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celestie0 · 11 months ago

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gojo satoru x reader | college au [18+]

kickoff ch.1 gojo satoru sent you a message

ᰔ pairing. college au - soccer player! gojo x film major! reader

ᰔ summary. gojo satoru is the most popular guy on your college campus. he's tall, funny, hot, not to mention he's the most talented soccer forward the school has seen in years. but he's also a frat dude, which puts him in a world very different from your own, as he spends most of his nights partying & drinking while you spend most of yours working on your annoying film major assignments. but when he reaches out to you for a favor, you realize that helping him out might have something in it for you too.

ᰔ warnings/tags. 18+, fem reader, fluff, angst, smut, college au, fraternities, sororities, partying, drinking/alcohol, mentions of weed, romance, jealousy, pining, slow burn, opposites to lovers, friends to lovers, she falls first he falls harder, gojo being an idiot

ᰔ chapter. 1/x (probably 12)

ᰔ words. 1.3k (short one to start off, but the rest are longer)

a/n. welcome to this pilot chapter! this was originally going to be a one-shot but i got way too carried away and ended up planning out a whole series. i hope you enjoy!

nav. masterlist

☾·̩͙꙳ moodboard no.1

♬.*ﾟplaylist

|| 2:13AM Gojo Satoru has requested to follow you

You blink the sleepiness in your eyes away as the harsh light of your phone hits your face. Somewhere in the middle of the crazy dream you were having, you heard your phone incessantly pinging and eventually woke you up to make you realize you forgot to turn the ringer off before going to sleep. Among all the spam email, iCloud storage warnings, and news headliners, there was one notification in particular that had you wondering if you were still dreaming.

“Ugh…y/n, please, turn your phone off,” you heard your roommate Mina mumble in the twin sized bed at the other end of the room as she shuffled her pillow above her head so that it covered both of her ears. You glance out the window of your shared apartment, peering at the pale moonlight, before your tired and heavy eyes travel back to your phone and press on the Instagram notification.

Suspecting this was maybe some prank account, you clicked on the small icon in your inbox that took you to a profile page. Gojo Satoru, Senior at University of Tokyo, Business Major, D1 Soccer #10, SAE. 12k followers, 172 following, 38 posts.

Still thinking you’re dreaming, you accept the follow request and watch as the number on his following increases by one, now 173. Your thumb swipes up on your phone as you take in the square images of his profile. Pictures of him and his friends recreating memes…food that he’s eaten recently…frequent vacation posts in exotic countries…and a whole lot of what seemed to be professionally taken soccer photos of him striking goals and hitting balls with his head in mid air. You have put a lot of effort into your own Instagram photos (despite your modest 464 followers), mostly posting compilation slideshows of your favorite film photos that you’ve taken recently, yet somehow his feed looks much more inviting than yours.

You turn onto your side and continue to look through his photos. 624 comments, 373 comments, 958 comments. Many were from his friends trying to embarrass him, and many others were from girls that probably wanted him to notice them. You noticed he only really replied to comments from his friends.

You knew who he was, of course. Gojo Satoru was one of the most, if not the most, popular guys on your college campus. When you got to college, you thought the whole “social hierarchy” thing would be over but it still seemed like there were certain groups of people that almost everyone knew about, "elite" individuals who other students could only dream of associating with. At UTokyo, the fraternities and sororities practically owned the place so of course Gojo was well-known since he was a member of the school’s most iconic frat, SAE. Not to mention, the school adored its soccer team–undefeated since 2012–and Gojo Satoru was the most talented center forward the division has seen in years.

But as for why he requested to follow you, a film major that doesn’t play any sports and isn’t even in a sorority, well you’re just not sure.

It’s then when you get yet another notification.

“Oh my god, y/n, turn it off!” Mina mumbles into her mattress. You click the side button to turn off the ringer.

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru sent you a message

Your heart starts to beat a bit faster as you quickly slide to your DMs page. You notice three unread conversations from a few of your friends, probably from when they decided to send you their entire explore page, and then you see a little (1) next to your message requests box. When you open it, you see his icon in your inbox. It’s a simple picture of him in his soccer jersey, his smile wide as one of his team members who was mostly cropped out of the photo seemed to be putting him in a headlock. You see the first few words of the message.

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru: Hey, sorry if this is weir…

You’re about to click on it when you stop yourself. It was really late at night and you didn’t know if you wanted to entertain a conversation with this man you knew literally nothing about (at least on a personal level) and weren’t even sure why he was messaging you in the first place. Plus, he would see that you’ve read it and so you would feel anxious to respond. But there was no way to see his full message unless you opened it. Even though you considered this to be weirdly intimate since it was a message sent at two in the morning, you figured that was probably normal for the likes of people like Gojo Satoru, who probably were out drinking and partying until five in the morning every night, regardless of any 8AM lectures or not.

But unfortunately, curiosity always kills the cat (that’s the expression, right?) and so you click on his message.

|| 2:24AM Gojo Satoru: Hey, sorry if this is weird…I don’t think we’ve ever met before, but my buddy’s really into your roommate, and he’s tried to invite her out to our frat’s house parties but he’s had no luck. Think you could convince her to come this weekend? You’re welcome to come too, of course

You blink in surprise before rolling your eyes, not entirely sure why you were expecting any different. Maybe Mina wasn’t budging on his friend’s advances because she wants to be asked out on an actual date, and not to some house party. But you figured frat guys wouldn’t really understand that. Besides, how did he know that you were her roommate? You’re just about to type a response when you see three little dots in the left side corner, indicating he was typing, and you hold your breath.

|| 2:27AM Gojo Satoru: Here are the details

And then he sends you a post from what looks like his fraternity’s Instagram page. There’s an address, a time, the name of the DJ and girls get in free bolded at the top. You realize you’ve never even been invited to a fraternity’s house party until this very moment.

You briefly consider not responding to him and just setting your phone back down on your nightstand, rolling over, and falling asleep. But you find your fingers moving on their own to type.

|| 2:31AM You: you’re messaging me to help your friend get with my roommate?

There’s an uncomfortable two minutes where there’s no response from him and for some reason your anxiety is through the roof. You remember the countless times you’ve heard people describe Gojo Satoru in passing: there’s just something about him that demands your attention.

His notification pops up at the top of the Instagram app when you were scrolling through reels to distract yourself and you accidentally clicked on it too fast.

|| 2:33AM Gojo Satoru: Uh, yeah?

You sigh as you ponder the proposition. You don’t even know for sure why Mina wasn’t really responding to his friend’s advances, maybe the guy was a creep or just not her type. And even if she was somewhat interested in him, she’s already refused to go to any of their frat’s house parties, so how would you be able to persuade her?

You finally convince yourself you’ve had enough of Gojo’s messages for the night and you’ll choose whether or not you want to revisit the topic again in the morning, until another message flashes across your screen.

|| 2:38AM Gojo Satoru: What can I do to get you to convince her to come this weekend?

You bite down on your lip at his question, and an idea flashes through your mind.

|| 2:40AM You: i’ll find a way to convince her. my terms and conditions will come later

He responds in a second.

|| 2:40AM Gojo Satoru: Deal

a/n. dude literally slid into your DMs lol. thank you for reading! i also post this story over on AO3, if you're more into that format, but i just wanted to start posting over here on tumblr too. hope to see you in the next one!

➸ take me to chapter two!

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katsukistofu · 4 months ago

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my caffeine mix-up! pt. ii

contents ౨ৎ ⋆ hawks x fem reader. fluff. slightly suggestive. you accidentally pick up the number two hero’s coffee so picks you up instead. | part i

note: fukuoka is the canon location of hawks hero agency

You stare at the text for what embarrassingly feels like at least the tenth time this hour.

pick you up at 8 ;)

Was sent mere moments ago from the contact Hawks, that had several hearts next to his name that you don’t remember him putting, saved in your phone after he dropped you off at work this morning.

Nearly giving your coworkers who just so happened to be looking out the windows at the time synchronized heart attacks in their cubicles, which would’ve been very hard to explain to your boss.

Who, thank All Might, was not here today.

But the millisecond you walked out of the elevator onto your floor, their nosy natures quickly won over their states of disbelief.

Desperate for the juicy details, nothing could stop them from swarming you like a group of hungry piranhas, and you’re flooded with a sea of questions you’re simply at a loss for how to answer.

“How did you meet him?” “So when’s the wedding?” “Were you rescued in a villain attack that wasn’t on the news yet?” “Oh my god, did you two—?”

“Guys!” You cut them off with a frantic wave of your hands, you did not need to hear the end of that sentence. “We just happened to meet. I, uh.”

Your coworkers look at you with expectant eyes, eagerly waiting to hear your no doubt heart-racing meet-cute story with the hero so popular, that when the paparazzi got a picture of him sipping kombucha tea, the drink went out of stock in stores nationwide faster than you could even say its name.

“I accidentally took his coffee order.”

You cringe a bit as you finish, and you’re met with the most comically shocked faces you’ve ever seen in your entire life.

“You WHAT!?”

“Damn I literally just tweeted ‘my coworker stole Hawks’s coffee’ and it already has a hundred reposts.”

“Oh honey, you’re lucky our boss is out sick today. He’d fire you for that.”

“Yeah, Hawks is his all-time favorite on the charts since All Might.”

You groan. “I know! He was so nice about it too, I still feel bad.”

“You should be.”

All your coworkers simultaneously glare at your company’s front desk receptionist that somehow snuck up to your floor, who for some reason takes that as a signal to continue.

“I could never be illiterate enough to take his order if I was in that coffee shop.”

“No one cares, Janet,” everyone says in deadpanned unison.

Janet huffs and turns to leave, but not before pointedly throwing another withering look at you.

She never did like you ever since you politely corrected her grammar in that passive aggressive email she sent when you were a new hire.

Not illiterate your ass.

Throughout the day, you answer more emails, calls, and print papers in a daze.

When you go to forward an email, all you can think about is how his strong arms felt on your waist. When you go retrieve ink to refill the printer, all you can think about is his gentle yet firm grip that he had on your thighs.

This could not be healthy.

But what if it was? You’ve never been touched so intimately, so softly before, like you were something precious, even in your fleeting experiences with relationships.

No one’s made you feel this safe like he does from just being in their presence.

But you blame that on him being a hero. He was probably trained on how to calm civilians down, especially during rescues.

You don’t really think that applied to people who stole his coffee, but maybe that was just you trying to feel special.

With a shake of your head, you straighten yourself in your chair. You had to get it together.

No more thoughts of Hawks on company time until it’s time to clock out!

But it seems like the winged flirt had other plans.

hawks ♡♡♡ [12:00]

hey

[sent an image]

hawks ♡♡♡ [12:01]

saw a pretty flower on

someone’s roof and it

reminded me of you :)

You freeze when you see the notification pop up, mid-bite through the food that you picked up from your favorite aesthetically pleasing cafe for lunch.

With a mouthful of sandwich, you click on the message to text back, when suddenly the realization hits you.

You had no idea what to wear for the date.

Oh my god, what were you even supposed to wear? Was there some kind of etiquette for this?

I mean, it’s not like he’s taking you to the Hero Gala. It’s just a higher end homey sushi and ramen place, but still.

Pinterest probably didn’t have “cute date outfit ideas for going out with the freaking number two hero” in their search results.

In your mind, you nervously run through different casual but still elegant clothes to wear. Maybe that nice blouse you had been saving, the one with the ruffles on the sleeves? You bite the inside of your cheek. No, maybe your classy sleeveless turtleneck midi dress instead?

Ugh, but you’ve already worn it out too many times last month. Not to mention the current ninety degree weather would cook you alive in that.

You pray that the paparazzi wouldn’t dare to stalk you on your date, but imagine if they did and took a picture of you two?

Caption: Hawks takes girl that never wears anything else out on date.

Even worse, caption: Hawks seen taking girl that can’t dress if her life depended on it out on date.

Nope, not on your watch.

The further you brainstormed, the more each piece of your wardrobe seemed less and less fitting to wear for such an occasion.

An idea pops into your head.

What was Hawks’s favorite color? You could base an outfit off of that instead.

Thinking about it, it was probably red. Hell, if you had pretty crimson wings like him you’d forget every other color in the rainbow.

Should you text him and ask?

After a little mental wrestling yourself, you muster up all the courage you could possibly have on a Monday afternoon.

[12:20]

you

that’s so cute :((((

thank you <3

you

also random but what’s

your favorite color?

hawks ♡♡♡

ooh we playing twenty questions? ;)

you

lol i guess we are ;)

hawks ♡♡♡

hmmm ok then

hawks ♡♡♡

my favorite colors

probablyyy red

you

i knew it

hawks ♡♡♡

oh?

hawks ♡♡♡

been thinking about me

have you, pretty girl?

you

……..maybe

hawks ♡♡♡

you’re so cute when

you get all shy

Your cheeks warm at that, and you physically have to put down your phone for a moment to cool off.

[12:34]

hawks ♡♡♡

my turn

hawks ♡♡♡

whatcha having for lunch?

you

[sent an image]

sandwich :)

hawks ♡♡♡

ooh that looks yummy

you

it is!!!!

you

it’s from the cafe across

the one where i nabbed

your coffee lol

hawks ♡♡♡

ah when fate brought

us together by my overly

sweet latte

hawks ♡♡♡

i’ll make sure to stop by

it after patrol tomorrow :)

you

yay!!! lmk what you think

i want a full review

hawks ♡♡♡

yes ma’am (︶▽︶)7

you

what are you having for lunch?

hawks ♡♡♡

[sent an image]

just chicken lol

Of course he was. It did look good. The fried edges were perfectly crispy, and it was a nice golden brown color and—

hawks ♡♡♡

but i wish it was you instead ;)

you

!!!!!?1!?)$1&1$@-

hawks ♡♡♡

aw, you embarassed right now?

you

YESOHMYHOF???

you

YOU CANR JUST

SAY THAT

hawks ♡♡♡

whyyy nottt

hawks ♡♡♡

it’s true though! :(

you

oh my god i’m going to die

you

and this sandwich is

going to be my last meal

hawks ♡♡♡

noo don’t die

you

i will

hawks ♡♡♡

id miss you :(

you

then know that it

was all YOUR fault.

hawks ♡♡♡

pffft you're so cute

hawks ♡♡♡

wish i could see your

flustered face right now

you

STOP

you

i think i'm going to

have to block you

you

this isn’t good for my heart

hawks ♡♡♡

noooooooo!!!!!!

come backkkk!!

You had to bite back a fond giggle, feeling warm all over. How was it fair for him to be this cute over text and in person?

hawks ♡♡♡

okok but before you block me

which i don’t think you will

hawks ♡♡♡

send me your address so

i know where to pick up the

most beautiful girl alive <3

you

oh u smooth ass mf

hawks ♡♡♡

for you? always

you

UGHHH

fine here it is

you

123-4567 fukuoka, tenjin,

chuo ward, 8-91

hawks ♡♡♡

perfect

see you soon birdie ;)

After an eventful day at work, you’re turned around, glancing at your back in the mirror.

Even though the scarlet dress that falls just below your knees hugs your figure in all the right places, you still feel a little self-conscious in it.

You honestly haven’t touched it since you bought it at the mall with a friend, who insisted that red was your color even when you had wrinkled your nose.

But as you admire the smooth, soft fabric of it now, you can’t help but be reminded of a certain someone’s beautiful wings.

You think you were really starting to warm up to the color.

A spritz of your favorite perfume and slight touch up of your makeup later, you hear a knock on the door to your balcony.

That must be him!

You excitedly unlock the sliding glass, and you’re finally greeted with the sight of Hawks’s signature grin that you missed all day.

“Hey, pretty girl.”

“Hi,” you say back, a bit breathlessly.

As if you were the one who flew all across the city just to see him.

He takes the moment to look you up and down, not in a hungry, lustful way like you’re used to when you’re around other men, even when you’re not exposing much skin.

Hawks admires you.

Like you’re a statue of a goddess, made of the most pristine marble. Like you’re a beautiful cherry blossom tree at peak bloom, with the wind serenading your soft pink petals.

Like you’re something so divinely beautiful and enchanting, you deserve to be revered.

“Wow.” Hawks opens his mouth, but no other sound comes out. The bouquet he’s hiding behind his back for you goes limp in his hand.

For a man who never runs out of words to say, he’s been rendered speechless.

There’s a tingle of anxiety at your neck and you’re suddenly a little nervous. “How—How do I look?”

Hawks takes a deep breath, and finally speaks.

“You look absolutely, astoundingly gorgeous.”

Hawks’s lips curve upwards softly when you visibly melt, his touch sweeter than the caramel of his eyes as a hand tips your chin up to meet his warm gaze that the summer heat had nothing on.

“And that’s the least interesting about you.”

─────────

“This is really good.”

Is what you ultimately decide when you’re on the fourth piece of the unagi roll you ordered.

Hawks grins, you looked cute with your cheeks puffed up like that. “Isn’t it? I knew you’d like it.”

You nod while covering your mouth, chewing slowly to savor the delectable taste of the sushi. “I’m literally going to gatekeep this place so hard.”

“Good.” He reaches across the table for your hand with an amused laugh. “It can just be our little spot, then.”

You softly smile back at him.

“Our little spot.”

At that moment, the waiter comes over with Hawks’s shoyu ramen. “Enjoy!”

“Thanks!” Hawks beams at him, then turns his attention to the bowl in front of him.

Then a slight frown appears on his face.

You tilt your head. “What’s wrong?”

His worried eyes meet yours.

“You sure just sushi is enough? You can always order something else, it’s on me.”

“Oh no it’s okay!” You wave a hand. “I’m not really that hungry—“

“I don’t believe you.” A hint of a teasing smile plays on his lips. “Could hear your tummy growling a bit earlier.”

“You heard that?” You whine. How embarrassing.

“All the more reason to share my ramen with me.”

Your eyes widen. “You want me to?”

“I do.” Hawks stubbornly says, picking up his chopsticks to grab noodles with them. He holds them up to your lips, a growing smirk on his handsome face.

“Say ahhh.”

Throwing a quick glance around the restaurant, your cheeks flame. “Hawks!”

“What?” He’s still wearing that casual, shit-eating grin. “It’s just us and a few other people here, c’mon.”

You huff. “I can feed myself!”

“I know you can, birdie.” Hawks holds your gaze with piercing but warm eyes. “But I want to do it.”

You fiddle with your own chopsticks, looking at anything but his eyes.

“Please? Let me take care of you.”

Finally, you cave at his pleading expression.

“Okay.”

He feeds you, and you’re not still not sure why he’s so happy to do so, but you let him.

The owner of the sushi and ramen place laughs as he looks over at the booth you two had occupied a few hours before closing.

As always, there’s a generously heavy tip left on the table and this time a new, small note.

thank you, boss :> we’ll be back!! - h

─────────

It’s summer, again.

Keigo flies you back home in his arms after his patrol and your nine to five, and as you touch down on your balcony, the sky is starting to turn a brilliant gradient of orange, pink and purple as the sun begins to dip below the horizon.

His eyes are lidded as he pulls you closer to him by the waist on the couch.

“You like when I’m this close to you?”

In the privacy of your apartment with the only sound being the breeze from your air conditioning and the faint chirping of crickets outside, it’s like the both of you are in your own little world.

“Yeah.” You sound muffled while hiding your burning face in his chest. “You still make me nervous.”

“I make you nervous?” His low voice is lilting as he tilts his head, and pulls you even closer to him with a firm hand now on the small of your back.

Keigo smirks, drinking up the sound of your little gasp. “I’m gonna take that as a yes, little dove.”

You blink dreamily, disorientated by his warmth seeping through his sleeveless turtleneck and the feeling of his firm chest against yours. He was so cozy. “Dove?”

“Yeah. ‘Cause they symbolize peace, and you’re my safe place.” Keigo’s eyes soften at the way you snuggle into him in response. He was yours too, your comfort person. “You’re perfect, you know that?”

“Mmm.” You’re resting your head on his chest, listening to the sound of his heartbeat. “Tell me again.”

“As many times as you want.” He leans down to whisper in your ear.

“You’re perfect.”

You let out a laugh, his breath was tickling your ear. “Kei, why’s your heart beating so fast when you say that?”

“Mm.” He offers you a sly smile, hand tracing circles on the small of your back as you lay on top of him.

“Guess you just do something to me when we’re together, birdie.”

Your eyes start to feel heavy, and you hug him even tighter at that.

“I’m so glad I stole your shitty excuse of a coffee that day.”

And it’s when he laughs from deep within his chest that you know he is too.

— Courtship feeding is believed to function as ceremonial pair bonding. The male bird usually feeds their female mate, and the resulting nutritional boost contributes to more and healthier offspring.

#sorry to all the janets out there xx #hawks x reader #hawks fluff #bnha x reader #mha x reader #keigo takami x reader #hawks x you #mha fluff #mha oneshot #bnha oneshot

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jinogasux-fr · 1 month ago

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Santae banned me without telling me why and won't unban me unless I send them my photo ID

Hey guys sorry for not posting in… forever? I just suck at social media lol. But you may have seen that I've reblogged some posts that advertise Santae in the past, but please disregard all that. I've since deleted those posts after learning how the site is managed and, after what happened to me a few days ago, I feel as though I should go public about this. Because boy did I just get fucked over.

Anyway, yeah, what it says in the title. On October 24th, around 10am EST, I was restocking my user shop when the entire webpage went white. I couldn't access the site at all and, when I tried to look for the Discord on my server list, it wasn't there. I knew what this had meant. I got banned from both the game, and the Discord - this is important to keep in mind for later.

I didn't receive any Discord DM or email notification about my ban, so after asking a mod what their support email was (and yes, I later verified that this is indeed their legitimate support email), I sent them this:

After a few hours, I get this back in response:

There's so much I'm confused about here. I think the one that screams out the most is that they're asking me to show them my photo ID so I can get unbanned. Absolutely not. I refuse to do this. This poses a massive security and privacy risk. They straight up banned my account, gave this half-baked explanation, and told me I need to send my personal information or... I stay banned?

Let me make something clear: The only personal thing they have on file about this account is the email address that I created my account with, which I've also used to contact them. My real name, date of birth, anything of that nature would not be connected because this was not asked for during account creation, therefore this wouldn't actually prove I'm the account holder. Theoretically speaking, I could show them any ID in the world and for all they know, that's my real information, because they have nothing else to go off of. They even say as much in their privacy page.

Secondly, "account has been compromised"? What does that mean? I think anyone's interpretation of this would be that my account got hacked. But if my account got hacked, why wasn't I informed of this? I had to reach out to support, they did not reach out to me first. That means my password, which I may share across other sites, would have been known to someone else and thus I should've been warned of this immediately, not roughly 5 hours after the fact.

Thirdly, what, was my Discord "compromised" too? If an automated system had flagged my account, does that system somehow interact with a Discord bot so they ban a user on both at the same time? How does that work? That makes no sense as to why they'd ban me on both the game and the Discord for something like this, which is why I'm calling bullshit.

Let me tell you what I think happened.

Recently, Santae has been in some really hot water with connections revealing their relation to an older petsite, Lurapets, which has a history of scamming and artist mistreatment, as well as proof coming out of them using AI art for their NPC art. You can find these posts on the @santae-salt blog if you want to see for yourself, but I'm also linking them throughout this post.

Once the post about them being directly related to Lurapets was released, several users that the Santae staff thought might be involved in the creation of the post got banned. As it turns out, I was banned at the same time as these users.

After speaking with the @santae-salt admin, we are both of the belief that I, a regular user, got caught up in this mess because they're assuming I'm an alt account of someone else and staff demanded to see my ID because they didn't think I was a different person. It may turn out to be wrong, and yeah that sounds a bit far-fetched, sure, but really, what else can I go off of here?? Santae staff has given me a very questionable and refutable explanation as to why I've been banned, and their radio silence after I refused to send them my ID is just making me believe they don't think I'm real. They don't want my photo ID to verify I'm the account holder, they want my photo ID to verify I'm not someone else.

This is unprecedented. I've never seen any petsite ask for a photo ID in any situation, and after asking around, not even those banned from Santae were asked for this. It's just me! This is an incredible attempted breach of privacy, and, with Santae now under doxxing allegations, I really don't feel confident they'd keep my personal information… well, personal.

I messaged back almost immediately after they responded to me where I told them I would not send my ID and I had asked if there were any other way I could verify myself to get my account unbanned. I've received no response so far, and after what I've learned, I feel like I'm not going to get one at all.

So, let this be a lesson to you: don't waste your time on Santae. You can be the most obedient player out there. You can abide by all their rules, be a nice and generous player, or just be minding your own business, but if they so much as think you're associated with someone who they think has wronged them, you'll be banned.

And they can't even be bothered to properly tell you why.

#santae #jin speaks #i spent so much time on that game and mann do i regret it LMAO

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otherpens · 1 year ago

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I just think it’s funny that so many people have been like “of course Hbomberguy uploaded the video at 3 am, what a random madlad!”

But like…no.

0300 GMT is what time in Eastern Canada?

James Somerton’s bedtime.

Chances are he’s had a long day of hard work copying and pasting entire books, so either he’s bone-tired and done with doing anything for the rest of the night, or he’s asleep already and will be unconscious for several hours.

Either way, it’s the best possible time for his career to be suddenly and swiftly bodyslammed and then the notifications start to trickle in…then get faster. And faster. And faster. And more people are calling and texting and emailing and he might never sleep peacefully another night in his life.

But maybe the phone is on silent. Maybe James won’t know a thing has changed until he wakes up the next morning and, groggily, reaches to turn off the alarm and sees his phone screen.

Sweet dreams. 😌 A time well-chosen.

He gets to watch his grift “career” drown, helpless to stop it; or wake up to find it already at the bottom of the Marianas trench in one fell swoop. [chef kiss] Impeccable timing.

#James Somerton #hbomberguy #YouTube #plagiarism

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lettucing · 13 days ago

Text

look of love, rush of blood | chapter two

words: ~4.1k | pairing: jschlatt x she/her, afab reader

summary: Thanks to a not-so-subtle push from your roommate, Joelle, you find yourself crossing paths with Schlatt once again.

notes: ITS FINALLY HERE!! my apologies for taking 5ever, this chapter was originally going to be WAY longer but i wasn't getting it done as fast as i expected to so i decided to split it up into two parts and post them separately. chapter three is gonna go up super soon!!!! <33 (p.s. my apologies for any typos/mistakes, i proofread this thing so many times they probably started going over my head towards the end)

⭑

You’re pulled from sleep by a knock on your door, muffled but persistent.

Before you have a chance to roll over and pretend you didn’t hear it, Joelle’s voice filters through, cheerful and impossible to ignore. You groan, glancing at the alarm clock reading 10:54 AM, before dragging yourself from the tangle of your sheets, last night's drinks still lingering in your head. “Shit.” You think, mentally kicking yourself for sleeping in so late. You’re still half-dreaming when you finally turn the handle and open the door, squinting against the sunlight streaming in from the hallway.

Joelle stands there beaming, a small box of donuts held up like a prize, her eyes sparkling with energy— a vivid contrast to your groggy state. “Ta-daaa!” she says, flipping open the box. “And there’s iced coffee waiting in the kitchen. Don’t say I never spoil you.” Despite the haze of sleep, you smile, following her to the kitchen. “Donuts and coffee? I love you so much.”

You settle in at your small dining table as she nudges a donut, frosted in your favorite color and covered with sprinkles, toward you. “This one’s yours.” she says, watching as you take a bite. You chuckle, mouth half-full. “What’s with the royal treatment? Are you buttering me up to tell me you’re moving out?” Joelle laughs, a mischievous glint in her eye. “No, but... I did make a little move of sorts last night. You might have a couple missed texts from a certain someone awaiting a response.”

Thoroughly suspicious now, you head back to your room, reaching for your phone to scroll through notifications that piled up during Do Not Disturb mode. Emails, Instagram updates, messages… Among the usual chaos and random alerts, one stack of notifications stands out—three texts from a number you don’t recognize.

(2h ago) xxx-xxx-xxxx: hey, y/n xxx-xxx-xxxx: it’s schlatt xxx-xxx-xxxx: i got your number from ted from joelle, hope that’s okay

Your stomach flips.

Oh. Oh my god.

You walk back into the kitchen to face Joelle, who smiles sheepishly. "Ted mentioned he thought Schlatt might regret not getting your number. I just… gave him a little nudge to make it happen."

You blink, still processing what she just said. Joelle’s expression shifts to looking genuinely apologetic. “I’m sorry if that was too much, but from what I saw and what I heard from Ted, you two were totally hitting it off at the bar last night. It seemed like a missed opportunity if I didn’t.” You’re torn between being mildly annoyed and unexpectedly flattered. “All i did was spill a drink in his lap.” you mutter, still staring at the texts from Schlatt.

Joelle leans forward in her chair. “Well, clearly it was something more than that to him. And now you’ve got a chance to find out what. So… are you going to reply, or are you just going to leave him hanging?”

You glance back at the messages on your phone, the words “hope that’s okay” echoing in your mind. The temptation to text him back was strong, but your heart races at the thought of it.

“Do you really think I should?” you ask, unsure whether to be thrilled or terrified. “Oh absolutely.” Joelle says with an enthusiastic nod. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

You take a deep breath, the phone in your hand suddenly feeling heavier than it should. The last thing you need is to come off as too eager or weird, but at the same time, there’s a part of you that’s excited over the idea of picking up where the night left off with Schlatt.

After composing yourself, you type out a response and save his number.

you: oh hey! yeah, that’s totally okay, no worries :)

You hit send, your heart still racing as you set the phone down. For a moment there’s only silence, the sound of your and Joelle’s breathing along with the distant buzz of the city outside your window providing a strange comfort. You can’t help but recall your interactions with Schlatt from the bar last night– he was charismatic and funny, with just the right amount of playful arrogance that made it clear he was teasing in good fun. Not to mention he was absolutely gorgeous— those broad shoulders, those warm brown eyes…

What was he feeling right now? Is he nervous? Is he as intrigued by you as you are by him?

Just then, your phone buzzes again, jolting you from your thoughts. Joelle cheers. “Aaah! See, he already texted you back!”

Schlatt: awesome. Schlatt: how are you? Schlatt: hungover?

You smile, shifting in your chair as you glance at Joelle, who beams at you in return. The conversation with Schlatt picks up effortlessly, flowing just like it had the night before.

You: i’m good! hangover’s looming a bit, but it’s not enough to keep me in bed, LOL You: joelle woke me up with donuts You: you?

Schlatt: damn. some house guests i have, i didn’t wake up to donuts. Schlatt: i’m good though, i don’t really get hungover

You: oh. lucky you, i guess 😒

Schlatt: yeah, guess so 🫅

You: 🙄 You: anyways…

Schlatt: anyways... what? got anything fun planned for today?

You: honestly, not really. might go for a walk, maybe catch up on some work stuff. nothing exciting.

Schlatt: sounds like a solid plan. i’m doin the same, stayin out of trouble for once.

You: yeah, right. I think we both know that’s not true

Schlatt: fair point. i’ll probably end up in brooklyn robbing a bodega at gunpoint for youtube content

You: oh wow. willing to die for your craft, i respect it

Schlatt: you know it

You: well, enjoy your trouble then. i’ll be over here trying to be a responsible adult

Schlatt: responsible adult? sounds boring

You: yeah. definitely boring.

Schlatt: well maybe we gotta find you a new hobby then. you have an office job, that shit’s depressing

You: hey, it’s not thaaaaat bad

The use of "we" in his message sends a strange flutter through your chest. It feels casual, but there’s something about it that makes your heart beat a little faster.

You set your phone down, glancing over at Joelle, who’s barely holding back her grin. "What?" you ask again, half-laughing. She leans back in her chair, clearly enjoying the moment. "Just enjoying the show. It’s cute, you know, how you’re trying to play it cool." You roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips gives you away. “Don’t give me that look,” she teases. “It’s obvious you’re into him. No need to pretend otherwise.” You take a deep breath, leaning against the table as you glance back at your phone. The message from Schlatt still lingers on the screen, his playful challenge hanging in the air. You're not sure why, but something about this feels different, more than just a random flirtation or passing interest.

"Okay, fine," you say, breaking the silence. "Maybe I am a little into him. But I’m not jumping into anything, alright?" Joelle raises her hands. "I'm not entirely suggesting any jumping. But, just so you know, I think he’s got potential." You sigh, trying not to smile at her overzealous enthusiasm. "You’re terrible, you know that?" She shrugs innocently, shit eating grin plastered on her face. "If by terrible you mean ‘helping you get with the potential man of your dreams’, then yes, I do know that."

Your phone buzzes again, snapping you back to the conversation at hand. You glance down at the screen, and a small grin tugs at your lips.

Schlatt: yeah. “that” bad. Schlatt: i’m taking this as a challenge. I could totally make responsible adulthood a little more interesting

Your heart skips a beat. You glance at Joelle, who’s already reading from the seat next to you, waiting for your reaction. Without thinking, you type a response and hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

You: yeah i bet. let’s see what you’ve got

Joelle lets out a small cheer, clearly thrilled by your response. "Look at you, taking the plunge." she says, a teasing tone in her voice.

You glance at your phone one more time, wondering if you just made a huge mistake—or if, maybe, it would be the start of something amazing.

⭑

The rest of your weekend flew by all too fast. The texts from Schlatt come more often now, slipping seamlessly into the rhythm of your daily life. At first, you felt a little nervous, wondering if you were reading too much into it. But soon, you realized he wasn’t just texting you for the sake of it— he genuinely seemed interested, and you couldn’t help but feel the same. It’s not a constant barrage of texts, but there’s a steady stream; lighthearted banter, jokes about your attempts to be a ‘responsible adult,’ and more than a few playful digs at each other’s habits. The conversations flow easily, like you’ve known each other much longer than just a few days. The pressure to impress fades, replaced by something more natural— talking for the sake of talking, sharing small moments and mundane details. The kind of banter you’d have with a friend, but with a hint of something more beneath the surface. The casualness of it all makes you feel a little lighter, more at ease. There’s no pressure, no rush, just two people chatting about whatever comes to mind. You realize, somewhere between the light teasing and the late-night message exchanges, that you’ve gotten used to his presence in your day— his humor, his attention, the way he manages to make you laugh without even trying. It felt… right.

By Wednesday, the texting had become a part of your routine.

Your work day drags on until, finally, it’s time to clock out. You walk home through crisp autumn air, the fading sunlight casting a warm orange glow over the city, wrapping you in its familiar hum. The city you loved was alive, but in this moment, it felt peaceful— like you were in your own little world.

You had been home for about an hour when you heard the front door open. You turn to see Joelle, eyes wide with excitement, stepping in from work. "Y/N! Oh my god! I have news!" She kicks the door shut behind her, tosses her purse and jacket onto a dining chair, and plops down on the couch next to you. "Hi, first of all." she says, pulling you into a quick hug. "I hope you had a good day. Second of all, look!” She flips her phone around to show you a text she received from Ted.

TED<33: Hey! A bunch of work friends are here in NYC for a Twitch event and we thought it would be fun to throw a lil get-together for everyone at Schlatt’s place on Friday. We’d love it if you and Y/N came as well :)

You blink, surprised. "Oh wow.” Joelle nods, her excitement palpable. “I know, right?”

Your heart flutters in your chest thinking about seeing Schlatt again, and you knew Joelle had been dying to spend more time with Ted. How could you refuse? You take a deep breath, trying to mask the sudden rush of excitement that floods your chest. "Sure, why not?" you say, a smile beginning to form on your face.

Joelle grins, practically bouncing in her seat. "Yes! I knew you’d say yes!" She leans in, volume dropping. "At least I was hoping you would, ‘cuz I may have already started mentally picking out an outfit. No pressure, but I’m ready to turn heads. And by heads, I mean Ted’s head."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "I’ll try to keep up with you."

As Joelle practically skips off to her room to sift through her closet, you find yourself glancing at your phone. All of your messages with Schlatt are still fresh in your mind, and the idea of seeing him again makes your stomach flip in a way you can’t quite explain. It’ll be fine– It’s just a party, right?

You let out a breath, shaking off the nerves as you pick up your phone and type out a message to him.

You: so You: a party, huh?

You get a reply within minutes.

Schlatt: stupid fuckin ted doesn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, i was gonna invite you myself Schlatt: but yeah. I figured it would be nice to invite all my buddies over while they’re all in ny Schlatt: you comin’?

You: oh yeah, i’ll be there You: joelle wouldn’t go without me, and how could i deny her the chance to see ted again?

Schlatt: god dude he never shuts up about her

You: yeah she never shuts up about him either You: it’s cute tho

Schlatt: yeah. “cute” Schlatt: more like makes me wanna rip my skin off

You: jealous?

Schlatt: hardly.

You: uh huh, sure You: just admit it, you’re secretly a softie

Schlatt: no chance in hell

You: if you say so! You: anyway. what’s the predicted vibe for this party

Schlatt: probably just a bunch of youtubers getting drunk and being loud, you know the usual Schlatt: but i’m sure it’ll be fun

You: oh wow, sounds like a blast You: honestly i’m a little nervous to be around so many ppl i don’t know, but at least i’ll have a good excuse to drink, LMAO

Schlatt: that’s the spirit.

You: what time should we be there?

Schlatt: official time 8 but u can show up whenever, ted will probably text you guys 20 times before then asking when you’re coming though, lol

You: he’s funny. You: well, guess i’ll see you friday at 8?

Schlatt: hell yeah.

Setting your phone down, you smile. You’ll be seeing him again, in person, and that thought has you feeling unexpectedly giddy. You wonder what it’ll be like—if the easy banter you have over text will translate to the real thing. On top of that, there’s the thought of being around so many new people you’ve never met, adding a layer of nerves you can’t quite shake. But maybe it’s better not to overthink it. It’s just a party, and it’s just Schlatt.

"Just Schlatt." you think, the words echoing in your mind. If you’re honest, it’s starting to feel like so much more than just Schlatt.

The two days leading up to the party felt like an eternity, anticipation building up in your stomach like a ticking time bomb of nerves. By Friday afternoon, you were practically buzzing in your seat at work, waiting for the time you could finally leave and start getting ready for the party. You’ve already checked your phone more times than you’d like to admit, hoping for another text from Schlatt that might ease the suspense, or at least give you something to laugh about— but you were met with radio silence. You assume he’s busy preparing to host, but that doesn’t stop your nerves from creeping in. To distract yourself, you turn to outfit options, sifting through your closet until you find something that feels just right—casual, but still nice, adaptable to whatever vibe the other guests might bring.

You’re in the bathroom just starting on your makeup when you hear the front door swing open and Joelle’s excited footsteps coming down the hall. “Hey, Jelly!” you call out, peeking through the cracked bathroom door. Joelle appears in the doorway, eyes gleaming with excitement. “Heyyy, love the outfit! You ready for tonight?” You smile, a tinge of nervousness peaking through. “I mean… I guess? Not like I really have a choice, right?” She grins. “Nope!”

⭑

Forty-five minutes later, you and Joelle are stepping out onto the sidewalk, feeling a rush of nerves as you take in the towering building in front of you– Schlatt’s apartment complex. “Damn, this place is faaaan-cy,” Joelle comments. She looks over at you, and you both share a nervous, excited glance. “Well,” she says with a shrug, already making her way toward the entrance. “Only one way to go from here!”

As you step into the elevator, Joelle glances down at her phone, re-reading a message from Ted. “Top floor, Penthouse 2B,” she reads aloud, eyebrows raised. “Seriously, how rich is this guy?” She nudges you playfully. “Guess you’ve hit the jackpot.” You roll your eyes, nudging her with a laugh. “Stop it.”

The elevator dings, and soon you’re stepping out onto the top floor. The hallway is quiet, softly lit and lined with plush, deep blue carpet. You turn right, leading to a sleek door marked with a plaque that reads:

PENTHOUSE SUITE | 2B

Joelle types out a quick text to Ted as you both approach the door. You take a steadying breath, exchanging a glance with her. “You ready?” She gives you a confident nod. “Hell yeah.”

You raise your hand to knock, but before you can make contact, the door swings open to reveal Ted himself, grinning wide.

"Heyyy, look who finally made it!" Ted booms. Behind him, the room hums with laughter, music, and lively conversation. Ted pulls Joelle in for a quick hug, telling her she looks great, and it’s great to see her again. When he turns to you, his face lights up with a playful smirk. "Well hey, Y/N.” he says, arms already open. You laugh, stepping in for a hug. "Hi, Ted." His enthusiasm is infectious, and thinking back to the bar, you can’t help but realize that this seemed to be typical Ted—friendly, warm, and definitely a hugger.

He steps back, still grinning, and gestures toward the lively scene behind him. “Come on in! I can take your jackets and bags if you want, we’re just tossing them in the closet down the hall.” Ted takes your things as you step inside and heads toward the hallway, leaving you and Joelle alone. You turn to her, shaking your head with a smile. "He’s such a goofball." Joelle leans in close, grinning. "Oh, I know. I need him. Bad." You roll your eyes. "You’re ridiculous." As you look away from Joelle and begin scanning the room, your eyes land on a familiar face.

Schlatt.

He’s completely absorbed in an intense game of beer pong, set up on a plastic folding table in the center of the living room. Dressed in black jeans and a pale green crewneck, his messy brown curls brushed against his forehead. For a moment, you’re frozen, watching him in the midst of the lively chaos around him. Looking at the lack of cups left on the table, you could tell the game was close. His focus is intense as he lines up to throw the ping-pong ball, eyebrows furrowed.

God, he was handsome. Intensely focused and entirely in his element, you feel yourself drawn to him, your stomach tightening with a mix of nerves and excitement just from being near him.

The moment is broken when the other person on his team, a guy in a black tank top with short light brown hair and an eyebrow slit, claps him on the back. “Let’s go big guy, sink it!” Schlatt rolls his eyes, throwing his hands up in frustration. “Dude, i was trying to lock in and focus, and you totally fucked me up.”

You stifle a chuckle as the two of them start bickering, and after a moment, Schlatt takes the shot. The ball sinks into the cup, and he pumps his fist in victory. His teammate raises his hand for a high-five as the two guys on the other side of the table drink from the cup– Schlatt leaves him hanging. Then, his gaze shifts, and for a moment, your eyes lock. Flustered, you raise a hand, giving an awkward wave. A small smile tugs at the corners of his lips, and he gives you a subtle wave in return.

Before you even realize it, Ted reappears, pulling your focus from Schlatt’s game. “Alright, guess I'm playin’ host while Schlatt is preocuppied, drinks anyone? We’ve got a ridiculous selection in the kitchen. Beer, tequila, whiskey, vodka, seltzers, literally whatever you want. I’ll be your bartender.” Joelle glances at you, then back to Ted. “Lead the way!”

You follow Ted through the crowded room, weaving past groups of people chatting and laughing, and head into the kitchen. He gestured grandly at the lineup of bottles and mixers on the counter. You scan the options, almost overwhelmed by the sheer variety. “What’ll it be?” Ted asks, leaning against the counter with a playful grin. You glance at Joelle, who’s already eyeing the tequila. “Shots?” she suggests, a mischievous glint in her eye. You laugh, nodding. “Why not?” Ted grins, grabbing three shot glasses and pouring generously. “These are gonna be strong. No complaints after.” You raise an eyebrow playfully as he hands it to you. “I think we can handle a little bit of tequila.”

The three of you clink your glasses together, and you down the shot. The liquor burns on the way down, but the warmth that follows is pleasant. You cough, laughing at Joelle’s exaggerated grimace as she shakes her head. “Smooth.” Ted says with a smirk. “You guys wanna do another?”

“Saving any of that for the rest of us?”

Your breath catches in your throat as you turn around to see Schlatt, running a hand through his hair as he enters the kitchen. He nods at the bottle in Ted’s hand. “Didn’t know we were going hard so early, not that i’m one to talk.” He raises the solo cup in his hand and shakes it, signalling that it was empty.

Ted shrugs, pouring another shot and handing it to Schlatt. “You and Lud win beer pong?”

“Of course we fucking won.” Schlatt shoots back, taking the glass from Ted. “Will and Hasan talk a big game, but they’re pretty dogshit.” He glances at you with a slight smile before turning to Joelle. “You’re Joelle, right? We haven’t officially met—I’m Schlatt.” She grins, nodding. “Yeah, nice to finally meet you!” “Hell yeah.” He raises his glass, and the four of you clink glasses. “Cheers.” he says before downing the shot, face immidiately scrunching up in disgust. “God, I always forget how much I fucking hate tequila.”

Ted and Joelle dissolve into their own conversation– something about a meme they had been texting about earlier, leaving you standing next to Schlatt in silence. You steal a glance at him, unsure of what to say, but he beats you to it. “So, you made it.” he says, folding his arms as he looks you up and down, playful confidence in his gaze. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.” “Of course I did,” you reply, matching his smile. “I’m a responsible adult, remember? I follow through with my plans.”

“Right, responsible,” he says, shaking his head with a smirk. “That definitely explains why you’re here, at a party, which you specifically told me you were using as an excuse to drink since you didn’’t know anyone other than me, Ted, and your roommate.”

You feel a flush creep up your cheeks as he calls you out. "Okay, fair," you laugh, raising your hands in surrender. "But hey, technically, I am being responsible— I showed up with Joelle, I’m not drinking alone, and I know I’ll get home safe. That counts, right?" He leans one arm against the counter, smirk still in place. “Yeah, yeah, if you say so. Sounds like a fancy way to justify a night of poor decisions.” “Poor decisions?” you echo, raising an eyebrow. “We’re just getting started. Who says any of them will be poor?”

“Oh, now you’re making me curious.” His voice drops slightly, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “But really,” he shifts his weight, his eyes darting to the floor, then back up at yours. “It's nice to see you. In person, I mean. Good to know you weren’t just some drunken hallucination and I’ve actually been texting a real person all week.”

You smile, feeling the warmth in your cheeks deepen. “Yeah, it’s nice to see you too.” The two of you hold eye contact, and for a moment, the tension between you lingers, thick and unspoken. Unable to handle it any longer, you break the silence with a light laugh. “But who knows? Maybe I have been a drunken hallucination this whole time. You’re actually just talking to yourself in your kitchen right now.” He lets out a soft laugh, and you continue. “Oh I'm serious, everyone is staring– it’s super weird.”

He rolls his eyes with a grin. “Alright, alright. Now you’re pushin’ it.”

You both chuckle, the moment settling comfortably between you. Then Ted leans in, breaking the pause. “So, what’s next?” he asks, glancing between you, Schlatt, and Joelle. A cheer erupts from down the hall, likely from the latest beer pong game. Schlatt shrugs, nodding toward the noise.

“Wanna play the next round?”

← last chapter

#jschlatt #jschlatt x reader #jschlatt x y/n #jschlatt x you #jschlatt fanfic #chuckle sandwich fanfic #chuckle sandwich x reader #ted nivison fanfic #look of love rush of blood #:3

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warlocksoup · 2 months ago

Text

into the spider-verse: nishinoya yuu

volume one, chapter one: emails

word count: 2.1k

masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

I know about him.

Teeth gnawing on the inside of her cheek, she stares down at her laptop screen. At the same email she’s been staring at for the last three days, ever since she first got the notification for it on her subway ride home. From [email protected]: I know about him. To anyone else, it might not bear the same weight. To her, it’s suffocating.

She’s done everything she can to try and trace it. Everything she can, of course, being Googling the address and enlisting the help of Yachi from the IT department at the Bugle. The outcome of the former being: Your search - [email protected] did not match any documents, and the outcome of the latter being Yachi’s entire laptop getting infected with malware.

So, not great.

She shifts on the stiff stuffing of her couch, legs crossed under her and the heat from the bottom of her laptop on the bare skin of her thighs. I know about him. She hopes it’s a bluff. Realistically, she knows it’s not. But she’s still in the denial stage.

The screen goes dark, and she wiggles her mousepad to brighten it up once more, just so she can stare longer. She can’t tell him. Not yet. Ideally, not ever. But definitely not yet.

“What are you doing?”

She jolts, automatically slamming her laptop shut as she does so and jumping to face the source of the intrusion.

Spider-Man’s in her living room.

Which is fair. It’s his living room too, even if she does pay the lion’s share of the rent.

“Porn,” is her immediate response and the only thing she can think of to justify her reaction, even if it makes her cheeks burn. “Watching porn,” she doubles down, because she has to.

He reaches behind his head and grabs the end of his mask that sits at the back of his neck, pulling it off in one swift movement. Nishinoya looks at her with his hair flattened against his forehead, blond streak brushing against his brow, and a blossoming, deep purple purse spread across his cheek. “In the living room? Well, I guess I am home early, so can’t complain there.”

She pushes her the laptop off to the couch, and stalks towards him, eyes now fixed on the bruise that stains his features. “And what the fuck happened to you?”

Noya grins at her, bright and unfazed. Almost proud, like his injuries are a badge of honor. “Just ran into my good friend Alexei Sytsevich. He was super stoked to see me.”

Her hand shoots out and takes hold of his jaw, lightly squishing the soft flesh of his cheek together as she tilts his head to the side, trying to get a better look at the damage. Noya just stands there and lets her. “Thought that guy was in jail.”

“Broke out,” Noya says, words barely making it out between his smooshed-up lips. She releases him, and steps back. “He loves breaking out of jail. It’s like his favorite thing to do.”

Noya steps back, and retreats into his bedroom, closing the door with his foot as he does so. Still, she can hear his voice coming through their thin, plaster walls. “I don’t even know what that guy’s end game is anymore. I’m pretty sure he just wants me dead. It’s always like, ‘this is your end, Spider!’ when before he was a lot more focused on his personal goals, so.”

She sighs and collapses back onto the couch again. Freak emails from freak strangers with untraceable email addresses and Sytsevich breaking out of jail for the thousandth-fucking-time to wreck his havoc on Noya’s face. Her hair is going to start turning gray. “You’d think they would’ve built a cell to hold him, by now,” she calls, and Noya is swinging open his bedroom door to saunter back out into living room, suit abandoned in favor of old gym shorts and a vintage looking Godilla t-shirt. “What do you think costs more taxpayer dollars, building a better cell, or paying all those cops to get him back in again?”

Noya rolls his eyes. “Well, I’m the one they call, and they don’t pay me, so.”

That she knows all too well. It’s hard, being a single-income home. Since Noya’s full time job is both incredibly demanding and also unpaid, rent and utilities and groceries mostly fall on her shoulders. Which, it’s not like she can complain or hold it against him. In exchange, he’s the one and only Spider-Man, and she could do worse for roommates.

And he helps when he can, selling candid photos of Spider-Man to the Bugle so they can use them to accompany their hit pieces on him (Noya, of course, finds it incredibly ironic every time they write out a check to him, gleefully paying him for photos of himself).

Noya flicks on the kitchen light, and as he’s lingering in the kitchen, popping open the fridge door with his hip to stare blankly at its contents, she grabs at her laptop once more, opening it back up so she can stare at the email once more. “Do you wanna get a pizza tonight? Some guy gave me a twenty for saving his car from the Rhino’s path.”

“Twenty?” she echoes back, fingers hovering over the reply button. Should she reply? What would she even say? Her Internet safety training at work taught her to never reply to spam emails, just to report it to the system administrator. But looping in the Bugle on an email like this is the last thing she wants. “Seems kinda cheap for saving his entire car.”

“Beggars can’t be choosers,” Noya calls back, closing the fridge. He flicks his wrist in the direction of the living room, and string of white web following it. It attaches itself to the side of a crinkled up, plastic water bottle she was drinking, and before she can blink, the water bottle finds itself in Noya’s hand.

“Dick,” she says, without looking up from her computer. “I was drinking that.”

“Can you look at your porn later? Do you want the pizza or not?”

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Between them is a half-eaten box of pepperoni pizza, propped open on the fire escape. Noya chews loudly on a slice, his eyes on the city skyline, and hers on him. She watches the bruise on his cheek, and how it moves and shifts with each bite he takes. She reaches out and grazes her thumb against it. He swats her hand away. “Stop it, stop worrying.”

She frowns and slides her hand between her pressed-together knees, like she’s trying to hold it still. “Who the fuck said I’m worried?”

“You’re always worried,” he replies, dusting off the end of his pizza nad leaning up against the closed window behind him. “Every time I come home with so much as a papercut, you’re staring at me like there’s a bullet hole in my chest.”

Her eyes drops, and she looks at the greased-stained cardboard between them. “Well, you have come home with bullet holes before, so.”

He sleeps them off. He wraps up the wound in that fucking webbing of his and he just sleeps it off like it’s a headache or scratch or something most people wouldn’t even go to the doctor for. And then she’ll find dried, rusted bits of that webbing, littered around the house.

“Yeah, and I turned out fine,” he assures her, voice a bit softer now. She looks at him, brown eyes shining and slight grin unwavering. “A bruise isn’t gonna kill me. I don’t want you to waste your energy freaking out over me. You have better things to be freaking out over. I know how horrible your boss is.”

She scoffs, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, but I don’t really give a shit about him, to be honest.”

Her fingers fidget, and Noya reaches over, covering both of her hands with his. She looks up at him. “I’ll always take care of us both. Okay? Nothing can happen to me while I’m out there, because I know I gotta come back home and make sure you’re good. That’s my number one priority, and I’m not gonna break that promise. Alright?”

She nods her head. “Yeah, alright. I trust you.”

His grin brightens, and he leans forward to throw his arm over her shoulder, pulling her into his side. “See, that’s my girl. Complete and total faith in me. I love to see it.”

“Whatever,” she grumbles, but rests her head against his shoulder. It feels nice, in his arms. “I’m really the one who takes care of you, y’know. By like, paying the bills.”

“Oh, that reminds me. Can I borrow ten bucks? I bet Tanaka-“

He stops and straightens out. She peers up at him, at watches as his focus narrows in on something in the distance. By the time she catches up, and she can hear the sirens start to go off in the distance, Nishinoya is gone, leaving a slight breeze against the strands of her hair.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

On her desk are two rejections.

The first is on Spider-Man, a feature piece that details his symbolic value to the people of New York; how valuable his presence in the community is and just what he represents to the average New Yorker. It theorizes that identity of Spider-Man isn’t what matters, but the meaning of the mask itself. And it has a big, yellow sticky note on it with the word ‘WRONG!’ written out angrily in thick, black marker.

She sighs. She knew that one wasn’t gonna make it past Jameson. Hardly any of her Spider-Man pieces do. Noya told her to just start writing smear pieces on him, just to get more articles published. But she’s not willing to sacrifice her journalistic integrity to write a bunch of bullshit about how her best friend is ‘getting in the way of the NYPD.’

The second is on the recently passed Norman Osborn. Most obituaries have been fluffy love letters to the capitalist, and maybe Jameson was expecting more of that, rather than a scathing dissection of his life, including, but not limited to, his involvement in developing and selling weapons of war. The sticky note on this one reads, ‘what is this commie crap?’ which, in all honesty, she should’ve been expecting.

She sighs and falls back into her chair. She needs a new, better job. At a place that will publish her articles without twisting her words into nonsense propaganda. A place that will pay her properly, and not like it’s nineteen-eighty-five.

There’s only one silver lining to her job, and that’s the blonde-haired girl depositing a hot latte and everything bagel on her desk. “Rejected again?” Yachi asks, pulling up a chair from the empty desk beside her.

“Ugh, apparently billionaire, tax-evading war criminal Norman Osborn was a friend to the masses that needs to be celebrated, and the guy that says innocent lives every day for free is public enemy number one,” she rants at once, snatching that coffee up and immediately gulping it down, ignoring how it burns her tongue on the way down.

“Yeah,” Yachi agrees. “You didn’t know that?��

She rolls her eyes, wiggling her mouse to wake up her computer. “Shut up.”

Yachi leans back in her chair, and gestures towards the computer screen. “Any more emails from that anonymous guy?”

“No, and thank god for that.”

“It’s so weird,” Yachi notes. “’I know about him,’ is weird, but they’re not threatening you for like, money or information or like any other average email scam. And from what I could see that guy really did not want to be tracked down, and spent a lot of time making sure you couldn’t. And for what? To say something weird.”

Yachi doesn’t know the weight of it. Doesn’t even begin to understand the threat, the implication. Yachi doesn’t even know how the ‘him’ is supposed to be. So she really doesn’t get how disconcerting those facts are. She contemplates, for a moment, slamming her head into the keyboard in front of her.

“Whatever,” she decides ultimately. “I’m just going to ignore it and hopefully absolutely nothing will come of it. It’s how I deal with most of my problems.”

“Oh, what a coincidence, me too,” Yachi laughs, and then stands. “I gotta go. Jameson accidentally downloaded malware onto his computer trying to claim a Target gift card. Have fun rewriting your articles.”

“See you for lunch?” she calls after Yachi’s retreating form.

“Yep!” Yachi confirms with a wave of her hand, disappearing down the line of small, cramped cubicles.

With one, deep, calming breath, she returns her attention to the desktop in front of her. She stretches her neck to the left, and then to the right, and prepares for another day of endless bullshit.

Ding!

YOU HAVE ONE NEW MESSAGE.

taglist: @wyrcan @causenessus @seroh @19calicos @w4nyoung @soulfullystarry @chocolains @jaynawayna @baylz @vuntysharck @mollyrolls @boooolame @staileykout @angee444 @kameyyy @choerry-picking @giocriedpower @sunakeiji @sleepzyy @lunasfics @thecoolestlia @yoshit-he-dinosaur @bectoshi @thatonecroc @karasyuu @iatethemochi @itsdragonius @syverse @savemebrazilhinata @localgaytrainwreck @snail-squasher @atzixo @ahdbodhr @nbcvs @dailyakira @kasumiixs @s1ckntw1st3d @noble-17 @atsumuenthusiast @jino0ix @boobilater @keeboismine @scxrcherr @acowboykisser @impatienscush @loverlunaire @oneiratxxia10 @kattiscrying @dazqa @termite-joe @quikhs @cupidsblonde @izukuwus @greninjafan5000 @mplesyrup

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kaiasky · 1 year ago

Text

Complete-ish Guide To Settings You Might Want to Change

These instructions will be for desktop, because the settings are easier to find there. You can do the same on mobile, but it might be in different places.

Dash settings

Your dashboard is broken down into several feeds, including "Following" and "For You".

"Following" is primarily the posts of people you follow, "For You" is algorithmic.

If you just joined, "For You" is default, if you're a longtime user it's "Following". You can change this in the settings on the right

A lot of longtime users will tell you that the Following feed is where we spend most of our time. But try out all the feeds, and see what you like most.

The settings that are settings:

To start, click the settings gear under the account icon (the abstract person head).

This should take you to the General tab. Key settings:

Community Labels: By default anything NSFW is silently hidden. You can change how each subtype is handled.

Hide Additional Mature Content: If you have an iPhone disable this or it'll hide every post from you on the off-chance it contains porn.

If you're under 18 as determined by the birthdate you entered on signup, you can't change these. (If you want them on, you'll have to make a new account and lie)

Under the "Dashboard" tab, you can enable timestamps, which is mostly just nice information to have. sometimes a post is from 2010 and you can be like wow.

The next four probably have the biggest impact on your tumblr experience, so I'm gonna do a breakdown.

Best Stuff First reorders your "Following" to have popular posts at the top. Disabling it makes your feed chronological. I like it off, but up to you.

Include Stuff In Your Orbit and Based On Your Likes put various content from "For You" into "Following". Personally, I disable them to keep "Following" purely posts by people I follow, and then switch between feeds to get what I want.

Followed Tag Posts will put content from the "Your Tags" feed into your "Following" feed. Since you can go to the separate tags feed, I usually turn this off (it tends to show me a lot of duplicate posts), but up to you.

Under the "Notifications" tab you can tell Tumblr to stop sending you emails.

I'd recommend disabling all the emails--if you get a bunch of replies, Tumblr will happily send you dozens of emails, and you don't need that.

Notifications is the push-notifications in-app/in-website. The mobile app, for some reason, has a much better interface for controlling these, including the option to only get activity-notifications for mutuals. You can leave these on, or turn them off if you find the flood of notifications is distracting.

Tumblr News is a newsletter, it usually just has content from @fandom and the other staff-run recap blogs.

Conversational notifications sends you more emails.

Under the "Tumblr Labs" tab you can enable a bunch of cool beta tests.

I particularly suggest Reblog Graphs, What you Missed tab, & Popular Reblogs tab, but they're all fun to try out. A lot of these are honestly better than the For You dashboard.

For each blog you have, you can customize it's Blog Settings. Beyond things like setting an avatar or description, there's a few settings that are fun.

Custom Theme gives you your own subdomain at [blogurl].tumblr.com.

This makes your blog easier to search, and a lot of 3rd party tools depend on you enabling it. It also makes it easier to link your posts to people who don't have tumblr accounts.

You can completely customize the CSS/HTML/Javascript. you can go legitimately crazy. It's not a requirement, but if you want unlimited flexibility, go wild.

On the contrary, if you wanna run a more private blog, you can disable this and then hide your blog from search results/non-registered users.

Likes and Following are public by default. I like to turn these off so I don't have to worry about like, "what will people think if they see i'm following [...] or liking [...]". But it's also fair to keep them public if you'd like.

The other Blog Settings are important but pretty self-explanatory I think.

Finally, there's some useful tools I like:

XKit Rewritten - A bunch of scripts (like RES for Reddit). The one I really like is "mutual checker", which shows at a glance which blogs you are in mutuals with. Which is such a good feature it's included in the mobile apps by default i think.

siikr.tumblr.com - Tumblr search is bad, and google's indexing of tumblr blogs is worse. Siikr will find any post you've made on your blog. Because disk space is limited, only use it to search your blog, and if you're tech savvy consider running a local copy from source.

#196 #r/196 #tumblr help

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dullgecko · 2 months ago

Note

i think that riz often just sits in his wardrobe when he gets stressed/overstimulated because he likes small spaces

he has some fairy lights and like one of those dim reading lamps and comfy blankets and pillows and he just sits under the clothes, and often fabian will come and sit and talk to him through the door with his back against it. he knows not to open the door unless riz says because one time he did and it was too bright for riz and he freaked out and scratched him then pulled it closed

Rizs rogue exams aren't anything like the assessments his other friends do for their specialised classes. Hells, his rogue /classes/ aren't like their classes. All their school work is dolled out via cyphers and hidden clues and dead drops of information packets that need to be checked for traps before they're opened.

Given that their normal everyday classwork is that intense their exams are on an entire different level. Riz had spent an entire week "studying" for his exams, on top of the more mundane subjects they also taught at Aguefort, and had only /just/ managed to put the clues together to find out WHERE his rogue exams were taking place before he had to race off to the exam location.

He'd ended up having to ditch his friends that night, everyone else getting together for post-exam celebrations and icecream, in order to book it across town to the stadium. The goal of the exam was searching through the crowd at a massive concert to find their correct contact among a sea of fakes, get the information they needed, and get out without being spotted.

The rogue had already been exhausted before he got there but had to push himself hard to complete his mission. He did it, of course, dodging the fakes among the blaring music and flashing lights and sending a photo of his exam sheet to the proper email inbox before heading home. It was too much for him though, the bus ride home nearly sending him into a meltdown before he even got back to his apartment.

He'd never been super good with concerts, hell he didn't go to any other than Fig and Gorgugs, but at least his friends were smart enough not to use rapidly strobe-ing lighting effects in their shows. Without his light filtering glasses he might not have been able to push through long enough to finish his exam and get home. The rogue collapsing face down on his couch the instant he got home and covering his head with a pillow.

It didn't help that there were several other Aguefort students in the building either, Rizs sensitive hearing able to pick up on the loud music two floors down from their post exam celebrations that was clearly audible due to the shitty soundproofing.

It was at that point that Riz gave up, dragging himself to his room and shucking his vest and button up so he was left with just his soft undershirt. Lights getting flicked off in his room as he clambered into the small space in the bottom corner of his closet and slammed the door behind him. The blankets and clothes he'd stuffed inside doing a good job of blocking out the extra noise as he tried to decompress.

He stayed hunkered down there for a while, how long he wasn't sure but evidently long enough that his friends were sure he was done with his exam. Crystal buzzing with notifications from the group chat as they tried to see how he went.

He didn't answer with words, just sending through a series of photos he'd taken of the concert before turning the camera on himself and switching to video call mode. The closet was dark though so all they could see was his glowing eyes as his crystal screen reflected off them. His own screen getting dimmed as far down as it could go without turning off as his friends accepted the call.

Initially it was a mosaic of five different faces and camera angles of a booth in Basrars, then there was a little scuffling before it was trimmed down to just Figs. The archdevil propping her phone up in the booth where Riz would usually sit.

"Dude hi! You all finished with your rogue stuff?" Fig beamed, getting squished a bit by Kristen and Gorgug as they both tried to squeeze into the camera frame with her.

"Mmm"

"Cool. You passed?"

"Yeah. It was a close thing though."

"But you still aced it right?"

"Yeah." Riz reached behind himself to click on the dim light he kept in the cupboard, propping his phone up on his briefcase which he'd dragged into the closet with him so he could sit up and be properly in the camera view. He was sure he looked haggard after the week of assessments and he couldn't muster the energy to lift his ears out of their tired droop.

"I'm not going to come out tonight sorry. I don't think I could... deal..."

"Oof. One of those nights huh?" Fig made a sympathetic expression at the camera when Riz nodded and rubbed his hands over his face.

Honestly they were lucky he was even verbal at this point but he thought they at least deserved an apology. They'd been gushing about their plans for tonight all week and Basrars had only been the first stop.

"We don't have to go out tonight if you're not feeling it. We can reschedule." Fig picked up the phone and held it so she was the only person in view. Shushing her other team-mates as they tried to pipe in to the conversation.

"Don't... don't cancel on my account it's fine. Just take photos and stuff." Riz sighed, leaning back against the wall and bringing his legs up so he could hug his knees. "I'll feel bad if you cancel."

"Okay. Let us know when you're feeling up to hanging out okay? Got the WHOLE weekend to fill." She blew the camera a kiss, Riz sure she'd just tried to give him bardic over the call, before disconnecting.

The goblin sighed, slapping the light switch to put himself back into comfortable darkness again. Eventually, when he got bored of sitting and doing nothing, he pulled his arcubus out of his bag and started disassembling it to clean and do maintenance. Not even bothering to turn the light back on since he could still see just fine with his dark vision.

He was halfway through cleaning some of the internal components when he heard his front door being unlocked. The sound of several pairs of feet entering his apartment before one broke away and entered his room. Two soft knocks on the closet door announcing their presence properly before they all left, the front door getting shut and locked behind them.

Riz cocked his head to the side and listened for a few minutes after they left, opening the closet door to see what all the fuss had been about. The goblin smiling when he spotted a milkshake in a takeaway cup left just outside his hiding spot, grabbing it and dragging it inside before shutting the door again.

#fantasy high #riz gukgak #bad kids #fig faeth

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differenteagletragedy · 1 year ago

Note

What would actually happen if somehow in some way Baxter actually goes back for the MC he got pregnant

Baxter sat in a desk by the window, idly twirling his pen and glancing out at the grounds. He was taking the last final of his sophomore year, and although he wasn't having trouble with the material, he was having trouble maintaining his focus.

After he turned in his test, that would mean that his summer vacation was starting. And after last year, the idea held a lot more meaning for him.

He looked at the trees, full in bloom now that it was May, and the mountains in the distance. He didn't like to do it too often, but he also let his thoughts wander to you.

What were you doing? Were you happy? Did you still hate him?

Pushing the thoughts away as best he could, he looked back to his paper and finished up the last few questions.

Now he was free.

Baxter wasn't interested in spending the summer in Golden Grove, and he got so much more than he bargained for when he let his parents pick a vacation destination last year. Instead, he decided to keep things simple and stay in Virginia.

His parents had arranged for him to stay in his dorm room for the summer semester, so he hadn't needed to pack any of his things. He saw his roommates off, then settled in for what he was sure would be a quiet, boring, pain-free summer.

Then he started going through his phone.

It started as just a way to pass the time. He checked his email, listened to a bit of music, and before long he found himself in his texts. He knew you'd sent some after he left, but he'd always deleted the notification without looking at them, too scared to read what you said but too lovesick still to get rid of them entirely.

Getting a burst of bravery, he opened the old thread he'd shared with you and got himself up to date on what you'd had to say.

"Please call me, it's important," the first one sent after his departure read. Most of them were like that -- you'd begged him to call you, to answer you, just to communicate with you in some way, and you had something important to say.

It was the last message you'd sent that stopped him dead in his tracks. The one that said that you were pregnant and scared and didn't know what to do.

Before he knew what he was doing himself, Baxter jumped into action. In one hand he held onto his phone, finding the quickest flight out to California. In the other he threw some clothes in a bag. Within a few hours, he was headed west.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I think I'm dying," you told Cove as you waddled around your shared apartment. You were two weeks away from your due date, your belly was round and tight and so heavy, and yeah, this might be what dying feels like.

"You're not dying," Cove told you, giving you a smile from the kitchen where he was making you a milkshake.

You simply moaned in response, too miserable to stay sitting but too top heavy to keep walking. As a sort of compromise, you tried lying down on the couch, but your belly hung over the side too far for even that to work. You groaned again.

"You have two weeks, if that," he told you, handing you your treat as he moved to sit beside you. "I think you can manage."

"The books said that first time pregnancies can go past the due date though," you reminded him. "What if I have another month?"

"Tough break," he grinned cheekily, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

"You're lucky you're cute," you told him grumpily. "And that you make good milkshakes."

Before he could reply, your phone started ringing. Your forever helper, Cove reached over to the side table where it set and went to hand it to you, but when he saw the screen he made a face.

"What?" you asked.

Instead of answering, he just held the phone out to you.

Baxter was calling.

You looked to Cove, confused, but he looked just as puzzled as you were. After a moment, curiosity won and you answered the call.

There he was -- your ex-boyfriend, the father of your baby, and the guy you'd never thought you'd speak to again. From the way he spoke, you could tell that he was trying to hold it together, but there were several emotions he was pushing back. Maybe anxiety, maybe fear. Possibly a touch of regret.

What shocked you the most was that he said he was actually in Sunset Bird. He'd finally seen all the texts you'd sent him, and he wanted to see you. You agreed.

"Well?" Cove asked when you hung up the phone.

"Looks like the ghost is back in town."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A little while later, Cove dropped you off at the tropical place so you could meet with Baxter. He'd offered to go with you, but you told him it wasn't necessary, that you thought you'd need some time alone with Baxter to talk about everything. He reluctantly agreed, but made sure you knew that you just had to call if you needed him and he'd come running.

When you made your way into the restaurant, it didn't take long to spot your old boyfriend -- none of the locals had picked up on his unique fashion sense during his time in the area, and that head of black and white hair stood out anywhere.

It was a a bit more bittersweet than you'd expected to see him again, but when he saw you, you thought he might break down in tears then and there. He stood as you approached the table where he'd been seated, eyes flitting between your face and your belly. When you got there, his shaky hands moved to hold out a chair for you.

He tried for a few pleasantries, long enough for a server to take your orders, but eventually you got to business.

"What do you want?" you asked him.

"I ..." he paused, lost for words, then said, "You had reached out to me."

"Yeah, months ago. You could have just texted me back then. You could have texted me back now. Why did you come all the way out here?"

After another pause, he admitted, "I'm not sure, really. When I heard," he gestured to you here instead of saying the words, "I suppose it was just instinct to come to you. Part of me wants to believe it was for a noble reason, so that I could ... become a father."

Baxter stumbled over those last few words, but still, he soldiered on.

"I believe I told you in part that my own parents were lacking in their warmth," he said. "I'm sure I didn't share any details. The fact is, I did have a good childhood in that I had a roof over my head, food on my plate and a good education. I had many things and experience others envied. But as far as having a truly loving mother and father, I can't say I know what that's like."

He met your eyes then, but you didn't say anything. You sensed he wasn't done quite yet.

"Are you intending on raising this child? It is entirely your choice, of course."

You nodded.

"Right," he said. You saw his right hand move just a bit towards yours, but he stopped himself. and continued. "Then this baby will have a loving mother, full of goodness and warmth. I'm quite aware that I am not as good, not as warm, but ... I am here. And I will try."

"Seriously?" you asked. "It took you five months to answer an 'I'm pregnant' text and you want to try?"

If your words hurt him, he didn't show it. Then again, knowing him -- and you did -- he'd likely been telling himself much worse.

"I would, if you'll have me. I wouldn't wish for any child to wonder why their father doesn't, or can't, love them. I know that pain all too well."

You considered everything he said, then told him, "You said at the beginning that part of you wanted to believe you came here to be noble. What was the other part?"

His lips turned up slightly at the corners, the closest thing to a smile you'd seen that night. Without hesitation, he said "Weakness."

"Huh?"

"I pulled away from you like I did because I couldn't believe that I was someone important to you, or that I had the capacity to become someone important to you. And now, it appears that I do."

He looked down at your stomach then, and a real smile spread across his face. There was a warmth behind it, and you thought you could see a bit of hopefulness as well.

It was confusing, the whole thing. Part of you was thankful for Baxter making the effort to come to you. Another part was still furious that he'd left in the first place and the ignored your pleas for help. There was sadness, excitement, grief, and a tiniest bit of that rush you felt spending last summer with him.

You weren't sure what exactly would happen next. But he was here.

It was a start.

#our life beginnings and always #our life #baxter ward #cove holden #our life baxter #baxter x mc #baxter x reader #baxter x you #baxter ward x reader #baxter ward x mc #baxter ward x you #olba baxter

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weemsgay · 2 years ago

Text

Topic of Study

Can someone tell me why I have two other fics planned besides this and Love Notes??? I'm obsessed.

Larissa Weems x PhDstudent!Reader

Summary: Arriving to Nevermore on fellowship is a normie PhD student writing their dissertation on Normie/Outcast rhetoric and relations. The best way to research is hands-on, so reader has decided to make Principal Larissa Weems their main object of study.

AO3 link

As you exit your Uber in the Jericho town square, you start to glance around for the Nevermore Academy driver expected to meet you. Hm, not here yet. The coordinator you were in contact with offered to have you collected at the train station in Burlington, but you preferred to use the time in the quiet solitude of the Uber to think and prepare instead. Your Uber driver didn’t seem to mind, and for that, you were going to leave a large, thankful tip.

Once out of the car, you were excited to stretch your legs and chug the rest of your water. You check your phone before heading to the trunk for your luggage. You’re not exactly sure who is meeting you now, because there is an automated email saying the usual Nevermore driver is out sick with stomach pox (whatever that is…).

Resolved to figure it out as you go, you pull your bag and suitcase from the trunk and wave a thank you to your Uber driver as they seem to scurry away quickly from Jericho. You begin to walk towards the fountain in the middle of the open space surrounded by shops and sidewalks. The town square looks quaint; you notice a flower shop, a convenience store, a hardware store, and a couple other small businesses throughout the square. However, what truly caught your eye was a café. Caffeine sounded so, so good. Traveling always exhausted you. Too much to think about and plan. It made your anxiety flare.

Heading towards the Weathervane Café and Bakery, you find yourself grateful to have a place to rest for a moment and wait for your now unknown Nevermore driver. The gloomy, overcast sky looked like it could open up and pour rain at any moment.

Shuffling your suitcase in the door to the café, you eye a back booth out of the way so that you don’t disturb anyone with your items. You’re not sure you would bother anyone since there aren’t many people here anyway—maybe the post-lunch lull is in full effect. You notice a black-haired, tattooed barista making an espresso for a customer. After looking around and deeming your belongings safe enough, you dash over to the counter to be next in line.

“What can I get you?” you hear coming from the black-haired woman behind the counter. In response, you ask, “May I please get a light roast vanilla latte for here?” You aren’t sure how long you’ll be waiting to depart for Nevermore. You might as well get comfortable. Before you could mutter “thank you,” the barista nods and takes your outstretched payment before turning around to complete your order.

You briefly walked back over to your claimed booth to take off your jacket and check your phone for any notifications. You didn’t expect the barista to bring you your drink. As far as you could tell, she was the only one working out front. Turning to you, she speaks almost teasing, “New, huh?”

Your eyes meet the luggage at your feet. “Yeah, I guess the suitcase does make it hard to blend in.” You notice the woman has a tousled bob and nose piercing; she stood looking at you, expecting you to continue. “I’m doing a fellowship year at Nevermore Academy to finish my dissertation.”

The barista eyes you suspiciously as if she is trying to make up her mind about something. You catch on and ask “What’s the look for?” Finally, she relents, “Okay, I don’t want to sound insensitive and ignorant, but are you an outcast?”

There it is. Honestly, you were waiting for this question. “No, I’m not. I’m actually researching outcast and normie relations. I figured the best way to dive into the issue was to live it and immerse myself in it as much as I can.” There are only a couple of all-outcast schools in the U.S. You applied to Cresthaven in Virginia and didn’t bother with the one out west. You heard it was in an underground bunker and immediately crossed it off your list. The most promising (and controversial due to recent events) was Nevermore.

To be frank, you were a little nervous for how your research would be perceived after following the news and disruptions here over the last year. Scary…but also kind of exciting having first-hand knowledge and experience relating to your work.

The barista seems to lower her guard. You learn her name is Imogen, and you two begin to share some of the funny TikTok’s you’ve seen about outcasts and normies. You’re giggling when the door opens and a bell chimes signaling a new customer.

The tallest and most attractive woman you’ve ever seen enters. You’re not sure how someone can seem so delicate and feminine yet powerful and in control at the same time. This is coming from someone quite well-versed in queer theory and the wonderful fluidity of gender and power. To have you stumped and frozen by this statuesque woman is quite a feat.

“Oh, there you are!” pronounces the woman cheerfully, as if she had been searching for you. Her voice was lilting, a touch of rasp, and delicious like honey.

You hesitate, trying to find out if your silence would encourage more of the beautiful sound. She then introduces herself as Larissa Weems, the principal of Nevermore. At the end of her detailing what happened with the original driver, you notice you’ve been staring at her throughout her entire introduction. Suddenly, your mouth goes dry and your cheeks flush. Imogen, the barista, chuckles and gives you a wink before backing away to let you flounder.

You begin to reason, “I apologize for not waiting outside where we had planned. I did not know who would meet me, and I wanted to explore a bit of Jericho before heading off.”

“Nonsense. In fact, let’s sit and have a cup together.” The taller woman visits the counter, and you overhear her order a hot chocolate. Jealousy showing, you didn’t even think to order such a cozy drink. You love hot chocolate.

Eventually she comes back over to you with her hot chocolate in hand, also deciding to forgo the to go cup. You attempt small talk, saying you adore hot chocolate and that you should have gotten it in the first place. The principal assures you that it is delicious and lives up to the hype. You vow to order one to go, jokingly. She, unexpectedly, offers you a sip.

Principal Weems had already been sipping the drink, and there were red lipstick stains on the mug. Throwing caution to the wind, you look her straight in the eyes and make a choice to bring your mouth to the same spot hers was. Her momentarily taken aback expression fades quickly into an unreadable façade.

“Mmmmm, you were not lying.” You let out, feeling the warmth travel down your throat. “Thank you for letting me try it.” The other woman looks down at where you had taken a sip and back to your lips. She sees that there is a bit of her red lipstick on your own lips now. She calmly removes the glove from her right hand, leans forward, and swipes her finger across your lips to collect the red residue.

With a smirk and feeling quite cheeky, you remark, “Talk about normie/outcast relations.” The woman looks out the window in an effort to conceal her own budding smirk and seems to be slightly flustered at the interaction. Or possibly the implication.

You’re unsure if she seems flustered due to the likelihood she’s almost always in control or if she has her own internalized barriers to outcasts/normies or sexuality. You file away this information, because, honestly, it was fun teasing her. To your surprise, though, she continues to drink her hot chocolate from the exact same place as before.

You two end up talking for another 45 minutes about your travels, your program, and the work you hope to complete at Nevermore. You ask about her job, the students, and what she does in her downtime on the campus. You also ask her if it’s possible to get some background information surrounding Jericho. In response, she offers to walk around with you if the weather permits.

Before you can fully gather your belongs and head towards the door, Imogen the barista catches you to give you her number and say goodbye. You begin to push your luggage towards the door when Principal Weems offers to carry it to the car for you. After some convincing, you yield to the obviously stronger woman. The taller woman takes your suitcase and bag as if it is the easiest thing in the world to lift, not even wrinkling her fashionable ensemble, and makes her way out of the Weathervane. The van parked across the street is a short trek, and you two place the luggage in the back and lock the car. Principal Weems looks at you expectantly to initiate a stroll in one direction or another.

Of course you are trying to understand as much history surrounding Jericho and Nevermore as you can. Knowing a bit more about the current and past state of normie/outcast relations can kick start your deeper research into local lore. You also can’t help but want to prolong the time you have with the tall and comforting older woman. At your current height, she is almost a foot taller than you, and you must pick up the pace a bit when beside her.

With the scenery change, you finally have the chance to examine the woman without the obstructing table and barista’s curious eyes. Principal Weems embodies femininity in a manner you could never accomplish. She is wearing heels and exquisite clothes; you don’t know anything about designer brands, but you’re sure they pale in comparison to her impeccably tailored clothes. Her hair is frozen in the most pristine updo that liken her to a Hitchcock heroine. You’re not sure a Hitchcock heroine’s figure would hold your eyes as long, though.

You are struck with the overwhelming urgency to know as much as you can about the woman. Does she have secrets? What is her skincare routine? What is the feeling she gets after finishing a good book? How much older than you is she? You’d like to know anything—any morsels of information you can obtain from her or about her.

The two of you continue walking and talking, and occasionally your fingers accidentally brush against each other as your arms swing side by side. The sun is starting to set, and the taller woman looks at her watch and curses under her breath that time has gone by so quickly. She implores that you two need to head to the academy.

Having made it back to the van, you two sit in comfortable silence for the 20 minute drive to Nevermore. Mentally, you make a note to discuss outcast powers and identities since she likely has a wealth of information at her fingers as the head of the school. You hope the older woman is content with you asking about her professional and personal life.

Once Principal Weems carries your luggage up the steps of the school, she informs you of your rooming accommodations. As a fellowship candidate, you will be staying in the faculty residential wing, rather than the student dormitories. You blurt out impulsively, “is that where you stay?” The woman lifts an eyebrow at the inquiry but answers honestly that her living quarters are downstairs attached to her office.

It being fairly late, you part ways with the captivating woman and begin to get settled in your room. You end up going to bed with a warm feeling in your stomach as you ruminate over the day’s activities and conversations. After a few minutes, you sleepily turn over and jokingly jot down a new title for your dissertation thesis.

“Examining Attraction Between Outcasts and Normies: A Case Study of Larissa Weems”

#topic of study #larissa weems x reader #larissa x reader #larissa weems #phd student #grad student #attraction #lust #eventual smut #age difference #fanfiction #ao3 #fanfic #wednesday

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a-chlolix-blog · 6 months ago

Text

Scarabée and Kitty Claws AU

Bea-Loved. An infatuated Super Fan.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~~~~Earlier that day~~~~~

Despite only being around since the beginning of the school year, Scarabée and Kitty Claws have become extremely popular.

Especially among their fellow students.

Before school started, Alya was on a video call with Esmée Rousseau. A schoolmate who has helped her out quite abit with the ScaraBlog.

She's also known in school for being an incredible cosplayer and costume designer.

Alya: The Fan Mail livestream is going to be so great!

Esmée: It involves Scarabée and Kitty Claws, of course it's gonna be a success! With me working my music with the school blog, everyone will know by lunch.

Alya, smirking: Are you gonna gonna submit Fan Mail?

Esmée loves having a friend like Alya.

Someone who is aware of her fangirl crush on both Scarabée and Kitty Claws, but doesn't judge her.

Esmée, blushing: That's for me to know and for you to NOT find out!

Alya, playfully: Is it about which of the is hotter?

Esmée, her face going from red to a darker crimson: ALYA!

The playfully teasing is even fun between the two.

~~~~~Later on at Lycée Françoise Dupont~~~~~~

Alix, walking with Alya to class: Are you sure reading Fan Mail they send you through Email for Scarabée and Kitty Claws on the ScaraBlog is a great idea?

Alya: It'll be fine, for those who wanna be anonymous, they can send hand written letters. That way they won't be embarrassed.

Alix: I take it that the Lady WiFi incident that did wonders for the ScaraBlog inspired this?

Alya: As well as Kitty Claws lying about dating Scarabée, getting Jolie akumatized into a copy of her, and apologizing to her on the ScaraBlog later that same day.

Alix playfully rolls her eyes as the two part ways to sit in their respective seats.

While sitting in her seat, Chloé gets a text from Adrien.

🌟Princely Sunshine☀️: Meant to send this to you after the play. 😉

The text has a very familiar photo attachment.

When Chloé opens it, she sees a picture of her staring at Scarabée before they had to quickly get out of the limousine before it was blown up. From Adrien's point of view.

With a smile, Adrien has his full attention on Ms. Bustier as she talks, fully aware that Chloé was currently staring daggers at him.

Ms. Bustier: Alya, I couldn't help but overhear your plans to read fan mail for Scarabée and Kitty Claws on your blog.

Alya: That's right!

Ms. Bustier: Aurélien passed his spelling test last week and decided he wanted to show Scarabée and Kitty Claws how smart his is through a letter telling them how school he thinks they are.

Alya: I will make sure his letter is the first one I read.

After quickly giving Alya the letter, Ms. Bustier goes back to teaching the class.

~~~~~Later on during the Lunch Break Period~~~~~

Even before Alya entered the cafeteria, her phone's notifications kept going off

Marinette: Whoa, you're gonna have alot of fan mail to read later

Mylène: You should really turn off your notifications before the next class period.

Alya: Oh I will. The letters that have been given to me are WAY easier to keep track of than these notifications. This ScaraBlog Fan Mail reading might have to be a two hour long livestream.

After Alya Marinette and Mylène get their lunch, they sit with Alix, who was sitting with Nathaniel, Marc and Esmée.

Across from their table sat Chloé Adrien and Sabrina.

Sabrina: Did you send an Email?

Adrien: Yeah, but I used one of my private accounts, so my "fans" won't harass Alya or the two heroines.

Sabrina: That was a smart move.

While Adrien and Sabrina talked to each other, Chloé was discreetly writing her own letter while thinking of her plan.

Chloé, internally: This is perfect! After school Kitty Claws and appear before Césaire, give her the letter from Scarabée's "Secret Admirer", she runs it on the blog, and Itty-Bitty's utterly smitten for this "Mystery Woman". Flawless, utterly flawless!

Just as Chloé finished writing her own letter, she hears an unfortunately familiar mocking tone of voice.

"Did you seriously hand write a letter?!"

Chloé quickly, but discreetly balls up her letter, only to quickly realize the question isn't directed at her.

She then looks over at Alix's table and sees Brigiette standing over Esmée, who is covering her letter.

Alix: Brigiette, don't you have ANYTHING better to do than annoying us or stalking Adrien?

Brigiette, ignoring Alix and continues to mock Esmée: Awww!!! You even have a ScaraClaws pin! You're SO obsessed.

Esmée, with her head down: ...

Nathaniel: Says the girl who would be Adrien's second shadow if Chloé and Sabrina weren't there to keep her away.

Adrien, shouting from his seat: He's not wrong!

This causes everyone including a now less guarded Esmée to laugh.

Brigiette notices half of the letter and goes to grab it, only to end up ripping it in half.

All the laughter immediately stops as everyone now stares at Esmée and Brigiette.

Brigiette: Oh please! I did her a favor.

While beginning to cry, Esmée snatches the other half of the letter from Brigiette and runs out of the cafeteria.

Alya and Marinette, running after her: Esmée wait!

Alix, getting out of her seat and walking towards Brigiette: I'm getting suspended!

Mylène and Marc, grabbing Alix's shoulders: No you're not!

Brigiette: If Scarabée and Kitty Claws are just as amazing as my Adrien-

Adrien, shouting from his seat: Not yours!

Brigiette: They'd be absolutely turned off by a mushy anonymous love letter.

Sabrina, shouting from her seat: You would know! You sent him HUNDREDS!

Neither Adrien or Sabrina noticed how quiet Chloé was until she stood up.

Sabrina: Chloé?

Adrien, noticing something in her balled up hand: You okay?

Chloé: I'm gonna get some air. *quickly walks towards the cafeteria's exit*

Chloé, internally: There's no way this Mystery Girl letter would have worked! Your own mother won't even respond to one of your letters, why would Scarabée respond positively?!

When Adrien gets up to follow Chloé, Brigiette goes to follow him, only to be stopped by Sabrina.

Who Brigiette immediately realizes she's WAY stronger then she looks.

Sabrina, politely: You're not going anywhere near him.

Adrien manages to catch up to Chloé before she leaves the cafeteria.

Chloé throws the balled up piece of paper in the direction of the nearest trash can, not even looking to see if it went into the trash.

Adrien: Are you sure you're okay?

Chloé: I told you Adrien, I just need some air. Also I just remembered, I got something to do after school. Meet at your place later?

Adrien: Obviously! I'll let Sabrina know.

Chloé: Thanks.

Chloé then leaves the cafeteria, with her thoughts being a fusion of confidence and insecurity.

Chloé, internally: I don't need some cringey letter written on gold colored paper! Kitty Claws is ALL who is needed to swipe Scarabée off her feet. It HAS to be Kitty Claws...

From the side of his eye, Adrien sees the balled up piece of paper Chloé tried to throw away

Adrien then picks up the paper, uncrumbles it and begins to silently read Chloé's letter.

Adrien: Oh Chloé...

After putting the letter in his pocket, Adrien walks back into the cafeteria.

When Adrien goes back to where he was sitting, notices that Brigiette is no where in sight.

Adrien: Sabrina-

Sabrina: I purpose I only had a talk with her!

~~~~~In the girls' bathroom~~~~~

Marinette and Alya stood outside of Esmée's bathroom stall, trying their best to comfort her.

Marinette: Esmée, it's okay! Brigiette doesn't know what she's talking about!

Alya: Yeah, that girl couldn't take a hint to save her life.

Esmée then opens the stall out walks in front of the two.

Esmée: Thanks you guys, I think I'm gonna be okay now...

Marinette: That's great to hear, now let's go back to the cafeteria.

Alya: I would LOVE to hear more of your cosplay ideas!

~~~~~After School~~~~~

After returning home, Esmée goes into her bedroom.

She admirers the superhero pins she made herself before briefly looking into her closet, looking at the many Scarabée and Kitty Claws themed costumes she managed to make within the short time the heroines have been around.

Esmée, pulling the nearest pillow close to her: What if... Brigiette's right?

She then realizes the pillow is red with black dots and throws it into the wall.

Esmée: DAMNIT! I AM OBESSED!

~~~~~In Hawkmoth's Lair~~~~~

Hawkmoth: A young creative mind fueled by desire and full of doubt...*readies the akuma* the perfect combination. Fly my Akuma and unleash this unrequited soul's true potential.

~~~~~Back in Esmée's room~~~~~

With her window opened, the akuma enters her room and goes into the ScaraClaws pin she has on her shirt.

Hawkmoth: Bea-Loved, I am Hawkmoth. You fear Scarabée and Kitty Claws rejecting you due to your creativity, but with the powers I give you, they'll be the ones admiring you. To keep the power that will win their affections, you just have to bring me their Miraculouses!

Esmée: I will do all that I can for them!

Esmée is then akumatized the Bea-Loved

Her hair is now red hair with black dots. Done up in a neat ponytail.

There are pink hearts in her pupils.

She's now wearing a black and light green strapless dress with her now pink heart-shaped pin in the middle of her chest.

crimson high heels and elegant long gloves to match.

Bea-Loved: Before I greet Scarabée and Kitty Claws! I'm gonna need assistance.

~~~~~At The Louvre~~~~~

Alix was walking through the Louvre with Ayla, Marinette, Nathaniel, Marc, Kim and Max

Alix: Postponing the livestream to tomorrow was the best idea, Alya.

Alya: It's only fair. Esmée should call if she wants to add her letter to the fan mail.

Kim: I don't get way Esmée would wanna keep her letter anonymous. We ALL think Scarabée and Kitty Claws.

Max: It's not that simple, Kim. Our friend Esmée have obviously developed an infatuation with Scarabée and Kitty Claws. She is most likely embarrassed by this fact. Especially considering that there is a 99% chance that she doesn't know their true identities.

Kim, shocked: Seriously?!

Nathaniel: Did you seriously NOT realize this?

Marinette: Could you really not tell considering what happened in the cafeteria?

Mylène: I can understand her wanted to keep crushing on two superheroines a secret. Brigiette's action weren't cool!

Marc: As if she has a right to mock crushing on celebrities...

Alix, to Marc and Mylène: Which is why you two should have let me hit her at least twice.

Marinette Alya Nathaniel and Mylène then get a notification on their phone.

Nathaniel, after quickly reading the text message: Did you three also get a message from Esmée tell you to come over?

Marinette: Yeah.

Alya: Do you think something happened?!

Mylène: I hope she's okay...

Nathaniel: We're just gonna have to find out.

Alix: Keep us posted.

Marinette, Alya, Nathaniel and Mylène then leave the Louvre and go in the direction of Esmée's home.

~~~~~At the Agreste Mansion~~~~~

Sabrina gets a notification on her phone from Esmée as well.

Sabrina: Esmée wants me to come.

Adrien, putting a seal envelope in his jacket pocket: I'll come too. Hopefully I can talk to her about the Fan Mail reading livestream.

Sabrina: But you already sent your message.

Adrien: I REALLY gotta make sure it isn't traced by to me.

Sabrina: That's true... you can never be too careful when it comes to fangirls.

Adrien, internally: Sorry Sabrina, but Chloé's letter to Scarabée is our little secret.

Sabrina: We gotta text Chloé to tell her we won't be here when she returns.

Adrien, already texting her: On it!

After exiting the Mansion, Sabrina and Adrien gets into the limousine that will be driven by Placide.

And with Adrien's demand, the two are being driven in the direction of Esmée's home.

~~~~~At Éclat Épanoui~~~~~

Kitty Claws was looking through the many different flower combinations in the well-known flower shop.

The owner of the shop Lillian Thorns then walks up to her.

Lillian: Do you need any help Ms. Claws?

Kitty Claws: No thanks I think I am fine. And Kitty Claws is just fine.

Lillian: Noted, I hope you find what you're looking for, Kitty Claws. *walks away from her*

Kitty Claws, internally: I know I gotta make it up to Adrien and Sabrina for ditching them later. But if I'm gonna confess to Scarabée it has to be perfect!

Kitty Claws then notices the lavender roses, the amaranthus, and the red tulips.

Kitty Claws: I'll take all of these in a bouquet!

Lillian: Oh! A perfect choice of flowers for romance.

After paying for her chosen bouquet, Kitty Claws leaves Éclat Épanoui.

Kitty Claws: Itty-Bitty's gonna LOVE these! Should I get expensive chocolates too? NO! There shouldn't be ANY hint of my identity for this! Waiting for her to approach me isn't the best idea... I'll look for her.

She the open her the end of her staff, carefully puts the bouquet in it, seals it, and begins her search for Scarabée by jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

~~~~~ In front of Esmée's home~~~~~

As Marinette, Alya, Nathaniel and Mylène walked up to towards the building, they noticed a familiar limousine stopping in the driveway.

Adrien and Sabrina then greet the four of after exiting the vehicle.

Adrien: Hey guys!

Sabrina: Good evening.

Nathaniel: What are you two doing here?

Sabrina: Esmée sent texted me and Adrien's here for support.

Adrien: Clearly alot is needed for the situation...

Adrien, internally: This is a very convenient group.

Mylène goes to knock on the door, only to realize it's opened slightly.

Alya: So... I'm not the only one creeped out by this?

Mylène: Nope, I'm creeped too.

As they're all entered the building, Adrien makes sure to go in last.

While being behind Alya, he manages to slip the envelope into her bag without anyone noticing.

As they're all walking in the direction of Esmée's room, Adrien could help but notice how clean it is.

Adrien: Is her place usually like this? I expected costume materials everywhere from how popular I've heard her costumes and cosplay are.

Alya: Esmée told me that her parents only let her continue cosplaying if she kept it all in her room. Understandable, least cleaning for the three of them.

They all stop in front of Esmée's door.

Marinette feels a chill down her spine before knocking on the door.

Marinette: Hey Esmée, we're here! Also your front door was slightly open.

A cheerful voice on the other side of the door: Oh! I must of left it like that by mistake!

Alya: Also Adrien's here, is that okay?

The cheerful voice on the other side of the door: Of course! The more, the merrier!~

When Marinette opens the door, a glowing pink is launched into her chest which sends her flying into a wheel across the hallway.

Alya Mylène Nathaniel Adrien and Sabrina, absolutely shocked: MARINETTE!

As she falls to the floor, Marinette's body begins to glow pink like the pin in her chest.

Bea-Loved, revealing herself to the group: Marinette's not the only one who will be modeling my heroic cosplay.

Alya, trembling: Esmée... what has Hawkmoth done to you?!

Bea-Loved: The name's Bea-Loved now. And you're all gonna LOVE what I have in-store for you! Isn't that right, Marinette?

Marinette now stands before the group, now dressed in the original Sparrow's costume with pink hearts in her eyes.

Pinned!Marinette: Absolutely. Whatever dearly Bea-Loved wants, she gets!

Before anyone could react, Marinette lungs at Alya and holds her in place.

Alya: Marinette! What are you doing?!

Bea-Loved: Making sure you aren't left out, Alya!~

Bea-Loved then summons a glowing pink heart pin between her fingers and flicks it in Alya's direction.

When it quickly makes contact with her, Alya begins to glow pink like Marinette did.

Alya, transforming: Everyone... get outta here!

The other then start running towards the exit.

This however doesn't stop Bea-Loved from flicking pins into Mylène and Nathaniel's backs, leaving Adrien and Sabrina to be the only ones who managed to escape.

When they both hastily intro the limousine, Placide gets surprised, but doesn't say a word.

Adrien: Take us to The Louvre quickly!

Placide then quickly drives away before Bea-Loved exits the building with her now four minions in cosplay of the former heroes and heroines who took on the Alias Sparrow right behind her.

Bea-Loved: Look for Scarabée and Kitty Claws, my Sparrows!

Pinned!Marinette, Pinned!Alya, Pinned!Nathaniel, and Pinned!Mylène: Yes, Dearly Bea-Loved.

The four minions then run and jump in different directions.

Bea-Loved: I have BIG plans for Scarabée and Kitty Claws!~

Bea-Loved then begins skipping down the street.

~~~~~Back at the Louvre~~~~~

Alix was preparing snacks for her current guests with Jalil's help.

She couldn't but worry about the others, who still haven't returned yet.

Alix: I hope Nate and the others are okay. They still haven't answered any of my texts.

Jalil: I'm sure they're alright.

Kim then quickly runs into the kitchen.

Kim: Alix, you gotta see this!

Alix: What's going on?!

Kim: Nate's down in the Museum wearing the coolest Sparrow cosplay I've ever seen!

Alix then feels a chill run down her spine.

Alix, internally: Something's up. One of them would've at least texted and told us they had a surprise planned. Also, where are the others? It's best to keep my guard up.

When Alix and the others make their way to the Museum, they see multiple people taking pictures of Nathaniel in the Sparrow cosplay.

She couldn't help but notice a shiny pink heart shaped pin the didn't match the rest of the costume.

Minion!Nathaniel: By the orders of my dearly Bea-Loved, I am searching for Scarabée and Kitty Claws. Is anyone aware of their whereabouts?

A random teenaged girl, walking up to him: Before coming here, I saw Kitty Claws-

Adrien and Sabrina through the Museum's entrance.

Adrien: Don't tell him anything!

Sabrina: He's one of the Akuma's Minions!

This causes everyone except for Alix's group to run away from him.

Minion!Nathaniel, turning to face Adrien and Sabrina: DO NOT INTERFERE WITH MY DEARLY BEA-LOVED'S PLANS!

Nathaniel runs towards the two only to be tackled by Kim.

Alix and the ran up to Adrien and Sabrina as Kim barely manages to hold him down.

Marc, panicking: Who is the Akuma that did this to Nate?

Sabrina: Esmée...

Adrien: And Nathaniel's not the only one...

Alix: I take it that you don't know where the others are?

Sabrina: We don't. Sorry...

Max: If one of them is looking for the Heroine Duo, then it is 75% likely that they all are.

Nathaniel kicks Kim off of him and towards the group.

Minion!Nathaniel: Do NOT interfere with my dearly Bea-Loved's mission again.

And with that, he leaves the museum.

Marc: We have to help Nate and the others.

Max: But how? We aren't even aware of the Akuma's powers besides the fact that she’s able to transform others into minions in very accurate cosplay. When it's comes to a weakness or if the others can be freed from her control, we're completely clueless.

Sabrina: Another thing we know is that Esmée has a crush on both Scarabée and Kitty Claws. Maybe we can use that to our advantage?

Adrien: Which means we would have to find Scarabée and Kitty Claws before Bea-Loved or her minions do.

Kim: I saw where that the girl who saw Kitty Claws somewhere went to hide. Let's go ask her!

Alix: You guys go ahead. I'm gonna go back sure Nate left.

Adrien: Will you be alright by yourself?

Alix: Of course.

And with that, Alix quickly left the group.

After running an area of the Louvre with no people around, Tikki flies out of Alix's waist bag.

Alix: Esmée... I can't believe something like a super celebrity crush got her akumatized.

Tikki: Situations like this come with the job, Alix.

Alix: You're right... Tikki, Spots On!

After transforming Scarabée leaves the Louvre to quickly see if Nathaniel was still nearby.

Scarabée: He isn't here. Let's hope KC's at least close to the location that girl saw her at.

When Scarabée enters the Louvre, she immediately noticed by the group.

Marc: Scarabée! Thank goodness you're here!

Max: And with remarkable timing. There is an Akuma who has targeted you and Kitty Claws.

Scarabée: I am aware. I haven't heard from Kitty Claws yet, so she probably isn't aware of the Akuma yet.

Adrien: We've been told she was last seen at the Éclat Épanoui flower shop.

Kim: Do you think she's under Esmée's spell?

Sabrina: Unlikely, if that were the case then she would only be looking for Scarabée.

Kim: Then why would she be at one of the most popular flower shops in Paris?

Adrien: That's... a great question.

Scarabée: Well I hope the owner of the shop has answers. You all stay-

Marc: I'm gonna cut you off right there. With all due respect Scarabée, we're all helping with this.

Scarabée: Are you sure? This could be difficult...

Kim: Not only is the Akuma one of our friends, but our other friends are being controlled as well. We wanna help in anyway we can!

Scarabée: *sighs* Alright, just make sure you all stay outta sight. If the Akuma or her minions spot me, it could be too dangerous.

Adrien: The limo me and Sabrina took here should fit all of us, so we'll be fine.

After leaving the Louvre and watching Scarabée to jump from rooftop to rooftop, the group gets into the Agreste limousine and follows her.

While in mid-air, Scarabée tries to call Kitty Claws, but doesn't get an answer.

Scarabée, internally: KC... where are you? What could you possibly be doing right now?

~~~~~On top of the Eiffel Tower~~~~~

Instead of the staff being on her person, it was sat down away from Kitty Claws, with the heroine not noticing it vibrate at all.

Instead she was pacing back and forth, thinking to herself.

"You give her the bouquet and then what? If she asks, you can't tell her your true identity! There's NO WAY she'd date Chloé Bourgeois! Does that mean I can know HER true identity? I mean that really wouldn't be fair..."

Kitty Claws' pacing is interrupted by one of Bea-Loved's minions lands in front of her.

Pinned!Marinette: Kitty Claws, I have been ordered by my dearly Bea-Loved to escort you to her.

Kitty Claws: That voice... Dupain-Cheng- BAKERY! Girl from the Dupain-Cheng bakery?!

After quickly fixing that near slip-up, Kitty Claws quickly leaps up and grabs her staff.

Kitty Claws: I DON'T wanna deal with Hawkmoth's bullshit today!

Kitty Claws attempts to run at Marinette with her with staff, only for Marinette to stop the prevent the attack from happening by grab her wrist.

Marinette: I will deliver you to my dearly Bea-Loved no matter what it takes!

Marinette then throws her onto a near by rooftop.

Kitty Claws is able to get back up on her feet and throws her staff at Marinette before she could leap at her.

Kitty Claws: Who IS this "dearly" Bea-Loved?

Pinned!Marinette: Only one of the most talented cosplay inspiring costume designers in Paris.

Kitty Claws, internally: Rousseau must have taken that Stalker's words to heart... not that I'm any better.

With a deep sigh, Kitty Claws then lowers her staff.

Kitty Claws: Take me to your "Bea-Loved".

~~~~~Back at Éclat Épanoui~~~~~

The Agreste limousine stops two buildings away from the flower shop as Scarabée swings closer to it.

Adrien Sabrina and Kim watch them while Max and Marc lay lown.

Adrien: We'll be safe here, G. You can take a break now.

Placide then quickly leaves the limousine and runs into a nearby building.

Adrien: He should be back with food in ten minutes.

Kim: Makes helping Scarabée ALOT easier.

Max: Considering there is a 50% chance of Scarabée needing extra help, that also means the Akuma could get extra help.

Sabrina: Which is why we're here to even the odds.

Marc: This will be an Akuma Battle so ANYTHING could happen within ten minutes.

As Bea-Loved leaves the flower shop with a bouquet of red and yellow roses, she looks up and sees Scarabée on top of a street light.

Bea-Loved, excitedly: SCARABÉE!

Scarabée: Oh shit! This that really you, Esmée?

Bea-Loved: The name's Bea-Loved now!~

She then summons four pink hearts pins between her fighters and flings towards Scarabée only for the heroine to block them before jumping onto the ground.

Scarabée: Esmée... being made fun of for liking superheroes must suck, but this isn't the answer!

Bea-Loved: There's no need to be worried about me Scarabée. You'll join me soon enough~

Bea-Loved the presses the pink heart pin on her chest.

Scarabée, internally: I saw Nate with that same heart pin. Could the akuma be in hers?

Bea-Loved, still pressing the pin: My Sparrows, fly to me!

After a few seconds, Mylène Nathaniel and Alya land in front of her.

Scarabée, internally: They all have the pins... the akuma's has to be in the main one.

Bea-Loved then notices that one of her Sparrows is missing.

Bea-Loved: Where is-

Kitty Claws: SPECIAL DELIVERY!

While in the air, Kitty Claws sends Marinette crashing into the other Sparrows before landing in front of Scarabée.

Kitty Claws: Sorry I'm late, Itty-Bitty. Are you okay?

Scarabée: I'm fine. Just focus on NOT getting hit by those pins!

Bea-Loved: My Sparrows, bring them to me!

Mylène and Nathaniel lunged at Scarabée while Marinette and Alya leaped at Kitty Claws.

Scarabée, blocking and dodging their attacks: Nathaniel! Mylène! Snap out of it!

While Scarabée continues her attention on the two Sparrows she fought, she turns her back to Bea-Loved.

Bea-Loved: Got you, Lovebug~

Looking at Scarabée with a smirk, Bea-Loved summons another pin between her fingers and aims for the shorter heroine.

Hawkmoth, communicating through Bea-Loved: You have the shot! Take it now!

Right after getting both Marinette and Alya off of her, Kitty Claws looks at Bea-Loved and quickly realizes what's about to happen.

Kitty Claws, running towards Scarabée: SCARABÉE! LOOK OUT!

Before Scarabée could react, Kitty Claws pushes her through the flower shop's window.

Now noticing that she’s now glowing pink, the black cat heroine falls to her knees.

Kim: MAX-

Max: Connecting my laptop to the limousine now!

Before Bea-Loved could get any closer to the flower shop's entrance, the Agreste limousine comes at her at full speed, knocking her a good distance away after hitting her.

Right here she was hit, Bea-Loved saw Max's face.

As the still transforming Kitty Claws and the four Sparrows go after Bea-Loved, Kim goes into the flower shop to grab Scarabée.

Kim: Sorry about the mess, Ms. Thorn.

Once they were both in the limousine, Max uses his laptop to drive the limousine as quickly as possible away from Bea-Loved and her Sparrows.

Hawkmoth, communicating through Bea-Loved: SCARABÉE'S GETTING AWAY! GO AFTER HER NOW!

Bea-Loved: There's no need to worry about her, my Knight Kat's got this cover~

Kitty Claws then finishes her transformation into a fusion of her own heroine persona and the New York heroine Knight Owl.

Knight Kat: Anything my dearly Bea-Loved wants, she gets!

After driving the limousine until Bea-Loved and her minions out of sight, Scarabée and the other hid in a candy shop called "Sucrée Symphonie".

Sabrina: How is she gonna be defeated? Kitty Claws got pinned and we don't know where the akumatized item is...

Scarabée: Considering that all of the minions we've seen so far have on a pink heart pin, I'm betting that it's the pin Esmée has on her chest. We just need to find out if she has a weakness of some kind...

Marc: I can help! Out of all of us here, I haven't been by Bea-Loved nor have I tried to hurt her minions.

Max: He's correct. Sabrina and Adrien escaped being transformed, Kim tackled Nathaniel, and I'm 100% sure Esmée and I made eye contact before I hit her with the limousine.

Scarabée then pulls two earpieces out of her yo-yo.

Scarabée, giving an earpiece to Marc: Considering that the Agreste limousine draws ALOT of attention, they'll be here soon. I'll sneak the others out the back.

Marc: Hopefully Esmée is still so very detailed...

~~~~~Outside of Sucrée Symphonie~~~~~

Bea-Loved, Knight Kat and the Sparrows had the Agreste limousine surrounded.

Marc, running out of the candy shop: Oh WOW! You cosplay is SO amazing!

Bea-Loved: Why thank you, Marc! Knight Kat, Sparrows, Stand down. He's a friend.

Marc: With how powerful you are, there's NO WAY you could have any weaknesses.

Bea-Loved: Considering that your creative self didn't catch a certain detail, I'm proud of the design. There's actually a weakness!

Marc: Oh really?

Bea-Loved: Yeah, if Scarabée kisses one of my minions, they'll be the only one freed from my control. But if Scarabée were to kiss me, they'd all be freed from my control!~

Marc: So very genius! Hawkmoth could NEVER!

Bea-Loved: Not without MY ideas-

Hawkmoth, communicating through Bea-Loved: FOCUS ON FINDING SCARABÉE!

Bea-Loved: *rolls her eyes* Talk to you later, Marc!

And with that, Bea-Loved and her minions leaped away.

Marc: You get that, Scarabée?

Scarabée: Yeah. Never thought I'd have to act out a fairytale. Good work, now go hide with your friends. I can take it from here. Lucky Charm!

After using the magical luck power, two smoke bombs and flower bouquet wrap.

Scarabée: The smoke bombs I get, but why bouquet wrapping? I'll have to feature this out fast.

She then puts one of the smoke bombs and flower bouquet wrap in her yo-yo before going after the cosplaying akuma.

Scarabée manages to stay hidden from Bea-Loved and her minions as she caught up to them.

Knight Kat was standing the closest to Bea-Loved when a smoke bomb is thrown at them.

Bea-Loved: My Knight, protect me!

Knight Kat: Cataclysm!

Knight Kat had her cataclysm ready for anything that would attack her from the front, the smoke make her blind to an attack from behind.

Scarabée surprises her with a tornado kick, flinging her into the nearest alley and quickly runs to tackle her.

When the smoke clears, Bea-Loved immediately notices Knight Kat's absence.

Bea-Loved: Knight Kat, come to me! .... Knight Kat?!

In the alley, Scarabée was on top of Knight Kat, kissing her lips as she slowly turned back into Kitty Claws.

Scarabée, internally: Sorry KC, hope you'll forgive me for this...

When Scarabée finally pulls away, she sees the heart pin break into pieces.

Kitty Claws: Itty-Bitty? What happened? What is my cataclysm activated?!

Scarabée, quickly gets off of her: What all do you remember?

Kitty Claws: After saving you from being a controlled cosplayer, everything's a blur-

Scarabée: Don't worry about what you can't remember! I need your help to quickly feature out what to do with flower bouquet wrap.

Kitty Claws: Did you say flower bouquet wrap?

Scarabée: Yeah?

Kitty Claws then opens her staff and quickly but carefully pulls out the bouquet of carefully wrapped and selected flowers.

Scarabée: And thanks to you, we've got a away to defeat the Akuma.

Kitty Claws: Oh Itty-Bitty, you flatter me! Where's the akuma?

Scarabée: In the pink heart pin on her chest.

Scarabée then reveals her to Bea-Loved.

The cosplaying Akuma then quickly notices the bouquet of flowers in Scarabée's hands.

Scarabée: Bea-Loved, I wanna show you how much your work is appreciated. Which is why I got these gorgeous flowers.

Bea-Loved: Oh Scarabée-

Hawkmoth, communicating: DON'T DO IT! IT'S A TRAP!

Bea-Loved: Don't ruin this for me!

Ignoring Hawkmoth Bea-Loved runs towards Scarabée, only for Kitty Claws to leap from the alley and throw the second smoke bomb between them.

Bea-Loved: WHAT-

With just a poke from her cataclysmed finger, Bea-Loved's pin falls to pieces and the akuma flies out of it.

Scarabée then uses her yo-yo to catch it purifies it and releases the now pure butterfly.

Using her Miraculous Cure, she throws the bouquet in the charmed wrappings into the air and fixes everything.

When Esmée and the others are turned back to normal, Kitty Claws pulls Scarabée into yet another victory selfie.

Kitty Claws couldn't help but smile as the flowers fell around both her and Scarabée

Scarabée: See ya KC!

Kitty Claws: See ya...

The two heroines then part ways.

Esmée then runs towards Marinette Alya Mylène and Nathaniel.

Esmée: YOU GUYS! I'M SO SORRY!

Alya: You don't need to apologize, Esmée!

Marinette: This was Hawkmoth's fault, not yours!

Nathaniel: It's all okay now.

Mylène: Let's go back to your place.

Esmée: Thanks you guys...

Alya: We don't even have to talk about the fan mail livestream if you don't want to.

Esmée: I will be changing my letter for sure!

Alya: We've got all day and the rest of tomorrow to help you come up with ideas.

~~~~~The next afternoon~~~~~

Chloé Adrien and Sabrina were watching the ScaraBlog's fan mail livestream.

Sabrina: Esmée sending an Email instead of an anonymous letter was so nice.

Adrien: Sounds like she isn't crushing on Scarabée and Kitty Claws anymore. Wish some of MY fans were like her...

Chloé: You'll probably be wishing for a long time.

Alya, from the phone: And now for our final letter for the stream!

When Alya takes a very familiar piece of crumbled paper out of the envelope, Chloé's eyes go wide.

Chloé, internally: That's... oh no!

"Scarabée, you're not only my favorite of the two heroines, but you're an amazing inspiration to me. Seeing how you can pull through even the toughest situations leaves me in awe. Everytime I see you, it's like you manage to become even more incredible everyday. I hope you continue to be your beautiful and badass self."

Sabrina: Whoa... that was a really sweet one.

Adrien: Such a nice way to end the stream, right Chloé?

Chloé: R-right.

It took everything in Chloé to not bury her face into her pillow.

Sabrina: I wonder who sent it...

Adrien, smirking: I'm sure Scarabée will be so flattered no matter who it is.

Chloé, muttering: Shut it, Adrien!

~~~~~Later that night~~~~~

With Adrien and Sabrina gone home, Chloé was getting ready for bed when Plagg flies up to her.

Plagg: Are you still embarrassed by your letter being read on the ScaraBlog-

Chloé: Adrien HAS to be the one who submitted it! I know he wanted to cheer me up, but WHY do that?!

Without realizing it, Chloé ends up pacing on her balcony.

When she stops to look up at the sky, she sees Scarabée jumping from rooftop to rooftop.

Chloé: Plagg, Claws Out!

After Scarabée lands top of the Eiffel Tower, Kitty Claws lands behind her second later.

Kitty Claws: What brings you out and about Itty-Bitty?

Scarabée: Just thinking... I saw the ScaraBlog's fan mail livestream.

Hearing this causes Kitty Claws' heart to beat rapidly.

Kitty Claws, fake laughing: Oh yeah that! I already forgot about it! So lame!

Scarabée: I'm gonna let the bitchy mean girl bit slide tonight. I for one thought the messages were very sweet.

Kitty Claws: Y-you did?

Scarabée: Yeah, especially that last message... if I can inspire more people like that messenger, this hero stuff can get alot easier...

Kitty Claws, beginning to blush: Okay, many not ALL of the letters were lame...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Inspired by: @emdoddles @princess-of-the-corner @muggle-born-princess @dcschart @justanotherpersonsuniverse @symphonic-scream

#Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir #Chloé Bourgeois #Chloe Bourgeois #Alix Kubdel #Chloe x Alix #Chlolix #Aloé #Scarabée and Kitty Claws AU #AUs #Kwami Swap #OCs

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cels-not-so-secret-love-affair · 2 months ago

Text

falling to the music pt. 2 (jily)

a/n: part 2 to my band au jily noodles arrives! featuring coffee, more of mary and a slight misunderstanding…

previous | next

Lily goes four whole days with no new messages. Okay, fine, her friends text her, and she gets some emails from university about upcoming assignments, and her Waterstones app cheerily supplies to her the hottest novels of the month in a push notification, but she doesn’t get a text from James, which means none of that counts. And Lily is not bothered about this in the slightest. She’s fine about it, dandy even. Her friends have not complained about the new habit she’s developed of checking her iMessages every spare moment she has. Only, maybe they have. Once. Or twice. Or thrice. It’s just she thought it had gone so well. She had flirted, hadn’t she? And he had been interested, or so she’d thought. He’d gone to get her a pen, for fuck’s sake. She’d written her number on his skin. She’d basically temporary tattooed him, it was a Sharpie and everything. But she hears not a peep from him, so apparently he’s just a typical guy-in-an-indie-rock-band who flirts with girls and never follows up. Which is fine, honestly - that’s his prerogative. All it means now is she’s got to learn to quell the incessant and unrelenting desire to see him again. Easier said than done, though.

It’s a Saturday when she decides to ring Mary up and meet her for a coffee. This is what I need, she thinks. I just need to let it all out in one sitting and then move the fuck on. I only bloody met him once. So she dresses up. She picks out that nice skirt she got in a charity shop in York and her pair of sixties style boots and douses herself in perfume, and goes marching out to enjoy a good old rant and a latte. She’s determined to have a nice morning, and to have everything go her way for once. And she almost gets that. Almost.

The coffee shop, to its credit, is exactly as she wanted it to be. An independent joint on a pretty street corner, it’s perfect for people watching, and decorated quite pleasantly with all sorts of vintage knickknacks. She likes it. It’s unknown enough that it doesn’t get too busy, and not so awfully pretentious that it doesn’t have any proper seating. Seriously, why does no one seem to want to let you sit down anymore? Settling herself comfortably in a gorgeous green armchair by the window, Lily sets her phone face down firmly on the table. She vows silently and fervently to herself that she will not check it until she has left the building. Then, she pulls out her novel, Emma - which is in every aspect the perfect comfort book - and contents herself to caring solely about what’s going on in Highbury. So far, so good.

Mary turns up about ten or so minutes late, despite her optimistic suggestion over the phone earlier that this time it might only be five. This is not an issue though because Lily knows her best friend like the back of her hand, and thus knows better than to believe that she might arrive on time. Things are still as they ought to be.

‘Right then, Lils,’ Mary says after having brought over their drinks. ‘I have it on good authority that we’re pissed off today, is that correct?’

‘However did you guess?’ Lily deadpans.

‘Oh, I think the scowling at your mobile whilst I was in the queue may have tipped me off. It’s about that guitarist of yours, isn’t it?’

‘Obviously, yeah. Him, and the fact that men are the root of all evil.’ At this, Mary throws her hands up as if in worship, closing her eyes and humming appreciatively.

‘Too damn right, babe. Although I will say, dating girls can still be tricky.’

‘Yeah, but I reckon I’d probably feel like less of a fool if I was this hung up on a pretty girl. Instead I’m here whining about not getting the attention of a good-for-nothing, piece of shit, stupid fucking man. Christ.’ She reaches forward to take a sip of her coffee, looking somewhat defeated.

‘He still hasn’t texted you I take it?’

‘Not once. I don’t know what I did wrong, Mary. I thought he liked me. You saw him, you saw how Sirius introduced me. Didn’t he like me?’

‘I mean yeah, it looked like it. I’m sure you didn’t do anything wrong, so don’t go blaming yourself for it. Guys fall at their feet for you. Maybe he does want to text you, but can’t. Maybe there was an emergency so he’s been too busy to think about dating, or maybe he’s a flustered coward who can’t work up the courage to ask you out, or maybe he’s driven off to the Welsh countryside on a lads trip to fuck about with his mates and didn’t realise he wouldn’t have any service. Or maybe it’s none of those things, and he isn’t interested at all. Whatever it is, you can’t start losing all your marbles ‘cause you’re waiting for a text.’ Mary puts both her hands down on the table palms up, and waits for Lily to take them. When their hands are slotted properly together, she gives a gentle squeeze and continues.

‘You, Lils, are a wonderful woman. And you have a wonderful woman’s life full of all sorts of wonderful things. Don’t waste it fretting over some bloke in a band.’ Lily takes a deep breath.

‘You’re right,’ she sighs. ‘You always are.’

‘I know,’ Mary answers with a smile.

‘Thanks. For putting up with all this, I mean. I promise I’ll be back to my usual self now. Nice, normal, non-boy-obsessed Lily.’

The phone that had been set face down on the table about twenty minutes ago chooses this moment as the perfect opportunity to buzz. The vibration sends it inching closer to the boundary between the safe, charted territory of antique mahogany wood, and the sheer drop down to the floor as if it, too, aches for the sweet release of death. Fuck me.

‘Fancy checking that?’ Mary asks sweetly.

‘Nope. No. No can do. Not going to check it.’

‘You can if you want to. We’ve all been there, I won’t judge.’

‘I have more resolve than that. I just said I’m back to normal. I don’t care if it’s him or not, I’m not going to look.’ Mary just stares at her. It’s not in any way critical, nor condemnatory. If anything, it just looks like she’s waiting it out. Lily counts about ten seconds of pained eye contact before-

‘I’m so sorry, I have to look.’ She snatches her phone from where it’s ended up suicidally near the edge of the table, taps it to light it up and of fucking course. There it is.

iMessages: Unknown Number

hii :) it’s james. is this lily?

‘Is it him?’ Mary has one eyebrow raised.

‘Fucking- yeah, it’s him.’

Lily wants so desperately to ignore the message. Here is a man who’s made her feel so incredibly pathetic, so incredibly angry, and he’s just waltzed on into her notifications without a care in the world. She shouldn’t dignify him with a response. And yet.

Lily: Lily Evans speaking.

James: oh, yay! okay perfect. well, hopefully you know who i am then. i’m the guitarist from the gig, like four days ago? you wrote your number on my arm.

Lily: Mhmm.

James: listen, i’m really sorry i didn’t get in contact sooner

James: you remember how when we were chatting that night i told you i was a dunce?

Lily: I do recall.

James: that is the truest thing i have ever said in my whole life. i am a dunce. i am stupid to the point of being unsalvageable. i am, you might say, a total buffoon.

Lily: And all this to say, what?

James: i dropped my phone :((

Lily: That’s why you haven’t texted me for four days? You dropped your sodding phone?

James: down an entire flight of stairs!

James: completely killed it

James: basically shot it dead and then broke both its legs for good measure

Lily: Right.

James: so then i was going to text you on sirius’ phone, but sirius is awful for pranks, and i didn’t want him to do something dickish or pretend that i died or something just to mess with you

James: he’s my best mate and i love him half to death, but he’s a bit of a knob sometimes

James: you don’t deserve that

James: and then remus is a fossil who still carries around a fucking nokia brick looking thing that i don’t even know how to use like he’s someone’s grandpa

James: no luck there

James: and peter was away with his girlfriend for their anniversary

James: so i had to wait till i got a new phone sorted to be able to message you

James: i’m really sorry :(

Mary takes a sip of her hot chocolate and looks somewhat disdainfully at Lily’s phone.

‘Chatty, isn’t he?’ Lily pulls an apologetic face.

‘I promise I won’t text him forever, I’m just… processing. Give me two minutes and I’m with you.’

Lily: I’m out with a friend right now so I can’t chat. But fine, I accept your apology. I’ll call you later and we can talk properly.

James: okay! absolutely no worries. talk to you soon?

Lily: Yes. Talk to you soon. But I’m still angry at you, so you’d better be on your best behaviour.

James: yes ma’am.

Lily clicks her phone shut, and pinches the bridge of her nose.

‘What did he say?’

‘He couldn’t text me because he chucked his phone down the stairs.’

‘Oh?’

‘And I hate to say it but… I buy it. It’s something he’d do.’ Mary humphs, unimpressed.

‘You still want to see him, then?’

‘I- yeah, yeah I do. He’s really… he’s really nice.’

‘Well then. Let’s see how Mr Nice keeps up.’

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player1064 · 9 months ago

Note

despite being a very in shape man the amount of times jamie’s ever been seen shirtless (that i’m aware of anyway) is depressingly few and i’ve always hc that it’s because of his stomach scars so maybe some insecure about his scars jamie and gary who just thinks everything about his tall hunk of a man is incredibly sexy

this ended up a lot more 'silly holiday fluff' than 'jamie being insecure' though like. he IS insecure about it u just have to look at his instagram to see it bc honestly WHY ELSE DOES HE ALWAYS WEAR A TSHIRT ON THE BEACHHHHH!!!

---

Despite the break between Premier League seasons being three months long, the reality of punditry (or at least, the reality of punditry as done by Gary Neville) is that you end up getting pulled in to cover the international tournaments, and then the off-season tours, and then the pre-season ramp-ups. Then, of course, there’s all the non-football business admin, always thoughtfully pushed to the summer months so as not to distract from the season, and the podcast is an every-week-of-the-year type of thing, so no breaks there. Which all adds up to allow for a generous two-week – at a stretch – summer holiday each year.

Gary was the winner of this year’s ‘holiday destination’ argument, so he and Jamie are at his house in Malta, spending their precious two week break doing fuck all besides sitting round the pool or wandering down to the beach. A housekeeper comes by every morning to prep their breakfasts and lunch, and they go out for dinner most nights, revelling in their ability to go out on the town unrecognised.

He's even turned off his email notifications. Sure, his assistant is still sending him any important updates, but only because two weeks is an awfully long time to be completely off the grid for, and this is the compromise he and Jamie were able to reach after another couple of hours arguing.

Today, he wakes to sunlight streaming through the sheer curtains and to Jamie, sat on the edge of the bed with a freshly brewed cup of coffee for him.

The first thing he sees when he blinks his eyes open is Jamie smiling at him, leaning down to brush a gentle kiss over Gary’s lips. “Mornin’, lazy bum,” he says, and Gary can’t help but smile back.

“Mornin’, you,” he replies, reaching his arms above his head to stretch with a yawn. “Y’sleep alright?”

“’bout six hours, yeah,” Jamie says, clearly pleased with himself. If it was anyone else, Gary would think he was out of his mind. But it’s Jamie, so he knows he’s out of his mind. And, unfortunately, while a six-hour sleep might leave Gary cranky and exhausted, for Jamie it’s almost luxurious. “Just got back from me run, the sea’s lookin’ gorgeous. Fancy a beach day today?”

Gary hums in agreement, far too preoccupied with the mug of coffee he’s sipping at to contribute much else to the conversation.

“Sound, okay then. Just need a quick shower, then I’m all yours.”

“D’you want company?” Gary offers.

Jamie scrunches his face up. “Ugh, I’m all sweaty ‘n disgustin’ though.”

“’s how I like you, to be fair.”

Jamie rolls his eyes, but he takes Gary’s hand and tugs him out of bed and towards the bathroom.

The beach closest to the house is a small one, but it’s only really accessible from the other handful of houses on the street, so it’s blissfully quiet. When they walk down there Gary immediately gets himself set up in a sun lounger with the book he’s been reading, ignoring Jamie’s pleas to come for a swim with him.

“Maybe later, James, leave me in peace fer a bit,” he teases, laughing when Jamie walks down to the water grumbling about what a lazy cunt he is.

This, of course, is a mistake on Gary’s part. Because when Jamie’s done with his swim, he comes over and pushes his way onto Gary’s chair, draping himself all over him while still soaking wet.

Gary screeches.

“My fuckin’ book, Jamie, th’ pages are gonna get all wrinkled now!” he complains, trying to push Jamie away.

Jamie presses closer, nuzzling his cold nose into Gary’s neck.

“You filthy, filthy Scouser,” Gary says, but he’s stopped his attempts at pushing Jamie and has instead let his hands lie still on his torso, fingers curling into the wet fabric of his t-shirt. “You wait until – oi!”

He cuts himself off, frowning at the t-shirt under his hands.

“Oi?” Jamie asks, one eyebrow raised.

“This is mine, you dickhead, now it’s gonna be all stretched out, an’ the saltwater’s gonna fade it… I fuckin’ liked that shirt.”

“Think my wallet can stretch to buy you a new t-shirt, prissy fuck.”

“It’s the principle of the thing.”

“I’ll buy it from Stone Island.”

Gary should probably take a moment to at least pretend to consider the offer, but he’s on holiday and maybe today that means cutting to the chase and just saying “fine.”

“There we are.”

“But you’re still not wearin’ this one, c’mon, off w’it.”

“Oh my god,” Jamie argues, rolling his eyes. “I didn’t bring down a spare, all mine are in the wash. I can’t be fucked to walk all the way back to house, Gaz, can’t y’just leave it? I’ll buy you two t-shirts, even.”

“It’s thirty degrees, Jamie, not a single cloud in the sky! We’re at the beach! Dunno about you, but I never found the farmer’s tan a particularly sexy look, you’d be better off if y’just went without.”

“Gary…” Jamie sighs.

“I’m serious,” Gary says, tugging at the hem of the t-shirt. “There’s what, two other people on this whole beach? Three? An’ I’m sure they ‘ave better things to look at than you. A mouldy log, maybe. Or what’re them fishes called, the ones with the noses? I bet y’could strip right down naked an’ nobody’d blink an eye.”

“’m not strippin’ down naked in public, lad.”

“I’m not askin’ you to.”

“You’re bein’ awful precious over a t-shirt, considerin’ what you’ve got in the bank.”

“I could give a fuck about the t-shirt,” Gary says quickly. “Now that you’ve ruined my book maybe I need somethin’ nice to look at, t’pass the time.”

Jamie looks away from Gary, a faint red flush to his face. “Find you a mouldy log, then,” he mutters.

They’re on holiday, so Gary decides he can allow himself to spout a bit of sentimental rot. These opportunities only come round once a year, after all. He slips his hand under Jamie’s shirt, rubs his thumb gently over the rough skin underneath.

“Eh, think I’d much rather look at you,” he says, soft and sweet and everything that makes him want to wash his mouth out with soap.

“Clingy, aren’t we?” Jamie says, grinning. He pulls away for a second, tugs the shirt over his head. “Y’only look at me every day of yer fuckin’ life, Christ, maybe I need t’get a restrainin’ order.”

Gary tugs him back down to shut him up the best way he knows how.

#thank you elle for the prompt!! hope u like them being dumb and in love. but at the beach this time #carraville #drabbles

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