#every day i put on my little jester shoes | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

goddess-of-bubblegum · 3 months ago

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~your court jester~ leo x daughter of zeus!reader !medieval AU!

(I did the chap!!)

You were a child of Zeus, king of Olympia who was married to Queen hera, which whom he had triplets with, Jason, Thalia and you, with you being the youngest

Today was the day a ball was being held, where you could see your cousins and friends. You knew for certain that king posidon and qeen amphridite of atlantia would be there, along with his children; prince percy and tyson and king Hades and queen Persephone of Elysia and their children nico and hazel would be there too, but it wasn't them you were exited about.

Nor was it lady athena , the war-rstrategist with her children, and it wasn't lord Ares (war commander) or anyone else of the sort.

In fact, it wasn't even a noble person at all!

It was leo , the child of the palaces blacksmith. You felt a familiar flutter in your stomach as you thought of him, but you knew your mother and father would have your head on a platter if they ever knew.

They wanted you to marry a nobleman (or woman), or atleast someone in a position of power, not some pesant child of the palaces blacksmith! Alas, they found you weren't happy with any of the suitors they showed you, but hope was (unfortunately) not lost for them.

》I just don't understand it piper!《 you grunted as she pulled the corset strings tighter, the handmaiden child of Aphrodite, the tailor for the royals hanging on your every word.

》what is it that you don't understand, m'lady《 you blinked and pushed some of her styled hair out of her face

》no need to call me that and I just....I dont know why I'm not falling for any nobles! I mean, there's percy, who looks like a God, hazel who looks stunning, and even from the people who aren't nobles who my parents would approve of, like lady annabeth, aren't that interesting!《

》well, I know you've been looking at the court jester, leo, you do know he's a close friend of mine, Right?《

she finished adjusting your cosetband moved on to fixing your gown

》plus, prince nicholas-《

》He preffers to be called nico《 you interrupt

》Prince nico is dating the local bard, William, and his parents seem to approve 《

You sigh as you push another strand of hair away from your [e/c] eyes 》well yes, but bard and jester are two different things! And Williams father is a well respected bard, Leo's dad is the blacksmith of the palace who is highly unliked for his looks, not that leo inherited any, of course! But Apollon the bard does have strong ties with King Hades, so of course nico dates him! Whereas my mother and father both hate hephastios the weaponmaker《

Piper sighs, mildly exasperated with how dramatic you were 》well who are they going to introduce you to next, a guard?《 she makes an attempt at a joke, trying to lighten the mood

》not too far off, actually, you know the soldier lityerses? The child of lady demeter?《 you sigh and try not to ruin your make-up by face-palming

》oooh, he's a catch! But I must say I prefer shel...《 Piper thought fondly of the village baker-girl, with whom she was absolutely smitten with

》ya know, sometimes I wish I was a commoner.....then it wouldn't matter who I'd married....《

Piper looked at you with pity in her eyes, before subtly looking at the window, seeming to say I told you so to leo with her eyes, who was standing outside the window all along

☆le time Skippy because idk what else to put here☆

You tapped the heel of your shoe against the floor at random intervals while playing with with a strand of your hair, your cousins have already arrived, that's not what you were nervous about, but it was now time to "entertain" the royals , which means you would see leo, the favorited court jester

》M-mother?-《 your tried to hide just how much your voice trembled, which your mother always found endearing

》w-when are the entertainers coming?《

》in a bit, my little peafowl, leodinaidas (i-i.....I butchered that, didn't I?) being the first to arrive 《

》o-okay....《 you sighed and looked out the window, seeing Piper laughing and cuddling with shel, and sighed wistfully You werent at all joking when you said you'd love to live a commoners life, close to no responsibilities, not having to deal with potential suitors and being able to love who you wanted to love.

Nico and will were on your right, and were laughing at something, will was nicos personal medic and bard, and they were dating which is parents did accept as will and his father were high in status.

He could date him without problems.

But you couldn't date leo

Speaking of-

You blushed hard the moment you saw leo enter the ballroom. 》my ladies, lords and lieges! It is I, leodinaidas the court jester! But you can call me leo , and pretty people can call me love~《

zeus chuckled at that, while hera rolled her eyesYou blushed and quickly looked away, gods why is he like this...... he continued with his jester bit, making jokes and making fun of everything

Eventually, his act died down and will started playing music for people to dance to, [I mean, they were in a ballroom] and you were just standing awkwardly on sidelines, watching your siblings and cousins dance with their partners.You sighed sadly and were deep in thought , only being pulled out when someone tapped your shoulder.

》huh?《 you looked behind you, not seeing anyone, before you felt someone take your hand in theirs 》hello gorgeous-《

You looked infromt of you, and flushed red immediately Infront of you was, who else would it be, leo

》l-leo?!《 you breathed out

》Hi gorgeous~ would you indulge me , a humble jester, in a dance with a stunning woman like you?《 You smiled nervously and looked over to where your sister, Thalia, was standing, who was grinning and giving you a thumbs up, zeus smirking and rolling his eyes as he looks at the both of you

》y-yeah s-sure......《 you tripped over your own words

He smiled and led you out to the dance floor, putting one hand on your shoulder and the other on your waist, starting to dance a slow waltz with you

You smiled and let him lead your moves, smiling widely for the first time in a whileAfter a while of dancing, you tripped and almost fell down, if it weren't for leo catching you bending down to your level, his lips only inches from yours.You blushed and leaned closer into his lips, only a breath away from touching his lips, so close you could almost count every single freckle on his face.

》may I?-.....《 he breathes out

You nod and inched closer to him, feeling butterfly's in your stomach as his lips touch yours, him kissing you being the best feeling you've felt for a while After a minute that felt like far more than that, he pulled away and leaned his forehead against yours

》Pipes told me You had a crush on me.....and I thank whatever force is pulling us together because I never thought my feelings would be reciprocated.....I love you《

And without thinking of potential consequences and pushing any judgement from your parents , the words fell out of your mouth 》I love you too《

@bast-the-best26 @reyna4ever @deciduowl

#percy jackson #pjo fanfic #pjo x reader #pjo hoo toa

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caxycreations · 3 months ago

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🍓 Author Ask tag 🍓

Thank you for the tag! @phynewrites <3

Some fantastic questions ^-^

I tag @that-one-enby-onyx @verba-writing @mikathewriter @akiwitch and @dreaminggoblin

Your questions are:

Which OC has the Jester's Privilege (google it if you aren't sure <3)

How long have you been writing your most recent WIP?

Other than your WIPs, what creative hobbies do you have?

Which character do you like the least from all your works?

If your WIP were to be considered the "inventor" of a new trope, which trope do you think that would be?

When the Writer's Block Fairy hits, do you hit back or do you let it run it's course?

If you could give any advice to your past self, right before starting your WIP, what would it be?

My questions, from phynewrites:

Which OC are you most fond of, and why?

David. I draw Davina more than David, by a lot, but David is my special little boy. He's the very first fursona I ever had, and he's still very near and dear to my heart.

Is there any form of media (other movies, books, theater, news, etc.) that inspired your wip/s? How so?

Visual Novels (which I'm working on one myself now!) and RPGs like Fable 2 and 3. Games where choices matter. I wanted to make a story that takes causality into account directly. Instead of writing back-to-front, where I have a pre-set conclusion, I write linearly. I've...essentially BECOME Malor, the God of Fate and Chance, from Relan.

I set very specific events that NEED to happen (David's incident with Trace, Ryder's employment with Kaleb, that sort of thing) and then allow the story to create itself in the in-betweens. What happens happens, and the choices matter: I let the characters breathe, live, do their own thing. I step into the shoes of an observer.

If I hadn't been so heavily inspired by games where the events are determined by free will and choice, I wouldn't write the way I do, and the story would be drastically different.

What wip-related activities do you do aside from writing your wip? (making moodboards or playlists, etc.)

Visual Novel XD I'm making a visual novel, and I draw now and then as well!

What are you most proud of in your wip/s and why?

The worldbuilding lore that most of the readers will never see XD

I put a LOT of work into building the world, before I ever wrote a single letter of the story, and most of it will never see the light of day unless I actually manage to finish the Relanian Lore Compendium

What tropes are common among your wip/s? Why do you enjoy incorporating these tropes?

Found Family, friends-to-lovers, affably evil, and irredeemably evil are my favorite tropes to use and pop up in almost everything I do XD

Which part of your wip are you most struggling and how do you plan to overcome it?

THE DOWNHILL CALM AFTER THE CLIMAX OF THE STORY. I've been struggling to write it for ages now. I finally hit the climax of the story and have been trying to write the final 2 chapters, and it's hard.

Supernatural said it best.

"Endings are hard. Any chapped-ass monkey with a keyboard can poop out a beginning, but endings are impossible. You try to tie up every loose end, but you never can. The fans are always gonna bitch. There's always gonna be holes. And since it's the ending, it's all supposed to add up to something. I'm telling you, they're a raging pain in the ass" - Chuck Shurley, Supernatural

Any advice/ words of encouragement or just really a greeting to any writeblr who would have read this far?

When you see those posts telling you how to be a good writer, giving all sorts of advice on the concepts of "show, don't tell", "don't over-worldbuild, don't under-worldbuild", "write this way, write that way"...

Fuck'em. If you're new enough to need advice, I promise, any advice like that is harmful. Start off just developing your style, your way. Learn how YOU write, what feels good to YOU. When you know your style, and you know what feels good to you, THEN learn the "rules".

Read like hell, both before, during, and after developing your style. When you have your style, learn the rules from an academic standpoint, learn the "correct" way to write.

And then adapt it. Bend the rules that suit you, break the rules that hurt your efforts, follow the rules that improve your work. Create your own set of rules and follow those instead of any standardized "This Is The Right Way" rules set by others.

That's my advice. Nobody can tell your story the way you can, so why should you follow anybody else's rules for writing?

#writeblr #literature #writing #tag game

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artblock-tm · 11 months ago

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what if you talk a bit more about that gay little jester you put in a mirror that would be funny i think

i forgot his name lol hehdgdhshdgdg

Oh yeah I’ll talk more about him. I’ll GLADLY talk more about Drisco. He likes the attention, too!

Origin and Design

Drisco and his rival/counterpart/toxic yaoi partner Castarian both originated in a dream I had. While Castarian was named, Drisco wasn’t, so I had to come up with something myself. It rhymes with “disco” but my intention was to derive something from “discord”.

So he’s one of the newest, and one of my more favored designs, since I’ve gotten better at designing OCs. I only have his top half planned out, since that’s mostly what appears, and the attempt at his bottom half isn’t set in stone…. But here he is!

Maybe I’ll give him stupid little pointed shoes with bells on the end.

Story

In life, he was the jester for some nobleman- he preferred that over working for a king, because he got juuuust the right amount of attention.

While I don’t have a lot of story planned out for this world , I do have a concept for their religion/magic system. It’s heavily based on flowers and their magical or divine properties. A lot of flower-based products are sold at markets because of their importance. They can be used for protective charms, healing salves, scents, etc. Alchemy is a major factor in their scientific and magical developments.

Drisco, however, dedicated his life to studying magic dealing with blood. This magic was darker and considered taboo, but he recognized it as the other side of the coin of the holy flowers. They’re both natural substances and, if applied correctly, have magic properties, and therefore have worth to any god(s) they believed in.

So Drisco learned how to control blood. He learned summoning rituals, ways to puppeteer people, ways to cast illusions, etc. He learned what was thought unethical to figure out- what the worth of a human soul is.

He studied this in the shadows of his jester life. Every so often he’d make trips into the forest to gather materials and stop at towns to put on a show. He met Castarian that way- in a fae-riddled forest. I might talk about the circumstances of their meeting and their complicated relationship sometime else; there’s a lot to it.

Anyway. Drisco eventually got caught studying this sinful magic. And so, he was executed, and just to make extra sure he couldn’t cause more harm, his spirit was cursed into a mirror. (Castarian died as a result of his death, too. Again, it’s complicated.)

The mirror was transported to an abandoned fort and covered with a cloth. Drisco, sentient as a spirit, couldn’t see out of the mirror with it covered. He spent centuries in darkness… and as someone who’s so fond of attention, that… that wore him down a little.

But he did discover he could control the interior of the mirror. It could become any scene he liked! He could simulate any place he wanted- outdoors, indoors, doesn’t matter! But the frame of the mirror always stays the same amount of space behind him, no matter how far it looks like he’s gone. And nothing is real in the worlds he create- he can’t feel the sun on his skin or breathe in fresh air anymore.

One day, the mirror was uncovered. And he was overjoyed. Immediately he started talking to the person who uncovered the mirror- only to quickly discover they couldn’t see him. And again, his hopes fell.

But even as they left, the mirror stayed uncovered. He could finally glimpse the room he was left in! It was… dusty and old and in the process of being cleaned up as a tourist space, but it was better than a black nothingness!

He also learned that Castarian, as a ghost, hangs out in the same fort. Somehow, as a spirit, he’d followed Drisco here and hadn’t left his side. At first, Drisco was touched…until he learned that it was because Castarian blamed him for his death and had waited all this time to yell at him. Whatever friendship they had dissolved as they argued.

Drisco is furious at Castarian (again, for complicated reasons), and wants his revenge. It’s a little hard to avenge oneself when one is trapped in a mirror, though…

As more and more people trickle through the not-so abandoned fort, Drisco realizes that some people can see him. He talks to those people, and starts to manipulate them. He gets them in their own for a while and puts on an entertaining show- perhaps with lights set up in the background of the mirror and a giant wheel of fortune, all modern game show things with a medieval twist!

But he always rigs the games and cheats to win. Every single one of his participants dies after losing enough games and being forced to do a favor for him. Slowly he gains more power with every death, having his players draw their own spell circles on the ground that will spell their demise and give the value of their soul, blood, and flesh to Drisco.

And he loves it. It only he could get back at Castarian….

Other Notes

If I could fully figure out the mechanics of Drisco’s game show, I think he’d be VERY fun to roleplay, especially if everything was left up to chance.

Despite his sadistic demeanor, Drisco had actually been very lonely. His shows are not only spectacular because he’s fruity, he’s also trying to capture your attention and make you stay. He only kills people he gets bored with- or if they had some really, really bad luck in his games.

And speaking of him being fruity, this man is gay. That’s right, he’s one of them homosexuals. He has a crush on Castarian (but it’s more of an obsession), but if you get on his good side and stick around a lot… he might get attached to you. I think he could definitely settle for more than one partner.

Unfortunately, he’s well aware that he’s good-looking and that people want to kiss him. And he WILL use this to manipulate people. But interact at your own risk.

Also when he gets mad, I think he should be allowed to look increasingly demonic, as a treat.

I made a drawing of him recently that’s my current Discord pfp!

TW: Some blood

That’s all!

…for now. Knowing him, this won’t be the last time I talk about him.

#artbabble-tm #oc: Drisco #oc: Castarian #goblinbugthing #ask #ocs #doodle doodles #doodle gallery #I love him. I hate him also but mostly I love him.

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morguemaw · 2 years ago

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1. I saw an ad for burial plots, but that’s the last thing I need.

2. Did you hear about the silk worm race? It ended in a tie.

3. I got fired from the calendar factory, just for taking a day off.

4. Q: What’s the best thing about Switzerland? A: Well, the flag is a big plus.

5. Clones are people two.

6. I wanted to learn how to drive a stick shift, but I couldn’t find a manual.

7. Napoleon may not have designed his coat, but he did have a hand in it.

8. I put up a high-voltage electric fence around my house. My neighbor is dead against it.

9. What are windmills’ favorite genre of music? They’re big metal fans.

10. The past, present, and future walk into a bar. It was tense.

11. Shopping centers, you’ve seen one, you’ve seen the mall.

12. My ceiling isn’t the best, but it’s up there.

13. I love whiteboards. They’re re-markable.

14. Which country’s capital has the fastest-growing population? AIreland. Every day it’s Dublin.

15. The machine at the coin factory just suddenly stopped working. It doesn’t make any cents.

16. I tried to make a belt out of watches. It was a waist of time.

17. I went to a new mechanic. They came highly wreck-a-mended.

18. What’s the difference between a hippo and a Zippo? A hippo is really heavy, and a Zippo is a little lighter.

19. Yesterday a clown held the door open for me. It was such a nice jester.

20. Why can’t you run through a campground? You can only ran, because it’s past tents.

21. Becoming a vegetarian is a big missed steak.

22. Why can’t Harry Potter tell the difference between his potion pot and his best friend? They’re both cauld ron.

23. An atom lost an electron. It really should keep an ion them.

24. What’s the best time on a clock? 6:30, hands down.

25. Please don’t make my funeral too early. I’m not really a mourning person.

26. I got fired from the bank. A man asked me to check his balance, so I pushed him over.

27. Why did the lizard say he named his baby “Tiny?” Because he’s my newt.

28. Someone stole the police station’s toilets. They have nothing to go on.

29. Having sex in an elevator is wrong on so many levels.

30. What’s the difference between a poorly dressed man on a bicycle and a nicely dressed man on a tricycle? Attire.

31. What does C.S. Lewis keep in his wardrobe? Narnia business.

32. I put all my cash into an origami business. It folded.

33. I was worried about being in a long-distance relationship. But so far so good.

34. I suffer from kleptomania. But I take something for it.

35. I’m afraid of negative numbers. I’ll stop at nothing to avoid them.

36. Acupuncture is a jab well done.

37. Two antennas got married. The ceremony wasn’t much, but the reception was excellent.

38. I quit my job at the donut factory. I was fed up with the hole business.

39. I once ate a watch. It was time consuming.

40. RIP boiling water. You will be mist.

41. Why did the monk refuse novocaine when he had his tooth pulled? He wanted to transcend dental medication.

42. Just found out sticks float. They would.

43. My boat was cold, I tried to make a fire but it sank. I guess you can’t have your kayak and heat it too.

44. I went to that new restaurant, Karma. There’s no menu, you just get what you deserve.

45. Why do cows have bells? Because their horns don’t work.

46. You can’t trust atoms, they make up everything.

47. I met a criminal with a bounty on his head. That was a weird place to keep paper towels.

48. A psychic tried to sell me information on my past lives. I hate used karma dealers.

49. I’m reading a book about anti-gravity. It’s impossible to put down.

50. I met my wife on a dating site. We just clicked.

51. I did a theatrical performance about puns. It was a play on words.

52. Thanks for explaining the word “many” to me. It means a lot.

53. My roommates suspect I’m stealing their kitchen utensils. But that’s a whisk i’m willing to take.

54. I’m going to try velcro instead of shoe laces. Why knot?

55. I decided to get rid of my spine. It was holding me back.

56. Long fairy tales have a tendency to dragon.

57. Knowing how to pick locks has opened a lot of doors for me.

58. No matter how kind you are, German children are kinder.

59. Architects are good at coming up with concrete plans.

60. I should have been sad when my flashlight batteries died, but I was delighted.

61. Who designed King Arthur’s round table? Sir Cumference.

62. What happened when the semi-colon broke grammar laws? He was given two consecutive sentences.

63. I recently took a pole and found out 100% of campers were angry when their tent collapsed.

64. I couldn’t remember how to throw a boomerang. Eventually it came back to me.

65. A friend said he didn’t understand cloning. I told him that makes two of us.

66. I had a pun about amnesia, but I forget how it goes.

67. Santa Claus’s elves are subordinate clauses.

68. I’m designing a reversible jacket. I’m excited to see how it turns out.

69. A man went to the hospital with eight plastic horses in his stomach. His condition is stable.

70. To the guy who invented Zero, thanks for nothing!

71. There’s a new type of broom out. It’s sweeping the nation.

72. I tried to draw a circle, but it was pointless.

73. Getting paid to sleep would be my dream job.

74. There’s a fine line between numerator and denominator.

75. Velcro… what a rip-off.

76. I gave away my dead batteries, no charge.

77. One-fifth of people are just too tense.

78. After the birth of your child, your role in life will become apparent.

79. A backwards poet writes inverse.

80. Bakers trade bread recipes on a knead to know basis.

81. My kid swallowed some coins, the doctor told me to just wait. No change yet.

82. My friend’s bakery burned down. Now his business is toast.

83. You should wear glasses while doing math. It improves division.

84. I’m glad I learned sign language. It’s really handy.

85. Bad gardeners are rough around the hedges.

86. A boiled egg in the morning is hard to beat.

87. This girl thought she recognized me from vegetarian club, but I’ve never met herbivore.

88. Why can’t you explain puns to kleptomaniacs? They always take things literally.

89. Did you hear about the man who lost his left side? He’s all right now.

90. I make apocalypse puns like there’s no tomorrow.

91. A cartoonist was found dead. Details are sketchy.

92. I removed the shell from my racing snail to make it faster. It just got more sluggish.

93. Life as a professional yo-yoer has its ups and downs.

94. I don’t trust stairs. They’re always up to something.

95. My wife told me to stop speaking in numbers. But I didn’t 1 2.

96. I failed my Braille class. It’s a touchy subject.

97. I used to hate facial hair, but it grew on me.

98. The shovel was a ground-breaking invention.

99. My leaf blower doesn’t work, it just sucks.

100. Need an ark? I Noah guy.

101. A plateau is the highest form of flattery.

Suffer

i wish to shit on your computer.

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sockablock · 4 years ago

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(TW for panic attacks and discussions about trauma)

— — —

The thing is, Beau's friends are shit fighters.

To be clear—she's not saying that they're bad at fighting, gods know Veth's a force of nature with her crossbow and all of the spell-slingers can kill with a word—it's just that when it comes to fighting, actual fighting, that down-and-dirty fist-on-flesh shit, her friends suck. Most of 'em just run, or they’d sweet-talk a surrender, or go back to slinging spells.

Beau would never admit she misses the Soul, but at least those people knew how to block. At least Dairon would make her work for it, wouldn't tell her to please, gods, Beau, stop punching me, I give!

Fjord's better these days, but not good enough.

Which is why, on their third morning back in Nicodranas, when Beau opens the door to see Yasha looking restless, she knows exactly what's up.

"Should I get my staff?"

Yasha shrugs. She usually does.

"I'll grab it. Down in five."

Beau considers grabbing some toast too, but she remembers how antsy Yasha seemed and figures she should try to avoid puking in Marion’s yard.

Yasha is stretching when she gets there. The gate swings behind her with a gentle clunk, and she kicks her shoes off, curls her toes in the grass. The sun is barely broken above rooftops and towers, and the first chime of church bells ring out overhead.

Beau yawns a little, but it’s just for flavor. Mind games. She’s not actually sleepy.

“We do not have to—”

She quickly waves her hand. “It’ll wake me up. You know, get the blood pumping.”

Yasha smiles a little at that. It’s always such a small one, but it’s getting to be familiar.

“I got up early. I couldn’t sleep. Er...sorry.”

Beau doubles her effort to be dismissive. “Don’t apologize to me, Yasha. C’mon. You think I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to?”

This seems to be a winning argument. Yasha nods, like she can’t imagine Beau doing anything she doesn’t want.

Maybe it’s the crisp ocean breeze, maybe it’s the way they circle each other in the yard. Maybe it’s the fresh brush of gauze on her fists.

Beau wants to win.

She dives in, pulls low, uses her quick movement to catch Yasha off-guard and get in as closely as she can. Yasha’s tall, broad, strong as an ox, and even holding back, she could wind Beau with a punch. She presses even closer, limiting Yasha’s motions, sweeps out a leg and cuts up when Yasha moves. The two of them duck and weave and push, neither allowing the other an inch, fists flying, blows being blocked and sweat beginning to pour down their backs. Beau lands a hit that leaves Yasha grunting, then stumbles when a wild haymaker knocks her back. It’s clear that Yasha was never taught any form, just scraped it all together by surviving on the moors and her chaotic movement, high endurance, and reckless confidence just make her deadlier.

Beau tries to close in again, but a lucky kick forces her a pace too far. Her knuckles are bruising in that numb, seething way, and so she darts to the side, grabs her staff, vaults up and then arcs her foot to Yasha’s face—

The dance starts again, this time hardwood hitting forearms and on anyone else, Beau might even feel guilty about it. But Yasha barely seems to register the thwack, her teeth bared in a sideways grin, her eyes hard and excited and alive. Beau’s probably wearing the same expression. She hears herself laughing, and knows that she is. Up-swing, down-swing, slide left, throw a punch, block one, dart back, duck and then—

Yasha’s fist catches her right in the gut, sends Beau lurching flat into the dirt. She chokes her own breath, coughs up dust, barely gets an elbow up with Yasha leaning over her, blotting out the sun, raising Beau’s staff for a finishing strike—

Halts.

It’s like watching a tower fall. Yasha staggers back. She drops the staff. She lifts her hands and stares at her palms and Beau hears a mangled breath. Her knees give. She collapses on herself.

Beau scrambles up, aching limbs forgotten.

“Yasha?” she says. “Yasha? Are you—is—what’s wrong?”

Yasha sucks in more air, but that just seems to make things worse. Her shoulders tremble and her lungs sound ragged.

“Aw, shit,” says Beau, “I mean—fuck—uh—”

She half-runs, half-crawls, ‘til she’s at Yasha’s side. She wants to put her hand on Yasha’s arm, thinks better of it, panics a little more. She wishes she were Jester. She wishes she were Cad. They’d know what to do, they’d be better at this than her, anyone, hell, Marius would be better at this than her—

But it’s her, and everyone’s still in the house, so she shakes her head and stamps the fear down.

“Yasha, I...aw, fuck, I’m—I’m here, it’s okay, nothing’s wrong—” clearly something is wrong, idiot, “—I mean, um, you’re safe here, okay? It’ll be alright. I’m here, and I’ll stay if that’s what you want, okay? I won’t go anywhere, if you don’t want. Uh...can you shake your head if you want me to go? Is that...possible, can you—”

A frantic shake.

“Oh good, okay, thank fuck, then I’m here. I’m right here, Yash. I’m not going anywhere.” She tries to pitch her voice calm, takes deep, long breaths, and continues to murmur as reassuringly as she can until after...seconds? Minutes? Yasha’s trembling slows.

There’s a pause. Yasha inhales and lets it go. It’s shaky, but apparently good enough because finally, eventually, she turns and looks back at Beau.

“I’m...okay. I am okay.”

Beau sinks back into the grass. Then she lies down. “Oh, cool. I’m, uh, glad.”

“I’m so—”

She holds up a hand. “Nope. C’mon.” She pats the ground beside her.

“Er...what?”

She pats it again, emphatic. “Lie down. C’mon. I think we’ve earned a break.”

She stares up at the sky while Yasha shifts around, and eventually there’s a gentle thud as she lies down. Seagulls cry in the distance and clouds drift slowly past their heads.

Beau swears, but mentally. A private thing.

“So, uh...do we...want to talk about it, or...?”

Yasha is quiet for a moment. That’s not surprising. Then:

“It...reminded me of when I killed you.”

“What? Oh—”

“Almost killed you,” Yasha amended. “Both times.”

“Right,” says Beau. “That’s...right.”

She thinks about saying—almost. You only almost killed me, so really it’s fine. There’s nothing to worry about. And you kill people all the time anyway, right?

She blinks. “Wait, you kill people all the time, Yasha. Is it always that bad? Shit, does it always...does it always make you feel like this? Only...I don’t think I’ve ever seen you...break like that...”

She regrets the words immediately. Stupid, Beau, that’s a stupid thing to say.

But Yasha answers the question earnestly. “It’s usually different,” she says to the sky. “It usually...doesn’t matter. Er...no, not that it doesn’t matter, it just...”

“Doesn’t matter,” Beau sighs. “No, I...sort of get it. Man, that might be fucked up. Of us.”

Yasha shrugs, which rustles the grass. “It’s how it has always been for me. That is just what life is like.”

“I’m sure Jester would disagree.”

“Jester is...nice. I am not. I...have hurt a lot of people. And not just people who were fighting me, or trying to hurt me, but people who were innocent, who did not need not to be hurt, people who care about me, and, and people who I...”

She trails off. Beau can’t see her face, but right now, selfishly, she is glad for it. She feels anger bubbling up in her stomach.

“You were being controlled,” she says fiercely. “You didn’t do it. Someone made you do it.”

“But...part of that...part of it was still me. Since...since you all freed me, I...I remember parts of it. I remember doing it. Those were my hands.”

Beau can practically hear Yasha’s fist tighten. She definitely feels it when Yasha hits the ground.

“If I was better, or if I was stronger, if I had broken free faster, none of that would have happened, I could have stopped him sooner—”

This time, Beau doesn’t hold back. They’re lying down, so it’s incredibly awkward, but the first thing she can think of is to grab Yasha’s hand.

She sits up, and waves it over Yasha’s face.

“But you didn’t,” she says, then falters, then wants to smack herself. “Fuck, no, that’s not what I mean. What I mean is...” Then she stops. “No, you know what? Fuck it. You didn’t break out faster. And that’s because it was a miracle you managed it in the first place. Yasha, you were being controlled by a devil. You were being controlled by the Chained Oblivion. The fact that you were even a person the first time we met—and you were a person, you were funny, you charged me money to, to, well, you charged me five gold, remember that?”

Yasha blinks. Her wrist is slack in Beau’s grip.

“I...do, yes, I remember that.”

“Right. The fact that you were a person then meant that they couldn’t keep their claws in you. Because you were strong. You were better. Better than everything they tried to make you. You kept breaking free.”

Yasha does not try to squirm away, only stays there.

“But...I needed help every time that I did escape. I never managed it on my own. First it was...it was Kord, and then you all—”

“Of course!” Beau throws her other arm into the air. “Who the fuck could do it on their own?! All that means is that when you had a chance, the second you had a chance, you were outta there. In your heart, you knew what was right. You knew it, and held onto it, even when I’m sure it would’ve been so easy to stay there, to stay in that hell and just go through the motions and lose yourself in...in grief, and loss and...and all that. But you didn’t. And now look at you.”

She cracks a goofy smile, all desperation to make what she’s trying to say heard.

“You’re an angel, Yasha. Remember?”

Yasha slowly sits up too. Her hair cascades down her shoulders, black turning white, with little blades of grass.

Beau is made painfully aware of the fact that she’s still holding Yasha’s hand. She lets go. Then she swears again, and hopes that Yasha doesn’t think it’s because of anything s—

“I am, aren’t I?”

Her gaze shoots up and Yasha's wearing a goofy smile too. Small, a bit nervous, but real and warm.

It’s getting to be familiar.

Beau snorts. She snorts so loud that it might dislodge something in her chest. She hits Yasha gently on the arm.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t, uh, don’t let it go to your head.”

She can see Yasha nodding in the corner of her eye.

“Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it.” Then, after a brief battle over whether or not to bring it up, “I don’t...I don’t...for the record, I’m not mad about you stabbing me. Or whatever.”

Yasha looks stricken, and Beau regrets it instantly. “Shit, should I not have reminded you of—”

“No,” Yasha sighs, and her face softens. “No. I am...glad that you are not mad at me.”

“Should we, like...go to a cleric about this?” Beau asks. “Is this going to be something that happens in, like...fights? Because if it does, it might put you in danger. Also, it’s...it probably sucks for you. Right?”

Fjord would probably have something to say about the way she’s handling this conversation. He’s not here now.

“I...don’t know,” Yasha says eventually. “It hasn’t happened before. It was only...just now. And...just with you. It...hurting you reminded me of being controlled. It...brought me back to all the times that my mind was not my own.”

“I’m sorry,” Beau says, because she’s not sure what else to say.

“No,” says Yasha. Beau looks up, surprised by the weight in her words. “If I am not allowed to be sorry to you, you cannot be sorry to me.”

“Ah,” says Beau. She feels a grin pulling. “In that case...I’m not sorry.”

Yasha nods, like this is sacred, and Beau can’t help but snort again.

“C’mon,” she says. “We can...work this shit out later. Or start to. With a cleric if you want, or not, if you don’t. But I just got my ass kicked, and I’m thirsty. What do you say to some drinks? I think there’s juice. Do you like juice?”

She stands up, and sticks out a hand.

Yasha takes it.

“Okay. I like juice.”

— — —

✨ Ko-Fi Link in Bio! ✨ | Requests are OPEN

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justaweirddruid · 3 years ago

Text

Fjorester Week - DAY 5: WATER

This is my first time writing a fic, but I had this idea a while ago and when the fjorester week themes were annouced I thought it’d be great with the theme for today so I had to try writing it.

So here it goes

The Blooming Grove

“You can hold my hand now”, Jester says with a big smile, looking at Fjord. “I’m holding your hand! I’m checking you out”, he smiles back at her.

“I’m checking you out”.

They start walking back to Caduceus family’s house, holding hands, laughing and making small talk, until Jester stops suddenly and looks at him, wide eyed.

“I almost forgot! I wanna show you something!”

“What?”

“Here!”, Jester says and starts pulling him in another direction, further away from the house. “Caduceus showed me this earlier and I thought you would like it”.

Fjord follows with a confused look and thinks about asking for more questions, but who is he kidding? She can take him anywhere and he would follow her without thinking twice. Jester takes a small path, hidden between the trees, using one hand to move the foliage away from her face while the other is busy pulling Fjord behind her. The way her tails is wiggling from side to side shows her excitement and only makes the half orc even more curious to where she’s taking him.

After another minute or two, she stops and turns back to him.

“Look!”

She steps forward, still pulling Fjord by the hand, and he sees what she’s talking about. They’re in a clearing surrounded by the dense vegetation of the Grove, flowers of a multitude of colors, vines, green bushes and small trees. In the middle of the clearing, there is a small lake of clear water reflecting the moonlight, with a spring that flows down into smaller shallow pools below. It’s one of the most beautiful places he’s ever seen.

“Isn’t it great?”.

“It really is, Jester”.

“Caduceus showed me these hot springs earlier and said he’ll bring everyone here tomorrow, but I thought we could check it out before. You know, just the two of us”. Fjord notices how she looked away during that last part and he can swear he sees her blushing a little, just a slightly darker shade of blue in her cheeks.

“That was a wonderful idea”. Still holding hands, he walks with her towards the bigger pool, “It’s been a while since we’ve had a quiet time for ourselves. Not since… not since that night in Caleb’s tower”.

It’s his turn to look away now. He shouldn’t be this nervous when talking about the night they had their first kiss, he knows this. Jester has shown nothing but affection towards him since that night and every time Fjord remembers how happy and giddy she looked after the kiss, he can’t help but feel his heart growing in his chest. However, there’s still a tiny voice inside his head trying to convince him it will all be over soon, no matter how hard he tries to shut it down.

“You wanna sit by the water?” Fjord asks.

“Sure!” Jester notices how quickly he changed the subject but doesn’t say anything. They’re finally alone now, they can take their time.

She takes off her shoes and stockings, and sits with herlegs inside the pool. The water is so warm and it feels so good that it makes her relax almost instantly.

“Hurry up, Fjord! It’s sooo good” Jester sighs happily and wiggles her toes, watching them move underneath the clear water.

“I’m ready! I’m ready!”.

He wasn’t.

Still rolling up his pants, Fjord trips and almost falls down in the water, which prompts the loudest laugh from Jester.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it”, she says, still laughing and not looking sorry at all. Part of him hates how often he makes a fool of himself in front of the woman he adores, but an even bigger part would happily make it all over again just to see that smile. The smile he loves so much.

He smiles back at her and laughs too, he can’t help it, Jester has this effect on him. It’s impossible to be anything but happy when she’s around.

They’re both with their feet in the water now. The grove is quiet around them, only the sound of the spring flowing to the other pools and an owl hooting in the distance. “What were you talking about before? About that night in the tower?” Jester tries to be as nonchalant as possible, as if that night isn’t what she wanted to talk about in the first place and the reason she was looking for more alone time with Fjord.

“I- I just said… Umm” he almost chokes on his words and Jester laughs again. “I was just saying that we haven’t had any alone time, just the two of us, since that night. Since…” “Since you asked to kiss me?”

“…Yes” he’s blushing now, he can feel it.

Fjord takes all the courage he can gather and looks back at her. Jester’s still smiling, looking up at him. She takes his hand again and holds it in her lap.

The way she looks at him… it takes his breath away, it always does. Her eyes are sparkling and the moonlight reflecting on her blue skin almost makes her glow. Only now, he realizes she got a little closer, so close he can count all the freckles on her nose and cheeks. Gods, he wants to kiss her again.

“I- I’ve been thinking about that night, you know” Jester says.

“You… you have?”

“Yeah. A lot” she looks nervous now, drawing circles in his hand with her thumb. “I was a little surprised when you did that, I- I didn’t really know what to say”.

Fjord’s heart starts racing and he thinks for a moment that he made a terrible mistake and she doesn’t feel the same way. But then he notices how she’s still smiling at him and holding his hand even tighter.

“I care a lot about you too, Fjord” she continues. “More than I ever thought it was possible to care about anyone”.

“You do?”

His heart is beating so fast he’s afraid it might jump out of his chest. Can she hear how loud is it beating? He think she might, he definitely can.

“I always did, Fjord. I didn’t understand what I was feeling before and there was some stuff I had to figure out by myself, but yeah. I’m sorry it took me so long so realize it”. “No no, don’t apologize! Please”, he’s fully facing her now, getting even closer. “We both had a lot to deal with and I also had to take time to understand what I was feeling. In case you haven’t noticed, I have no idea what I’m doing”.

Jester laughs again and gives him a little bump with her shoulder.

“No, Fjord, you know what you’re doing”.

“I truly don’t” he laughs too.

Fjord looks at the clearing and at the water. There’s still so much he wants to say, so much he wants her to know, and he can tell she wants to say more too. But that’s okay for now, they still have time.

Suddenly, an idea comes to his mind.

“What are you doing?” Jester asks.

“Wait, you’ll see”.

He raises his hand towards the water and she can hear him muttering the words for a spell. The tiefling looks at the pool again, trying to understand what he’s doing but nothing happens. Then she sees it.

It starts as a faint light coming from the bottom of the small lake, slowly spreading throughout the water. Jester lets out a small cry and covers her mouth when she realizes what it is, looking at Fjord with a surprised smile.

“A jellyfish bloom!”

“Yeah. Not a real one, though. It’s just an illusion” Fjord answers.

The entire pool is now filled with hundreds of colorful jellyfish. Every shade of blue, purple, green and pink, swimming in all directions.

Jester is beaming, her face reflecting all the colors of the jellyfish as she watches them. She puts her hand inside the water and one of the creatures passes through it, revealing the illusion for a moment.

“Jester… why are you looking at me like this?”

She has her trickster face on now, the one he also knows very well.

“You knowww, Fjord” she says. “The last time we saw a jellyfish bloom, you talked about how you can’t go in the water with them because they sting”.

“Yes...” he can see where this is going.

“Wellll, these are illusions, so…” Jester raises her eyebrows, the question she didn’t even need to ask up in the air.

“I don’t know what you mean, Jester” he pretends, faking a look of confusion. “Yes you do!”.

Jester starts poking at him, also pretending to be mad which is exactly what he wanted. Using her moment of distraction, he puts one hand underneath her legs and the other on her back and lifts her up. The half orc knows very well he’s not the strongest one of the two, but getting her off guard was enough to give him the edge.

“Fjoooord” Jester yells as he throws her in the water.

She reappears a few seconds later, the jellyfish swimming around her.

“I can’t believe you did that” she looks at him, narrowing her eyes. She’s trying to look mad but her smile is betraying her.

“I’m sorry, Jester, I couldn’t help it” he repeats what she’s said to him earlier. “Do you want some company?”

Fjord offers his hand to her and it takes her less than a second to pull him inside the pool with her, taking him by surprise at how fast she was.

The water feels even hotter, but still very pleasant. They both swim to the middle of the lake and watch the jellyfish surround them, touching them without having to fear their sting. “You wanna see how it looks under the water?” Fjord asks.

“Let’s do it”.

“Wait” he stops her before she goes. “Let me help us a little more”.

She hears him casting another spell and feels the familiar sensation, they can breathe underwater now.

Smiling, Jester gives him a wink and dives under the water. Fjord quickly following her. The jellyfish bloom looks even more beautiful than on the surface, their glow illuminating the entire pool.

Fjord was so taken back by the view that he lost track of the direction Jester went, not able to see her through all the jellyfish. He looks around for a few seconds, trying to decide where to go, when she suddenly reappears in front of him. He thought the illusion looked beautiful but Jester looks absolutely breathtaking surrounded by the colors and the glow of the bloom. She can probably see what he’s thinking in his face because she blushes a little and looks away, not being able to hide her smile.

He takes her hand and they swim together, admiring the effects of the spell and looking at the natural beauty of the lake. After a few minutes, Jester holds him back by the hand and stops swimming.

“Everything okay?” his voice comes out a little distorted from the water. ”Yes. I- I was just thinking about something”.

“What?”

Jester doesn’t answer.

Instead, she swims until they’re facing each other. She puts her hands on his shoulder and stares into his eyes for a few seconds. Getting even closer, inch by inch, slowly, so he has enough time to stop her if he wants to.

If only she knew how much he’s been waiting for this moment, how much he wanted to be this close to her again…

He puts his hands on her waist, pulling her closer. He doesn’t want to wait anymore. She brushes her lips to his, gently. Fjord can hear his ears ringing now and his heart is beating faster than ever. He puts one hand behind her head and presses his lips into hers a little harder, and it’s like something clicked inside of her. Jester puts both hands around him and fully kisses him, parting her lips.

They kiss while the jellyfish swim around them. They can feel a very faint warm sensation whenever one of the illusions passes through them, but both have so many different thoughts racing through their minds right now that they barely notice.

After a while, they separate their lips, still holding each other close. Fjord closes his eyes and rests his head on hers. It’s still so surreal to think he gets to do that, he gets to kiss her and be with her and tell her how much she means to him. It’s almost overwhelming. Jester gives him another quick kiss, takes him by the hand one more time and starts swimming back to the surface. They get out of the water and sit by the edge again, a little closer now. “Good thing it’s not cold here” he says, trying to break the silence.

“Yeah” Jester rests her head on his shoulder, still holding his hand. “You know, kissing underwater is pretty fun too”.

“It is” Fjord laughs. “Although I think being able to breath under the water makes it way easier”. “Good thing you always have this spell prepared, then” she says and gives him a wink. “Anytime you want, Jester”.

They still have a couple more minutes of the illusion, so they snuggle quietly, looking at the jellyfish.

“This place is amazing, isn’t it?” he asks.

“Yeah. It’s beautiful” Jester answers back, smiling. She’s not looking at the lake, though, she’s watching Fjord as he runs his fingers through the water, seeing how calm and happy he looks now.

He doesn’t notice.

#fjorester #fjoresterweek #critical role #this is the cheesiest thing in the universe #so you're welcome I guess?#fjord #jester lavorre #mine: fic

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nautiscarader · 3 years ago

Note

Marichat 1

Smutember day 1 - Strip Poker, Marichat (ML)

(Ao3)

With apologies to anyone, who knows how to play poker.

Also I hope you will apprciate all the ice puns. You will soon see why.

What killed the dinosaurs? THE ICE AGE

===========

At this point, Marinette thought she'd be used to having a boyfriend with a slightly unusual method of dropping by. She heard the scratching on the trapdoor, and when she opened it, she was welcomed with an upside-down face of her feline companion.

With his trademark agility he indeed dropped in, landing on all fours and jumped back up, his tail coiling around her waist to bring her into his arms.

- Quite a bold move, kitty. - she smiled. - Well, you know me. - How did you know I'd be free tonight, though? College is forcing me to stay a lot in the libraries, even in the evening... I was about to hit the hay... - she pointed to her rather skimpy clothing. - I guess it was a bluff.

His hands slid up and down her thighs, while her legs gently parted his. It was true, her university did embark a toll on her private life, giving the two way less time to spend together.

And as the two were about to kiss, a word from him gave Marinette an idea.

- How about strip poker? - Marinette asked, raising her eyebrow - If you think your bluff game is so strong... - Sounds like a slightly more complicated way of getting you out your clothes, princess... - Chat replied cockily.

Marinette gave him a gentle kiss and jumped onto her back. She straightened the sheets, took the deck, shuffled it, and shot Chat with a smile.

- I assume an alley cat like you-you know how to play poker? - she added with just a tinge of hesitation. - Ah, of course - he replied with a similar moment of worry - Were you thinking of some other, simpler game? - Well...

Marinette began, and she lost control of her deck, temporarily scattering cards all over her laps.

- There-there is this card mini game in this, uh, app game called Mister... - Penguino! - Chat finished, and coughed, sounding a bit too excited - I heard, I mean. We can, uh play that simplified version, just to humour you. - Yeah, I mean, even pros need a break once in a while.

The two shared a long, silent connection, as Marinette shuffled and dealt the cards. She hid her face behind them, wishing she could have seen the tooltips that automatically suggested the desired highest combo...

She sneaked a quick look at Chat, but she was used to him hiding his thoughts, and it seemed for once he might have an upper hand, or claw...

She repositioned a few cards, and with a firm move, she put two of them down, sending her opponent a faint smile.

- I've got... one pair of snowshoes! - and she proudly uncovered two queens. Chat smiled back. - Guess I've invited you to ice-skate ring for a date.

And revealed four cards from his hand.

- Two pairs.

Marinette's smile faded, and knowing he wouldn't look away, she undid her ponytails, tossing away her hair ties.

- Come on, that barely counts as clothing. - Chat protested. - Be glad I undid them both at the time. - she smiled and took more cards.

This time, the pause did not last as long, as Marinette didn't even wait for Chat.

- Four of a kindle! - Eh, pass.

And with that, Marinette watched as he ditched his gloves. After a few ties, her winning streak returned, as she got a regular Strait, followed by Icy Strait, much to Chat's surprise.

- In hindsight, I should have thought this through, wearing one-piece outfit isn't the best strategy...

Marinette just nodded, watching as he lost his shoes and Chat Noir-themed socks. And she had to restrain herself from giggling when she looked at her next hand.

- Full Igloo! in your face!

Chat Noir swallowed, and knowing that she will watch every move of his slowly pulled down the golden bell, revealing his lean, but muscular chest, and, as he let his costume fell to the floor, Marinette's eyes fixated on his...

- Boxers!? - Marinette protested - What? - they were bundled with socks - And he pointed to his pawprints his boxers were dotted with.

Marinette grumbled. It seemed her luck has ran out temporarily. Two Snowmen and one Ho-Ho later, she found herself without her jacket and pants. She suddenly found herself wished she had worn socks...

But then, with a triumphant smile, she laid down five cards down.

- Slushy Strait.

She spoke, looking at four cards Chat put down that were nowhere close to topping hers.

And with a faint smile, Chat stood up and reached to his boxers, where a faint trace of his erection was visible. Marinette bit her lip, and watched as the dark material slides down, until his biology performed an admirable jolt, when his cock sprung to life once he was freed.

- Well, looks like you've won. - Chat sat down, and was about to shuffle the cards back when Marinette stopped him. - Not yet. You still have your mask.

Adrien swallowed loudly, as Marinette's smile widened to an almost Cheshire-cat length.

- My... My princess... - Deal the cards. - she cut him off quickly, trying not to have her mind clouded with the image of his cock.

But the smile faded away equally quickly. Next turn forced Marinette to take her top, and in two more, she found herself whether to choose her bra, or her panties, which have revealed her readiness already. And knowing that, she opted for them, hoping the sight of her sex would throw her opponent off.

Chat smiled, watching as Marinette lifted her legs into the air and undid her panties, pretending to hide her puffy lips from him, when in reality she made sure that her night lamp would show a few droplets of her arousal.

The two stared at each other and reached for more cards. This time, her face remained frozen and motionless, and she put down five cards.

Chat Noir, with equally stoic demeanour, did the same.

At the same time, they both revealed them.

- Icy Slushy Strait! - Marinette howled - Finally, I will know the identity of my boyfriend... - Five of a kindle. - What?!

Marinette watched, as Chat flipped each card, one ace at a time, finishing with a comedic depiction of a medieval jester.

She looked up, unable to believe his luck. Instead of any explanation, she just saw a glimmer in his green eyes.

She reached her hand behind her back and undid her bra, rendering her completely naked, while Chat licked his lips at the sight of her breasts.

- Can we stop pretending? - Yeah, I guess.

Marinette grumbled, and she welcomed the feeling of his lips on hers, as he jumped onto her, pinning her naked body to her comfy bed.

But he wasn't interested in immobilising her, as Chat was clearly drawn to her sex, now positively glistening with her juices, and a single lick of his made Marinette howl, as her legs flailed around his head.

Chat drove her insane for a couple of minutes, knowing she wasn't even trying to hide her oncoming climax. The feeling of his fingers, instead of claws brought a much needed comfort and tenderness to his foreplay, especially when he traced her clit.

And just as with the final hand, this one brought Marinette to her loss. She buried her face in a pillow, while she soaked her lover with her arousal, thrashing around him, much yo his pleasure.

Adrien thought she would remain like that for long, but her shaking arms were soon around his neck, as she brought him onto her.

She let out a moan under his pleasant, heavenly weight, but when his aggressive behaviour drove him between her legs, she had to stop him.

- Ah, ah, ah - Marinette spoke, as Chat looked at her, stumped - Forgot about something?

She reached to her nightstand, and to his surprise, she produced a condom in a black package depicting a handsome man with green eyes and cat ears, clearly from the same set as his underwear.

- I feel I should file for copyright claim. - They make ones with Ladybug as well... - Marinette added with a mixture of annoyance and odd bit of pride in her voice - I know we were stripping down, but this will suit you.

She let out a giggle when his cock twitched in her hand, as she coiled her fingers around him and slid the condom on, feeing each of his vein under her fingertips.

- Sorry kitty, but I'm not ready for your kittens yet... maybe next month...

She joked and gasped, as Chat positioned himself between her legs, feeling his tip brushed her wet opening.

Spoiled by his delicate treatment before, it was time for Chat to utilise his pent-up energy, as he slid inside her with ease, earning another languorous moan from his lover, as she dug her nails into his back.

With each thrust, she spilled his name into his ear, feeling his cock spreading and tearing her in half, as buried himself deeper and deeper.

- Chat... Chat... Chaton!

She knew he was on the edge of his climax too, brought by their shared taunting, and though she preferred long, slow love-making, she would gladly welcome another "little death", as it was called in her language.

She listened to his guttural, low groans, and when his back arched, so did hers, almost as if to give him chance to reach her depths, while he filled his condom with seed, and her ears with her name.

The two joined bodies pulsed and shuddered, as Chat delivered his potency into the rubber, her body milking him for more in a futile attempts at executive the biological imperative Marinette protected herself from.

Their groans and moans subsided, as their lips met, and with that, the gentle creaking of the bed stopped as well, replaced by smacking sound of their hungry mouths.

- Well, looks like I won, Chat huffed, lifting himself from his position, marvelling at the sight of Marinette's slightly sweaty body and her ruffled hair. - Are-are you sure?

Marinette's lips curled in a cocky smile and she showed him her hand, holding four aces and a joker she must have picked up when they were basking in their shared afterglow.

- But... - But what kitty? Look, my sleeves are empty - she raised her arms to mock him further - My princess, that's cheating! - All's fair in love and war - she spoke without missing a beat - Your mask, Chaton

Cold sweat rushed down his spine, strengthened by her piercing gaze and a sly smile. For quite a while neither of them spoke, each fixated at their partner's face.

- Although, I can accept this as alternative.

Marinette spoke and grabbed his cock, sliding underneath it, until it hovered over her face. Her fingers pinched the tip of the condom, filed with his seed and she stuck her tongue out, waiting for her reward as she slid it from his length.

Inch by inch, as Marinette disrobed her lover, globs of his potent spunk landed in her mouth, guided by her skilled tongue that traced his undercock, causing him to shudder and twitch.

And even after the condom was off, Marinette squeezed it to ensure that none of his hard and tasty work would be wasted, letting out loud and unabashed sounds of satisfaction as she tasted her salty treat, making sure to not look away from Chat's enamoured face.

Despite being disrobed, Marinette won, proudly wearing a smile and his cum on her face.

- That... that was quite a move, Marinette. - Chat admitted and bowed gently, sneaking a kiss to her ankle, as he helped her collect her clothes. - Always pleasure to win with someone, who knows how to lose. - she giggled in return. - Next time you will be the one begging for mercy. - Oh, I sure hope so.

Marinette raised her arms and put her wrists next to the headboard of her bed, as if she was tied. She watched, as his cock twitched again through his latex clothes.

- Oh, and by the way... I'd still win. - he said as he climber up - I still had my tail.

He closed the door, and only after a while Marinette let out a gasp when she realised how his tail could have been attached to his naked body once he got out of his suit...

#marichat #smutember #day 1 #miraculust #lemon #mlnsfw #nautiscaraderfics #smutember 2021 #smutember2021

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2manyfandoms2count · 4 years ago

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Poisson d'avril

Here, have a half-baked April Fool’s Day fic my brain decided to wake me up for. For context, one of the most popular jokes for April 1st in France is taping paper fish to each other’s backs, the more original the fish the better (my childhood is filled with trying to sneak behind teachers' backs to tape one on them; they were very chill about it, tbh). Poisson d’Avril is also what you say at the end of a joke on that day (think "sike", but festive). More about this great tradition that apparently dates back to at least 1466 here.

Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3

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Marinette loved April Fool’s Day at Françoise Dupont. The school was always buzzing with little pranks at that time of the year, the blooming spring giving a wonderfully cheerful backdrop to the shenanigans the collégiens were up to.

These were all very light-hearted, if sometimes a little elaborate.

As usual, some students had been found early in the morning in the classrooms, thwarting their attempt to recreate the legendary horizontal fiasco of 20XX, where everything had been set up to look like the rooms had been flipped by 90°. Mr Damoclès had let them go mercifully, thankful that the students hadn’t been tempted to glue everything to the ceiling in an effort to one-up their predecessors. Somehow, he wouldn’t have put it past Kim and Alix to try and coordinate the project, as a last hurrah before heading on to lycée.

There were also seemingly well-meaning classmates offering chouquettes or donuts in the courtyard, which Marinette knew to stay well away from, knowing the former were likely sprinkled with coarse salt, and the latter filled with the likes of mayonnaise instead of jam. She’d been in their shoes a couple of years prior, building her classmates’ trust by bringing them the sweet delicacies every day for a week, and switching on April 1st as a joke.

Heading to class, she heard a lot of laughter, people telling jokes, or trying to see how far they could take a story without it being called out on it (this year, Nino had Kim panicking over a brevet exam part they supposedly had, which was a step down from the previous year, where he’d convinced him that everybody needed to come in dressed up in medieval costumes, and that he’d landed the court jester role; his friend had turned up the next day in a full outfit, complete with bells on his hat and shoes, and upon discovering the deception, had decided to make good use of them and make the joke everybody’s problem).

However much she enjoyed those kinds of pranks, though, Marinette’s favourite remained the classic poisson d’avril: taping paper fish to people’s backs. It was something anyone could take part in, as a predator or a prey, with or without premeditation. You didn’t necessarily need scissors and tape, if you managed to steal some from somebody else’s back.

Marinette liked to take it seriously. Done right, the exercise demanded stealth she’d had even as a little kid, and had honed ever since being chosen to become Ladybug, as well as creativity she had piles of. She’d stayed up the previous night, making plenty of fish varying in size and colour, some tailored to her friends, like the Rena Rouge and Carapace ones that were intended for Alya and Nino respectively. She’d of course also made the rest of the Miraculous team, as well as some other designs based on Kitty section, her classmates, or celebrities.

As always at the end of the day, Rose walked around with a whole school on her back. It wasn’t clear if she was completely oblivious to it, or if she knew what was going on but enjoyed the giddy giggles of the people who managed to add an extra fish in, or take one off.

The only person who’d managed to escape the prank so far was Adrien, and it wasn’t for lack of trying. Kim, Alix and Nino had gone to great lengths to get at least one fish on his back, even recruiting Markov to sneak behind him, but the boy seemed to have a sixth sense.

No sooner did he hear the faintest of ruffles, that his head would jerk up, eyes darting around to figure out where the sound had come from, thwarting any efforts, no matter how elaborate they’d been.

Marinette had been reluctant to target Adrien, despite having a special fish for him, complete with his stripes and an orange-tipped tail, but as the day went by and more people joined the challenge to trick him, she felt the urge to compete rise in her chest and started unwillingly tracking his every movement, trying to find a breach in his focus.

It was a fastidious process, even for someone who enjoyed watching Adrien happily live his life, but it paid off around the end of the day, just after the last bell.

Marinette noticed that Adrien’s shirt looked a little rumpled around the back as they were retrieving books from their lockers, and approached him calmly.

“Adrien?” She announced her presence when she was right behind him, surprised that he hadn’t turned around yet. He almost jumped out of his skin at the sound of her voice.

“Marinette!” He yelped, a hand flying to his heart. “Sorry, I didn’t hear you approach.” He chuckled nervously.

“No, I’m sorry I scared you!” Marinette looked down, apparently sheepish. In truth, she was cursing inwardly at the missed easy opportunity. Adrien had been at ease with her coming closer, which she assumed was because it was the end of the day and he’d started letting his guard down; she could have gone about her business and he would’ve been none the wiser. She shook her head; it didn’t matter, she’d just go on with her original plan. “It’s just that… well, it’s stupid, but the back of your shirt is a little creased, and I know how important your appearance is to your family so… Do you mind if I fix it?”

“Thanks Marinette, that’d be awesome.” He smiled at her in a way that would have made her lose her cool, had it been any other day. But she was on a mission, and there was no way she was letting the opportunity of pranking Adrien when nobody else had managed the feat go by.

“Okay, let me just…” Marinette reached into her purse and took the first piece of paper she felt, before gently taping it to Adrien’s shirt, making sure to smooth the fabric at the same time so he wouldn’t realise what she was doing.

“There, all done!” She smiled when she was satisfied the tape had adhered well enough.

He smiled back at her, but was interrupted in his thanks by Nino and Alya calling for them to hurry up.

“Today was really fun, I’m so glad I got to experience it first hand,” Adrien beamed as the group walked out of the building, Nino and Adrien a little ahead of the girls. “And I’m really proud that I survived it without getting pranked!”

Marinette bit back a laugh, eyes darting to his back.

“I wouldn’t be so confident, Sunshine,” Alya replied, untaping the fish from his back and handing it to him.

“What…” Adrien stopped in his tracks, looking at it, and particularly Marinette’s signature on the back of the piece of paper, in disbelief. He turned around with a look of mock betrayal. “I can’t believe you’d do this to me!” He pouted.

“I couldn’t just let you off the hook,” she shrugged with a small smile, making a mental note to reuse the phrase with Chat Noir when she saw him later. He’d enjoy the pun.

Adrien let out a small chuckle as he turned the fish around, but the sound died as he saw the pattern. The colour drained from his face and he froze as he took in the black and green colour scheme and the fish’s whiskers.

“Adrien? Is everything okay?” Marinette frowned, noticing his change in body language.

“Yeah, um… Can I talk to you for a second?” He looked up at her.

“What a great idea!” Alya pushed Marinette towards Adrien before hooking her arm through Nino’s and starting to go down the stairs. “We’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

Marinette thought she heard her add “Can you believe they might get together over an April Fool’s joke?”, as she waved them off absentmindedly, but her gaze met Adrien’s troubled one and she decided she’d deal with her best friend later.

“What’s up?” She asked, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks; the adrenaline from succeeding her challenge was evidently starting to wear off.

“What’s this?” Adrien asked cautiously, handing her the fish.

Marinette took it cautiously, saw the pattern, and smiled. “It’s a poisson-chat noir,” she said proudly. It was a bit of a shame she’d picked that one for Adrien, but she guessed she couldn’t have kept it for her partner anyway, given that she’d signed it. Still, she thought he would have liked the joke. Especially if it came from Ladybug.

“How did you know?” he murmured, looking at her incredulously. She tilted her head, raising her eyebrows at his cryptidness. He explicited his thoughts. “I saw the fish you gave Alya and Nino, and the one you managed to pin on Chloé; they were all references to their superhero selves. And now you get this one right as well… How did you know?”

It was Marinette’s turn to freeze and feel the colour draining from her cheeks. “I… I didn’t. I picked one randomly when I saw an opening.”

“Oh.” She saw the cogs turning in Adrien’s brain while she felt her own shut down, still processing one important piece of information.

“Adrien… Are you Chat Noir?”

“Um… Poisson d’avril?” He ventured.

“Adrien.” She repeated sternly.

“Okay, fine, you got me.” Adrien huffed, raking a hand through his hair. “Please, don’t tell Ladybug.” He pleaded.

“Too late, I’m afraid.” She dug out her poisson-Ladybug and taped it to herself. She saw Adrien’s eyes grow as wide as his smile before being engulfed in a hug and feeling his lips on her forehead. “Kwami, we really might get together over an April Fool’s joke,” she muttered against his chest. If the heat she felt at the tip of her ears said anything, she probably was as red as Ladybug’s costume, and it probably wouldn’t go unnoticed.

“What was that?” Adrien pulled out a little from their hug to look at her.

“Nothing.” She smiled, and took his hand. “Now come on Chaton, we have some things to discuss, and we should probably go somewhere more private.”

“You know I’d follow you anywhere, my Lady.” He picked their entwined hands and kissed hers.

Really, she thought as they made their way towards her parents’ boulangerie, she loved poissons d’avril.

#i miss the simpler times where we'd get up to this kind of stuff #it's just not the same during a lockdown :')#miraculous ladybug #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #adrienette #adrinette #adrien agreste #marinette dupain-cheng #miracuclass #april fool's day #april 1st #elle writes #i'm sorry if you clicked the link #you're allowed to yell at me

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evabellasworld · 3 years ago

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An Unforgettable Honeymoon

For @10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat , this is my gift for you as part of the @starwarsfandomfests event. Thank you to @lilhawkeye3 for organising this event. I really enjoyed it so far.——————————————————————————————

Summary: Bly and Aayla head to a tropical island planet for their honeymoon, where they create an everlasting memory as a newly-wedded couple

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AO3 Link

Arriving at a tropical, humid planet, Bly and Aayla got off from the cargo ship as they had their suitcases in their hands, standing in a station full of tourists and locals from all walks of life. Bly noticed a blue Twi'lek girl, who shared similar resemblances with his wife and was around 4 or 5 years old, held both her parent's hands as they made sure that their daughter was well-protected from danger.

This might be us in the future, Bly let his lips curl upwards as he rested his head on his right palm, and he saw three Rodian boys in their shirts and beach shorts, carrying their own surfboards. They reminded him of his closest siblings, Ares and Ahri, who hung out with him whenever they’re on a break from war. Ahri and Ares would love surfboarding at the beach.

Aayla glanced at her husband's curiosity and placed her hand on his shoulder, prompting him to shift his focus towards her. “You seemed deep in your thoughts, dear,” the blue Twi'lek teased. “First time on a vacation, commander?”

“Yes, general,” he replied, his voice laced with doubts. “This is my first time I’m going on a vacation with you.”

Aayla let out a chuckle, leaving his cheeks turned pink. “Did I do anything wrong, general?”

“Bly, you know the war is over, right?” she grinned. “Besides, we just got married two days ago, so you can just refer to me by my first name.”

Scratching the back of his head, he nodded slowly as he squirmed his lips and released an agitated laugh. “My apologies, general, I mean, Aayla. I'm still getting used to this new life as a clone. Besides, you referred to me as commander, so I thought I was fighting battle droids on the battlefield.”

“Don't worry about it, dear,” his newly wedded wife smiled, caressing his tan, tattooed cheeks. “You'll get through with this. Besides, I'm also getting the hang of this as a Jedi Master. It’s really difficult to adjust myself after three years of chaos. It’s strange that I have to get used to a peaceful life.”

“Yeah, it is strange,” he bobbed his head solemnly as he reached out his arms and took her hands, reminding him just how lucky both of them finally got to spend quality time with each other, without any interruptions from protocols and orders from a higher authority. “Should we head to our hotel now? I can’t wait to have some privacy together,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows twice.

“Lead the way, my love.”

Placing their suitcases on the red, carpeted floor, Aayla sighed in relief as the couple were greeted with scarlet rose petals on their bed, making them feel welcomed. Feeling a bit of exhaustion from the journey from Coruscant to Moluqu, she slid open the balcony door and gazed at the picturesque view of the beach from their room.

With the warm breeze blowing from the west and the illuminating pink sunlight, she sat on the rattan chair with a delicate, pearly cushion, her legs crossed.

Listening to the cheerful laughter of children, she was brought back down the memory lanes as a young Padawan, who used to sprint around the garden, which was filled with a cherry blossom tree, honeysuckles that were grown in shrubs, and morning glories that tangled around the black, iron gates. Whenever she tried to pluck a blue daisy from a pot, Master Vos always caught her red-handed and chased after her, but Aayla always outran him in the Temple.

I was such a mischievous child in the past, Aayla snickered to herself, looking at the horizon. But I'm grateful for the lessons he taught me, walked me down the aisle and accepted Bly.

The clone trooper glimpsed his wife, who was relaxing on the balcony. Changing into his beach attire, he put on his shades and leaned behind the sliding door, clearing his throat. “Hey, Aayla. We're heading to the beach right now. Are you coming? We haven’t got all day.”

“Of course, dear,” she answered him and got up from her seat. "I'll be right there in a minute.”

As she headed inside, she drew the curtains and changed into an ultramarine strapless bikini top with a high-waisted bikini bottom, carrying her towel by her forearm. Putting on her blueberry flip flops which she bought yesterday at a Coruscant night market, the couple linked arms with each other as they left their hotel room and strolled leisurely towards the beach, feeling the fine, warm sand underneath their bare feet as they took off their shoes.

Despite memorising the colours of the ocean, Bly felt like it was the first time he had experienced the shimmering sea in front of his eyes. He fought at a beach during the second year of the Clone Wars, but his eyes glimmered at the turquoise and deep blue palette of the ocean, where children and adults alike of all species gathered and swam. Rows of coconut trees were swaying with the balmy wind as tourists lay underneath the cooling shade, forgetting all their troubles at the present moment.

Aayla spread out their lemon-patterned beach mat underneath the palm tree, which was stubbier than the coconut trees. The only worst thing that could happen to the couple was a bunch of squirrels invading their peace, which occurred once during a scouting mission. “Well, we found a perfect spot to rest,” he jestered, squeezing her thighs. “Don't you agree, general?”

“Yes, commander,” bemused the Jedi Master, finding his touch rather ticklish. “We managed to find a good spot for us to rest and have a little privacy from the rest.”

He raised one eyebrow at her reply, before realising that he addressed her in a formal tone, just like how it was during the war. “My apologies, Aayla. I swear to the Maker that it was a slip of my tongue.”

“To be honest with you, I still don't mind you calling me general,” she quipped, leaning against the bark of the tree. “After all, I was the one who proposed to you in the first place.”

His smile grew wider as Aayla brought him back to that particular day, one he would never forget. “I still remember that day,” Bly reminisced as he moved his eyes upwards, before gazing at her hazel eyes. “It's as if you got down on your knees yesterday and asked me to be your husband.”

“And you were hesitating to say yes,” she recalled. “It's like you weren't expecting that day to actually come to you.”

“I was overjoyed, but I didn't really know what to say. It's funny that I dreamed of settling down with you when we were secretly together, but yet, my mind went blank when it actually came true.”

Chortling, Aayla slapped her knees and covered her mouth, leaving his cheeks turned red as a beet. “That is completely valid,” she assured him. “Honestly, your feelings that day were valid. It is normal to be nervous about moving on to the next step in life. Believe me, I've been there before and it wasn't easy for me to adapt.”

His eyes widened. “You were jittery before? But you seem so confident and calm all the time.”

“Yeah, it's surprising to see me anxious, but it's normal, you know. Everyone goes through that when they have to step out of their comfort zone. I felt the same way as you did when I decided to marry you.”

“So, how did you cope with your overwhelming doubts?” he asked, leaning closer to her. “Like, what is your secret?”

Aayla took a deep breath as she felt his warmth and gazed at his burnt cocoa eyes, ready to pull him into the other side of her mind. “When I'm in doubt, when my inner voice tells me that it is impossible to do something, when I feel like I'm never going to make it through my obstacles in front of me, I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I clear my mind, I remind myself of all the blessings that I have with me and my own strength. That's how I cope with my doubts.”

What an amazing woman, Bly praised, when he heard her smooth voice in his ears. I envy her for sharing her vulnerable side with me. She is as courageous as a lioness on a golden throne. “So what are your blessings in life so far?” he wondered, gazing at the cloudless, azure sky.

Aayla tilted her head upwards as she hummed softly, before shifting her eyes towards him. “Besides surviving the war and getting a chance to see the beauty of life, I am blessed that you have become part of my life. I will never regret meeting you on Kamino, I am glad to see you develop into a better version of yourself, and I am proud to call you my loving, sweet, husband. So thank you, Bly, for choosing to stay with me.”

For a moment, he was speechless. In his mind, he desperately searched for a word that would go well with hers, but for some reason, it was empty. He felt frantic and blamed himself for always keeping quiet in the tender moments with his wife, but then, he remembered every single word she told her, about how she overcame her doubts. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I clear my mind, I remind myself of all the blessings that I have with me and my own strength.

And when he did so, the words that he wanted to spill to her finally popped up in his mind. “Aayla,” he finally spoke, after a few minutes of silence between them. “When I first met you, I only saw you as my superior. Nothing more, nothing less. But then, you sparked a couple of conversations between us, and wow, I actually felt something for you. I mean, I didn't think much about it, though, but as time went by, as battles got brutal and as we spent more time hopping from one planet to another, I realized that I loved you so much. I accepted your flaws, I commend your strength, I acknowledged your quirks, and yeah, I adored your beauty but you know what I loved most about you?”

“What is it, Bly?”

“I cherished your heart. Your valiant, compassionate, heart. That's what attracted me to you in the first place. And you know what? I never regret choosing to love you as my partner, as my confidant, and as my plucky, unfaltering wife.”

As they let their lips brush together, Aayla stood up and dragged Bly for a swim in the shallow part of the ocean, underneath the rosy sunlight. Like their love, the waves flowed with the rhythm as they lived and laughed together, creating everlasting memories on their first day of their honeymoon.

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scarletred79 · 3 years ago

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Anti-Social Artist (Glamrock Freddy x Fem Reader) Chapter 4: Restless Sleepover Pt. 1

For the tremendous amount of time I spent at the Pizza Plex, I always wanted to meet the beloved Sun and Moon. It wasn't that I was obsessed with them, to say the least. Their upgrade from permanent smiles to numerous expressions made them more attractive due to their personalities. After Aaron told me the news about their faceplates and mechanics being changed, it gave me joy. It didn't happen that long ago, and it was just recently, and the change was so worth the wait.

Since I wandered the building alone, exploring, speaking to the two-wheeled bots to make sure they were okay, I would come across the Daycare once or twice after doing my usual route. It upset me to see them struggling behind that permanent grin every day. Yet, I noticed they looked out for each other whenever the little rascals did their own thing. Shoulder pats, holding hands, hugs of endearment, and my favorite gesture of theirs was resting their foreheads against each other, almost like they were reminding themselves that they were there, connected, inseparable, together.

Their relationship was so soft and full of adoration, making me sometimes tear up at the sight. And the reason why I kept checking up on Sun and Moon was that they barely got enough credit for their hard work. They put up with some parents who treated them like objects or emotionless machines, constant bickering of some naughty children, and harassment from now-fired technicians. Luckily they had the right to ban them from the Daycare.

In my head, a part of me wanted to reach out and give them the comfort they deserved, but the other felt terrified to invade and ruin everything. I knew that I was kind and patient, but the reality was that not everyone could like you was the problem that kept filling my anxiety. But, what mattered to me was that as long as everyone was okay, I would be happy.

So, to thank them for their hard work, I customized a pair of the Daycare attendants' plushies. Sewing a long-sleeve denim blue button-up shirt decorated with crescent moons and suns of different styles. Underneath, there was a black turtleneck, replacing Sun's poofy pants with brown pants adorned with a caramel brown belt.

As for Moon, I did the same, except his shirt was black and unbuttoned.

I left their jester shoes but changed their color to gold for Sun and silver for Moon.

And now they resided in my go-bag and some of my belongings for the sleepover. They were enveloped in tissue paper inside a cardboard box, covered in the space-themed present wrapping. Although unnecessary, I used most of my break time hours to customize the plushies, and I wanted them to be safe without being damaged. It was all about indirect communication for the Daycare attendants to know that I made their gifts willingly.

I couldn't help contain my excitement and jazz my hands repeatedly to stimulate myself. Thank goodness Freddy was outside my door to not witness my fangirling overload. My little friend, the tiny music man, did a little spin on the ground to mimic my hand movements. I always appreciated his support immensely. "It's happening! I'm finally going to meet them, buddy!"

.- -. -.. / .- .-.. .-.. / .. - / - --- --- -.- / .-- .- ... / -.-- --- ..- / - --- / --. . - / ... .. -.-. -.-

(And all it took was you to get sick)

"I mean, yeah, you're not wrong. Not the best way to go, but at least it's happening, right? I'm living the moment, my time to shine, or whatever way I should put it. My anxiety won't stop me from running away again, not today. I'm progressing to socialize with others, right?"

(Slow and steady wins the race!)

I kneeled down and picked the little animatronic for him to attach himself to my back. "As patient as a turtle and not as cocky as the rabbit."

I grabbed my go-bag and left my studio to join Freddy on our way to the Daycare.

It was a quiet walk. The bright lights were dimmed enough, so it wasn't so intense while some shops or others were shut.

The silence was comforting, ignoring the 80s soundtrack on repeat. Security and cleaning bots were doing their own thing, their big eyes staring emotionless. I couldn't help but gently head-pat them. I wasn't sure why, but it felt necessary to give them comfort. Despite them not being as sentient as the Glamrocks. They did display some sort of emotion within their code. It wasn't visible to the naked eye, but I could feel it somehow.

"I'm surprised you happen to be the only human who treats the other robots kindly," Freddy commented.

As we walked, I looked at him with what I imagined I was expressing my confused look and not my usual resting bitch face, "What do you mean by that?"

"Well, on a day-to-day basis, I barely see anyone treat them like people, or like us really. But, you, you treat them as equals. Like the rest of us. Why?"

'Oh boy, how do I put this without bringing up personal inquiries'

I tapped my fingers together, playing a specific beat to a song in my mind. I let my feet lead themselves as I turned to look at the ceiling, following the pattern to help me focus. "Because I see myself in them. They're here every day, doing what they're programmed to do. And people take one good look at them and think they're nothing but tin cans with wires and codes." Tiny music man beeped a happy tune while resting its chin on my head affectionately.

I smiled, "People judge on appearances and actions. Rely on what they see, but not on what cannot be seen. These robots are more than what you see on the outside, and I can understand that from their view. They deserve better than the treatment they get."

I waited for his response, but all I heard was silence. I looked down to my side, and Freddy was no longer next to me. He was just a few steps back, staring at me, eyes agape, glowing automatically to illuminate the path.

I halted my tracks, "Freddy? Are you alright? You look shellshocked." My voice lazed with concern, seemed to have snapped him out of his trance.

"O-oh! Forgive me. I was just... amazed at how sincere your words were. I've never met someone as kind as you besides Mr. Beckett. It's... " he took a second to what looked like catching his breath, "it's admiring."

My nervous laughter and avoiding gaze made me do a little jazz hands movement to settle down. It was one of the sweetest things someone had ever told me for as long as I could remember. "It is? That's, um... good! Yeah, that's good, I guess? Thank you, that's so lovely of you to say."

He took a step forward and reached out to me but didn't touch me, not knowing what was happening. "Are you alright, (y/n)? You're shaking."

I kept my gaze low while moving my hands faster, slightly overwhelmed by the boost of serotonin. "I'm fine! It's just that it's been a while since someone other than Aaron has said something this nice to me. I'm just, um... I'm lemon yellow!"

'This is already embarrassing enough. I need to keep moving. I'm not used to this. This is too much!'

I turned back around and squealed when I noticed that the giant doors to the Daycare were just a few feet away from me. "Oh my gosh, it's right there!" I squealed louder before jogging the rest towards it, like a child about to meet their idol on a school trip.

My excitement couldn't settle, so I gently knocked while spinning slowly in circles. It was finally happening! After so long of watching and admiring from afar but not in a stalker-type manner, my heart couldn't hold the pure joy and contentment. It made me forget about my aching head and limbs, like the aftermath of drinking a good cup of cappuccino.

A few minutes went by before a cheery tone replied from the other side.

"Who is it??"

Freddy didn't question me, thankfully. Instead, he approached next to me and replied, "Hey Sundrop, I brought someone for you to meet!"

He then stepped back behind me, eyeing my reaction as I listened to the jingles of bells approaching. Almost like having eyes on the back of my head, I almost shivered, knowing he was staring me down like before, but the atmosphere wasn't as tense. Ironic how my spider buddy was attached to me and was probably looking behind us like a feature to keep my anxiety low.

I had a habit of always looking at what felt like something was watching me, yet whatever it was didn't feel familiar. My gut kept telling me it was shady, or worse... harmful.

Of course, it could've been anything but that. Although my intuition never let me down before, so it wasn't something I could let go of that quickly. It did drive me insane on my bad days, the type of days where it felt like I wouldn't hesitate to beat someone if they said something to tick me off.

As a warning to my surroundings, I would hum a tune with some lyrics to let people know I was wary of things.

"Ho, ho, ho! A new friend??"

Music Man beeped a happy tune in response to his joyous mood, causing the bubbly animatronic to gasp dramatically behind the closed doors. "Two new friends?? I'll be there in just a sparkle!!"

The amount of what seemed to be pushing and stacking back and forth couldn't cover his murmurs of what I could make out to be him saying, 'Clean-up, clean-up, clean-up! Oh, so so messy! We have guests!'

My heart began to melt at the thought of him stressing over messes. I felt terrible for him trying to keep the place spotless, but it was such an adorable sight in my mind.

"Moonie! Can you go greet our new friends, please? I won't be long, promise!"

Moondrop's response felt distant like I was listening from the other end of a tunnel. All I could make out was, 'mean staff.' Probably the end of a sentence I couldn't decipher.

Out of instinct, I went to scratch my head, but it was my friend's little metallic hat. I could feel his little whirrs coming from his voice box, like a purring kitten.

... ..- -.-. .... / --. . -. - .-.. . / .... .- -. -.. ... -.-.--

(Such gentle hands!)

He turned his head to get more of those mild scratches on one side of his face, whirring a little louder. The vibrations sending through my skull made me feel ticklish, and I laughed.

One of the doors slowly opened as it let out a little squeak. Freddy's eyes lit the clear clawed hands grasping the wood. The tall dark-themed jester animatronic grinning, red glowing eyes peeked at my fragile state. "My, my, who do we have here?" Moondrops grumbling voice left me starstruck.

He bent down to my level and tilted his head, eyeing me up and down. I could feel the whirring from his form, sounding like a muted scanner. It reminded me of the sounds the regular robots around the plex did whenever I first came across them. The sounds of a scanner related to a security protocol to make sure the person's details were already in the system.

"(Y/f/n y/l/n), Illustrator, sculptor, graphic designer, and textile artist." He mumbled in a thinking tone.

'Wait, I thought Illustration was the only thing added to my background.'

"So, you're the one who made the lovely merchandise of both Sun and I. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, and we've heard great things about you from what Beckett told us." Tiny floating star LEDs floated in his eyes as he spoke. Talk about starstruck.

I clapped my hands gently behind me and swayed side to side like an excited toddler, "Pleasure's all mine! It's an honor to finally meet you, Moondrop. I'm a huge fan!"

"Oh-ho-ho, I like you already. Such kind, shiny starlight." He lowered his volume and closed his eyes halfway. Little clicks could be heard within his voice box.

I recognized the clicking effect from past experiences with Tiny Music Man, but these sounded more paced and lower-pitched. I couldn't understand the emotion behind the noise, but I replied with high-pitched clicks. In other words, I made happy noises within animatronic norms.

..-. . . .-.. .. -. --. / -... . - - . .-. / .- .-.. .-. . .- -.. -.-- --..-- / .... ..- .... ..--..

(Feeling better already, huh?)

"I'm only being nice..." I mumbled, embarrassed.

"Proficient, clever, and captivating. Looks like Beckett was right of thinking highly of you after all." Moon interrupted before looking up at Freddy, who looked like he was about to say something.

"I apologize to intrude on the introductions, but we're here because (y/n) hasn't been taking proper care of herself and needs time to rest. This is why she's staying with both you and Sun. For the next two weeks, if you two are alright with that?"

"You do look ill starlight. What are (y/n)'s symptoms? Excluding the head bruise, might I add."

"14 days of malnourishment."

"TWO WEEKS?!" The voice of the light-themed animatronic pierced through the Daycare immediately after the end of the bear's sentence.

#scarletred79 writes

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artificialqueens · 4 years ago

Text

Maybe You're My Enemy (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega

a/n: hey, hi, hello! welcome to the first canon compliant thing i have written since 2017, i am *~ petrified! ~* . i had to write something to fix these two though after the events of episode 8 because i just love them dearly (and the fact in the subsequent episode Lawrence just dropped in the fact they’d shared a bed didn’t help this at all). thank you so much to @purecamp for reading it over and reassuring me it’s not a heap of shit (so if it turns out that it is then just blame her xo). also the song it’s set to is enemy by Charli XCX in case u want to get the immersive vibes!

fic summary: On one side of Scotland, Lawrence disappears from social media. On the other, Ellie reflects.

***

They say, “Keep your friends close”

But you’re closer, I love when you’re here

I’m so far away sometimes, I’m distant, yeah

The sky is grey. The clouds are grey. The stagnant water of the quay is grey, and so’s the metal rail that Ellie’s holding on to as he narrows his eyes, tries to stop the wind from hitting them and making him tear up.

As if the wind would be the only reason.

He brings his gaze into focus on the HMS Unicorn, sat in the water in front of him like some massive whale that’s been planted in a bathtub. It’s a fucking ugly ship; a glorified tugboat on steroids with a big bowsprit sticking out at the front all out of place, but he likes the little bust of the once-white unicorn that sticks out from under it. Ellie remembers getting brought here for a school trip in Primary 3, pointing to the unicorn all excited and getting laughed at by the boys in his class that he knew were going to grow up to be the ones that gave the teachers lip and got suspended in high school.

He remembers that Bryce made up the fact that one of the boys had “said the f word” in the gift shop later that day, just so Ellie could have the satisfaction of watching them get screamed at by their teacher. Ellie still fucking loves him for that.

Ellie thinks the unicorn is out of place in all this grey. He remembers the time he did his unicorn mix when he opened for Willam, how nervous he’d been and messaging Lawrence about it and getting a “this you coming out to me as a furry?” in return which made him laugh and forget why he’d even been nervous in the first place. He can’t help the smile the memory brings to his face even if he wants to.

And he wants to.

Lawrence always could make him smile, get a laugh from him even when he didn’t feel like it. He remembers with a blow to his heart what Lawrence had said on the show- “you’re not terribly funny? Like you don’t have…zinger-y punchlines?” - and how Tia had laughed and Ellie had wanted so much to bite back but didn’t.

Because he always could draw a laugh out of Lawrence. Granted he was usually laughing at him rather than with him, but Ellie could still put a smile on his face by acting dumb, saying things that Lawrence would subsequently repeat in a screech of disbelief that would always make Ellie laugh harder anyway. He’d always self-impose ridiculous dares on himself in front of him: in Hive, “here, what if I did the entire shot rainbow?”, in Nandos, “d’you think I could do the wing roulette by myself?”, in Glasgow on the Subway on the way to a gig, “dare me to get off at Ibrox and I’ll go to the Louden Tavern dressed like this?”. Ellie had been used to being the class clown for Lawrence, the jester for the queen.

Or maybe just a fool.

Ellie’s always hated the colour grey.

You might help me, intimacy

I’ll admit, I’m scared

Maybe, maybe you can reach me, yeah

His surroundings turn to silver as he shoves his hands in his pockets, heads towards the V&A museum that’s still glinting despite the lack of sunlight. He’s stopped by two teenage girls that are polite and shy and squeaky-voiced as they ask for a photo- he supposes that’s what he gets when he goes out wearing the pink and purple fur coat with the hearts on it. Ellie forces a smile and thanks them for supporting him and they tell him he’s their favourite in return.

After they walk away he thinks they must have been lying, but then he feels the frown etch itself onto his face as he shakes his head. The self-doubt is a hangover from filming that he needs to shake off.

He squints at the museum as he walks past, fleetingly thinks about going in and looking at some of the old fashion to cheer him up. A’whora’s promised to go with him when he’s eventually allowed to come up to visit, and Ellie snorts at the idea of the fashion queen of the London scene in Dundee. The thought of A’whora’s reaction to the Wellgate shopping centre- the Credit Union, the B&M, the Jobcentre Plus- puts the first smile on his face he’s had in days.

Lawrence had gone round the museum with him too, when Ellie had dropped him off at the train station the day after a gig and they’d been killing time. It had been weird to just dick about like that together the first few times. Weird the fact there was no makeup, glue and wigs, no alcohol or gay anthems to yell over. Just two boys walking around a museum together. Like a date.

Ellie makes a face before he even realises. Not this.

The first time they did all of it together was weird. Just like everything Lawrence had written. Nandos, cinema, staying at his. That last one especially. Ellie can still remember the way he’d stared up at the bumpy ceiling from his position on Lawrence’s couch in the pitch dark, street lamps from outside casting shadows through the blinds. The room was too cold and the blanket was too small and he hadn’t slept a wink but he’d still do it all over again.

The first time they’d both lain on Lawrence’s bed the morning after the night before, cracking up at Scottish You Laugh You Lose compilations on Youtube and Ellie being unable to help the tears that streamed down his face at Lawrence imitating “big shoe, big shoeeee!”. The way they’d been close and the way their arms had touched and the way Ellie had felt ridiculous for the way his heart was hammering. Just a friend.

The first time they’d found each other under the dark lights of CCs when they’d both been through in Edinburgh to support Alice by chance. The way Ellie’s heart had lit up like a firework when he saw him. The way they’d laced their fingers together without even having to ask permission first, the way everything just seemed to be as simple as tequila rose shots and pink lights and leaning against the wall as they smoked outside.

The way everything else had just happened so easily.

Ellie squeezes his eyes shut before he can realise what he’s doing. The memories have forced their way in, kicked down a door in his head that he’d been sure he’d bolted shut.

He needs to change the locks.

Maybe you’re my enemy

Now I’ve finally let you come a little close to me,

Maybe you’re my enemy

You’re the only one who knows the way I’m really feelin’

Ellie is in the same Stitch onesie he’s been shrugging on since the last episode aired. It stinks. He’s joked to A'whora that he can probably smell him through the phone, and A'whora’s asked if he just sweats out Mango Loco Monster. Ellie makes some joke about wringing out his clothes into a pint glass if he did, which makes A'whora retch on camera.

He’s glad they made up at least. They didn’t have too much of a choice, to be fair. Apart from the way they get on so well, their bond and their friendship, A'whora’s the only other one who knows what it’s like to be in Ellie’s situation.

Except A'whora never stabbed Tayce in the back.

“You should talk to him,” A'whora insists, bringing the whole sorry situation up in a pause where Ellie must have looked as if he was about to make a vodka bleach mixer.

Ellie looks pointedly back at him through the screen. “I’ve been telling you to talk to Tayce for months.”

He watches A'whora pull an awkward face and he’s satisfied he’s hit a nerve. “That’s different though. You and Lawrence don’t live together.”

“Yeah. Least I wasn’t stupid enough to move in with someone I fancied, how’s that going for you?”

A'whora splutters a laugh that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. Ellie feels guilty all over again. He feels like that’s his default these days. “Sorry, chick, I shouldn’t have-”

“No, I mean. It’s fine. Just have to act as if I’m not in love with the bitch every time I’m around her, it’s not hard,” A'whora deadpans.

Ellie frowns. “You know Tayce feels the same. Everyone knows it.”

“No I don’t,” A'whora says instantly back to him, shaking his head and dissolving momentarily into pixels. “Besides, even if she did, like…it’s easier if she didn’t, y'know? All this…publicity, every move getting analysed. It’s easier to just…not.”

Ellie narrows his eyes. “You’re doing a smashing job making the case for me and Lawrence.”

“You know what I mean! You don’t get people asking where Lawrence is in every live you do. You don’t get people going through the show fucking…frame by frame and then editing every time you breathe around each other together and setting it to a bloody Little Mix song.”

Ellie bursts out laughing and starts singing Black Magic down the phone to him, which makes A'whora look pointedly at him before clearly being unable to hold it for long and instead laughing with him.

Both their laughter dies down and Ellie watches as A'whora smiles sadly, sincerely. “He’s worth the risk, Els.”

“Oh my God, prison. Who the fuck are you, Nicholas Sparks?”

The reference flies over A'whora's head and Ellie starts explaining the plot of the A Walk to Remember, steering the conversation out of the waters it had become marooned in, the captain of his very own HMS Unicorn.

He feels more like he’s aboard the Titanic with every message that goes unread.

Now it’s really clear to me

You could do a little damage, you could cut me deeper

“It didn’t get you a badge though, was it worth it?”

Ellie’s asked himself that every day since the episode aired. Since he made the decision, pretty much. Financially? Yes it was. It’s pretty well-known at this point in the grand scheme of Drag Race that with each week you’re on the likelihood of securing more bookings is increased, and now with his slot at Drag Fest he feels as if he’s hit the jackpot.

Everything else? Not so much.

Ellie still feels his stomach drop if he thinks enough about that untucked, which he does all the time. Too much, in fact. The aggression in Lawrence’s voice which Ellie knew all too well was a manifestation of hurt on so many levels. The way Lawrence chose the conflict that Ellie wished he could have avoided. The way Lawrence left his feelings bare while Ellie couldn’t trust himself to do the same in case he said something he might regret.

The fact Lawrence had thought Ellie had set him up to fail was maybe what hurt the most, though. Ellie had wanted to ask him how he thought he’d be able to do that after everything they’d been through together. He’d tried to tell him he didn’t think it was possible for him to fail at something he shines at. He’d wanted to grab Lawrence’s pink fucking headpiece and bash him over the head with it until he realised that he’s Lawrence fucking Chaney, he is the Scottish drag queen. Lawrence is the one who will say something at a gig one week and it’ll be common drag parlance across the country by the next. Lawrence is the one getting booked by the BBC Social to make educational videos. Lawrence is the one on posters across Glasgow, for fuck’s sake.

Ellie might not have been thinking about the worst case scenario in that moment, but only because he genuinely didn’t think there could be one.

After all, he’d had his opportunity to sabotage Lawrence. Ellie remembers the first day when the producers had wanted to set up the Scottish queen rivalry, asked for something shady they could use as a soundbite. The way he’d sought out Lawrence on a smoke break and told him about the situation and reassured him that he hadn’t given them anything, and the way Lawrence had just smiled back at him, softly and genuinely, and told Ellie he’d done the same. The way they’d minutely linked pinkies together before breaking them and walking back inside as if they’d barely shared so much as a glance, neither of them wanting to draw any suspicion their way.

And he could’ve been harsher in that untucked if he’d wanted. Could’ve said how for someone that was meant to care so much about friendship and sisterhood, Lawrence had been doing a great job shitting on him from a great height about his lack of challenge wins and his run on the show.

But he didn’t, because…well. He knows why.

Because the knowledge that he’d hurt Lawrence and lost his trust had done more damage than any joke Lawrence made at his expense could ever do.

Ellie goes live on the Tuesday afternoon. A comment on the chat reads, “are u A’whora and Lawrence still friends???”

“Yeah, me and A’whora are still friends!” Ellie bats the comment away with a fake smile.

He’ll blame his lack of comprehension skills if he’s asked about it.

I feel guilty, I feel nervous, I feel certain now

Maybe, maybe you can reach me

He doesn’t know what possesses him to do it.

Maybe it’s when he wakes up on Friday and Lawrence’s Twitter isn’t loading. Maybe it’s when he reads the other Scottish girls condemning the fans, the word fatphobia leaping out, grabbing Ellie’s heart and wrenching it tight.

Surely not this?

Ellie searches Twitter and what he finds makes him feel ill. He doesn’t know what he had expected- he’d known the frantic tweet urging the fans to be kind that he’d typed out before he went to sleep hadn’t exactly been going to create world peace overnight- but he hadn’t expected any of this. Everyone loves Lawrence, surely.

Although perhaps he’s just talking from experience.

Maybe it’s when he shoots Lawrence a message that goes unopened. In all honesty Ellie doesn’t blame him. A flimsy sentiment about hoping he’s okay that clocks in at under 250 characters isn’t going to cut it, and he’s grateful when Bimini, with all their empathy and ability to read a situation as clear as day, texts him and tells him that Lawrence has replied to them and he’s…well, he’s managing.

Maybe it’s when Ellie goes live with A’whora and he manages to mention Lawrence entirely too many times. A cry for attention or an old habit that’s dying hard? He can’t tell. Perhaps it’s both.

It’s definitely got something to do with the Facebook post.

Whatever it is, Ellie finds himself stuffing any old random items of clothing in a backpack and hoping it makes an outfit, shoving the spare key into the soil of the plant pot outside his front door and texting Anne to tell her where it is in case…fuck knows, the flat goes on fire while he’s away or something. He looks up the train times as he’s on his way to the station; a terrible decision, really, as when he’s still fifteen minutes away he discovers there’s one in ten. Somehow he manages to make it to the station with just a minute to spare and his heart lifts to find that the ticket barriers are open, so he dashes through them and hurtles onto the train that’s waiting at the platform. He catches his breath as he slumps into a table seat, having to take his mask off for a couple of seconds just so he can breathe properly. The way his heart is going at the rate the train’s about to isn’t helping.

The chimes of the train announcement cut through his attempts at slowing his heart down, and the little robotic woman’s voice confirms that his ridiculous, spur-of-the-moment decision is actually happening.

“This is Dundee. This train is for Glasgow Queen Street.”

Because this is all so last minute, but he needs to see Lawrence. He’s apologised probably ten times by now but he knows he needs to make it eleven. He knows (he hopes) that Lawrence needs that eleventh time too. He knows that Lawrence needs Ellie’s persistence, knows that it’s all just an attempt at self-preservation. Lawrence’s attempts at shutting Ellie out are just inviting him to bring a battering ram. At least, he hopes. But like A’whora had said…he’s worth the risk.

The train starts moving, and even if he wanted to back out now he couldn’t.

So cold at the surface, I’m scared of nothin’

Underneath, I’m nervous

Can you reach me?

Ellie waits for the subway at Buchanan Street and his glazed-over eyes focus on a massive poster of Lawrence on the platform opposite. He briefly considers throwing himself under the next train.

The journey down had passed somehow in the blink of an eye and also agonisingly slowly. Too much time to sit and stare out of the window but not enough time to figure out what he’s going to say. He still doesn’t know. He’d said it all those months ago, he’s said it through texts and DMs. This time feels different, though. This time is different. This time there’s no cameras or runners or pink tables, or distance between them or tension at the fact nothing had aired yet.

It’s going to be the pair of them and Lawrence’s flat. Just like it’s been so many times before.

Ellie thinks he’ll probably just open his mouth, say whatever gets there first and hope it hits the right notes; a terrible decision arrived upon as a result of the lack of any other option. His mind is a messed up ball of television static, a knotted yarn of white noise that he can’t find the end of. He feels as if it’s made of the noise the train makes as it screams into the station, metal on metal and the low whoosh of the wind through the tunnel and the rickety shaking of the doors as they slide open and people stream off.

He picks up his bag and sinks down into the horrifically patterned upholstery of the seats, settling himself in for the journey. The little metal tin can of a train doesn’t take long to fire through the seven stops before Govan and with each one that passes Ellie can feel his nerves spiking and his mouth growing dry.

What if Lawrence isn’t even in? What if it’s all got too much and he’s gone back to Helensburgh for the foreseeable? Ellie could get a train up there, he supposes; he’s already on this side of the country, although he doesn’t know if Lawrence would appreciate the gesture or call the police on him.

Ellie concludes it would be worth it anyway.

He emerges from the Subway and the grey seems to hit him all over again, seeping into his clothes and forcing him to fight through the sadness that hits him like a wave. There’s a little beam of sunshine fighting to escape the clouds though, and Ellie hopes it’s some form of pathetic fallacy. Or whatever that one about the weather matching your feelings was. Fucked if he ever paid attention in Nat 5 English.

The streets of red brick tenements feel like pens of hostility as he passes windows that serve as frames for Union Jacks and Red Hand of Ulster flags. Even being raised in a Christian household doesn’t equip him to identify with this form of religion; where the disciples are football players and the gods are flags and the hymns are about killing Catholics. Ellie has always worried about Lawrence living here, told him as much, but he’s always been met with a bark of a laugh back and some comment about how he’s only saying that because he’s lived such a sheltered little life in Dundee and wouldn’t last five minutes trying to inhabit Glasgow and all its cheerful sectarianism. Lawrence has always had a very blythe attitude to the whole thing, and Ellie remembers when he’d held his hand on the way back from the Subway in full drag after a gig like it was nothing, the way some dick in an orange and blue scarf had shouted at them from across the street and Lawrence had just yelled back with an “awrite, babes?” as if he had a death wish.

Which is what makes this whole thing so grim. The Lawrence who drunkenly and sarcastically greets bigots at three in the morning from across the street doesn’t marry up with the Lawrence that’s holed up in his flat in the face of negativity. Ellie supposes that one homophobic Rangers fan is one homophobic Rangers fan, but Twitter can seem like the whole world’s population, and if Lawrence thinks the world hates him just because he’s reacted to something that was Ellie’s fault…

He feels his gut wrench.

Ellie turns into Lawrence’s street and feels ill. He could always go home. Turn and walk back to the Subway, train back to Queen Street, back to Dundee, back to the flat. Like nothing had ever happened. Like he hadn’t even consciously made the decision, like it was all a dream.

He sleepwalks to Lawrence’s close door anyway, just like he knew he would.

His hand shakes as he presses the buzzer too hard, and the panic rises in his throat as the seconds pass agonisingly slowly. When there’s a crackle from the intercom, he freezes in fear.

“Hello?”

It’s Kiko’s voice. Of course his flatmate had to be the one to answer, drag out the humiliation of the whole thing. Ellie can hear the shake to his voice as he replies.

“Hey, it’s Ellie.”

“…Ellie?”

He chooses to ignore the disbelief, acts as if it’s normal for him to have travelled across the country to turn up on Lawrence’s doorstep in the middle of a pandemic when there’s a travel ban in place. He’s considering this essential travel anyway.

“Is Lawrence in at all?”

Kiko, for her part, seems to pick up on the way the whole visit is masquerading as routine. In the split second before she replies, Ellie finds himself holding his breath. He steels himself, prepares for a “no, he’s actually…”, to send him back to Dundee like a crumpled sheet of paper tossed into a bin.

So Ellie feels like his throat’s going to close up when Kiko replies down the intercom. “Yeah, two secs. I’ll buzz you up.”

The dread settles in his gut like a weight as the buzzer rings out into the street, harsh and loud and doing nothing for Ellie’s derailed train of thought. He pushes on the door, takes his first step into the close and the echo seems to hit him deep in his chest. He finds himself wishing Lawrence lives four up but he’s only on the first floor, and as Ellie puts his foot on the first step of the staircase he keeps his eyes trained on the stairs because he knows the moment he looks up he’s going to see somebody standing there holding the door open and even though he’s had hours to prepare himself, weeks even, he’s not ready for that in the slightest.

And when he finally brings his gaze onto the front door with four steps to go, he’s not ready for the way the sight of Lawrence almost knocks him straight back down again. He’s slumped against the doorframe and has very clearly not slept- since when, Ellie couldn’t guess. A black hoodie is swamping him and a pair of navy sweatpants are doing the same, making him seem smaller than he already is. The sight of his hair up in that tiny bun hurts Ellie’s heart because it makes him want to smile, reminds him of the Lawrence he’d dick about in the workroom and the smoking area and the hotel corridors with before it all went so wrong. His arms are folded and he’s looking at the tiles on the landing floor until Ellie reaches the doorway, shifts awkwardly.

“Hi.”

Lawrence doesn’t quite meet his eyes. It’s a minute detail that hurts Ellie more than he would have expected. He doesn’t reply for a second, then seems to relent. “Hey.”

Another pause. The atmosphere makes Ellie wish he’d worn a thicker jacket.

“You’re not meant to be here, you know. Wee Nicky’s probably had snipers trained on you since you got off the train,” Lawrence says, delivering the quip with a bitter, barbed edge that makes Ellie think it’s less of a joke and more wishful thinking.

“Wouldn’t be any less than I deserve, I’m sure,” Ellie smiles sadly, unable to make it meet his eyes. Lawrence’s expression remains unimpressed.

“So why are you here, then,” he not so much as demands an answer but disinterestedly inquires. Ellie bites his bottom lip before he replies, as if he’s forcing himself to make sure his words are perfect.

“I just came down because…well, I wanted to see how you were. I know the past week must have been shit for you.”

Lawrence raises his eyebrows, his eyes growing wide as if to really drive home to Ellie how much of an understatement he already knows he’s made. “Yeah.”

Ellie sighs, wanting desperately to get the next part right. “And I felt like I needed to say I’m sorry. Y’know, in front of you.”

“You said sorry back when we filmed. We’re over it, it’s fine,” Lawrence says flatly, conveying that everything is not fine.

“It’s not fine, though. I wouldn’t have come down if it was fine. Things haven’t been fine since that day, and like…I miss you, Lawrence, I don’t want to lose you as a friend, or as a sister, or as…” Ellie stumbles, looking to the floor as he tries to articulate the other facet of their relationship. “…whatever else we are. Whatever else we were. I’m sorry for fucking everything up.”

There’s a silence in which the pair of them freeze and hold their breath. Time could very well be standing still for all Ellie knows. He immediately regrets bringing up all of…that. He should’ve kept it to friendship, shouldn’t have added anything on. Before he can overthink any more or begin to backtrack, a small sigh from Lawrence makes him look up.

“I thought you hated me,” he says. His voice is small and the words are unexpected. There’s so much Ellie could say in response. He settles on a joke.

“No, I think you’re a cunt. There’s a difference,” Ellie smiles tightly, the joke tentative. The snort it gets from Lawrence makes his smile grow without him being able to help it. “Was that a good one? Thought I was the unfunniest person on the planet?”

“We weren’t talking about your Bake Off improv,” Lawrence raises his eyebrows as he smirks, and Ellie fakes a wounded laugh.

“Shady cow.”

“I’m sorry,” Lawrence says out of nowhere, his smile gone all of a sudden.

Ellie tries to drag the joke out a little longer, hold onto the sparks they’ve just created. “Nah, it was shit, you’re right.”

“No, Ellie…” Lawrence shakes his head, worrying his lip between his teeth a little. “I am sorry.”

Ellie feels the panic wash over him when he clocks the glisten in his eyes. “It’s fine, girl.”

“It’s not fine. I was a dick to you so many times, no fuckin’ wonder I thought you’d set me up. I would too if I had somebody talking down to me like I did to you,” Lawrence says gravely. His gaze is fixed on his floor and just as Ellie is about to speak he catches sight of two tears that fall onto the red carpet, the darkness akin to blood. His horror grows as Lawrence finally snaps his head up, tears shining in his eyes as he sighs helplessly in a shaky voice. “You’re amazing, Ellie, you’re such a talent, and…fuck, I missed you.”

His words mean more to him that Ellie had expected them to. He doesn’t want to let that show, though, because that’s too much, that means too much for the situation just now and he can deal with that realisation at a later date. For now, Ellie points at him in mock-accusation. “Hey listen, I’m the one that got the train down to come and make a big speech to you and say sorry. Buy your own damn train ticket for that.”

Lawrence’s voice is thick with tears as he lets out a short laugh. “Sorry.”

“Wee bitch. Always have to make everything about you,” Ellie rolls his eyes, getting another teary laugh out of Lawrence and raising his hopes that maybe they’ll be okay.

And then the banks break and Lawrence makes a little choked-up noise, a sob that’s not fully a sob. His eyes meet Ellie’s and they’re full of so much sadness and regret that just looking at them creates a crack in Ellie’s heart, one that matches the crack in Lawrence’s voice as he speaks again.

“This has all been shit to do without you.”

Ellie doesn’t think before opening his arms out, shaking his head affectionately. “Don’t be silly. C’mere.”

When Lawrence immediately opens out his own and they meet each other in the middle and hug tightly, Ellie feels like a balloon that’s been let go and is floating up to the sky.

The clouds aren’t grey.

The way they’re holding each other brings back too many memories. Seeing each other at gigs and feeling butterflies take hold of his stomach. Coming off stage after a number and conveying his pride in him without even having to say a word. Saying goodbye at train stations with disappointment lodging itself in his heart. All the nostalgia makes Ellie want to cry, but he can’t start now. Instead, he breaths a shaky sigh, shakes his head before he speaks.

“You’ve always had me, okay? You’ve always got me. We’ve said sorry now, that’s the end of it. Periodt,” Ellie murmurs against his shoulder, adding on his trademark at the end. The laugh he gets muffled against his chest in return makes him feel lighter.

“I’ve not showered. I definitely stink. You don’t have to keep hugging me, you know.”

“You don’t. I want to,” Ellie says back. He means it.

It’s Lawrence that slides out of the hug first but he’s still standing close as he quickly wipes away his tears, looks Ellie up and down with a smirk on his face. “So where’s your Travelodge, hen?”

Ellie’s sheepish when he makes eye contact with him again, shrugs one strap of the rucksack off before replying. “You know damn well I’ve not booked anywhere.”

“Fuckin’ hell. Right, come on,” Lawrence shakes his head affectionately, stepping back into his hallway and letting Ellie finally cross the threshold to drop his bag like an anchor in the flat. It’s the physical manifestation of the burden finally being lifted off of him, the guilt and the regret melting away in favour of the flutter of his heart and a few small sparks that he wants to put in resin. “I get to choose the film later as reparations. Don’t trust you since you made us watch Cat In The Hat.”

Ellie gives a shocked gasp, genuinely offended. “It’s good!”

“Is it fuck. In fact, just for that I’m going to make you sit through something sci-fi and geeky and you’re gonna hate it,” Lawrence smiles with genuine glee, and Ellie can’t even bring himself to be mad about it. As the pair of them walk through to the living room, Lawrence jumps onto the sofa and fixes Ellie with a look that is clearly meant to be serious but that simultaneously Lawrence can’t commit to and Ellie can’t believe. “You’re sleeping here tonight, by the way.”

Ellie raises his eyebrows as he fakes his agreement, going along with the charade Lawrence is beginning. They both know they’ll end up curled up together on the sofa with neither of them having an explanation for how it’s happened, but at the same time knowing they don’t have to explain themselves. They know that Ellie will end up falling asleep slumped against Lawrence and that he’ll have to gently shake him awake, that he’ll wordlessly offer Ellie a hand to drag him off the couch with and that they’ll go through to Lawrence’s room like always. They know that they’ll wake up tangled together like the sheets and that Ellie will be there for him, that he’ll help Lawrence piece himself back together and they’ll go back to the start. Well, maybe not the start. Perhaps somewhere better.

Ellie keeps his friends close, but Lawrence is something a little bit more. Something a little bit closer.

Baby, you’re my enemy.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ellie diamond #lawrence chaney #ellie x lawrence #a'whora #uk2 #canon compliant #angst #hurt/comfort #song fic #maybe you're my enemy #ortega

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happytsukki · 5 years ago

Text

common sense

k. tsukishima

you were a fool. but only for tsukishima. (f! reader)

a/n: ive been reading the manga and chapters 370+ literally have me bawling, im so emotionally attached. also fun fact you cant get your drivers license in japan till you graduate high school,,big rip for (y/n) and her food.

someone with common sense would’ve ran home to avoid the predicted forecast. they would’ve enjoyed safely arriving home without getting a single drop of rain on their uniform. but you lacked common sense.

the steady beat of raindrops hitting the ground accompanied by a strong gust of wind greeted you as you exited the school. you stood waiting, a bright green umbrella painted with purple triceratops in one hand while you rocked back and forth on your heels.

“what are you still doing here?” a voice suddenly asked, snapping you out of your trance. looking up you locked eyes with tsukishima causing a champagne pink hue to creep onto your cheeks.

“oh, i-uh, knew you didn’t have an umbrella, so i figured i would wait for you and we could walk together,” you beamed. tsukishima rolled his eyes and adjusted his glasses, but you swore you could see the corners of his lips curl up.

you knew tsukishima. you knew he hated the rain and deep down, he appreciated your kind gesture even if he didn’t say it.

he grabbed the umbrella in your hand and opened it outside the safety of the building. he took two steps into the rain before turning around to realize you were still frozen on the steps of karasuno high. there you were, an idiot shivering from head to toe in the cold weather, yet you still had a smile painted across your face.

“are you gonna just stand there or are you actually coming?” he muttered, his eyebrows furrowing in slight confusion.

“coming!!” you cooed before running down the steps and practicing colliding with him as you pressed closer to him under the tiny umbrella. maybe you should’ve packed a bigger umbrella, but you definitely weren’t complaining.

you walked in unison, small drops falling onto your sweater as you could barely fit under the umbrella with the beanpole. you took notice of one hand tucked away in the warmth of his jacket and the other clutching the umbrella for the two of you. and with your warm gloves, you placed a hand over his.

“sorry, your hand seemed a little cold” you blurted out, slightly afraid he would take his hand away in disgust. but he didn’t, he let you hold his hand. you could finally release the breath you were holding and smiled. rainy days never felt good. the sky may have been dark and gloomy, but being with him felt as if it was another spring day, the sun beaming brightly and the birds chirping.

your walk consisted of asking tsukishima about his volleyball club season and him asking about your classes. you wanted to amuse him, to hear his laugh just once, so you told him the story of how you went to school thinking you math test only to find it was actually an english test, receiving a grade no higher than your age.

and miraculously, he laughed. it was subtle and quiet, but it took away your breath and made your heart race.

tsukishima halted, finally arriving at his home. he glanced up at the sky before catching it slowly transform from a color to a baby blue.

“it stopped raining—“ you cut him off midsentence, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him closer before you placed a quick peck on his lips.

“bye!” you shouted as you ran away. leaving poor tsukishima standing there, dumbfounded as to why his heart was beating so fast and why his knees turned into complete jelly.

you liked tsukishima. and luckily, he liked you too.

someone with common sense would’ve finished their homework and took advantage of a night free of worry. they would’ve enjoyed a full eight hours of sleep while dreams danced through their mind. but you lacked common sense.

the kitchen clock read 2:18, you were growing impatient waiting for cookies in the oven. before your crazy attempt to make lunches and treats for the entire karasuno team, you studied for your history test and finished a 10-page essay due the next day.

with your apron stained with all sorts of condiments and food, you glanced at the pile of bento boxes placed on your dining table. each decorated with a name of every player on karasuno’s mens volleyball club, of course including the cutest managers and best coaches.

the lunch box on top, reading my tsukki, my moon made with extra love and care for you boyfriend.

tomorrow was the miyagi prefectural qualifiers and as much as you wanted to be there, you had school. you longed to be in the crowds, screaming for tsukki and karasuno at the top of your lungs. so of course, you felt guilty for not being able to give your support. an alternative? food.

beep beep. the timer of the oven finally went off and you breathed a sigh of relief. you weren’t sure how long you could keep your eyelids open. your tiredness must’ve gotten to your head because without a second thought you opened the oven and reached for the scorching pan.

you spewed a variety of curses quietly in an attempt to not wake your parents, but the pain was intolerable. after taking the cookies out with the opposite hand, throwing them in a container and trying to type out ‘how to deal with burns’ with your pinky while one hand held ice (not a good idea) to the burn— you fell asleep on the couch.

not even 3 hours later, you woke up. oh the things i do for this boy. you shook your head, a smile creeping onto your face just thinking about him. you quickly throw on a hoodie and carefully place the food into a basket attached to your bike.

the sun had barely come up, just peeking from the horizon. it was way too early. riding your bike to karasuno while you rubbed your eyes constantly and yawned nonstop was a challenge. you almost tipped over several times. but once you arrived you were greeted by a horde of “hey it’s y/n!!” but the only thing you could really hear was “y/n what are you doing here?”

“well, good morning to you too, tsukki,” you chirped, taking the food out of your basket and carefully distributing it to everyone.

“wow y/n, you really didn’t have to do this.” daichi said. “but this does look amazing.” sugawara butt in, admiring the cute design. “y/n you’re the best, seriously!!” praised hinata, already shoving a small bite into his mouth for a quick ‘taste.’

when you handed tsukki his, confusion and worry came across his face. “but— look at you y/n. you look terrible.” he spat, reaching over to inspect your face. he titled your chin up and pulled your eyes wide.

“is that what you tell your girlfriend after she spent all night to make you lunch?” you pouted, slightly hurt from how he reacted.

“i think y/n looks pretty, like always.” yamaguchi gushed from afar.

“shut up yamaguchi.” “sorry tsukki!!”

“but you know thats not what i meant. i’m just worried about, you look like you haven’t sleep at all.” he shook his head.

“hey! technically i slept for 3 hours.” you argued, earning a signature tsukishima eye roll from the man himself.

“you’re an idiot, y/n. but thank you.” he muttered and placed a kiss on your forehead. suddenly, coach ukai cut in and yelled for everyone to get in the van. groaning, tsukki squeezed you into a hug.

“sorry i can’t be there, but win for me and i’ll be there next match. i promise” you pouted, adding an extra boost of encouragement for tsukishima. these days, you’d noticed how passionate he’d become about the sport and no words could describe your happiness over this.

after waving bye to the team and wishing them the best of luck, you stood alone in the parking lot. happy and excited for what was to come for the karasuno boys volleyball club. but stupid for thinking you could make it through the rest of your day on the mere 3 hours of sleep.

you were an idiot— a fool, perhaps.

someone might as well hand you a jester hat and shoes, bells included, of course. because you were a fool, for tsukishima kei only.

someone with common sense would’ve followed the sign saying “only players allowed on court.” they would’ve yelled praises of encouragement from the stands and just sent a text. but you lacked common sense.

as soon as you saw red liquid ooze from tsukishima’s hand, you hoped out of your seat and grabbed your belongings without hesitation. oh no. your heart sunk and before yachi could even try to calm you down you were already running.

past the crowds and down the stairs leading to the court. you sprinted towards the karasuno team, completely ignoring the officials yelling at you.

you gently pushed through tsukishima’s teammates and an angry expression reached your face once you met eyes with the boy.

“tsukishima kei, are you stupid?” you cursued at him. his face turns a slight pink as his teammates snicker at your typical girlfriend antics. meanwhile, several tournament officials walked over to check on tsukishima’s condition and kick you off the court since you weren’t a player. but you didn’t care. you took his hurt hand into yours, putting your face closer to examine the extent of his injury.

he winced in pain causing your anger to melt away. “you almost gave me a heart attack, you have no idea how worried i was up th-“ you blab on before tsukishima reassures you.

“y/n i’m still breathing, right? you care about me that much huh?” tsukishima smirked as he tried to hide the pain he felt in his right hand.

“okay lovebirds, why don’t you go to the medical office together and get it checked out? we’re going to need you back on the court, tsukishima.” coach ukai quickly sends the two of you away in hopes of him returning by the fifth set.

akiteru and yachi anxiously follow as you and tsukishima rush to the medical office. they wait outside and the doctor tells you two that only his pinky is discolated and the rest of his fingers are fine, so he can still return but he has to wait for the bleeding to stop. the doctor excuses himself to get more bandages, leaving the two of you alone.

you stand up from your seat to stand in front of tsukishima. his face is serious, clearly still fixated on the game still going on at the moment. you wanted to give him peace but you couldn’t hold in how proud you were.

you go on to explain how amazed you were. “and when you jumped up to block, i knew ushijima had no chance— then BOOM! his spike goes straight down into the floor. i think i broke yachi’s eardums with my screaming. not to mention how hot you looked out there like what the hell??” you gushed, making tsukishima smile amidst his pain.

he pulled you in closer and wrapped his long arms around your torso, tucking his face into the comfort of your neck. like muscle memory, your hand finds its way to his back and began to rub circles.

“you’re really sweaty, tsukki. its kinda gross.” you whisper into his hear making him click his tongue in response. but despite the perspiration dripping down his back, you honestly didn’t mind.

tsukishima pulls away, his eyes wander around your face. his breath hitching at your every feature, especially at how your eyes possessed a unique twinkle that didn’t just resemble stars but the entire galaxy. then he remembers the day he fell in love with you, that day you walked home together in the rain.

“god y/n, you’re crazy you know that, right? but i love you.” he chuckles. “i know.” you proudly state while you try to hide the fact that your heart was physically hurting from how fast it was beating. “and i-“ you sprinkle a dozen kisses all over tsukishima’s face. one for eveything you loved about him.” love you too, kei” you say before pressing your swollen lips against his.

“now go out there and beat shiratorizawa’s ass!”

and that’s exactly what he does.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu writing #haikyuu oneshot #tsukishima #tsukishima kei #tsukishima scenarios #tsukishima imagine #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima fluff #anime scenarios #anime imagines

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