. Karkat had a sneaking suspicion Dave was fine with walking because he was trying to delay the inevitable. He was nervous, if the way his fingers were tapping on Karkat’s upper arm or the way he kept clenching and unclenching his jaw said anything. Karkat sighed and unfolded his arms to wrap one around Dave’s waist.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, you know.” He said, surprising Dave into looking down at him.

“What? Who said I’m worried? You’re the one who’s been bitching the whole evening.”

“Because I want to make a good impression on your weird paradox ancestor, shit for brains. I’m saying you don’t need to be worried about coming out to her.” He met Dave’s eyes through his shades, something he’d gotten good at over the sweeps. “Of all fucking people, she’ll be the most fine with it. That’s why you’re telling her first, right?”

“Yeah, I know, it’s just-” Dave sighed and looked away. He was better than he used to be, but holding eye contact was still hard for him, “It’s a big deal, you know? I mean, Rose probably figured it out from living in a confined space with us, and Dirk kinda got it out of context clues, but this is a first using the big B-word.”

“She’ll be fine. And if she isn’t, I’ll tear her apart and at least give her a reason to hate your boyfriend besides my shit-awful personality.”

“Aw, babe, I dunno whether to be flattered you’d attack my mom like a feral raccoon or bummed that you’re trashin’ yourself.”

“How about we compromise, and I’ll stop shit-talking myself if you stop stressing yourself out about this.”

“...Deal.”

“Good. Because I think that’s her house.”

“Oh shit.”

The two of them stopped just outside the elaborate building the carapacians had offered Roxy and Calliope back when they’d first arrived in the middle of Earth C society, both of them brimming with anxiety despite their reassurances. Karkat almost thought Dave was going to say this was too much for him and turn around and fly home, but he unwrapped himself from Karkat’s arm and instead held his hand to walk up to the front door and knock.

“Just a sec!” Roxy’s voice rang out from somewhere inside, and a few seconds later, the door opened to reveal her smiling face. “Davey!” She squealed and launched herself at him, hugging him tightly. Dave, to his credit, adapted quickly and let go of Karkat’s hand to hug her back.

“Sup, Rox.”

Roxy pulled away from Dave to turn towards Karkat, who instinctively took a half step back. She noticed and laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hug you if you don’t wanna. Is a fistbump cool?”

“I don’t know if I would call anything a certain red asshole harangued me with in the early years of our friendship ‘cool’, but it is acceptable.” That made Roxy laugh, and he gave her a light fistbump.

“Karkat, bro, I can’t believe you’re just calling me uncool in front of my mom. What the fuck. What is this betrayal.” Dave shook his head, but he already seemed more relaxed.

“Dave, I dunno how to break this to you, but you’re related to me ‘n Dirk.” Roxy tried to adopt a sympathetic expression despite her grin. “You’ve got dork running through your veins.”

“Goddamn. You’re tellin’ me I’ve got a genetic predisposition for this shit?”

“Yup. It’s chronic. Doctors everywhere’re rushing to write studies on our family to try and isolate the ‘cool-but-really-not-cool’ gene.”

“Let’s hope it’s not replicable in a lab or anything. I’m pretty sure Earth C can only handle four of us.”

“Ohmigod, can you imagine them trying to test it out. Little lab rats wearing shades and writing wizard fic. Holy shit.” Roxy gasped at her own idea, an unbelievably pleased look on her face.

“Oh my dick. Fuck ectobiology, this is the science I want to invest in.”

“Absolutely not.” Karkat interjected. “There’s already enough of you jackasses, I think I’d have an aneurysm if any more blond lunatics were running around.”

“Lol,” Karkat couldn’t believe Roxy just said that out loud, “You’re probably right. Are we gonna keep fucking around about cool mice on the doorstep, or do you guys wanna come in?”

She stepped aside to lead them inside and showed them to the living room. “Callie’s out picking up dinner. I would’ve made something since I invited you guys over for dinner, but living in the water apocalypse did not leave me with many cooking skills.”

“Hey, no shade here.” Dave shrugged, plopping down on the couch with Karkat at his side. “I don’t think I’d be able to work an oven if I tried. We’re a strictly take-out household. Hivehold? I dunno, but we’ve barely touched the kitchen in the week we’ve been here.”

“Excuse you, I made those Hot Pockets yesterday.” Karkat countered sharply.

“Yeah, and they were like 30% cooked, dude. You put them in the microwave for thirty seconds and then panicked.”

“Fuck you, I don’t see you doing much better! In fact, I distinctly remember you eating those frozen pizza pockets like a ravenous barkbeast! It was like you’d been locked in a cave with nothing to eat for half a sweep and my delicious plate of folded sauce treats were the only thing saving you from a miserable, malnourished death!”

“I mean, a Hot Pocket’s a Hot Pocket. I’m not gonna turn one of those fuckers down, who do you think I am.”

“I think you’re a wiggler with no sense of taste.”

“You eat bugs.”

“And you put ranch on your pizza! Bricks and glass houses, Dave!”

“Dude, do trolls even have that expression? Aren’t y’all light sensitive? Why would you have glass houses?”

“Newsflash, dipshit, I’ve lived in close proximity for the majority of the past two sweeps with an overflowing fountain of pop culture references and idioms and an uppity seer that likes to make things as convoluted and difficult to understand as possible. I picked up a few human phrases! Uh, no offense, Roxy.” Karkat added at the mention of Rose.

“None taken! I’m pretty sure she gets that from Dirk anyway.” Roxy waved him off. “Take it back to the ranch on pizza thing tho, do you really do that? Is this some earth delicacy I missed out on?”

“Oh fuck yeah, it rules. You gotta try it some time.” Dave nodded, excited to get someone else to try his food crimes.

“Imma have to take a pass on that.” Roxy said, crinkling her nose.

“Finally, someone with taste!” Karkat exclaimed, and Dave gently hit his shoulder.

“I am slowly workin’ through traditional earth food tho! Or at least as traditional as you can get here. That’s where we’re getting dinner from! There’s this human/troll fusion place that Callie and I like. I dunno how authentic it is, but it tastes good at least!”

“I mean, nothing on Earth C is super authentic, it’s all like human diet slightly to the left, but it’s edible.”

“Better than the garbage we alchemized on the meteor, at least.” Karkat agreed.

“God, the fucking buffalo wings debacle.” Dave and Karkat shuddered in unison. Roxy looked amused.

“You guys spent a lot of time together on the meteor, right? And now you’re living together?” Roxy asked, and they both nodded. She had a look in her eyes that was far too reminiscent of the look Rose got when she was gearing up to psychoanalyze someone, and Karkat was hit with a stroke of panic. “Sooo, I should prob’ly do a lightning round with you too, right? Since you’re important to Dave?”

The pair shared a look and Dave shrugged, appearing nonchalant despite the way he was anxiously picking at a loose string on his jeans. “Uh, I guess?” Karkat said, bracing himself.

“I’ll start easy, I promise!” Roxy drummed her fingers on her lips as if thinking. “Hm… you’ve got ‘cat’ in your name, do you like cats?”

Karkat made a face, thrown off by the question. “I guess? I never had one, but Nepeta was pretty fucking into them, and they seemed… fine. I can respect a meowbeast that just lazes around if it’ll leave me the fuck alone, but Nepeta’s lusus could’ve probably torn me to shreds, so…” He shrugged.

“Was Nepeta a friend from the game?” Roxy backpedaled the moment she saw Karkat’s face fall. “Oh shit, tender subject, sorry.” She worried her lip, looking for another question, then perked up. “Oh! What’s your sign? I know it’s Cancer from earth astrology and stuff, but what’s that mean for trolls?”

Karkat looked down at his chest and grimaced. “Fuck if I know, I don’t actually have a sign. I spent most of my life thinking this stupid thing meant precisely fuck all. I guess it’s a symbol of my ancestor? But I never really learned much about him since the empress always tried to erase his rebellion, and I thought that ancestor shit was highblood bullshit anyway. I guess now I know it’s not, but ugh, I could’ve happily gone my whole wretched life without meeting that douchebag.”

“We met his ancestor in the dream bubbles.” Dave explained. “Or I guess descendent? Since y’all are technically the post-scratch group? I never really understood that part.”

“Doesn’t fucking matter, he was a pretentious asswipe with his head so far up his nook it’s a wonder he was even audible, but oh god, was he audible alright.”

“Lmao, I kinda wanna meet this guy.” Roxy grinned.

“No you don’t.” Dave and Karkat said in unison, which made her laugh.

“I’ll take your word for it.” The mischievous look was back in her eyes. “Next question! Have you ever had your quadrants filled?”

Karkat almost choked. “What the fuck kind of question is that? That’s none of your fucking business!” He blustered. “My quadrants are private, and it’s my decision if I want to bring them up! Are all humans this fucking nosy or is it just the Lalondes?!”

“It’s just the Lalondes.” Dave said flatly.

“I just thought it’d be fair since I asked Dave that in our lightning round!” Roxy put her hands up in apology, but didn’t look particularly apologetic. “I was curious!”

Karkat was about to continue his rant about people feeling entitled to knowledge about virtual strangers’ quadrants, but the way Dave sat up and cleared his throat gave him pause.

“Actually, Rox,” Dave started, fidgeting a bit, “I never answered that question back on the lilypad.”

“Yeah, but that’s okay!” Roxy brushed him off. “I’m not gonna push you to answer something you’re not comfy with.”

“That’s the thing. I wanna answer you now, if that’s cool.”

“Oh!” Roxy’s eyes widened. “Of course that’s cool! That’s cooler than cool.”

Dave lifted an eyebrow, a smile pulling at his lips despite himself. “What’s cooler than being cool?”

“Ice cold!” Roxy shouted at the top of her lungs, and the two of them chanted “alright” about a dozen times while Karkat watched them in bewilderment. Humans, he thought. He’d never understand them.

“Okay, but for real tho,” Roxy said once they’d both gotten a handle on their giggles, “You wanted to say something?”

“Yeah.” Dave almost immediately looked anxious again, running his hands over his jeans. “So. You asked if I’d ever kissed anyone or-” He cleared his throat and the rest came out in a mumbled cough, “-been in love.”

Karkat held his breath, eyes flicking between Dave and a very focused Roxy.

“The, um. The answer to both of those questions is… yes? And I know you’re wonderin’ who, that’s like the next logical question, like if you ask someone if they’re hungry and they say yes, your next question is probably gonna be ‘what do you wanna eat’, unless you’re a total dick and just wanted to, I dunno, be aware of someone else’s hunger for your own sick pleasures and leave ‘em waiting like you’re some kinda sick torturer tryin’ to extract information out of a prisoner, like ‘hey are you hungry?’ ‘Yeah, I am, actually. I’ve been hanging from my ankles for a week now and I’d kill for some motherfucking KFC right now.’ ‘Interesting. Go fuck yourself.’ That’s not a very good interrogator, actually, he didn’t even try to get any information out of the guy except for the knowledge that he’s really craving some chicken, which is virtually useless, unless the interrogator is working for KFC’s competitor, like Popeyes out here tryna get the deets on their rival brands. Hey, do you think they’ve got a Popeyes anywhere on Earth C? Maybe we should start one, make a shit ton of money. Really boost the economy.”

“Dave.” Karkat cut him off before he could get too far from the topic, giving him a pointed look. “Were you actually going to say something important or were you going to just talk out of your deflated ass forever?”

“Hey man, you know you love my ass.”

“The point, Dave-!”

“Right right right.” Dave shook his head and took a deep breath before looking at Roxy again, who looked like she was might be putting things together already. “It’s Karkat. The answer to ‘who’, I mean. We’ve, uh. We’ve been dating since the meteor.”

Roxy’s whole face lit up. “Aw, congrats you guys! That’s really sweet!”

“Yeah.” Dave looked over at Karkat and gave him a tiny smile before looking a little apprehensive again. “I’d, uh, appreciate if you didn’t tell anyone though? I mean, the rest of the meteor crew probably knows because we spent… a lot of time together.”

“Most of that was platonic, though. A good two-thirds of it, at least.” Karkat countered.

“True, but they don’t know that. Far as they know, one day we were just two bros hanging out and watching movies and shit, then the next day, Vriska walks in to catch one of those bros taking a snooze on his other bro’s lap and falling off the couch the moment she announces her presence.”

“I’ll give you three fucking guesses which dumbass that was.” Karkat directed that at Roxy, and she snorted.

“Rude.” Dave nudged him. “But yeah, they’ve probably figured it out, but we haven’t officially told anyone. I haven’t even told anyone I’m, you know. Bisexual.”

“Wait, so I’m the first person you’ve told?” Roxy looked a little stunned.

“I- Yeah? I just thought you’d probably be a safe person to go to, especially since we don’t have any weird baggage like I might have with John and Jade, you’re just my alt-mom, which I guess does make things a little weird-”

“It’s a little weird, but it does mean you get a certified mom hug!” She interrupted, standing up.

“A mom hug? Dunno if I know what those are like.” Dave said, smiling a little.

“They’re like this, you big goober.” Roxy pulled him into a tight hug, pulling him down a little so he could put his head on her shoulder. “I’m proud of you, Davey. That’s a big deal, comin’ out and shit. I’m glad you felt like you could tell me.”

“...Thanks mom.” Dave’s voice was a watery mumble against her shoulder, but he seemed to have collected himself by the time they pulled away. Roxy immediately turned her sights on Karkat.

“Your turn! You’re family now, you can’t escape hugs anymore.”

“Ugh, you humans are so fucking tactile.” Karkat grumbled but resigned himself to Roxy’s affectionate squeeze.

“Hey man, don’t act like you’re not cuddly as hell. I have to pry you off of me with a crowbar to go take a piss sometimes. You should see this dude when he gets sleepy, Rox, it’s so fucking cute. Did you know trolls purr? It’s some kinda flushed noise or something and it’s the fucking best.” Dave seemed to already be relaxing now that the thing he’d been dreading was over with.

“That’s private!” Karkat hissed, embarrassed. Dave just grinned at him and sat a little closer when they took a seat again. “Do you want me airing out how you melt like a touch starved candybar left in the sunlight when I suggest you should be the little spoon? Or how you turn into a warbling puddle of Dave when I do this?” He reached over and out his hand on Dave’s knee, rubbing his thumb in soothing circles. Casual affection, Dave’s weakness.

“Aw,” Roxy cooed. Dave looked thoroughly embarrassed and made a strangled noise in his throat. Karkat gave him a smug look.

“Shut up.” He grumbled weakly and scooted a little closer so he could press against Karkat’s side and hold his hand.

“So you guys are matesprits?” Roxy asked, and Karkat’s anxiety immediately returned. Dave wasn’t the only one who had coming out to do. Dave squeezed his hand and let Karkat start since this was his thing to discuss.

“Mostly?” He offered weakly, then tried to sound more certain. “We’re kind of pale too.”

“Plus I piss you off in a pitch way sometimes.” Dave added helpfully.

“And the way you kept me from tearing Vriska apart on the meteor was sort of ashen.” Karkat admitted.

“I mean, there wasn’t really much of a chance of you tearing her apart to begin with. Spidertroll could’ve probably kicked any of our asses in her sleep, she’s fuckin’ crazy.”

“My point still stands!”

“So…” Roxy interrupted, guiding them back on topic, “You’re in all quadrants? I didn’t know trolls did that!”

Karkat winced. “They don’t. Usually. It’s extremely frowned upon.”

“Karkat’s had trouble keeping shit in one quadrant.” Dave explained for him. “He’s got a big ol’ heart full of love.”

“I’m pretty sure you’re the only person in Paradox Space to come to that conclusion about what my useless fucking pump biscuit is full of, but thanks for the thought.” Karkat rolled his eyes, defaulting to annoyance to avoid the insecurities that always gnawed at him when he thought about his relationship with quadrants. “‘Full of love’ is usually not the first thing people describe me as. More like ‘full of a burning anger’ or ‘a perpetual stream of irritable piss’ or, hell, ‘just undiluted dumbass juice!’ As far as most people are concerned, I’m Karkat ‘useless shitfit’ Vantas, and they’re not fucking wrong!”

“Okay, sure, you might be the grumpiest person in all - what, is this five universes now? I can’t keep track, but that doesn’t mean you’re not secretly a big softy.” Dave rubbed his thumb over Karkat’s knuckles. “I know that best out of probably anyone.”

“If it helps, I don’t think of you as those things!” Roxy added. Karkat gave her a disbelieving look.

“Full offense, we’ve never really ‘hung out.’”

“I mean, no, but I’ve seen you interacting with Dave and John and Kanaya and stuff, and you’ve always seemed to be a caring friend underneath all the yelling.” Roxy shrugged. “It’s nice knowing Dave’s in good hands since I’ve only been part of his family for a couple weeks. Means I don’t have to give you a shovel talk prob’ly!”

“The shovel talk? What the fuck? What does that even mean?” Karkat looked at Dave for an explanation, but he only winced.

“You know, when parents meet their kid’s partner and are like ‘you better not hurt my baby, or I’ll kill you.’ That kind of thing. I’m guessing trolls didn’t do that on Alternia?” Roxy tilted her head, seeming genuinely curious. Karkat’s face contorted as he wrapped his head around that concept.

“Okay, first of all, no we didn’t because we didn’t even have parents and our lusii wouldn’t give two shits about our quadrantmates. Second of all, you better not even think about giving me your ridiculous human ‘shovel talk’! I’ve known Dave far longer than you have, so it really should be me going ‘don’t fucking hurt him,’ but I know I don’t need to because Dave can fucking handle himself! He doesn’t need your bullshit defenses! If I ever hurt him, I trust him to be able to tell me to fuck off out of his life - not that he’d ever need to because I’d rather establish a culling system in the Troll Kingdom and offer myself up as their first sacrifice than hurt Dave!” He took a deep inhale to continue his tirade, but Dave cut him off with a pat to the cheek.

“Yo, dude, shoosh, it’s okay. It’s really not that big of a deal.” It was only after Dave cut off his train of thought that Karkat realized how worked up he was getting, and he shrank back down against Dave’s shoulder, embarrassed. “I’m pretty sure Roxy was kidding, anyway.”

“Yeah, for sure!” Roxy nodded quickly. “I didn’t mean to imply you were gonna hurt Dave or that he couldn’t take care of himself or anything. That’s hella not my place, and you guys seem very good for each other.”

“Oh. Well. Good.” He sent her a warning glare just to make sure he’d gotten the point across, then forced himself to let some tension out of his shoulders.

“It is really nice knowin’ my family’s in good hands though.” Roxy smiled. “Hell, it’s nice knowin’ I have a family! Oh my god, Dave, do you realize none of us Strilondes are straight? I mean, Rose ‘n Dirk are both gay as hell, and then you and I are bi!”

“Yeah- Wait, what?” Dave jolted a little in surprise. “Rox, you’re bi too? Since when?”

“Uh, since always?” Roxy laughed a bit. “I thought that’s why you came to me, because you knew!”

“No! Holy shit, I gotta process this for a second.”

“LMAO.” Roxy said, pronouncing every letter. “Yeah, dude! I mean, can you blame me? Like, dudes are hot as fuck, that’s like self explanatory. I mean, have you seen the Englberts? Eglishes? Whatever their family name is, John and Jake are both total babes, but then there are girls too! I mean, Janey, what a gal, right? And Callie too!”

“Right?” Dave enthused, clearly excited someone understood where he was coming from. “Girls are so fucking good, hot damn, but then? Dudes? Holy shit?”

“Yeah!” Roxy was just about throwing herself out of her chair with her excitement. “I can barely leave the house, it’s just smoochable babes everywhere I turn.”

“I’d say it’s a goddamn plight, but I got the most smoochable right here.” Dave emphasized his point with a kiss to one of Karkat’s horns, making him squawk. Dave laughed a little and turned back to Roxy. “Yo, but rewind back to Callie. Soooo, are y’all two, y’know…”

Roxy looked remarkably like Dave when embarrassed. “Uh…” The sound of the front door opening and Calliope’s greeting voice cut her off. “I’ll get back to you on that!” Dave waggled his eyebrows at her but didn’t push it.

Dinner was an enjoyable affair, despite Karkat’s near constant crippling fear of being miserable in every social engagement. The food was good and pretty close to tasting like home, and the conversation was fluid - mostly because Roxy and Dave chattered the entire time like hyperactive squirrels. Karkat tried to be annoyed with their ridiculous stream of consciousness discussions, but he couldn’t help but feel warm watching Dave talk so comfortably with his ecto-mom. And he certainly wasn’t the only person happy with the situation; every time he and Dave started bantering back and forth, he could see Roxy’s delight out of the corner of his eye, and the absolutely lovestruck look on her face whenever Calliope spoke didn’t escape him either.

Eventually, though, they had to head home - though Dave and Karkat had both shifted their sleep schedules to be active in the afternoon and most of the night, the majority of their human friends were still diurnal and needed to go to bed eventually - so after a few more hugs from Roxy, they were sent on their way.

Dave landed them down the street from their hive, and Karkat didn’t complain about having to walk that last distance. The Troll Kingdom was just now starting to wake up, stores and restaurants lighting up, trolls in suits rushing to their early jobs, and young trolls getting ushered off to school. It was so different from Alternia, but Karkat thought he could probably get used to the differences if it meant he didn’t have to worry about getting culled at a single glance at his blood color. Maybe it was too early to tell, but if he let himself feel just the slightest bit optimistic for his future, he had a feeling he could be really happy here. He could live a peaceful, successful life on Earth C, and if the cheerful way Dave was swinging their clasped hands meant anything, he wasn’t the only one feeling hopeful.

“So,” He prompted, leaning into Dave’s shoulder, “I guess that could have been more horrible.”

“Yep.” Dave said, popping the ‘p’. “We’ll have to scrap those emergency plans. Cancel our name changes and facial reconstructions and flights to the other side of Earth C, no need to run away immediately.”

“I don’t know, we might have to keep that shit pencilled in. We still need to tell John.” Karkat reminded him, and Dave groaned.

“Oh fuck. Yeah, never mind, you sure we can’t just fuck off into another universe? Universe D here we come. The D stands for Davekat ‘cause it’ll just be us, babe. It also stands for Dick because, come on, it’s us, of course it does. Also Dinosaurs just ‘cause. Do you think dinosaurs are a universal constant? Like, did dinosaurs exist for you guys? Or- oh shit, do you think they evolved differently? Are trolls just super evolved dinosaurs?”

“Dave,” Karkat gave him a look, “I think I would know if I was a dinosaur.”

“I dunno, dude, maybe we’re all dinosaurs-”

“Okay, I know when to cut that shit off.” Karkat rolled his eyes and let go of his hand to unlock their door. “Seriously, I think… that went okay. Less than horrid.”

“Less than horrid, huh? That’s a big compliment coming from you, are you feeling okay? Are you gettin’ some kinda fluffy feelings from hanging out with Roxy too long, ‘cause like, I get it.”

“Shut up. All I’m saying is this might not have been as much of an ordeal as we thought, this ‘coming out to everyone we know’ thing.”

“Maybe. You might be right.” Dave admitted, following him inside. “But that involved way too many emotions, and I think all my brain’s been used up for the rest of the day for anything that involves more thought than playing Xbox for seven hours straight. You down?”

“Fuck yes.”

#homestuck #davekat #dave strider #karkat vantas #roxy lalonde #calliope's there for like a second #okay to reblog #my writing #this was fun to write!#i. really like writing karkat he's very fun.#also she/her pronouns are used for roxy bc this is pre-them figuring out their gender #this is epilogue non-compliant household but i do want to keep roxy's journey to figuring out they're nonbinary

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auntie-diluvian · 6 years ago

Note

What would have happened in chapter 2 if you decided to write it?

Eek I’m so sorry I took so long to answer this!

The longer I think about it, the more I think a second part would have really jumped the shark any way I’d have written it, but I did have some thoughts*, which got… uh, kinda long (hence me taking forever to answer your ask), so I’m gonna put them beneath a cut if I can figure out how.

Some of this was sort of charted out in a long chat between me and Py (specifically I think the bit with Papyrus showing up, which I think was her idea?), but that conversation was so long ago it’s been lost to the sands of time (and tumblr chat having no search function), so most of this is new and specific to the version I posted.

I had a couple of scenes in my head that were a little more defined, the rest was just kind of vague, and it never came to a conclusion, really. So I guess, in theory, all of those “Reader goes to Italy and carboloads themself into personal fulfillment, Sans dies of skelesyphilis, and his gf fucks off somewhere” fantasies can still happen. If, you know, by the end of me rambling about this, any of that still sounds, oh god, you know, fuck, appealing, or whatever. If not, then uhhh whoops sorry I don’t have any ending for you at all, my dude.**

Also this hasn’t been beta’d or anything, I didn’t want to give it the same status as the stuff I actually publish, just like, on principle? so like. keep your expectations in check maybe? especially re: some of the most cliche and melodramatic dialogue I’ve written to date lol

The first scene was to take place on Jan 2nd:

Your friend, the one you’re now glad isn’t speaking to you, is standing at your door, anxiously clutching a small, rectangular cardboard box bearing a sticker you recognize as the logo of your favorite bakery. She speaks to you, and you feel your stomach flip.

“Um, so, these are for you. Uh, happy new year, by the way, and um, the frosting probably got a little smushed- you know how high they like to pile it on. But, you know, they’re fresh, so- should be good. Got your favorites.”

She hands you the box and you peek inside. Cupcakes, of course. Half the frosting’s on the lid, like she said, and you stare at them, dumbfounded. Can’t look at her.

She clears her throat.

“I know what I’m like, sometimes. I can be melodramatic and petty and- and self-destructive. I do dumb shit like drive away my closest friend with the silent treatment because I didn’t get the answer I wanted. I’m so sorry. You were right, and, god, furthermore? The entire thing was just… stupid, you know? Can you forgive me?”

You sway on your feet, dizzy.

“Of course.”

She steps forward and hugs you, and as her arms wrap around you, so does an awful panic.

Your cell phone is burning a hole in the pocket of your bathrobe, from the text you had received ten minutes prior, alerting you to your friend’s impending arrival:

Sans: she’s coming over to your place. please don’t tell her anything. i’ll figure something out. sorry to ask you to do this. i’ll make it up to you

Sans: ok that sounded wrong. not what i meant. everything sounds wrong though

Sans: i’m sorry

“Oh, thank you,” she says, sounding more grateful than she should, her scarf tickling your cheek. “That’s such a relief. Thank you.”

Really just laying that guilt on thick. Uhhh let’s see, after that:

You tell her you’re sick just to get her to go away and she believes you because you look horrible and are wearing a bathrobe in the middle of the afternoon

Cue angst about furthering the extent of your dishonesty

The next day she texts you just to “catch up” but in the middle of it, drops that Sans has been more than usually distant. They talked about so much and she knows it’s going to take time for things to get better, but since that first conversation on New Year’s Day, he’s kind of shut down-

But enough about her problems, what’s been going on with you? Oh, Not Much, you tell her. You’re still getting over your cold but you’ve gone back to work. It’s the truth, more or less. You have the sniffles, at any rate, though that’s more due to your daily extended heartbreak/guilt crying alone sessions than any physical malady.

A week later, your friend is back to sending you memes and talking about her job, your favorite shows you watch. Sans is living with her. Everything is normal, on the surface. Sans chimes in on the group chat every now and again, but that’s it. Not another word from him. The awful feeling in the pit of your stomach has faded to a dull ache that only bothers you at night.

Which is why it’s a total surprise when Papyrus shows up on your doorstep one evening and lets himself in. You didn’t even know he was in town. You’ve met him a few times, loved the guy, but he’s not here for a social call.

Well, okay, he is, but it’s not a pleasant one. He is. So. Disappointed. In you. He’s prepared a speech! To express the enormity of your fuckup.

About the 45-second mark of which, you break down sobbing. He stops immediately and grabs you a glass of water and a cool washcloth for your neck.

He apologizes as you calm down, and you have a long talk with him about the hows and the whys. It’s incredibly cathartic, you’ve never told anyone about any of this situation, and you’re drained by the time you’re done. But as he leaves, he has this look on his face and you hate it- pity tinged with trace amounts of leftover dismay, so it’s a relief to lock yourself in for the evening, even if the alternative (i.e. being alone with your thoughts and your guilt and everything else) isn’t much better.

An hour or two later, you get another text from Sans: “i’m sorry again, i didn’t know he was gonna do that.”

Interrupting myself here to say as an aside, so much for a synopsis of my vague concept; this is now going on 800 words. Look at all this work you definitely made me do that I didn’t put on myself at all. Anyway.

Sans text, continued: “he’s in town cuz of me, though, so i think i gotta listen to him. he’s uh saying we should get together and talk about how i”

“hang on”

Five minutes later: “scratch that i’m not listening to him.”

Ten full minutes later: “we can have lunch tomorrow. to talk. if you want. you don’t have to agree to it. i’ll understand.”

It’s about two in the morning when you finally respond: “Where and when?”

He replies immediately.

It’s a good sandwich. A shame you can’t do much more than just poke at it and nibble at the toppings that have fallen out of it onto the wax paper basket liner. And the bag of chips is completely out of the question. You’ve already put them away for later, for when you might eventually start regretting skipping lunch because of the awful somersaults your innards keep doing. Sans’s sandwich isn’t faring much better- he’s twirling his frilly-ended toothpick between his fingers, occasionally poking it into his dill pickle wedge.

Neither of you has said a word past your perfunctory greeting and the order you’d both placed at the counter eight minutes ago. The rest of the sandwich shop doesn’t seem to care, though. Most of its other patrons are absorbed in getting their order and getting out, or making the most of their too-brief lunch hour. It’s noisy, and it would be the perfect setting for the conversation you’re supposed to be having, you credit Sans with that much. If you could just speak.

You’re staring off over his shoulder, at the display rack of different brands of hot sauce, when he startles you by biting off over half of his pickle, chewing, and swallowing with his eyes closed and a sigh.

“thanks for… you know, not telling her yet.”

“I didn’t do it for you,” you say with enough sourness to give that pickle a run for its money.

“no, yeah, i know- i just. yeah. i’ll tell her, though. soon. uh, -ish.”

“Will you tell me when you do it? I don’t think I can take another unexpected visitor, and I-” you laugh, ”-I’m going nuts checking my phone, panicking at every single notification.”

“‘course. yeah.”

“Okay. Thanks. For that.”

“sure.”

You tear off a piece of sliced turkey that’s hanging out the edge of your sandwich.

“…can i say somethin’?”

“That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“i didn’t- uh, know you had- i just thought you were riding the same wave of… whatever that was, as me.”

He clears his throat.

“i didn’t know you felt that w- i mean, that you had actual feelings for- at least, not until you started sayin’ all those things–”

“–I changed my mind, I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

He ducks his head.

“yeah, okay.”

You take another bite of your sandwich, chewing as you scramble for something, anything, else to say.

“So. Uh, how’s, um, y'know, everything else?”

He blinks, shakes his head, and laughs.

“what, you really wanna know? or are you askin’ just to ask?”

Shit. No, you don’t really want to know.

“Yeah. I wanna know.”

He leans back, the plastic of the chair back creaking, and looks out the window behind you.

“shit… it’s all… it’s all fallin’ apart on me.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, already a well-honed reflex.

“not your fault, really. in the end. i’m just already tired. a week ago, this’s all i wanted, for everything to go back to normal. but it turns out normal was just a lot of her pretending she could stand me. and we’re not pretending, anymore. so… but that’s supposed to help us sort everything out, right?”

Goddamn your bleeding heart that got you into this in the first place.

“feels capricious of me, right? but if it’s gonna end, why can’t it just end already? but i’m not allowed to give up yet, because that’s not what we’re doing, we’re working through our issues.”

He pushes his basket over to the seat next to him, and folds his arms on the table, head nestled into them.

“even though giving up is all i wanna do anymore,” he says, voice muffled by his sleeves.

“Every relationship requires work, Sans,” you say. Platitudinal, but true, if not particularly helpful.

“but at what point do you cut your losses? is it before or after the seventieth thing this week she tells you you’ve been doing wrong all along that she never bothered to mention to you before? you know she prefers the loose end of the tp to come out underhanded? i didn’t. she’s wrong, but hey, fuck- anything for my baby. i’m tired. i didn’t know it was gonna be like this.”

Underhanded toilet paper rolls? Do you even know who she is?

“i should just go ahead and tell her about this whole thing, already, see if that- i dunno, breaks us beyond repair. but if i do that now when all our wounds are still fresh, i don’t get to say i tried to fix things, and i guess on some level, i need that.”

He rubs his face.

“fuck, listen to me whine. i’m making it sound worse than it is. ”

“Dude, I don’t know. I’m still horrified by the toilet paper thing.”

He snorts.

“i don’t even use the stuff much, so it wasn’t worth makin’ a whole thing out of it.”

“Okay, but I’m fixated on it. It’s like, all I can think about. What the fuck?”

You’re overcome with the strangest feeling- it shouldn’t be so odd to you now, three weeks into your guilt spiraling, but you want to text her about this so badly, to give her grief about it. And if this were a normal situation, if you hadn’t made everything awful, you wouldn’t hesitate. But you’re having a clandestine lunch with her boyfriend to discuss the awful thing you did, and therefore you can’t give her shit about her weird habit you now know about thanks to him, which is what friends do. Friends don’t let friends put the roll on the wrong way without at least dragging them for it for the rest of their natural lives, so can you still even call yourself her friend?

Probably not, huh? That, and the other thing you did. Friends don’t do that, either.

Your smile fades as you start to understand on a much more personal level what he meant. You doubt you’ll be granted the same mercy as him, of working out your issues, and until then you have to live like this, unable to even joke around without it turning bitter. You’re going to lose her, too- you’re going to lose them both, maybe, probably, and the waiting and pretending is only adding to your misery. It’s a hollow kind of wanting, for something to be over and done with, but it’s rooted in you all the same.

You finally decide you’re not going to finish your sandwich, but you wrap it back up in the wax paper liner anyway, and start putting your coat back on.

“Well. Thanks for meeting with me. I think I’d better head back to work, now.”

“you realize we didn’t talk about what happened at all, right?”

You shrug. “Maybe we shouldn’t. Maybe we don’t need to.”

“you don’t- you don’t have anything you wanna say to me.”

You close your eyes and sigh.

“I’m… sorry?”

“shit, yeah, me too.”

“It was a mistake.”

“unequivocally, yeah.”

“I think that about covers it, don’t you?”

He nods silently.

“Then… I’ll see you around.”

You almost make it to the door, leaving him slumped in his seat with his uneaten sandwich. You look outside at the cold, slushy parking lot, check the time, and nearly get in your car and drive back to work. But instead, your feet carry you back to the table, back to Sans.

“I do actually just have one question.”

He looks up at you, and you can see deep into his eye sockets, and the dark semicircles beneath them, how tired he is.

“sure. anything,” he answers.

“If you had known how I felt, would it all have gone- would we be here now, having this conversation? Or would I have gone home before and none of this would have ever happened?”

Your fool brain wants you to continue: Or would you have stayed?

But you already know the answer to that one, so you stop yourself; these questions are dangerous enough, as is.

He actually looks somewhat taken aback.

“i don’t- i dunno. and i dunno how much good speculating about it’s gonna do. what’s done is done.”

“Please. It’s the one answer I feel like I have any right to.”

He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets and leans back.

“yeah. i think i’d have done the same thing.”

Your chair creaks as you fall back into it, defeated.

“Why?”

“what do you mean, why? did it seem like i gave a shit who else i was hurting at the time?”

He slumps a little further down, and in a softer, more soothing tone, says, “what are you after? do i care now that i hurt your feelings? …yeah. not that it really counts for anything.”

“It counts,” you croak.

“hmm.”

He stands, finally.

“guess you’re right, though. i’d better be getting back to work.”

He shrugs on his wool coat and winds his scarf around his neck.

“you uh… you gonna be ok?”

Are you? Feels like… maybe not?

The sobbing starts, even as you will it not to- christ, no, anything but that.

“oh. uh. shit.”

People are staring, now. You hide your face behind your hands, try to even out your voice to reassure him and your new audience that no, really, you’re fine, but it just comes out all the more overwrought for your efforts. Sans is useless, grimacing, hands outstretched towards you, placating, like with a panicking animal, and it reminds you of the conversation you’d had that night, when you’d offered yourself up as a shoulder to cry on.

“you wanna get out of here?” he asks, and you nod, rolling your eyes at your own uninvited histrionics and swiping at your cheeks.

“k,” he says, and when you open your eyes again, you’re sitting on your couch, in your apartment.

“got tissues?”

You swallow.

“Uh, bedroom, but- please don’t go in there, it’s- it’s bad.”

“k.”

He returns a few seconds later with a handful of toilet paper, and you take it from him.

“hey. it’s gonna be okay. y’know why?”

You blow your nose.

“Why?”

“no matter what else happens, you’ll always know: you put the toilet paper on the holder the right way.”

You chuckle weakly into your wad of tissue.

“You’re right. I’ll always have that.”

He sinks down on the couch next to you. Not too close.

You sigh and slump forward, elbows on your knees, calmer now.

“Well, that wasn’t supposed to happen. The- you know, the turning on the waterworks in a sandwich joint. That was embarrassing. I’m embarrassed.”

“happens. plus, i think you’ve earned the right to cry.”

Your chin wobbles again, threatening.

“Oh? I have? Cool. ‘Cuz I don’t know what I have the right to feel, or do, right now. It all feels wrong.”

“yeah. i know,” he mumbles.

“Sometimes I start feeling sad, for me, because of what I’m about to lose because of this? But then- no, can’t do that, because- hey, maybe I should have thought of that before we-” you catch your breath.

“yeah.”

“I’m mad at myself, and I’m pretty okay with that. But then sometimes I think maybe I’m mad at you for like, seven different reasons, and half of those reasons conflict with each other, but I can’t even… stay mad at you like I think I want to.”

You aren’t looking at him, but you can feel his stare.

“like how?”

You poke and prod at your face, trying to relieve some of the tension headache that’s building around your eye sockets and temples.

“Like, as your friend, I’m annoyed that you put up with ALL of her bullshit. You’re such a doormat when it comes to her. But as her friend, I’m so fucking appalled that you’d sleep with me, her best friend, less than a month after the breakup of a like- how many years? Six?”

“…seven.”

“Seven year relationship. Fuck, sorry, not to belabor the point or anything, but- yeah.” You sniffle. “And then- here’s the kicker. Just as me, alone, not relative to anyone else- I keep wishing you’d just fucking stayed in bed after I poured my heart out to you. Like I have any right to feel that. And of all of it, all the shit, that’s the one that sticks the worst, so the rest don’t get a chance to mean anything.”

The second you turn your head to make eye contact with him, he’s there, leaning in, warm. Big old eye sockets looking at you just like you’d wanted for so long.

“i should’ve. i know.”

Your breath leaves you, almost-but-not-quite on a sob, as he kisses you, and everything is right and better, if only for a split second.

“Wait.”

“yeah- yes. ok.”

“What about-” you can’t bring yourself to speak to him more than a few inches removed from the kiss, as if tethered there by a spell, “-what about everything you just said, what- this isn’t fixing things.”

“no.”

“And I can’t- you can’t do this to me again.”

“i won’t. it won’t be like last time.”

“You can’t promise that,” you say as matter-of-factly as you can manage, given the circumstances.

“keep thinkin’ about how i can’t remember the last time i felt the way i did when you were sayin’ all that stuff about me.”

Your cheeks flush even harder, as if the rest of you hadn’t yet gotten the memo.

“That’s called an orgasm.”

The ridge above his nasal cavity scrunches up pleasantly when he laughs.

“We shouldn’t. If it was wrong before, it’s so much worse now.”

“i know.”

You cast your eyes aside to your front door, then down to where your hands are almost touching as you lean towards each other on the couch.

“You’re so full of shit, you know that?” you ask. “Fuck you for making me fall for it twice.”

Your eyelids flutter shut as you pull him in by the back of his neck.

THEN YOU FUCK AGAIN!!! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING!!! HOW COULD YOU!!!

hehe

He keeps his promise, more or less. It’s not her he has to run off to, at the end. You both have half a day of work ahead of you. You’re both late, and it’s as good an excuse as any for you to pretend he won’t still be going home to her, later.

You still have questions. You can’t focus at work.

He never promised much of anything, you now realize. It felt like he was offering much more, but- so what? Is he actually done with her? After everything? What does this look like tomorrow? A week from now?

What, you seriously think he’s going to leave her for you? Only if she kicks him out, you think, bitterly. Which makes you what, exactly? A consolation prize for his neglected ego?

You call him right as you’re getting off work, but hang up before he can answer. You want the truth??? You can’t handle the truth!!!

Things get better as they get worse. He starts coming over to see you, at least once a day. He stays an hour or two when he can. He talks with you in bed.

Yours, now, you think, sometimes.

You don’t ask him when he’s going to tell her. He’s choosing you, so he has to, right?

He will. Soon.

*Now I’m looking back at the beginning of all this and I’m like-

Some thoughts??? Bitch! You just wrote most of the damn thing! And after you said you weren’t gonna!

…So CLEARLY I had like, a little more I evidently wanted to say about this fucking thing. So there you go???

GOD that was a lot of dashes in there though, huh? I didn’t even try to keep the number down.

Oops hehhe

But, uh, yeah! I don’t know how this ends! Or even, at the risk of sounding a bit pretentious, if it ends! Maybe everyone learns from their mistakes and suffers the consequences! Or maybe nobody does! Or maybe it’s a weird combination of learning and not learning and suffering and not suffering because it’s supposed to be like, way more complicated than that.

**Or maybe reader and Sans’s gf wind up auditioning for the same local network tv wrestling show and they have lots of sexual wrestling tension together and also reader has like a will-they-won’t-they thing with an 80s disaster caricature of Marc Maron and they both bond with a group of wonderful interesting women and get to create something bigger than themselves!

God, I love GLOW. Maybe just go watch GLOW instead of this, it’s like, basically the same thing only with more eighties vibes and less skeletons and more women’s wrestling and less magical penises.

So really, not the same thing at all except for the one plot point of sleepin’ with your best friend’s dude that they kind of share, but very very good, you know?

Anyway! I love getting asks (I apparently love them so much that I can’t help myself and end up writing almost an entire chapter just to answer them), and fleshing out all the vagueness a little more without the self-imposed pressure of having to finish it into something publishable was really fun. So thanks for this ask!

#ask #the-one-eyed-king-kaneki-ken #habby balentimes day #sorry mobile users i know this was long as shit #sorry everyone actually #sans/reader #for auld lang syne my dear

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jeonsolar · 6 years ago

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Miraculous Ladybug 2x16 Troublemaker *Commentary*

I’ve done this five? times. And some people like it. But I’m doing this simply because I find myself funny. And I need to empty my brain. So, I hope you guys enjoy my brain dump.

Ok. To start off, Thanks so much to @wild-mare-of-prosecution for giving me a link to this episode. Second, The Incredibles was awesome. 😊

Disney in Spanish? FB page is Russian? Episode in English? Wow, so multicultural.

21 minutes and two of those will be intro and credits? Sigh.

Who’s the villain again? Cuz this white dude seems like every villain in every movie ever.

Why is the mayor supervising the hotel? See? This is why the city is crumbling!

I don’t pity her because she signed up for that job. EVERYONE knows that’s how shity it is.

How French with all the kissing and lack of personal space.

Yo. Those posters make Jagged look more Jagged. That black shirt thing makes him look hot. Stop it with the 80’s clothes. Go simple and awesome.

I wish I had subtitles.

This show is about finding wives, right?

Fill my shoes?! What? That’s an entirely different show, and a bad name.

Only because he likes his adopted niece, Marinette. Also, those lace gloves are. . . (doesn’t want to say but can’t help it) delicately feminine.

I agree Sabine. I agree.

Every homemade show like this that has real like people, they always look and sound completely out of their element. That’s how you know they’re not actors. Also, Marinette, stop being such a fangirl.

She uses the same stress reliever I do. It’s pretty annoying during exams. It annoys even me. But it also calms me down.

When. . . when did he make … the guitar? And … how? He . . . sucks … at … baking….

There’s signal.

Also, I know Asian people can be smaller than average, but this is a joke.

Holy FUCK! I thought they were going to put on Careless Whisper for a second there!!!!

Sabine knows, Penny does the same shit as Marinette.

Who is Adrien excited to see? Jagged, or the croissants?

MARINETTE? NOOO. No way. Adrien -Just a friend- Agreste, did not just say that…

*sings* Juuuustt aaaa . . . . friiiiiieeeeeeennnnddddd!

TOM HAS GREEN EYES? Girls really do go for their fathers.

I paused, and fucking shit, that hair on Tom looks so real -the beard-.

Marinette’s clumsiness deserves an award. That was impressive. Minimal effort too. 9/10

Upstairs and vague? ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?

… What’s with her screen saver? Did she have her computer recording Adrien while they were playing video games? That background is her room. I know someone else said it, but these are badly recycled screencaps. That could have at least made plain backdrops and they would have been believable.

If Marinette spent as much time finding where HawkMoth is as she does with collecting Adrien, Paris would be safe.

Play “Spot Random Pictures of Nino”, is fun. Which brings the question, they made random pics of Nino and they couldn’t do that with Adrien?

Adrien is dabbing in one of them.

After a throughout analysis of the pictures in Mari’s room I’m making the theory that Snapchat exists in their world and Mari just screenshots and prints Adrien’s feed.

Penny is so uncomfortable …. So am I. I don’t want to press play.

Plagg, you little shit.

Wait, how big is that house?

HOW BIG IS THAT HOUSE, THAT THEY HAVE TO REUSE THE STAIR ANIMATION?

ANOTHER FLOOR?

It would have been hilarious if Jagged had been dressed in the dress he’s holding. “Here I am modeling a Marinette original. Am I better than this model boy? I am a better model, aren’t I?”

R E S P E C T. ‘You heard the lady.” Well done Penny.

At least no one made a comment about her period. Also, is completely fair and about time she fucking put them in their place.

HOW DOES GABRIEL RUN A COMPANY IF HE SPENDS MOST OF HIS TIME WAITING IN THAT ROOM FOR SOMETHING TO HAPPEN, SO HE CAN DRAMATICALLY OPEN HIS WINDOW AND BE BAD?

Anime background again. Attack on titan?

I hate to admit, but I would have had the same panic attack. Social media is a bitch.

From that angle her hairstyle looked completely different and Mari looked more Asian.

What a strange lighting, it changes her eye color drastically.

“Plus, its too late already. The show’s live.” *marinette panics and looks at the camera* SOMEONE MAKE A GIF OF THAT AND SEND IT TO ME, ASAP! THIS WILL BE ALL I TEXT FROM NOW ON.

Sabine is a tiger mom and I L O V E IT! Also, Tom appears to be slightly intimidated by the tiny tiger mom.

Sabine is the best mom in the world. Tiger mom, kung fu mom. Caring mom. What else? Ultimately the most B A D A S S MOM IN THE WORLD.

Does… all of Paris have that same security system from Gabriel’s mansion? If so, why was Gabriel so confused by Chat knowing that that mansion had a security system?

What are you talking about? It’s perfect. You are already at the scene of the crime.

Adrien… that was lame.

What if Plagg only likes croissants because it reminds him of Tikki cuz she lives there… I’ll leave that one there for you guys.

Chat… You’re lucky you’re cute.

NO WAY HE LANDED LIKE THAT.

Sometimes I forget he does call her Bugaboo, and that’s not a head cannon.

No. I love Bugabo-

…. What if that was Astruc asking the fans to stop calling her Bugaboo?

Huh? My cat senses are tingling!

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. Why is Ladybug offering Chat Noir a tour of Marinette’s room? Why is Ladybug so uncomfortable of anyone seeing the pictures? Shouldn’t that arouse Adrien’s suspicion?

When teens hide pictures under their bed is because they do a solo bow-chick-a-bow-wow with them. Marinette has hit puberty. I don’t judge.

*Double checks Mari’s ‘porn’ stash* Adrien boxes?

JESUS CHRIST! WHY ARE THERE SO MANY PICTURES? AND WHY ARE THEY HIDDEN?

Nope. Concussion.

No way she’s that fast. Is ladybug frozen?

*Careless whispers plays in the background as LB and CN hold hands*Fun fact, I actually sang it as it was happening. I don’t kid when I say these are things I say outloud as I watch them.

This is a cool shot. I like it. The focus thing? I like it.

How does he dream it? Does Adrien also write fanfiction about how it will happen? Is Adrien hidden amongst our fanfiction writers?

Are you kitten me, Chat? You are gonna judge her?

Hahahaha, Like a gun. That’s funny.

What detective movies do they watch?

So they glued her to Ladybug…. And they earrings too? Does that mean Marinette can never take them off now? Wouldn’t it be smart to also do that to Chat?

Penny: “What… what happened? Where’s Jagged?”

Ladybug: “What happened? You fucked up my room, my life, and almost my secret identity! That’s what happened?”

Chat and Penny: O.O

Ladybug: “…. I mean…. You’re always so helpful…~”

How… she… she’s gotta stay. A…. and he gotta go….

Chat: “You’re the girl of my dreams.”

Ladybug: . . . . fuck off *pushes him off the balcony*

Smooth LB, smooth.

He’s British right?

Now that! That sounds like real Paris. I like that background sound.

NILYA!

…. This . . .. this looks a lot like that little joke I wrote a few months back…..

Also, Adrien, your sneaky chat is showing.

Adrien looked mad at Mari interrupting him. Adrien, your chat is showing.

Ok. The animation of their eyebrows was soooo exaggerated that they looked angry when they are supposed to be like …. Concentrated, or confused. Make those eyebrows smaller.

THIS IS INTENSE! ADRIEN IS GETTING SMART . . . AND SASSY!!

JUST A FRIEND MY ASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS

HAHAHAHHAHAHAHHAHHA 8D I AM SO NOT PANICKING AT ALL!!! HAHAHAHAH -Marinette

Adrien your douche is showing.

Also, Adrien, shut up Chat noir. Adrien doesn’t know she hides them under her bed and sofa.

J U S T A F R I E N D

Mari’s boobs got bigger. Yes. I did notice. And if there is continuation to that I’ll accept it. She is in puberty.

Isn’t… isn’t that a parallel to another scene? It feels similar to the umbrella scene. The angles.

Tikki did us a favor of reminding us that Marinette is getting better at talking to Adrien. Thanks Tikki.

I just now realized the page I’m in is not facebook. But it looks like it.

----

I.... really like this episode. Ok , so here’s the deal. My brother got a microphone. If you guys want I can record these. Truth is, a lot of my commentary gets lost because of typing. I’m fast, but not THAT fast. I could try and do it like cinema sins. And it could help bring back the timestamps. Your call. :)

Thanks for reading.

#ml commentary #ml spoilers #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #miraculous ladybug and chat noir #marichat #marinette cheng #marinette and tikki #adrien #adrienette #ladrien #adrien x marinette #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug and chat noir #adventures of ladybug and chat noir #ladybug #LadyNoir

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mimiri22-6 · 4 years ago

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SANDERS ASIDES #2 GAY OR NAY!!! I’M FINALY DOING ONE OF THESE FOR TOMATHY!

(This is my third time watching the video, it’s really good)

These old man jokes are actually really funny to me for some reason

...Why is Virgl just me? Doing one thing and them immediately regretting doing that thing

‘Liar. Liar. Liar! Liar!! LIAR!!” Guys, your gonna start summoning Janus(not that I would m-)

I’m not even going to try and hear wtf Roman just said. like, I understand Shakespeare, but do not ask me what words mean what. I get the gist of what’s being said most of the time, but it’s a language I never want to look at again. ‘Cutie at 12 o’clock’ yeah, I understood that, but don’t ever freaking do that again, Roman

‘We don’t know if he’s not gay’ he’s got a point

‘He’s got some stickers on his laptop’...i really want to get stickers on my laptop, but the one I have now is pretty shitty and I want the stickers to have a nice home.

‘That’s a classic introverted method of talking about yourself without having to do anything too..extreme. Like talking.’ I do hate talking

When Roman starting clapping his hands in excitement? Pure serotonin. that was adorable and Roman needs to be happier more often

‘You’re a creep, you’re a weirdo-’ I see what you did there Thomas crew

‘I don’t want me to be doing this either’ Me talking to my ADD+Procrastination+Perfectionism=What’s homework? Never heard of her *screeches in constant panic cosplaying a pterodactyl*

That little ‘ready to stare’ pose when Virgil said ‘Go’ like a dog owner playing fetch was greatly adorable

Let’s see, we got Yu-Gi-Oh, Basketball....excuse me, Mr Nico Flores? Wtf is that third thing supposed to be???

‘Boiled Mayo Carrots’!?!?!??!!! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?!?!??!!!!? KEEP THAT ABOMINATION IN FLORIDA!!!!! FUCK NO!!! NO! THAT BETTER NOT BE A FUCKING THING OR I WILL KILL EVERYONE AND THEN MYSELF!

‘Go home and regret everything’ I agree. I wouldn’t even have the courage to do the kind of snooping Thomas is doing, I would have already left and said goodbye to a chance of, at least, a new friend

There’s a lot of talk of names in this episode...all directed toward Roman...

I am once again Virg! What Are ‘Gay Eyes’ !? Gebus. I can hardly tell what I’m feeling most of the time. and I avoid eye contact at all costs. I will never use that, nor ever notice anyone using those in my vicinity. I am a very dense person.

That one shot, where Nico turns around and you can see Thomas and CO. in the back? Most likely my favorite shot.

‘Ah nanana, I wasn’t testing you. I was just panicking.’...I’m starting to understand why people relate to Virgil so much...

‘You’re making a mistake’ ‘If I am I’ll add it to the list!’ Oh, Roman, you need to talk about something?

No. Don’t crawl into the trashcan...no.

‘That’s like cyber stalking, but real life’ ‘So stalking’ ‘...OH, YOU’RE RIGHT!’ Oh my god, they’re all idiots. Where’s Logan when you need him.

OH NO THERE’S GOING TO BE SOMEONE IN THE STALL!!! FUCK, SECOND HAND EMBARASMENT SUCKS SO FREAKING MUCH!!!

Back to the discussion of Thomas’ wants. And the way Roman’s and Virgil’s expressions change with certain sentences is slightly worrying

...Am I the only one that doesn’t understand looking at some stranger and immediately imagining marrying them? Is that just me? Cause I can’t imagine looking at someone I don’t know and just going ‘I’d marry that and live the rest of my life with that’ I just-it really doesn’t make any sense to me.

GOD FUCKING DAMN IT, THERE’S A PERSON IN THE STALL, I HATE THAT TROPE SO FUCKING MUCH! FUCK! NO! RUN FROM THIS SITUATION, THOMAS! I WOULD!

‘The lies.’ uh oh ‘You can’t have true love if the relationship isn’t built on truth’ tru ‘Will deceit continue to be the answer to all your problems?’ Well...you don’t have to call me out like this...

‘He’s better off without me’...I use that line a lot...definitely too much actually...

IS HIM! SAY SOMETHING, THOMAS!

‘He fears things, too?!’ Yes, Virgil, like most people...also same, I doubt other people feel fear, too.

‘What’d he say?!’ Once again, me in this situation

‘Yeah, super nosey, man. hahaha. *deep(very either dreamy or forgot to breath) sigh*’ I don’t know why, but that was an amazingly delivered line. Thomas is such a great actor in all mediums, and do not even try to say he’s not

‘There he goes’ NO YOU CAN STILL AT LEAST TRY TO SAY SOMETHING! C’MON BOIS, YOU CAN PULL IT OFF!

Gosh, Roman looks So Sad. AH! NO!

C’mon, Virg. Fight or flight. Fight.

ONCE AGAIN! THAT THING ABOUT THOMAS’ ACTING!? THAT PART WITH VIRGIL! PLUS THE AMAZING DRAWINGS!? PAERFECTLY PUT TOGETHER TO MAKE SOMETHING PERFECT!

(Also, once again, I would not have the courage to even approach anyone like this. Ah, to live without being a wuss about everything...)

Thomas is actually how i act when I’m coming clean about something. Just rambling on my explanation, probably saying a bit too much to get the point across. Well, like Thomas, but add several more sentences and a fast dwindling voice that abruptly shuts down

‘...or an aspect of their life feeling like a trash bin and the waste keeps piling and piling up until it inevitably spills out into the rest of their life’ O-oh ok, didn’t how much of this asides would be a callout post to me specifically, but ok.

‘Shut up!’ ‘Shut up.’ ‘Shut UP!’ They’re adorable

This asides said Prinxiety rights

It was nice to see at least someone pop up this episode

Janus?! Oh ok-JANUS!?!

Eh! AH! OH NO! AAAAAHHH!!!! I NEED IT! BUT I DON’T HAVE ANY KIND OF MONEY NOW WILL I ANYTIME SOON! I HAVE LIKE 100$ TO MY NAME AND THAT’S CHRISTMAS GIFTS! IF I HAD A WAY I WOULD BUT I CAN’T AND I AM BUT A CHILD IN AN ADULT WORLD, I WOULD GIVE ALL I CAN IF I COULD, BUT ALAS I CAN NOT! NNNOOOOOOO!!!!!!!(but also thank god I don’t because my wallet would be barren between Vivziepop, Unus Annus, Jacksepticeye, Cloak, Top of the Morning Coffee, and Thomas...I would be living in a box with only merch to my name...)

After Credits Scene!~~~

That edit, with all of them walking into the house! I can only dream of doing that! like, I have an idea of how that was made, but it will always be spectacular to me

PAUSE! OH MY FUCKING GOD! IS THAT SPARKALING PURPLE EYESHADOW! VIRG IS LOOKING FABULOUS! HOLY SHIT I LOVE THAT ON HIM!(also wasn’t there a tumblr post flying around with that idea as a joke? the one where Virg is doing his black eyeshadow saying something about hiding his eyebags and Roman’s like ‘ I have a better way of doing that’ and then it’s just Virgil with glitter under his eyes. That wasn’t my imagination, because I’m too smooth brain for that)

‘I’m gonna need you to, like, walk around the entire expanse of the room, in like a frenzy, thank you so much, yes, that helps somehow’ It is weird how that helps alot

‘Huh, delete it.’ Wow! I only just realized that Virgil’s eyeshadow is black there. it went by so fast the last times that I didn’t notice.

‘I know right!’ Oh My God He’s So Cute Like This! He’s So HAPPY! PATTON, YOU NEED TO SEE YOUR SON LIKE THIS, IT’S FULFILLING!

‘I found a Michelin star restaurant, it’s in France’ ‘I’m listening’ just two idiots working together in the name of love(I accidently just referenced a song...I’m proud of myself for that)

‘I’m gonna need you to shake your hands, alright, you gotta do something with them, they’re just hanging there’ A whole mood.

‘Are we ready for this?’ Oh No! Virgil’s sad again! Stop worrying him! let him live his life!

‘AH, DEMON!’ also a mood

‘Don’t tell me to relax!’ he is literally Anxiety, c’mon Ro.

Anyway, loved that. Now I will either rewatch Bee and Puppycat, again, all the way through, so I can finally update my season 2 review, yes there is a season 2 and it is AMAZING, or i will end up rewatching the previous TSS episode, again, idk how many times I’ve done that...I will most likely do the latter because I can never get enough comfort Thomas content. And Then maybe watch B and Puppycat again, because I really need to.

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queen-of-deans-booty · 7 years ago

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In My Time of Dying- Part 1

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,558

Warnings: Typical Supernatural violence, angst, language, blood, you know the usual, panic attacks

Author’s Note: Out of Season 2, this is one of my favorites to write. This is angsty as hell but it’s worth it. I would love to hear what you think about it. Anything you thought would be really appreciated.

I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. Please, if you want to be tagged for this series, let me know and I’ll add you! If you want to be tagged for my other fics, I’ll add you! I want to hear what you guys think about this. If you want something requested, send it in!

Feedback is always appreciated

Tags at the bottom

“Dean, where are you taking me?” You giggled, taking his hands in yours.

“Don’t you know the whole deal around a surprise?” He smirked, leading you somewhere that was in the woods. You trusted him though. You felt safe with him. He was your rock and you loved him.

“Fine but if we end up being chased by a monster, I’m leaving your ass.” You giggled, following.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, with me, you’ll always be safe.” Dean gave you a panty dropping smile.

The crash had injured you even more than you already were. You had no idea the state you were in much less the state Dean, Sam, John or even Baby was in. You didn’t realize the seriousness of the situation.

You were unconscious, unaware that you were slowly dying.

Even through this mental state, you heard voices. Voices that were asking you to open your eyes and to please be awake. You wanted to open and to tell them you were alright but your body didn’t want to. You wanted to be able to see Dean’s smile one more time but your eyes didn’t want to open.

You couldn’t remember much, just that the demon you’ve been hunting for a year decided it wanted you dead. Why did it want you dead? What plan did it have for Sam that you were messing up? What was going on?

It was like you were sitting on a chair, in the back of your dark mind, just waiting to be released. You couldn’t get up, you couldn’t speak; all you could do was stare and wait for something to happen. You felt your body being moved and sirens all around but you couldn’t wake up.

You heard Sam call for you to wake up but that is when you slipped back into your mind, free of any pain.

You groaned as you opened your eyes, a white light blinding you. You tossed your head to the side but that was a mistake considering it was throbbing. You opened your eyes and began panicking. Where the hell was Dean?

“Thank God, you’re awake.” You turned your head to see Sam there with a black eye and some cuts. He looked like shit but he was up and walking. He did have on his regular clothing and you needed to get up.

“Where’s Dean…” You said, breathing faster.

“Y/N… He…” The look on Sam’s face wasn’t good at all.

“No, no, Sam, please tell me he’s awake. Sam, please tell me he’s awake! I have to go see him.” You got up despite your body wanting too. You felt the pressure inside of you begging to be boiled over but you wouldn’t let it. You needed to see Dean. You needed to know he was okay.

“Y/N, lay back down. You’re hurt.” Sam said, trying to get you to lay down.

“No! Bring me to Dean or I’m going myself!” You yelled at him. He sighed and since there was nothing he could do to stop you, he helped you up and led you to the room Dean was in. You stopped dead in your tracks at what you saw.

Dean was hooked up to all these machines with tubes down his mouth for breathing support.

“No, Dean!” You cried, walking to him on your own.

Dean was in the room, watching you inch towards him. He had no idea what was going on but he needed to wake up.

“Dean, you gotta wake up.” You cried, touching his hand.

Dean felt a touch on his hand. It tingled as you kept in contact with you. He needed to get back to you.

“Dean!” You sobbed, shaking his shoulder. “Sam, he needs to be awake! I can’t live without him.” Your heart broke and you fell to your knees, sobbing in your hands.

“Y/N, come on, my dad is awake.” Sam helped you up to your feet.

“No! I need Dean to be awake!” You yelled, looking at Dean and trying to get away from Sam.

“Sweetheart, I will wake up. I will come back to you.” Dean said, his heart breaking at the sight of you.

“Y/N, he needs to rest.” Sam said, getting tears. He couldn’t look at his brother. Dean couldn’t be dead. He needed him.

You needed him.

“Your father's awake. You can go see him if you like.” A doctor said, entering the room.

“Fix him right now! Do something! He can’t die!” You raised your voice, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“Well, he sustained serious injury: blood loss, contusions to his liver and kidney. But it's the head trauma I'm worried about. There's early signs of cerebral edema…” The doctor trailed off.

“What the fuck does that mean? Can you heal him?” You glared at the doctor. You weren’t mad at him, you weren’t mad at Dean. You were just angry that he wasn’t waking up.

“Well, we can’t do anything or know his full condition until he wakes up. If he wakes up.” The doctor winced at his choice of words.

“If? No, he will wake up.” You glared at the doctor. If only looks could kill.

“Please, can’t you guys hear me! I’m right here! I’m okay!” Dean yelled, trying to get your attention.

“I have to be honest, most people with this degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long. He's fighting very hard. But you need to have realistic expectations.”

“Realistic expectations my ass. You better hope he wakes up because I will kick your ass so hard, you’ll feel me for days. Do I make myself clear?” You threatened the doctor. Sam apologized to the doctor and led you out of the room.

“That’s my girl.” Dean smiled softly. He followed you and Sam to his father’s room where John was in a sling. It looked like John wasn’t going anywhere for a while and neither was Dean.

“Y/N, Sam, it’s good to see you.” John smiled weakly.

“Take it easy, dad.” Sam said softly.

“Where the fuck are my clothes? I need to get out of this damn hospital.” You didn’t want to see John or even Sam. You needed to be alone. You scoffed and walked out of the room, walking back to yours. Your body was sore and it hurt but you didn’t want to be here anymore.

“Sweetheart, stop before you give yourself more injuries.” Dean said, following you into your room.

You began changing into your blood soaked clothes. You didn’t like them but they would do since you didn’t want to be in a hospital gown where half of your ass shows. You were crying, thinking of all the ways this could have gone wrong. You were crying, thinking that you’ll never see Dean again.

Dean sighed as he made your way to you, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

You gasped, feeling something touch your cheek. You knew it was Dean, somehow but he wasn’t in the room. If he wasn’t in the room, then he was a spirit. If he was a spirit, he was dead.

“No, Dean, please come back to me.” You started to sob loudly, sitting on your bed. Your heart was breaking and you didn’t know how to handle this. Lights started flickering in your room and the shutters on the window started moving up and down.

You looked around, feeling that pressure from before, boiling over. It was like when Dean was around you, you could keep that pressure under control but now that he’s gone, it was crazy. You sobbed loudly, one things falling off the shelf in the room, crashing to the ground.

“You need to calm down. I am right here. Please, hear me.” Dean pleaded. He hated seeing you in so much pain.

“Y/N! Stop!” You heard Sam say from the door. You were now full on sobbing, things crashing to the ground because of how much energy was pouring out of you.

“Sam, it hurts. I can’t. I need Dean with me.” You cried, looking at the younger sibling.

“We’ll get him back. My dad wants us to see Bobby. Do you want to come with me?” Sam asked, putting a hand on your shoulder for comfort.

“Yeah, go out and see your father. Make sure my car is decent. I’ll even let you help fix her up. Just go outside and get away from here.” Dean said, watching the things fall off the shelves.

“Sam, I yelled at him before I left. He’s not going to want to see me. I’m the world’s worst daughter. To John and to Bobby.” You hiccupped, tears still rolling down your cheeks.

“I’m sure he’ll forgive you. Just come with me. We need to get out of here.” Sam rubbed circles onto your back and that seemed to calm you. Maybe some fresh air would help. Soon, the shutters stopped moving and the lights stopped flickering.

You felt the pressure die down a bit and you nodded, standing up.

“You’re right.” You said, feeling numb. It was like you couldn’t feel anything for anything anymore. Your brain immediately started to shut out Dean for the most part. It was the only way you would survive.

“See you soon, sweetheart.” Dean said, watching his brother take you away from this hospital.

Forever and ever:

@maddieburcham1 @ginamsmith @mogaruke @whit85-blog @inlovewithbja @spn67-sister @kdfrqqg @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @roxyspearing @supercalifragilistic26 @mishamigose @cobrakai1967 @essie1876 @innernightwerewolf @wishedworld @justanotherdeangirl @crispychrissy @laqueus-ludovicus @nostalgic-uncertainty @jerk-bitch-and-an-angel @potterhead1265 @starswirlblitz @untitled39887 @ta-n-ja @deans-fallen-angel-boy @scarletluvscas @notnaturalanahi

Series Rewrite Junkies:

@helllonearth @amyisabellal @deanwnchstr @caseykitten6 @roxalya19 @quixoticcat @supernaturalblogging @notmoose45 @crowleysminion @mina22 @tahbehonest @spn-applepie-imagines @hadleymcallister2177 @destielsangels @spnhybrid

Dean Beans:

@akshi8278 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @winchesterandpie @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spn-applepie-imagines @tahbehonest @carribear31 @tacklesackles

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illuminatingfear · 7 years ago

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trying to get control of my life back

i drank a gallon of water yesterday... and i’ma try to do that in general. it’s gonna fix a bunch of problems even a tiny bit.

such a simple thing. i’m trying to push myself to do a large number of simple things to make me feel happier and more in control. since i’m not going to die, I’ve at least gotta try. i’m in better health mentally, so i CAN try; i’m not dissociating at an intensely high volume anymore, and I’m learning to power through/i’m panicking less when I realize it’s happening... and it’s happening at least once a day, but that’s way better than 24/7. i have some lucidity, even if brain fog is still there. the clearest my mind felt was the week I was off the SSRI i was taking for years (sans withdrawal symptoms)... which was crazy. the depression and panic snuck themselves back in (how kind) and offered cloud cover... so I know that it’s possible to feel... NOT like this, to feel better. Dunno if it will ever happen, but I’m at a place mentally where I can do things I couldn’t before, so I’m chipping away at all sorts of projects,including:

-physical health (taking meds, drinking the gallon of water, trying to be a little more active, eating more aggressively aka more than 0-1 times a day) -organization and mental health (including looking for therapist) -paintings -my music -working on website/self-promotion -recording drums/content for groups -financial stuff/independance stuff in general/credit -digital art -eventually facilitating progress of giving things away -constantly talking to people to advice about the current situation i’m in it’s not perfect and doesn’t list everything I’ve been doing, but it’s more than I was able to do before, and I know this will stack up. Eventually, I’ll have an album out, with a working website, that I can point people to so they can sign up for commissions. by that time, I’ll hopefully have a therapist, have rides to psych doc, have paintings out that I want to get out, have healthcare shit squared away, have learned more cooking, perhaps even a patreon/source of income! perhaps even some happiness/excitement in my life! (don’t get me wrong; music and art are different kinds of happiness than what I mean; more personal and deep, when I’m meaning social/gigs/jams and surface-level stuff)

I also am becoming stacked with coping tools on my phone, making sure I have something for every situation. Here’s what I have: I have the apps Google Keep for notes, Daylio for check-ins re: mood and mental health, Calm for breathing in panic attacks, Sleepio for nature/rain ambient noises where you can listen to 8 different sounds at a time and you can mix them all to your preference which is SUPER great for me. Games help with panic, like I Love Hue which is engaging (esp when combined with Sleepio), Animal Crossing Pocket Camp which is very rewarding and calming and cute, and then one of my all-time favourites, Kingdom Rush, for when I need to be engaged heavily to divert a bad episode and i’m not dissociating. I need to be my own advocate. I’m too passive for my own good, and I know where that comes from and where that bites me in the ass. it was so easy, when I had no control of brain problems (I mean, I still don’t but it’s better), to give up and let the shitty situation I’m in run all over me. Now I’ve taken a lot of steps (that I can) to ensure my privacy in small ways. The small stuff really adds up. I’m trying to charge ahead after a year of giving up due to so much fucking loss and grief and succumbing of abusive situations. But I can do things. I do have power and control - not 100%, yet, but I can do some things.

#recovery #dissociation #bpd #depression #panic #panic disorder #health #mental health #ptsd #ocd

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aceb133 · 7 years ago

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Wholesome Week 2, Day 4: Roll for Initiative

Because what’s more wholesome than D&D?

Long-ish story below!

With a weary sigh of resignation, Marco knew it was the end.

He’d done everything he could to prepare for this moment. He’d learned to wield a sword and hold a shield. He’d spent a lifetime honing his abilities and his reflexes. He’d recruited followers and allies. And he’d even considered multi-classing into Monk.

But, as he watched the die roll across the table, he knew none of that mattered now.

“A two!” Alfonso shouted, raising his arms in triumph. “You fail to dodge the dragon’s powerful flame breath! In an instant, you are incinerated to a crisp, your burned armor serving as a warning to future adventurers to come.”

“Ah, lame!” Ferguson said, collapsing in his seat. “Marco, dude, I told you that your character needed more dex.”

“Well it’s not like that would’ve done anything when I can’t roll anything higher than a ten!” Marco said. “That lousy die has been trying to kill me all night!”

“And at last, it has succeeded.” Alfonso said sagely.

Marco groaned, and leaned back in his seat. He’d spent two weeks coming up with this character, writing an elaborate backstory, coming up with an ideal level progression, and even scoping the internet for a cool character portrait. It was supposed to be his marquee character, the one he’d reminisce about in the decades to come. And his reward for all that work, of course, was managing to get killed in the first encounter of Alfonso’s new campaign.

Staring at the ceiling, he could do nothing but shake his head. Frankly, he should have seen it coming.

“Well Ferguson,” Alfonso said, “I believe you have initiative.”

Ferguson picked up a die, and contemplated it for a moment. “Well, with my comrade in arms deceased, I have no other choice. I cast Magic Miss-“

Suddenly, the door burst open, and Marco twisted his head. To his surprise, Star, Jackie, and Janna walked in, each one sharing identical looks of disgust.

“Star! Jackie!” Marco said, standing up in a panic. “I thought you guys went to the movies!”

“We did.” Janna said. “The sewer line underneath the theater blew just before the opening credits. There was… urgh, I don’t even want to talk about it.”

“That sounds incredibly gross.” Ferguson said. “Say, did you bring any popcorn back?”

Star ignored him, and walked over to where the trio was sitting. “Marco, you didn’t tell me you were playing a game tonight,” she said, looking over the piles of rulebooks, character sheets, graphing paper, and dice. “Or… is this a game? I see dice, but I don’t see a board anywhere.”

Jackie followed close behind, and Marco caught a flare of recognition in her eyes. “Oh dude, is this D&D? I’ve always wanted to play that!”

“Wait, you want to-I mean, really?” Marco said, caught in the transition between embarrassment and relief.

“Yeah, we used to play every week.” Ferguson said proudly. “I had a level fourteen warlock, myself. He could kill a man with a stare.”

“Used to?” Janna asked, leaning against the wall. “What made you stop?”

Alfonso shrugged. “Oh, you know, school and stuff. And plus, Marco started hanging out with Star a lot more, so we couldn’t find time to play.”

“Marco, you should have told me!” Star said, her voice laced with concern. “I’m so sorry I broke up your alphabet game!”

Marco shook his head. “Nah, Star, don’t worry about it,” he said. “It’s not your fault, it just kinda happened.”

“I have got to make it up to you, though!” Star said. “Are you playing now? Could I join?”

Marco turned to Alfonso and Ferguson, who both shrugged.

“It’s not like the campaign’s going anywhere now, what with you being dead and all.” Ferguson said.

“Plus, I do have a one-shot I’ve been wanting to run.” Alfonso added.

Marco smiled. “Well, I guess that’s a-“

“YES!” Star said, hopping over a chair and sitting down at the table. Quickly, she turned back to Jackie and Janna and waved them over. “Come on! Let’s all play, it’ll be fun!”

“Oh man, totally!” Jackie said, and walked over to sit next to Marco. Janna merely shrugged, but pushed herself off the wall, grabbed a chair, and sat down next to Star.

As the players shuffled to make room around the table, Star looked down and closely examined the array of playing materials before her.

“So, how does this work?” she asked, picking up Marco’s twenty-sided die.

“Well first, you gotta make a character.” Ferguson said. “I’m Fergon the Wise, an elvish mage from the lost city of Gracemeria, who seeks to restore the lost Talisman of Estovakia.”

Star’s eyes twinkled at Ferguson’s description of his character. “Wow”, she said, “That sounds so cool! How do I make a character?”

“Well first, you have to roll for your ability scores.” Alfonso began.

“Uh-huh.”

“Then, you have to pick your race. Each race gives you a modifier to your ability score, and some have special abilities.”

“Okay,”

“Then, you pick your class, which, depending on your level, determines your base attack bonus, your fort, reflex, and will saves, and your abilities available at each level.”

“Yeah…”

“It also tells you how much health you have, and how many skill points you get per level. A druid, for example, gets four plus your intelligence modifier, multiplied by four.”

All of the enthusiasm had drained from Star’s face, and she looked as though she was only moments away from falling asleep on the table. “Urgh, this sounds like math. Aren’t games supposed to be fun?”

Marco shrugged apologetically. “I mean, there’s a bit of math, but it’s really not hard. And plus, when you’re actually playing the game, it’s a lot of fun!”

Reaching across the table, he picked up a copy of the player’s handbook, and began to open it. “Here, I can help you-“

Star smiled, and stood up. “No thanks, Marco, I’ve got a better idea.” She then pulled out her wand, and Marco’s eyes grew as wide as dinner plates.

“Star-“

Star pointed it at the player’s handbook Marco held in his hands, and wand began to crackle and glow with magic energy.

“STAR NO-“

“Mystical Game Adventure Transform!” Star shouted. For an instant, nothing happened-and then, the entire room vanished in a brilliant flash of light.

----------

Marco groaned as he slowly returned to consciousness. His head was pounding, and his body was sore. As he struggled to open his eyes, he scoured his groggy brain for any memory of what had just happened. The last thing he remembered was Star casting some kind of spell-but everything after that was darkness.

As he opened his eyes, he was instantly blinded by the sun above him. Instinctively, he reached out his hand to shield his eyes-and suddenly, noticed his hand was covered by an armored gauntlet.

Jolted to full consciousness by the sight, Marco scrambled to sit up, and looked down at himself. His body was fully covered in a combination of leather armor, metal plate, and chainmail, and on the ground next to him was a long, steel sword.

“Oh Star, what did you do this time?” Marco said aloud, and startled himself with the sound of his own voice-far deeper and rougher than it had been only a few minutes prior.

Slowly, Marco stood up, examining himself. Right away, he noticed that he was at least a foot and a half taller than he’d been previously, and his face was covered in a short, rough beard. He could feel new muscles bulging against his armor in his arms and chest, and the armor itself-though obviously heavy-hardly felt like it weighed him down at all.

Leaning down, Marco picked up the sword, and examined it closely. It was a straight, double-edged blade, with a series of elaborate runes engraved down its length. Near the base, an elaborate portrait of a dragon had carefully been carved from the metal, its talons poised and ready to strike.

Marco stared. He knew exactly what this sword was-The Dragon’s Tooth, a two-hundred year old artifact passed down over generations from father to son. And, as a +2 Flaming Longsword he’d come up with for his D&D character, the only place it should’ve existed was in Marco’s imagination.

Panicking, Marco looked around frantically, searching for any sign of Star or his other friends. He appeared to be in some kind of swamp, a dank, murky area filled with the sight and sound of thousands of flying insects, chirping birds, croaking frogs, and other unseen creatures.

“Hello?” he said, looking around desperately. “Star? Jackie? Ferg?”

Suddenly, he heard a high-pitched scream coming from behind him. Clutching his sword, Marco turned and raced through the brush, his eyes darting all around as he searched for the source of the noise.

Then, as he emerged into a clearing that was little more than a raised patch of damp, black dirt that rose above the fetid swamp waters around it, he stopped. Backed up against an ancient willow tree was what appeared to be a fat old elf, with a tall cap as pointy as his ears and a long, wooden staff lying beside him. Marco noticed that the elf hadn’t noticed him approach, and seemed obsessed with marveling over his own long, white beard.

Marco approached cautiously, his sword at the ready. “Ferguson? Is that you?”

The elf turned, and beneath the wrinkles and whispers Marco could easily see the contours of his friend’s face. “Marco! Is that you?” Slowly, the elf got up, brushing the dirt and filth off his long, threadbare robe. “You look awesome!”

“Thanks,” Marco said. “You look… uh…”

“Awesome too, right?” Ferguson boasted. “Just check out this beard! And that hat! I’m like some kind of wizard!”

“I think you are a wizard, Ferg.” Marco said. “Star’s spell must have somehow turned us into our characters in Al’s game.” He looked around the swamp, searching for any sign of recognizable landscape. “Though I certainly don’t remember this area. We ever go to some kind of swamp?”

“I do not believe we have.” Ferguson said, shrugging. “Maybe we’re in that one-shot he kept talking about running?”

“Maybe.” Marco said. “Do you remember what-Ferg, look out!”

Shocked, Ferguson spun around, and saw something emerging from the bog behind him. Slowly, a rotting head began to emerge from the muck, followed quickly by a set of withered arms and an emaciated torso. The mere sight of the rotting corpse sent a wave of nausea through Marco, and he staggered back at the horrific apparition.

“WHAT IS THAT THING?” Ferguson shouted, hiding behind Marco.

“I don’t know, it must be some kind of ghoul or something!” Marco replied. The creature was now freeing its legs from the muck, and its dead, rotting eyes were locked on to Marco. As it took its first step forward, its jaw dropped open, and it unleashed an unearthly howl.

This was more than enough for Marco. Shouting incoherently, he lunged forward with his sword, swinging it into the creature with all his might. As the tip of the blade cut across the creature’s chest, a ribbon of flame curled out from the wound, and the creature staggered back, howling with pain as its chest caught alight. Immediately, Marco swung again, and this time the blade cut straight through the creature’s festering neck. The flaming body dropped to the ground as the head went flying back into the swamp, landing in a nearby pool with a deep sploosh.

Breathing heavily, Marco stood there for a moment, not quite believing what he had done. Then, Ferguson ran up from behind him, and patted him on the back.

“Dude, that was so awesome!” Ferguson said. “You were like ‘slice’, and that monster was like, ‘bleagh’, and you were-“

“Ferg, hold it.” Marco said. Looking around the swamp, he could see bubbles rising from the waters around them, and dark shapes beginning to emerge from below. “I don’t think it’s over yet.”

Marco raised his sword, and scanned the area around them, just waiting for the first monster to make its move. “Which, Ferg, what spells do you have prepared?”

“Spells?” Ferguson said, momentarily confused. “Oh, spells! Well, I should have, uh… oh shoot, where’s my character sheet…”

“Seriously? You can’t even remember what spells you have?” Marco shouted. Heads were already beginning to pop out from the waters below, and Marco knew there was no way he could take on that many monsters by himself.

“Dude, I’m sorry, I can’t perform under this kind of pressure!” Ferguson shouted back.

Marco groaned, and took up a defensive stance, his eyes darting across the swamp. These ghouls were emerging more quickly than the last, and the first of them were already beginning to stagger ashore.

Suddenly, Ferguson snapped his fingers. “Wait! I know what I’ve got!” Grabbing his staff from the ground, he confidently pointed it at the nearest creature and bellowed with a powerful voice, “I cast magic missile!”

A small part of Marco didn’t expect anything to happen-but his fears were quickly dashed when a red ball of energy burst out from the staff and exploded against a ghoul’s chest. With a ragged roar of pain, the ghoul collapsed backwards into the swamp, quickly sinking back below the surface.

Ferguson whooped, and raised his staff. “Yeah, take that you monster!”

“It’s not over yet!” Marco shouted, and turned to see a pair of ghouls approaching from his left. Running forward, he slashed his sword at the first ghoul, keeping a firm clutch on the grip with both hands. The edge bit deeply into the monster’s arm, spraying both Marco and his opponent with a stream of black, congealed blood. Before Marco could attack again, the other ghoul shuffled up and swiped at him, raking his chest with a set of wicked, curved claws. Marco gasped with pain as the sharp claws cut through his leather armor and into his chest, leaving a series of painful, bloody streaks.

Stepping back, Marco slashed again with his sword, striking against the first ghoul’s leg. With a groan, the ghoul fell to the ground, flailing slowly. Then, sidestepping the other monster’s next attack, he slammed the pommel of his blade into the back of the creature’s head, sending it crashing to the ground Before it could react, Marco flipped his sword and stabbed it downwards, plunging it directly into the undead monster’s brain. The creature shuddered once, and exhaled a shallow, rasping breath, and died.

Looking up, Marco saw Ferguson continuing to blast ghouls emerging from the swamp, sending them crashing back into the water. But Marco knew there was only so much they could do by themselves-there were dozens more creatures emerging from the swamp, and it was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed.

Suddenly, a massive impact against his back sent Marco crashing to the ground. Rolling over, he saw another ghoul standing over him, its mouth open and dripping putrid saliva. Before Marco could react to the new threat, however, the ghoul’s head was severed from its body. As it collapsed to the ground, the headless corpse revealed the form of what could only be Star Butterfly standing behind it. She looked older and stouter than she typically did, and the few parts of her body that weren’t covered in massive animal skins were adorned with tattoos and scars. In her rough, calloused hands, she held a massive battleaxe, and she growled ferociously as she spied the oncoming horde of ghouls before her.

Marco propped himself up on his elbows, hardly believing what he was seeing. “Star?”

“Marco?” Star said, confused. It took a moment for her to recognize the man on the ground in front of her, but the second she did her face broke into a massive, toothy grin. “Marco! You look… different.”

“Thanks.” Marco said, and raised his hand. Star grabbed it, and Marco winced as his hand was crushed in her powerful grip. She quickly pulled him to his feet

quickly pulled him up, nearly ripping his arm out of its socket and crushing his hand in her powerful grip. “You look-“

“Ripped, right?” Star said proudly. “Man, I don’t know what kind of game this is Marco, but it’s pretty fun so-duck!”

Marco instinctively dipped his head down only moments before a pale, fetid arm swung above it, swiping through his hair. Turning back and raising his sword to face the ghoul, Marco dashed forward and stabbed the creature in the chest, setting it aflame. Raising his boot, he kicked the creature in the stomach, freeing his sword and sending the ghoul crashing to the ground.

“Sick move, Marco!” Turning again, Marco saw Janna and Jackie approaching, their own weapons raised. Jackie was clearly a ranger of some kind, clad in a dark-green tunic and holding a pair of short swords in her hands, with a longbow strung across her back. Like Ferguson, she had pointed ears, though they didn’t seem quite as pointy or as prominent. Janna, meanwhile, looked about the same as she always did, with the exception of the pair of curved daggers she held in her hands.

“Oh, uh, thanks, Jackie!” Marco said awkwardly.

Star elbowed him in the arm, grinning. “Hey, save some for the rest of us, huh?”

“GUYS? A LITTLE HELP?”

Looking up, Marco saw Ferguson backing up nervously, facing down a half-dozen ghouls that were lurching towards him. Turning back to Star, Janna, and Jackie, Marco smiled, and raised his sword.

“Alright guys,” he said, “Let’s play some D&D!”

#wholesomeweek2 #star vs the forces of evil #svtfoe #dungeons and dragons #D&D #fast writing bad writing #fanfic #man it's been too long since I've played a good ol' game of D&D #Marco Diaz

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