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up-in-space-reading · 4 months ago

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Average Weekly Screentime - Chap 5: Happy Holidays

pairing: Jake Peralta x Amy Santiago

word count: 1323

warnings/tags: college au, texting, drunk texting, text fic (mostly, there's prose a few chaps in), bets, bisexual!jake peralta, jake peralta has adhd, parties, drinking and alcohol, sexual references, implied sexual content (nothing explicit, just suggested its going to happen/has happened), friends to lovers, swearing, mentions of cannibalism, lighthearted threats of violence (typical rosa stuff yk), fluff

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Average Weekly Screentime masterlist

Story Summary: texting fic college AU with the squad! It's the beginning of the school year and while everyone else thinks it'll be the same as the previous year, Gina has a feeling things are going to be different and wagers a bet with Rosa and Charles. Told through all the various group chats everyone is in.

authors note: This is a bit of a shorter one but I wanted to get something out before the previously talked about NYE party!

[07:12pm, Saturday]

Cameron: 1 image attached Cameron: It’s delicious in case you were wondering

Ferris: SO mean to send me pics of soup rn

Cameron: Haha sorry, not sorry Cameron: If it’s any consolation the soup comes at the cost of my sanity

Ferris: do elaborate

Cameron: My nieces and nephews are ensuring there is not a moment of peace and/or quiet in this house

Ferris: one day we can trade spots Ferris: u can sit with my mom and d a d (gross) all by urself

Cameron: Your dad is there??

Ferris: worst christmas present ever tbh

Cameron: That sucks, I’m sorry.. Cameron: And sorry for complaining

Ferris: nah that’s okay Ferris: im handling it by giving him dirty looks whenever he turns away from me

Cameron: If it gets you through the day then I support that Cameron: I used to do that to my brothers sometimes (and maybe still do)

Ferris: am i surprised that you do that? no lol

Cameron: Hey! I’m not that predictable

Ferris: not entirely but a little bit lol

Cameron: Sorry, gotta go. My mom asked me who I’m texting and when I said ‘my friend Jake’ it opened a whole can of worms

Ferris: hahaha have fun with that one

Cameron: Thanks lol

Jimmy Jabbers

[08:35am, Monday]

Four Eyes: Happy Christmas guys

Pineapples: merry chrimmas

Mr Grapes: thanks Amy! Merry Christmas everyone :)

Queen G: yeah same

RoRo: cool

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[07:45pm, Thursday]

Ferris: when r u coming back?

Cameron: Tomorrow, why?

Ferris: just wondering

Cameron: The time will fly by, I promise

Ferris: if u say so

The time wouldn’t fly by. He was convinced time was moving slower without her. It was pathetic, he was fully in it now, even his mother said he talked about her a lot and he didn’t even notice he was doing it.

Having his dad home was hard, and his mom seemed to be fine with it but Jake didn’t come around as easily anymore. You can only be fooled so many times he’d say to himself. He wanted to talk to Amy, he wanted to forget his dad was back and just be with his mom. Jake from a year ago would’ve kicked himself for thinking this, but he missed studying in the library with her.

Jake just wanted to be back in the environment he’d gotten so comfortable in so quickly, with his friends and his dorm and his Amy. He was going back on the same day as Amy, he asked when she’d be back because he missed her, and in a moment of weakness after too much spiked eggnog he actually messaged her.

It took a lot of will power to resist calling her, eventually putting his phone under his pillow and going to sleep just to stop himself. When he woke up the next morning he realised how hard New Years is going to be; his walls come down when he drinks, and right now the walls were the only thing stopping him from just pouring his heart out to Amy.

He missed her so much.

She missed him too much.

Amy didn’t want to admit it to herself at first but it didn’t take long, when she found herself messaging Jake about soup of all things. She just wanted to talk to him about something- anything! She kept thinking about how her brothers would love Jake, he’d fit right in despite the crazy atmosphere being so different to his own family holidays.

A few glasses of wine too many finally let her think about her feelings for him, and that’s how she ended up shedding a few tears on the floor of her childhood bedroom deciding that she really did like Jake – a lot. But after some hours of being frustrated Amy let go, she decided to give in and let herself miss Jake.

She let herself laugh at his messages, she let herself smile at the thought of him and look forward to the study dates after the holidays. She even let herself be excited for the day she went back to campus and the New Years Eve party, and in the middle of the night when she couldn’t sleep and everything was quiet, she considered being with him.

Only one more day until she saw him again.

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[02:07pm, Friday]

Cameron: Finally on my way back to campus!

Ferris: i just got here like 10 mins ago Ferris: have u had lunch or do u wanna get something?

Cameron: My mom made me eat before I left, but if you’re going out I’ll tag along

Ferris: cool cool cool

Cameron: When does everyone else get back?

Ferris: tomorrow

Cameron: Cool cool

[02:40pm, Friday]

Cameron: Back now, sorry I was so long. If you’ve already eaten and don’t want to go out that’s fine

Ferris: thats fine Ferris: im good to go!

Cameron: Meet you in the courtyard then!

Ferris: see ya

[04:27pm, Friday]

Ferris: 1 image attachment Ferris: when u see this when u get home: sorry lol

[06:48pm, Friday]

Cameron: You’re so evil for that! Cameron: I was in the middle of sneezing

Ferris: hahaha im sorry ames it was just perfect timing

Cameron: …it IS a bit funny..

Ferris: you have full permission for payback

Cameron: Didn’t need permission, already started plotting

Ferris: oh no…

Cameron: :)

Jimmy Jabbers

[01:23pm, Saturday]

Queen G: guess whos back on campus and still hot af

Pineapples: ginaaaaaaaaa girl I missed u

Queen G: i know Queen G: everyone misses me when im gone because im wonderful to be around

RoRo: good god what did the holidays do to you

Pineapples: i dont notice a difference??

Four Eyes: Welcome back everyone!

Mr Grapes: Back in town and ready for new years tomorrow!

Pineapples: cant believe the year is over already Pineapples: anyone got new years resolutions?

Mr Grapes: I wanna raise my average grade

Queen G: im literally perfect so no

Four Eyes: I haven’t thought about it to be honest

Pineapples: mine is to actually finish my work as i get it

RoRo: fix up my bike

Skipping School Is(n’t) Cool

[01:28pm, Saturday]

Cameron: draft message: My new years resolution is to ask you out

Ferris: draft message: kiss me tomorrow at midnight??

Cameron: Excited for the party tomorrow?

Ferris: of course! Ferris: you?

Cameron: Surprisingly yes Cameron: draft message: because you’ll be there

Girls, Girls, Girls

[10:30am, Sunday]

Amy: Quick question, what are you guys wearing tonight?

Rosa: black Rosa: something warm, its fucking freezing

Gina: i was thinking a fur coat but idk Gina: i dont want a drink spilling on it and ruining it

Amy: Right okay Amy: Could I get away with jeans?

Gina: depends what jeans and what top Gina: if ur gonna go jeans then go black

Amy: I can do black

Gina: what r ur top options??

Queens, Legends, Icons

[10:35am, Sunday]

Rosie: what are you doing gina?

Ginaa: what?? Ginaa: im helping amy

Rosie: you’ve never offered Amy fashion advice before Rosie: why now?

Ginaa: because theres a party tonight rosa

Rosie: oh my god

Ginaa: idk what ur accusing me of????

Rosie: you want them to kiss at midnight

Ginaa: i said no such thing!

Rosie: what about your bet? Rosie: they get together tonight and you lose

Ginaa: i dont even care that much about losing anymore im so invested

Rosie: no meddling gina

Ginaa: this technically isnt meddling ;) Ginaa: im just being a good friend

Girls, Girls, Girls

[10:43am, Sunday]

Amy: 1 image attachment Amy: 1 image attachment Amy: These are some of my options at the moment, thoughts?

Gina: im coming over

Amy: What??

Gina: im coming over Gina: im bringing more options and we r gonna workshop this

Amy: Uh okay then Amy: Thanks Gina

Gina: np

Queens, Legends, Icons

[10:47am, Sunday]

Rosie: fucking hell

Ginaa: love my life

authors note: Thanks for reading and for commenting and leaving kudos, everytime i get a kudos notif it motivates me to write more so I appreciate all the love <3

#alice writes #jake peralta x amy santiago #jake peralta #amy santiago #gina linetti #rosa diaz #charles boyle #fluff #college!au #bisexual!jake peralta #brooklyn nine nine #b99 #multi chap #average weekly screentime

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stingrayloveblog · 9 months ago

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More side order criticism and complaining that you are under no obligation to read

I get that side order was a roguelike which apparently tend to be short? Idk ive never played one before but anyway that still doesnt justify the initial hype, the blatant change in aesthetics and plot (remember the first trailer? And the second trailer i think with the lobby doors looking VERY different and matching what we saw in the concept art trailer) almost last second fnaf security breach style, and the amount of stupid shit that happened throughout most of splatoon 3s lifespan since SUPPOSEDLY the games only gonna be getting updates for like, what, 2 more seasons? And its like wow we waited all this time and went through so much shit for a story thats hardly even a story. Once you unlock everything its just. Prlz grinding for gear to get.

It was fun! It was enjoyable! But it sucked and it wasnt worth all of that. Unfortunately i care a lot about splatoons lore and they didnt really go anywhere with what little lore they did have. They also contradicted themselves multiple times for a net zero lore gain anyway. This is about the whole memories """subplot""", if you can even call it that. It really was just "pearl and marina and also this other random irrelevant character talk to each other while you stand there and stare at them from the background" simulator and its like. Thats it? Thats the story? Thats what i waited through all the bullshit for? And then they make you think that there is more, actually, because they keep leading up to something, and then nothing happens. Like okay what was that for.

The gameplay was quick and easy because thats just my skill level. I didnt find it difficult. If youre good at salmon run then chances are youre good at side order. Theres nothing else to be done about that. Im not gonna play bad on purpose for a chance at a challenge. That isnt fun. I just wish the game was rewarding and to me the lore is the reward but... when you think about it literally at all nothing that marina did all this for shows any proof of having worked. She still has to hack her own vr world to do anything with it. Order, now smollusk, is still very much in control. They dont show you anything memory-related actually changing or being affected. They just say it happened and act like thats all there should be to it. And if they were gonna focus on memories, why did they make this whole thing about how bystanders can accidentally be sucked in and then do literally nothing with that? Why not show an actual change in the actual inkopolis square? Why murch of all characters to get a pallet. Why not involve iso padre, whos in inkopolis square now (im very happy about that), who had also lost his memories and was an established character that we could actually interact with in the previous game? It just doesnt add up. Like sorry that i expected good storytelling, its just this is the same people who made octo expansion and they keep trying to one-up octo expansion and they keep falling flat on their face because they keep thinking the gameplay is what made octo expansion so good when it was also the plot and the lore and the worldbuilding that added so much to it so i thought "this time for sure" especially with everything they showed us in the first trailer.

Again, i know it was all concept art, but surely it wouldnt be fair to show off so much only for the final product to be almost nothing like it? Surely if they werent set on the story then they wouldve waited longer to be realeasing trailers and announcing dlc in the first place? Surely it makes sense to expect what was shown. I dont get why theres some people who think everyone had too high expectations. Like its literally just a matter of if you think about any of it literally at all and actually care about it any way more than barebones surface level stuff literally at all then its natural to expect more.

#blah blah blah plot sucks and gameplay is good but my priority is plot so overall it sucks #splatoon 3 #weaponblog #side order

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imperceivablesexygender · 6 months ago

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god im exhausted

stupid hopeless yearning underneath so i don't inflict lengthy ramblings scroll of doom on the 1 person who follows this blog. hi anna you don't have to read this i'm just being dumb about my best friend and wanted to put my thoughts down

so for context. i have one (1) very short previous romantic experience. and by very short i mean half a summer, before freshman year. i have only told my 3 family members (where secrets go to die) and i don't know if she told anyone else - this thing barely even happened. we cuddled at night for a couple of months. but it's the only time i've been remotely near a romantic relationship with someone, so it counts. to Me. i don't know if it counts to Her. but i know she remembers.

this girl is my best friend. we've known each other since kindergarten. i was a dumb 8th grader who couldn't understand attraction if it hit me between the eyes. she'd had a few boyfriends - she was a bit more explicit about what she wanted. but only barely - we never talked about how we cuddled at nights, we never talked about the one time she tried to kiss me in the dark and i squeaked in surprise and didn't know how to react and she never tried it again.

she's moved on. i swear she has. she's dated a girl and our other best friend and at least three other men in the six years since our absolute nonrelationship. had a phase immediately after getting away from our abusive ex best friend where she went on a ton of blind hookups. she's Miles ahead of me in the sexual experience department.

i am So Fucking Horny for her it's not even fair.

i don't Know if i'm In Love or if she's simply familiar and safe enough for me to want to explore my own sexuality with her. i've had three (3) dreams starring her in the past few months.

i tried to ask if she'd be down. we were on shrooms together once, and complaining about romantic prospects, and she made a "low-hanging fruit" metaphor - that maybe a person should stop looking up into trees to pick fruit, and instead look around to see who else might be trying to do the same thing. she looked at me with the biggest earnest doe eyes when she said it and at the moment i would have sworn she was talking about herself, but i wimped out at the time and asked the next morning. she said she wasn't. i dropped it - if she's not interested i don't want to push anything and risk losing her again. i'd rather have her as a friend than not at all, no contest

now she's got a boyfriend. the guy seems great, genuinely! he likes her a lot, and she seems happy, and i really do think he seems chill.

a little more backstory - there was this call-and-response bit we used to do, where she called and i responded, and as part of the bit i would be deliberately obtuse and not finish it, for reasons unknown to me then and unknown to me now. once we started semi flirting and cuddling at night, i finally completed the response. this was a bit that went on throughout that summer, that did not continue after that summer when we ended things, and that has been invoked *maybe* once since, when we were very high.

today, apropos of seemingly nothing, she started the call.

and being a hopeless fool, i finished it.

i couldn't have interpreted the look on her face if you paid me. i tried to play it off like it was nostalgic to me or something, and she didn't say anything else about it, but.

i've thought i've been reading into her actions too much for forever now. i keep telling myself, dude cut it out, you're seeing patterns that aren't there, she's over you, you just need to put yourself out there and forget about it. (easier said than done - it's not that i don't want to try, but that how the fuck am i supposed to "put myself out there" as a 20yo with no experience. it's diving into the deep end without knowing how to swim. also i can't drive myself to dates, and have an aversion to dating apps.)

except there has never ever been any connotation to that stupid call and response between us other than a romantic one. we BOTH know that. she Has to know that. why the FUCK did she do it today.

im gonna ask. i Have to ask. it's just fucking exhausting winding myself up about it. i'm terrified she won't want to stay my friend if she finds out i still have feelings. even though i'll be so stupid normal and fine about it if she says she doesn't feel the same way. she'll never hear about it from me again. because i care about her and our friendship and i'd rather ignore my own yearning than lose her completely.

#stupid stupid stupid #she HAS A BOYFRIEND #i need to cut this out i don't want to lose her

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festeringfae · 2 years ago

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*skids across the floor after seeing this post on my computer with a broken keyboard & RUNNING to mobile so I can type* hi hello is it finally time to talk about how underserved by the narrative the sisters Lynesse Hightower and Averie Hightower Tyrell are, relative to how fucking cool they are in what little description we have of them???

Is it time talk about how Alerie's reaction to Joffrey's death was to IMMEDIATELY attribute it to choking rather than express concern her daughter may have been poisoned, while still subtly reinforcing the idea that there's no way Margaery was involved? "He choked, sweetling. He choked on the pie. It was naught to do with you. He choked. We all saw"?" Are we gonna finally acknowledge that "we all saw" is absoLUTELY an attempt to get the crowd to second guess their own short term memories before long term ones can form? Can we talk about how OLENNA, a woman nicknamed the QUEEN OF THORNS due to how critical she is of people-- particularly, how critical she is of their intelligence-- has never actually found anything to critique about Alerie? The best she can do-- the best OLENNA TYRELL can do-- to find fault with her is "Don't call me Mother. If I'd given birth to you, I'm sure I'd remember it." That's just making a statement of fact in a rude way. It's a lower degree burn than Olenna's dunk on "The Rains of Castamere", for God's sake. It seems, dare I say, almost perfunctory? Performative, even?

And then there's Alerie's sister, Lynesse Hightower. Can we FINALLY ACKNOWLEDGE that there is NOTHING, nada, zilch that indicates that Lynesse Hightower even KNEW about Jorah's batshit, evil slavery scheme, much less that she consented to it? Can we talk about how this gross old widower who was TWICE THE AGE of the little girl went to her the LITERAL DAY THEY MET and PUBLICLY PROPOSED, so that if she turned him down, it would be a PUBLIC SCANDAL? That when Lynesse was, overnight, taken from her family AND her hometown AND the standard of living she was used to, she was abandoned by the creep who took her for long stretches, and mocked by those remained for having pre-pubescent breasts? Can we talk about how Lynesse Hightower was called fussy & stuck up for simply fitting into the gender ideals forced upon women of their station in literally every single other place in their country besides this one island? About how eventually Lynesse is denied even her HOMELAND, because when she had the audacity to complain about missing her previous standard of living, and refusing to sell her jewels-- HER OWN SHIT, TO PROVIDE WHAT A HUSBAND BY THEIR CUSTOM IS SUPPOSED TO PROVIDE-- her dipshit husband decided that obviously the solution was treating human beings like chattel, instead of, like, letting her visit her parents or asking for a loan from THEM?

Most of all can we talk about how, holy shit, despite this Valyria-sized disaster of a situation, and the completely patriarchal society she was raised in, once Lynesse finds some place she kinda fucking likes--someplace WARM, another PORT, like HOME-- and her husband says she has to leave with him yet again, Lady Lynesse "Fuck Your Mormont" Hightower tells the loser "you know what? No. You can't fucking make me." And he can't! He fucking can't! And then she's like, "fuck no, you dipshit, im not gonna suddenly start ASKING FOR LESS after you have FUCKED ME OVER MORE"

AND THEN, once her refusing to compromise her perfectly reasonable standards gets him temporarily GONE, she's like: "you know fucking what? my reputation is already so fucking ruined, i should just do whatEVER the fuck i want now, or is more convenient for me. who the FUCK is gonna shame me out of it? FUCK shame, I'm going to find a rich, already-married-man who can clearly support MULTIPLE rich bitches," and she DOES, & she runs him, his wife, AND his concubines. And NOW, after her whole homeland decided she was dispensable, guess whose the only Westerosi bitch with a fleet big enough to take on those Krakens the Bears who bullied her hate so much? Which "whore of a sister" from the Reach is the one everyone is begging help from? Can we TALK ABOUT IT?

it’s time to admit the hightowers are objectively cool. Hightower just casually is older than the wall, old valyria, has eldritch horrors beyond belief in its basement, and Malora Hightower is practising arcane magics unknown to most of the world on the top floor like…

#*dusts off my somewhat cringe tag*#fae of thrones #sorry if this was too long OP

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delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 23: PRETTY BOY

emotions run wild when everyone is drunk and hardly coherent. quackity is always loud, but tonight is a full on assault on the senses (the ears, in particular). bretman simps for corpse too much for your liking. rae is happy for once. there’s a confession of love somewhere in there. sister james makes a very good impostor, but that’s old news, the real question is who gave you a knife? a new persona emerges that leaves the roaches quivering in their boots.

─── corpse husband x reader, a lil bit of everyone x reader (because she’s a queen) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: a lil over 7k.

author’s note: it’s the way i can’t follow a fucking calendar for me. sorry guys, i swear to god i thought i had one more day before thursday . the idiot award goes to me and i accept it with pride. anyway, i was excited to write this for a while! quackity is in mexico, that’s why he drinks, too. my fic, my rules, he’s too funny not to include. im also working on an extra w dream and mr quack so look forward to that, too! hopefully u like this part ily xx and as always lmk wat u think!!

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The outfit for today was picked with care and consideration. Hot, as always- you had forgotten your roots, your hoodie and sweats lay hidden in the bottom of your drawer never to be worn on stream again. You’ve changed. Clout really does that to people. Some viewers, naturally, find your hotness near insulting: how dare you rub your beauty in their faces, and so unabashedly, too?! If only you had a twinge of self-awareness, perhaps you would tone it down. But you don’t, and whether that’s by choice or not is the mystery the whole internet tries to solve (ARMY has been working diligently, and you admire their effort, though in the end their tireless labor brings no tangible results).

You went from hot to hotter. In all truth, the fires eating away at California can be blamed on you. You carry this burden in stride, in your platform overpriced shoes some girl scammed you on Depop with, in your fishnets, in your skirt, in your corset, in your rings and necklaces and chains. You woke up today and chose violence. Decided your existence will be a plague to the rest of the populace, and meant it (that, maybe, you took inspiration from a certain faceless Youtuber that so happens to be your boyfriend or whatever). You feel powerful. Like you could step on the world and the world would let you. You decide that it’s the way it should always be.

The smile on your lips informs of nothing good to your quaint, small audience of 40k. You change the lighting in your room from the soft cherry blossom pink to menacing violet. As fitting for a villain.

Perhaps California’s hellish sun has finally purged you of your bubbly, docile nature (arguably, you had never possessed it to begin with); perhaps it’s the forth mimosa you’re mixing as people slowly trickle into the lobby. Who knows?! Not you, definitely. What do all of those boring dead white European philosophers say? Embrace the unknown? Cheers, you’ll drink to that.

In stark contrast to your appearance, your room is a fucking mess. A war-zone of epic anime scale. Everything is scattered, well, everywhere. A perfect representation on what’s going on in your mind, always. You don’t like how people focus on your surroundings-- you’re the main attraction, hello? Are you not enough to sustain them? Must they beg for more?! Totally ungrateful. You shake your head in disappointment, as if a mother scolding her children.

noooooo! mom pls forgive me i will never ask abt anything ever again T_T

yall looking at the room? lol couldnt be me

feels like im five and my mum just told me i cant eat a pretty rock i found on the pavement:(

You can’t contain your sly grin. Eyes twinkle with a purplish hue, appearing all the more menacing. You tricked them once again, oh how absolutely evil of you. In your blind delight you accidentally spill champagne on your lap.

“-Oop, fuck.” You snort.

why does she sound like goofy

The scandalous drunk Among Us stream is about to start. You had been eerily silent through the greetings, and those that chose to approach you were met with a cold shoulder and minimal replies. All on purpose, of course. You wish to plant a seed of unease within them, and so far, it’s working. There are questions unanswered, jokes unsaid, Quackity unteased. It breaks your heart, but it must be done. You look into the camera, all vulnerable and devout, as if to say: I’m doing this for you, all for you.

pack it up yandere simulator

idk whats going on but i think im into it?

villain arc villain arc villain aRC VILLAIN ARC

“Hey, guys,” Corpse’s voices rings in your headphones, and not a blink later his astronaut appears in the lobby in a cloud of smoke, “Hi, Y/n.”

More sharp, excited hellos follow after. You merely hum, though give no further reply. As Corpse strays to your side, Charlie steps in in front of him, “BDA access only. You have a permit, bitch?”

“Y/n is being quiet-she’s being quiet, guys!” Quackity helpfully informs, as if the rest failed to notice your cryptic silence, “Don’t be sad Corpse, man, Corpse don’t be-she didn’t say shit to me either.”

“Y/n has decided to not waste her breath on the SDS.” Charlie voices, “And you know what? I actually agree with her for once.”

“SD-what now?” Dream questions.

“The Small Dick Society.” Charlie explains, noting Dream’s whine of protest, “Oh no, don’t give me that shit, weren’t you bitching about not being invited and not belonging to exclusive clubs? Congratulations, you’re finally part of one.”

“Wait!” Quackity interjects, “Am I part of it too?”

“Guess, Sherlock.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Corpse says. You nod to your audience, like he just spoke the God honest truth, and follow in his example. Your tentative sip unexpectedly turns into a greedy gulp, but you’re not complaining. The only slightly coherent thought that rings in your mind is drink tasty.

“Ignore them,” Rae chimes, “Y/n’s probably plotting something and using Charlie as a cover up.”

“I’d never.” The words slip past your lips before you can stop them.

“Well you sure are very quick to deny it.” You can hear her smirking, can hear the proud lilt in her voice, like she caught onto your silly little scheme, like she has you all figured out. Your eyes narrow dangerously. The night behind your window pools dark, with far away city lights glimmering before they, too, seem to dim.

Your roommate is back on your shitlist. How her name was missed among the rest.

“I’m defending my honor.” You yelp, the playfulness back in your voice along with your sunny smile, “I can’t have my wifey slandering me online. At least do it in private, geez.”

If Rae’s such a good detective, you’ll give her a good chase. Perhaps you’ve been laying it on too thick. Made her too suspicious. She can’t out you yet--not when your plans are so grand, so fun. It would be a waste.

“Why weren’t you saying anything then?” Quackity questions.

“Do I need a reason not wanting to talk to you?” You shoot back. Your friends laugh and he tries to shriek something past their cackle. You lean back into your chair, the tension from Rae’s confrontation finally easing. You wink at the camera and bring a finger to your lips. The roaches swear to secrecy, elated by your wickedness. As appropriate, they spam devil emojis and various renditions of evil hohohos and hehehes. The apple truly does not fall far from the tree. You had raised them well. You raise your glass in solidarity. A few donations fall into your pocket, easily summed up as: make them suffer.

Muting the discord call, you give a single response, “Oh, I intend to.”

i hope this doesn’t awaken something in me

^already too late for me bro

As caught up in wreaking havoc among your viewers as you are, you miss Sykkuno’s entrance, though from what you can tell, Charlie gave a stern warning to back the fuck off to him, too. He’s playing into your plan so beautifully. Truly, you couldn’t do this without him. Back to stalking the chat you go.

Your eyes flicker to the game upon Bretman’s signature drawl and “Hi, daddy.”. You have no time to get offended at Corpse’s sweet “Hi, honey” back, because the next person to join the discord call and the lobby leaves you speechless. You knew, of course, you had been informed of the line-up, but still, you had never expected yourself to be so close to Jomes Chorles himself. You make a weird gesture with your hands, half wave half excited wiggle, as if you’re telling the audience to calm down, when, in fact, it is you that needs calming.

He goes saying his hello’s like doing a public service, name by name, before, lastly, uttering, “Hi, Miss Y/n. Loooove the vids.”

He’s a roach in disguise, who could’ve known?! Your audience is so diverse and unexpected, gosh, you’d shed a tear if the mascara wasn’t so expensive.

“Hi!” You reply with a grin, and it’s genuine this time, a glimmer of your old self, “Hi, I love your videos, too. It’s like, really cool to finally meet you.”

“Oh my God, you too!” Is his enthusiastic reply, “Okay, the energy in the studio today? Love it.”

“Is this all of us?” Quackity asks.

“Sadly.” James says with a note of disappointment.

“HEY!”

“Okay, guys!” Ash chimes, “Let’s do this! Proximity Among Us, round one, go go go!”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Luck does not shine upon you during the first round- you are stuck as Crew Mate, your life cut short by Bretman who had the audacity to bite your head off. You’re positive Ke$ha wrote her hit single Cannibal about him, and if she didn’t, she definitely had a That’s So Raven moment and predicted it. It’s also insanely suspicious as after you are eliminated he sticks real close to Corpse, feigning innocence (and this is a controversial opinion you do not endorse) better than even you. It wounds your pride, having been picked off so casually, so quickly, and now stuck a ghost you roam the halls of the dying spaceship, lost, confused, heartbroken.

Charlie runs past you, not once even glancing in your direction. “Brother...” You mutter sadly, “Do you not see me here? Do you not feel... the loss of your twin’s heartbeat...?" Damn, these mimosas really are making you emotional. You sniffle and take a sip to calm the storm within you. No rage, just sadness. You are still processing your own tragic demise.

Suddenly, a meeting is called. There’s a horrible red X on your astronaut. You are the only one dead so far, and of course the rest won’t vote out the fucker. How bitterly you sit! With your arms crossed over your chest and your glare sharp enough to cut through glass. Fuck the sad shit, now you’re just angry. At the very least, the second Impostor could’ve given you some company!

“I knew something felt off.” Charlie is first to speak.

“Who the fuck killed Y/n?” Corpse questions, and his voice ignites a whole discussion that lasts much too short. The others skip, having no suspect yet. It’s much too soon to start pointing fingers, but you still feel like they should have at least tried. Pouting, you fix yourself another drink.

“Stop drinking!?” You gasp, exasperated at your chats demands, “I’m dead! What else should I do, the tasks?! Nah, fuck that. I’m done. I’m out. Charlie better employ his fucking detective skills because if the Impostors win, I will literally quit the game--yes I will, no I’m not bullshitting, fucking watch me.”

Thankfully, Bretman was caught venting, and you didn’t have to end the stream prematurely. The second Impostor, your roommate (oh, the betrayal, Rae, how could you?!) was voted out due to Corpse’s suspicion. Victory to the Crew Mates! The game restarts and you find yourself back in the lobby.

“Miss Y/n,” Bretman says, “I am sooo sorry for killing you first, baby. It was just too easy. I couldn’t pass it up.”

Giggling, Quackity chimes, “Sister slaughtered.”

“Oh my God,” James groans, “shut up!”

“Yeah, Y/n.” Charlie speaks, and there’s an accusatory note in his calm voice, “Why the fuck did you allow yourself to be eliminated first? Real noob shit, I expected more of you.”

“HUH?!” You frown, “What’s with the victim blaming?! I literally was doing my task and Bretman snuck up on me. It’s not like I had a weapon to defend myself!”

“You have been avenged,” Corpse states, “and that’s all that matters.”

“Thank you, Corpse!” You say, “At least someone cares.”

“Hey, I helped, too!” Dream pipes up.

“No, you didn’t.” Corpse shoots him down, “I was the only one.”

“You were not--”

“Literally was. Isn’t that right, Sykkuno?”

“Uhhhh-” Sykkuno trails off, “Well, we-we all helped!” You can hear his shy smile, and you just know he’s bobbing his head up and down at this exact moment, “We all helped. Team work!”

“Team work!” The rest echo, save for yourself, Corpse, Charlie, and the two Impostors. Silence speaks more than a thousand words or whatever. You pray to any higher power willing to listen to finally assign you the role of the villain, the one you were born to do.

Sadly, higher powers must have either shitty customer service or are in need of hearing aids, and you almost scream in frustration when your astronaut appears along with the others, the bold CREW MATE title chipping away at your master plan.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“Hey, Y/n, hey! Hey, Y/n!” Rae finds you in Cafeteria, where you, metaphorically, are eating your feelings. Not that she needs to know, of course. She sounds chipper, a bit ditsy, and that must mean she’s sufficiently tipsy. You store that information for later, and forget about it as soon as you notice Dream and Sykkuno, like her very own personal bodyguards, trailing after her, “Wanna play a game?!”

“Is this Saw?” You inquire, somewhat lazy. You’d be lying if you said the alcohol wasn’t affecting you, it’s just instead of making you bubbly, it makes you mellow. This was supposed to be fun, you were supposed to terrorize everyone and laugh as they perished by your hand, yet here you are, wallowing in self-pity. The roaches start worrying. The donation jingle chimes.

BEATINGS & SLUTATIONS yns_fishnets donated 5$ mom just wait it out & dont worry youll get your vengeance soon lead them on!!!!

Your fishnets have a point!

“Saw?--No, no, haa, no it’s a drinking game.” Dream sounds like he has had one too many rounds of this mysterious game, and naturally, you are intrigued.

“Where we drink!” Sykkuno clarifies. Right, well that explains everything! If you had any questions, you surely have none now.

“Okay, so, name a category, and you have to, like, say a word associated with it...Or something along those lines.” You hadn’t even agreed and Rae is explaining the rules already. She knows you too well. It’s both a blessing and a curse, “Can be anything! Okay, Y/n, Y/n, Y/n start!”

“Uhh--” If only your brain computed as fast as she spoke! “Song lyrics! Wait--who drinks?”

“You fail, you drink!” She hurries, “Choke me like you hate me but you love meeeeee. Syk, go, go go!”

“Uhm, ah, I don’t wanna feel like this, uh, fuck?” He laughs--it’s a raspy, embarrassed little sound, “I don’t...wanna look like this? Dream, now you!”

“Wait, we’re singing Corpse’s songs?”

“Any song!” You urge him quickly, “Hurry! Or drink!”

“She say I kill her cat like I'm Luka Magnotta--”

“Hey! That’s cheating! You can’t use my song!” Rae protest.

“That wasn’t in the rules!” He counters.

“Y/n! Time’s running out!” Sykkuno exclaims.

“Oh, uh, will-will the real Slim Shady please stand up!”

NOT EMINEM WHAT THE FUCK

MOOOM WHT THE HELL THIS ISNT 2008 T_T

“Ra-Ra-Rasputin, Russia’s greatest love machine--”

“All...All the other kids with the pumped up kicks better, uhh, run better run, faster...-faster than my gun?”

“Uhh, shit--fucking hell.” Dream laughs, and Rae practically screams at him to keep going, “Alright! Okay! I’m singing--uh, you’re so golden, na na na na?”

“I tell you what a woman loves most,” You chime gleefully, “it’s a man who can slap but can also stroke.”

finally, the mother mother representation we’ve all been waiting for

i aint exactly gay but i aint exactly not gay >:)

the bis won

“I steal a few breeeeaaaths from the woooorld for a minute--”

“Mitski?!” You question, eyes bulging, “Baby, who hurt you?”

Even if you can’t see her, you know she’s waving her arms around and shaking her head, “Not the point! Sykkuno!”

“Uh, I-I, uhm, I don’t--”

“Drinnnnk!” You all chorus.

“It was a good concert,” You say, “Syk, I’ll drink with you.”

“Thank you, Y/n. That’s very kind of you.” He says softly, with a smile lining his lips. You grin.

“Oh, fine. Everyone, bottoms up!” Rae decides, and no one protest. A moment of silence passes, then, “Well, GG, GG, let’s do some tasks?”

Your enthusiastic Ariana Grande-esque “yuh” is cut short by the second meeting of game two being called. The first one to go had been Ash, voted out during a bathroom break as a joke, and you still feel a bit bad about that. Now, you notice Charlie has been eliminated. A sense of righteousness fills you--while you mourn for your brother from another mother and father and family tree, you feel like this is divine punishment for slandering you before the start of this round. Karma. Nothing much is discussed, and the meeting ends shortly with everyone skipping.

You spend a good ten minutes wandering around with Dream, who’s mission appears to be convincing you to join his Minecraft server, and really, there was no need for him to try so hard. You failed to provide him with a concrete answer only because it would've been to humiliating to admit that you agreed instantly upon hearing the word Minecraft.

That’s when things get fucking weird. Another meeting is called whilst you’re in the middle of fixing lights, and once the board with the members appears you audibly gasp. There had been 8 living, breathing astronauts rushing around the map, and now only 4 remain. You, Corpse, James, and Alex.

“What the fuck--what the fuck?!” You screech alarmed, noting Dream being among the perished crew, “I was just with Dream fixing the lights, I was just with him, what the fuck--”

“Okay, no one panic.” James says, “Let’s figure this out. Okay? Okay. Who else is close to Electrical?”

“I’m at Nav.” Quackity says.

“I’m at Cafeteria, but Y/n--” Corpse starts, “kinda weird that Dream died when you were with him?”

“I didn’t fucking kill him, I swear to God, Corpse, why are you accusing me?”

“Don’t be so defensive.” He says smoothly, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. We all have a reason to be sus, no? Considering you were right with him.”

“...It is suspicious.” James agrees, and a part of you dies inside. You understand their hesitance to trust you, but it doesn’t make it any less frustrating!

“Guys, I didn’t kill him, I swear. He invited me to play Minecraft, I wouldn’t do that to him, not after that!”

Corpse merely hums, and it brings no comfort what’s so ever. The situation is spiraling, and not in your favor. Trying to salvage your chances at freedom, you try again, “Wh-James, James, you called the meeting, right?”

“Yeah, I found Rae’s body near Medical.”

“So I couldn’t have killed her and Dream at the same time!” You latch onto that piece of information, hoping it will save you.

“You could’ve vented.” Corpse points out, “Plus, there’s no telling how old the body is.”

“Killing five fucking people? It’s the work of one person, or else the game would have already ended. As it stands, I am no way sober enough to think all of this out.”

A brief silence hangs in the air; your lungs constrict from tension, from spilling words so hotly. You grasp your glass, as if for emphasis, and take a shy sip. It taste sweet, a bit too sweet for your liking. Must be your nerves. You drink again to wash the taste out of your mouth, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work. You whine a little, stomping your feet like a child about to throw a temper tantrum.

“...I believe her.” Quackity says. You breathe out a sigh of relief.

“Alex, thank youuuuuu!” You gush, batting your lashes as if he could somehow see you and that would somehow portray your innocence, “I knew I liked you for a reason!”

He mutes his mic, his spill of words lost to your ears, but chat helpfully informs that he’s screaming because you don’t hate him.

y/n out here collecting men like pokemon cards

Now all that’s left is to convince the others. You start with the one you know will work, “Corpse,” You address him in your sweetest voice.

“Y/n,” James warns, “don’t you dare--”

“Baby, I didn’t kill anyone, I’m crew mate, you gotta believe me.”

“She's innocent.” Corpse declare, thoroughly convinced.

“Oh my fucking God, you fucking simp!” James laughs, “She’s obviously manipulating you!”

“No, no, she isn’t. She’s innocent, I agree with Quackity. Now, it’s either you or him.”

“Could be you for all we know!” Alex accuses.

“Guys, time’s running out.” You mutter fretfully, noting the seconds tick by from white to red.

“I’m voting Alex.” Corpse says.

“What?! Fucking traitor! Fine, I’m voting for you.” Alex hisses.

“Ugh, hate agreeing with Quackity, but I’m also voting Corpse. Sorry, hon, nothing personal.” James says. The VOTED icons pop up beside their characters and you panic, pressing your mouse idly but it’s too late, there wasn’t enough time, and you cry as Corpse is thrown into lava. The chat spams F, and it feels like salt on a fresh wound.

In a second you’re back in Cafeteria, shell-shocked and trembling, and Quackity cusses because the Impostor is still among you. His frustration doesn’t last long as you watch in horror as Jams Chortles, beauty guru supreme, murders the only other crew mate in cold blood and all you can do is gape and let his cheerful laughter fill your ears. The screen bleeds red, informing of Impostor victory, the second one being Ash. Looks like you voted her off for the right reason, but little difference did it make.

“Corpse!” You yell past the cacophony of voices, all in varying forms of excitement or anger, beelining for his in-game figure, “Corpse, I’m so sorry, I panicked, I tried pressing the button but I wasn’t quick enough--”

“It’s alright, baby. Don’t worry about it.” He’s so calming, so gentle, you might burst into tears again. What did you do to deserve him? You wish he was with you so you could smother him in a hug. Alas, all you can do now is say “I kith you, mwah!” and rush to the other side of the lobby, as if to hide from such a bold display of affection, even if it was a joke (it wasn’t).

yall say corpse simps for y/n but the reality is y/n simps for corpse harder

queen stop its embarrassing

bhaddies can simp!! i wouldnt but its her choice <3

More deliberations, commentary, and short breaks. Once everyone has returned, the countdown starts. You’re still reeling from the chaos of emotions, the five stages of grief you experienced in 1 second upon Corpse’s unjust demise, that it takes you a moment, a single heartbeat to realize what you’re seeing on screen.

The letters IMPOSTOR hang above your astronaut, with Dream standing just behind you as your newly appointed partner in crime. And suddenly, all the sadness and the tenderness and sympathy vanish with a curt exhale. You slowly turn your head to the chat, muting the Discord call, your soft chuckle of disbelief turning into a full blown laugh.

it’s happening!!!!

omg omg omg omg

VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC VILLAIN ARC

You slap your palm over your lips, trying to contain your wicked smile, to tone down your broken giggles, “N-No, I can’t laugh yet,” shaking your head softly, you look into the camera, “they’re all going to die.”

pack it up light yagami

this has awoken something in me.

^ same

The crew mates go their own ways, rushing to do their tasks like the diligent little workers they are. How adorable. Their grim fate is still miles away from them. The shit you’ll pull will be for the history books. Much like your outfit, which you picked keeping in mind your newfound thirst for blood, you had devised your plan of action with care and consideration. You had been mulling it over all day, drawing on paper like the absolute madwoman you are; hell, you even made sticky notes on who to go for first and what to say. Sure, being moderately drunk hinders your memory slightly (an understatement of the century), but you got a feel for what you’re going to do. It’s nothing short of evil.

Dream and you don’t exchange words, you merely nod at him-- which he, of course, can’t see-- but your criminal bond enables telepathic communication. You can hear his thoughts, ones that strangely sound like drink drink, drink drink. And really, who are you to refuse such an enticing offer?! As he fucks off to stalk his victims, or play pretend, you take a sip. The cocktail is still sweet, but this time it’s not the icky sweet you had tasted prior. You glance at your sticky notes, ones the roaches can’t see, and nearly spill your drink for the second time today as you jerk.

“Fuck!” You exclaim, shoving your headphones off and spinning in your chair. You hastily stand up, wobble -- the world is pleasantly funny right about now -- and giggle. Stepping past the mountains of abandoned clothes and pillows and blankets and anime plushies, you maneuver your way to your bedside table and yank it open, nearly taking out the whole drawer with you. In the mess of old diaries and bad drawings, pencils, jewelry, and stickers, you fish out something you should not be wielding in your inebriated state.

It’s a knife.

In midst of teenage angst you had ordered it off of Amazon with your mom’s credit card, all the while whining that it’s not a phase, mom, and it’s what all of my cool kid friends with fried hair have, and don’t you want me to fit in, don’t you want your daughter to be happy?! You think it’s about that time, the time of too much uneven eyeliner and black eye shadow, that she took to calling you little raccoon. Trash rabbit was your personal favorite, but she used it sparingly. When you presented your Macy’s outfit, holding up a fucking butterfly knife, to your dad, asking if it was a look, he glanced up from some boring business magazine all boring business dads read and said, with a bright smile might you add, “It’s a something!”.

Oh, how it gleams in the lilac light. You used to do tricks with it, back in eight grade maybe, and--what the fuck? Why did you parents allow you to buy it in the first place? Well, because you’re the only child, the only one important, of course they got it for you and clapped enthusiastically at your performances, because why wouldn’t they? The whining they’d face otherwise would’ve been harder to endure than a whole dance number to Panic! At The Disco’s greatest hits. Broadway looked so fucking shabby in comparison. Your mom said so, so it must be true.

Stumbling back to your extremely confused viewers, you take your seat, feeling a bit more grounded now that you’re not standing on your platform shoes anymore. Putting on your headphones, you grin at the chat that starts swimming, and not from too much drinking either. You do a quick flick of your wrist, one that thankfully doesn’t end in injury, and the sharp tip of the exposed knife points upwards, glimmering. It’s a rainbow colored one, because one, it’s pretty, and two, you weren’t hardcore enough for the jet-black or straight up military ones the other emo kids had. Cute and dangerous, just like you.

So you just sit there, holding it up, looking somewhat sly as the roaches capture this momentous moment with screen-caps. Someone definitely clipped you trudging past the obstacle course to obtain a weapon of mass destruction. You must be already trending on Twitter, though you can’t exactly log on and confirm your suspicions. You just feel like you might be, like you should be, because your audience wouldn’t let this slide. Thankfully, your friends don’t have time to check social media, or you’d be outed in an instant.

“Y/n?” Your roommates voice booms from your headphones, and you perk up with a stupid realization that you completely forgot about Among Us. Stuck at the start, at the lobby where Dream had left you, you see her astronaut waddling to you, “What are you doing here? Wait--Have you not moved from the beginning?” She can barely finish the sentence without giggling.

You grin, “I was looking for something.”

Your voice is soft, too calm for your usual frantic spill. You gently set the knife down, hand coming to rest on your mouse, fingers idly, slowly, bouncing on the buttons.

“...What were you looking for?” She’s none the wiser, the numerous drinks consumed tonight numbing her sharp mind. She would have noticed. Your eerie composure would’ve given it away in a heartbeat, or at least hinted at something being objectively wrong. But she sounds curious. Poor girl, hasn’t she heard? Curiosity killed the cat.

“A knife.”

“A knife?!” There’s something about her tone that implies a mental clicking, the puzzle pieces falling together, “You have a knife?!”

“Yes.”

“No!”

You think it would only be appropriate that the random sequence of killing animations renders the backstabbing one. You grin, biting your lower lip with a quiet snicker.

i love women

if evil bad...why seggy?

You take your time leaving her there -- in true serial-killer-to-be fashion, you stick around for a bit longer, admiring your handiwork, or more like the chat singing your praises. You joined today with the intent of making an interesting stream. You have no doubt in your mind that now it will be legendary.

You move down the hallway, and you let your imagination wander: you can almost feel the stuffy air of your helmet, can almost hear your loud footsteps echoing in all this hush, can almost see your reflection in the spotless tile floor. It’s not long before your second victim makes an appearance, running circles in Cafeteria. You hear his voice first before you see him, recognizing Alex by his unhinged screech of “Let’s go, let’s go, let’s goooo!”

“And what’s got you so excited?” How cool and collected you are, gosh, you barely contain the quiver of excitement that threatens to slip out.

“Y/n!” He exclaims, rushing to your side like a lost puppy--he’s really making this easy for you, he’s not even trying, “You just missed--Oh my fucking God, you just missed James, he-he called me tall, he called me fucking tall! Let’s go, let’s gooooo!”

“Well, you are tall, aren’t you?” You chime sweetly, almost as sweet as the drink that lingers on the tip of your tongue, ��Real 6′3 energy, no?”

“Yes, yes, exactly! You get it, you fucking get it--” Once again, his mic goes mute, and you glance at the chat for help.

hard to transcribe what hes saying but hes taking shots and yelling that he loves you good job mom

hey, queen! girl, you have done it again, constantly raising the bar for us all and doing it flawlessly

mom plz dont kill alex hes too cute hes all uwu rn

Oh, how you’re about to break his poor little heart. If you had any good left in you, you’d spare him. You don’t, and you’re not taking requests at the moment, so all you do is smile at your chat and they know. They just do. Hive-mind shit, you’re all two-faced little fuckers.

You giggle, and it sounds a tad fake, “You’re so weird, Alex,” You start, and he’s back in the call, a sound of confusion echoing in your ears, “but I get it, you know. You’re weird. You’re a weirdo. You don’t fit it, and you don’t want to fit in. I mean, really, has anyone even seen you without your stupid hat?”

“...Do--” He sputters, bellowing a laugh, “Do you have that whole fucking monologue memorized?!”

“Is it because you’re bald?”

“I’m not fucking bald!” His giddiness is quickly replaced by anger.

You hum, pretend to think, lastly barking a “Liar.” before you kill him. His scream is cut off, leaving only deafening silence at it’s wake. Unlike with Rae, you don’t stick around. You didn’t appreciate how little he enjoyed your recital.

You run into James near Navigation, most likely on his way to Cafeteria. He ends his song mid-note, and you breathe a sigh of relief, “Finally! Someone! I’ve been looking all over, where the hell is everyone?” You question, blocking his way, lest he accidentally stumbles onto the crime scene and easily pins it on you. You’re not done yet.

“Honestly? No clue. I’m searching for them myself, like, everyone’s scattered. I hope no one died.”

You smile. You tried not to, but you can’t contain it, “Me, too.” You echo the sentiment, urging him to join you, and he does. Too trusting. Everyone in this game is too fucking trusting. You lead him back to Nav, feigning that you have a task here. As you pretend to move the spaceship, you can’t help but ask, “Hey, James?”

“Yeah?”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?”

A beat of silence passes, “Oh no, fuck that, I don’t like this at all.” He states, about to spin on his heel and bolt like he should do, but you’re quicker-- killer instincts and all-- and he’s dead before he makes it out the doorway.

“See, after your No More Lies video, I figured you’d only tell the truth.” Yes, this is the part of the anime where the villain monologues, only the hero in this case is an astronaut cut in half, and not exactly alive to listen to you. You hope James’ ghost sticks around, “Case in point, why the fuck did you tell Quackity he’s tall?” You eye the chat, which’s mostly spamming W and comparing you to Ryo from Devilman Crybaby. “Such a shame...” You murmur, pressing the REPORT button.

“What?! How are so many people dead?!” Ash gasps, her kind voice tinted with fear and confusion. Your three kills, like military stars on an uniform of a distinguished officer, are displayed on the board. Dream appears to be slacking, having yet to take a life.

“Someone’s been real fucking busy.” Charlie observes. It’s true, you have been.

“I found James in Nav, but holy shit--” You begin, exasperated, “--what the fuck, guys, how did we miss this shit? Where is everyone?”

“I’m at Electrical.” Corpse voices.

“And I’m with Corpse.” One sentence is all it takes to figure out your next target: Bretman. Revenge for being killed first in the first goddamn round, and for spending so much time with your boyfriend.

Eep!!! Boyfriend boyfriend boyfriend!!! The word even makes you forget your thirst for blood, that’s how whipped you are. Sadly, it’s time to return to reality, to this grave situation.

“And what have the two of you been conspiring?” You keep your tone level, but that alone is enough to set everyone off. The unease you had planted within them before the game started is starting to bloom. However, if they suspect you, they don’t speak up, not yet.

“Fishnets, mostly.” Corpse says.

only partly a lie he was mostly talking abt u queen <3

corpse simping for y/n is the sweetest thing ever

the times corpse used y/ns name when talking abt y/n: 1. the times he used baby or my baby: infinite

“I’m wearing them right nyoooow.” Bretman drawls.

You hum, “What a coincidence. I am, too.”

“Wait--For real?” That seems to catch Corpse’s attention, because of course it does, you picked them with him in mind, after all.

“No peeping.” You tsk, obviously referring to his tendency to hop onto your stream unprompted. Whether he actually listens to your demands is beyond you, “Peeping means cheating.”

“For the love of fuck all, can we get back to the three dead bodies, please? Because I’m about to have a second coming of Christ moment and taste my consumed, digested beer for the second time.” Charlie interjects.

“I mean, anyone have any ideas who’d do this?” Dream takes hold of the conversation. Quiet, disappointed nos greet him. They have nothing to go on, no clues, not even a subliminal message. With everyone scattered, there is no way of locating the actual bodies and drawing a long red trail leading back to you.

You’re too good at lying, and Dream is too good of a publicist. People tend to trust his judgement, which is his main asset (besides his calm demeanor of course). When the Among Us gods chose you as Impostor, they made sure you had every advantage.

“Who-Who do you think it is, Dream?” Ash questions, “I trust you. I do. Just know that.”

“No fucking clue.”

“Y/n?” She tries again.

“Same. I’m a bit worried, though.”

“Let’s, uhhh, let’s skip?” Sykkuno offers. The consensus is to start voting at six. Your new mission is to make sure you dwindle the numbers down drastically before that can happen. You have no qualms about sacrificing Dream in order to meet your goals, either. Absolutely cold blooded.

Back at Cafeteria, there are words exchanged about Quackity’s body just laying there, forgotten. Blame is shifted: how come we didn’t notice sooner? Where’s Rae? And you mindlessly go along with their mourning, not really paying attention. Dream leaves with Charlie and Sykkuno, Corpse requests you stay with him and you sprout fake apologies. Not his time yet. Us girls need to stick together!, you sing, following after Ashley and getting further and further away from him, going deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of the spaceship.

You find yourself in Security with her, her cute astronaut pressed to the cameras, watching the live feed, “Let’s lurk here, okay? Maybe we’ll see something.” If only she saw who was standing behind her.

“Who do you think is the Impostor?” You ask, standing in the doorway, “Or, more like, who are the Impostors?”

“Honestly?” She ends her word with a little sigh, “I think it might be Corpse and Bretman. I haven’t seen them at all this game.”

You smile, raising your brows, tilting your heard, and you sound so kind, like a dear old friend about to deliver a tender message, “...Have you seen me?”

“SHIT!”

Too late. In one smooth motion she joins the afterlife. You cut the lights, venting mindlessly till you spot Corpse and Bretman panicking in Weapons. Your existence is still a mystery to them.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck--” Corpse mumbles, “Bretman, don’t you dare fucking kill me right now.”

“I’m not Impostor!”

“Okay, I’ll drink to that.”

They rush out of Weapons, most likely on their way to Electrical, and you trail after them like the Grim Reaper itself, biding your time till you can deliver the killing blow.

“Corpse?!” You call out, mild panic ringing in your voice, “Is that you?”

“Shit, Y/n? Where are you?” He questions. Crew vision is so sad, so small, how can he not see you standing almost right next to him? “Where’s Ash?”

“I dunno,” You say, “when the lights went out I ran. Please don’t kill me.”

“I’d never do that, baby.”

Too easy. They’re all too fucking easy. You bite your lower lip, trying to stop the laugh bubbling in your chest, to stop the lightheaded dizziness that overcomes you with a rush of excitement.

“Thanks, pretty boy.” You mutter, and it sounds a bit lower than you intended, a bit darker, something sinister lurking underneath cotton candy words. It instantly clicks in Bretman and he makes a noise, something like a whine, and you see him backing away, “I know I can always trust you.”

Whether Corpse notices the odd shift in tone, he doesn’t show it, “I like it when you call me that.” Is all he says, and you hear the smile in his voice, the appreciation. The trek to Electrical is all but forgotten. You slowly make your way to Bretman, “Where are you? Come here.”

“Just a minute,” You say cheerily, “I just need to kill Bret first.”

“Holy shit.”

“N-” Your victim’s sentence is cut off in a second, and you can’t contain your manic cackle this time, because the screen bleeds red, the words VICTORY splattered on it, depicting yours and Dream’s sneaky astronauts. You’re still laughing as the voices of your fallen friends ring in your ears.

“Y/n, what the fuck, you’re an actual monster.” Dream says, but there’s no actual weight behind his words, each syllable punctured with a laugh.

“I knew the second she asked me about my favorite scary movie that I’d get the chop.” James states.

“Wait, Y/n, did you kill everyone?” Corpse questions.

“She fucking did!” Dream answers for you, “I got Charlie and Sykkuno, and barely at that. What the fuck.”

“I’ve been waiting so fucking long for this.” You admit, giggling, raising you glass, “I toast to you, Dream. My perfect partner in crime.”

“I didn’t really do shit, but cheers.”

Quackity heaves a heavy sigh, “Y/n, Y/n, you don’t actually think I’m weird, right? Right?”

“No, she does.” James chimes.

“WHAT THE FUCK DID I EVER DO TO YOU, DUDE?!”

More commotion, more noise, and you just sit there, buzzed, snickering, reading the chat as the rest agree to play another round. You thank the people who donated that you had accidentally missed among the, you know, murder, reply to a few questions, bow dramatically to the many praises and invisible flowers you receive for such beautiful assassin work. When you look back at the screen, you throw your head back with a maniacal laugh.

Impostor again, only this time it’s with Charlie. Family bonds are often restored when united under a common goal. You’re so happy. So happy. You weren’t done terrorizing your friends yet.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse social media au #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fic #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #quackity #dream smp #corpse x y/n #imagine #imagines #reader #xreader

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gay-salt-amber · 3 years ago

Note

How about a ask based off a mall trip? Weird I know, but I'm craving that 7/11 rn and reading your Valentines Day fic sparked the idea somewhat The prompt basically is everyone in the dorms minus the some are separated during a break and that's not sitting right with everyone so they all set up a plan to take a day in the city! (All while "abducting" Riddle and Idia from their parents home, Floyd says it's not abducting it's saving). They go to the biggest mall in Twisted Wonderland and spend time there, dares were made and they shopped until they can't hold their things that much, but before that they spend some time and watched a film in the movie theater (I see some shippy moments of Kalim holding onto Jamil and Floyd being a smart ass giving him a thumbs up before Riddle or Azul smacks him, also I can't get the image of Trey and Jade behind Riddle who's between Cater and Floyd both getting popcorn and snacks from his lap and he's just RED like O////o "help") and the gang eats in the food court and they all just have a fun ol time.

It has nothing to do with the next gen of my previous ask but ye!

Also, I have a solution of your multishipper heart that I suffer with as well; Mixing

For me I like Riddle x Floyd and I also like Trey x Jade but also like Trey x Riddle and Trey x Cater, so I made them into kind of one big poly ship or wrote them as neighbors

Because of that when I saw Epel x Savanaclaw but also First Years as Poly I was like, "Oh, perfect mixing opportunity!" So, for me at least how I see it up to you, it'd be Epel, Deuce, Sebek, Jack, Leona, and Ruggie as one large relationship. I'd add Ace too but I like KalJamAce so I literally only see-

Ace: "You two are just jealous I'm dating two second years"

Epel: "Bitch we're dating each other, a second year, a third year, AND all our boyfriends can easily kick your boyfriend's asses!"

Nothing to do with that, just wanted to let you know and hope it amuses you. I'm awkward in ask since I'm a sly blob who thinks I'm weird, so hi. Shy blob here and shy blob is gonna start drawing some art based off your helpful headcanons, hope you're having a awesome day. - Raven/Rae (she/they)

So, I already did the first one a little bit but, I will write about the foot court and theater one! This wont be a full fanfic but it'll be snippets since ig that's my thing now! Also im putting Epel x Savanaclaw and Floyd x Cater x Riddle x Che'nya in here cuz this is my blog and I can :/

The film they go see is prolly a comedy, Rook and Vil wanted to go to a romance movie but were outvoted -w-

They over-do the butter on the popcorn but who's complaining? Certainty not them

Ruggie was gonna bring in his own candy but Leona bought him as much as he (and Epel) wanted when they got there... No matter how much Ruggie may have protested

Ruggie has his head on Leona's shoulder the whole time since there's a tall guy infront of them (One of the Leech twins prolly) and can't see the screen otherwise

Rook and Vil would be talking about the filming job and Vil would be like, "Thank goodness I didn't take this movie offer" and the movies worth like 1M with like a bunch of older and richer actors and it weirds everyone else out

So, Kalim cries from laughing very easily so he just has his arms around Jamil while crying-laughing into his shoulder

Riddle def is the one who smacks Floyd for laughing

Che'nya pops up next to Floyd, Riddle and Cater and they all quietly gasped, gave him kisses and hugs then went back to watching the movie with their other bf

Epel is trying so hard to not laugh at the dirty jokes cuz he knows Vil will flick him over the head for it (Rook is trying to hold back too dw) so he goes and sits with Leoruggie and just dies laughing at the next joke

So, Jack is sitting right on Leona's left side and Leona is whispering spoilers to him, bonus is that he's never seen the movie, hes just whispering random shit to him like, "He ends up dating her" or, "They get their head blown off"

During one of the final songs of the movie, Idia hacks into the speakers are Rick Rolls everyone

Floyd, Lilia, Kalim and Cater don't stay for the after credit scene because "We wanna be surprised for the next one!"

When they go to the food court, Che'nya wanted to do the Lady and the Tramp pasta thingy and Riddle goes, "Well how are we gonna do it? We don't have a four-way pasta noodle." And Floyd, being the dirty minded boy he is the second he heard four-way he started dying laughing, the other two joined in and it took Riddle 5 seconds to get it and he turned beat red

Jade and Trey get pastries and Cater films them reviewing them like their fucking Gordan Ramsey

"we drink boba tea to satisfy our ancient & innate urge to slurp up tadpoles from a puddle through a reed"-Ace Trappola 2xxx

They went clothing shopping and Epel and Kalim were trying on some things and asking their partners opinions, only one out of four of them gave any feedback and that was Leona since for some reason he wasn't overly flustered by how pretty Epel looked

Riddle wants help to look more androgynous and the minute that was said Che'nya was ALL over that shit like what did Riddle want? Shoes? Skirts? Pants? Hair stuff? He didn't care if it made Riddle happy so be it

Epel gets nervous when it comes to holding Leona's hand until Leona just sighs and initiates it and says, "If you wanna do it, just fucking do it."

Floyd gets them onto the roof somehow and they go up there and chill despite Riddles protest about it at first

They gave Rook the aux cord on the way back, big mistake

Leona buys them all alcohol afterwards and they all go to the Ramshackle dorm to enjoy themselves for the night

-----

Ik this is like super short but y'know ;-; also good luck with the fanart im really excited to see it :D -Amber

#jamil x kalim #Riddle x Floyd x Cater x Che'nya #Epel x Savanaclaw #Ask #TWST #gay #headcanons #rookvil #trey x jade

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weasleylangs · 4 years ago

Text

dirty little secret / g.w

‘i go around a time or two, just to waste my time with you’

Summary: Being friends with benefits was a mutual decision, a way to relieve stress when needed after a stressful twelve months. It was decided it was just between them, not to be anybodies business but George and Y/N’s, but she doesn’t want to be his dirty little secret anymore. Pairing: George Weasley x Fem!Reader Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI !! no graphic depictions of sex but there’s one really fucking steamy kiss and sex & fwb situations/hookup culture is discussed heavily, sweet aftercare for both reader and George, jealousy & possession (nothing toxic), alcohol / drinking, food. Word Count: 5.6k AUTHORS NOTE / aaaaa the first instalment for my pop punk series!!! this one is based off dirty little secret by the all american rejects! im going to kiss @weelittleweasley for helping me write the steamy kiss btw!!!!!

POP PUNK COLLECTION

(all 18+) taglist / @spacexcowgirl @weelittleweasley @lumos-barnes @butterflybuchanan @levylovegood @omghufflepuff @mitsukui

----------

Y/N hears George when he reenters her room, a glass of water in one of his hands, a washcloth in the other. Her legs still feel slightly numb from the pleasure she had just been on the receiving end of, a blissed-out expression on her face as she makes grabby hands towards the man in her doorway.

George smiles dopily down at her, helping her sit up before handing her the glass of water. “How are you feeling?” he asks, checking in as he starts to help clean Y/N up. He quickly stops when she winces, scared he hurt her. “Fuck, sorry,” he whispers, pulling his hand away but when she laughs and grabs his hand, he relaxes.

“It’s fine,” she smiles, the look of euphoria still gracing her facial features. “Just a little sensitive,” she says honestly. George nods slightly, a proud smile on his lips as he goes back to cleaning her skin, taking extra care in areas where Y/N would be sensitive.

He’s always like this after sex, making sure she’s okay. It’s a part of the reason why Y/N agreed on being friends with benefits with him in the first place, he’s the most trustworthy person she knows.

It all started when they were twenty-one; the war had finished, their loved ones were safe and they so desperately needed to unwind in a very specific way after the stress of the previous twelve months. It was a mistake at first, two best friends drunkenly joking about sleeping together and the next thing they knew, they were rolling in the sheets together. Y/N was positive she ruined her longest friendship, but when George began his own personal ritual of aftercare, she knew she couldn’t let him go easily.

This is why when the preposition of friends with benefits was put on the table by George, she immediately took it; six months later they’re still sleeping together, and even though her feelings for George are evergrowing, she’s happy with their current situation.

“You sure you’re okay?” George presses when he’s noticed Y/N’s eyes glazed over. He’s worried he went a little harder than usual tonight. The stress of getting the joke shop back up and running has been getting to him and he needed a release of pressure in more ways than one.

“Yes, I’m sure,” she says, taking George’s hand in her own before pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles that causes a soft red hue to develop across his freckled cheeks. That’s something else she’s learnt about George since she began sleeping with him; he needs aftercare for himself just as much herself, and he mostly needs it in some form of physical affection. “Just thinking, nothing bad. I promise.”

George nods asking if Y/N’s good to be picked up. She giggles when she realises he’s taking her to the bathroom so she can pee. He sits her down on the toilet before turning around and gasping as he sees his reflection in the mirror. “Fuck woman,” he exclaims, before twisting his body so he can see the scratches that start at his shoulders and trail down his back. “Were you trying to rip me apart?”

He hears a giggle come from behind him, quickly followed by a toilet flushing. He feels her frame push past him so she can wash her hands and when she reaches to grab some cream to put on George’s back she lets out her own gasp.

“George Fabian Weasley, what the fuck?” Her neck has a hickey, and not just a small one. She’s beginning to question whether George is part vampire when she looks up at him and he’s smirking at her, a mischievous glint in his eye. “It’s Spring! I have lunch with Angie tomorrow! I can’t cover these!”

George almost feels bad, but his admiration for his work on her neck is slightly winning over his guilt. “I’m sorry, darling,” it’s genuine and they both know it when Y/N’s scowl falters slightly, threatening to smile.

“No, you’re not,” she says, grabbing the cream for his back and pushing him back into her bedroom. Before she begins to help George, she stands in front of her drawers, grabbing clothes to put on now she’s come out of her post-sex haze. She hears the redhead behind her chuckle when he recognises the sweater she puts on as his own as he puts his own boxers back on. “But I guess it’s payback. Your back’s going to hurt tomorrow and Fred’s going to wonder why.”

None of their friends are aware of... their arrangement. They agreed, knowing they would make it weird. After all, Fred’s engaged to his long term girlfriend from their Hogwarts years and their other friends have all started putting themselves out there, so it’s safe to say, they’re the last two to start to settle down.

But they like their current relationship; it’s carefree, it’s simple, it’s not complicated like a proper relationship and if they’re honest, they get some mindblowing sex out of it. So it’s not anybody’s business but each other’s.

After a while, Y/N’s finished putting the cream on George’s back. She spent the time mumbling apologies whenever George winces, she didn’t realise how hard she was going so she makes a mental note to not rip apart his back the next time they see each other. She presses a gentle kiss to the base of George’s neck, something she doesn’t think too much about but it feels like it’s blurring the lines between romantic and platonic right now and she feels herself panic a tiny bit.

“Do you work tomorrow?” She asks George, who hums in agreement. His eyes are droopy like he’s almost falling asleep and Y/N expected this. He’s putty in anybody’s hands the second you start trailing your hands gently up any part of his body, specifically his back. “Are you sleeping here tonight?” she giggles as she asks and George sighs.

“I probably shouldn't but-” he cuts himself off with a yawn before rolling over onto his back. “Your bed is just so much more comfortable than mine.”

Y/N rolls her eyes, pushing him slightly before jumping off the bed and leaving George to frown at her when she moves from her spot next to him. She grabs her wand from her bedside table, walking through her flat to make sure all her lights are turned off before enchanting ‘lumos’ so she can light her way back to her bedroom.

“You’re letting me stay?” She nods at his words, crawling into bed with him. While she knows George is a sucker for physical affection, Y/N is also well aware he hates sleeping cuddled up to people so she gives him his space in the bed. Because of this, she doesn’t expect George to shift his body so even though they’re not cuddling, they’re still close, a simple form of comfort that neither of them can decipher as platonic or romantic.

“Yes, you can stay,” she says, rubbing her thumb along George’s hand as a way of saying goodnight, “but you wake me up before 9am tomorrow and you die.”

-----

When Y/N wakes up the next morning to her alarm going off, the side of the bed is empty and cold. Her alarm clock reads 10:30am, so she knows George has been gone for a few hours at this point. She feels a small sense of sadness, remembering how fun the mornings are the times George sleeps over and stays until she wakes up.

She sighs, deciding there’s no point in dwelling on George’s absence. When she walks into her kitchen, she checks her kettle; cursing George when she finds it empty because she knows he just had to have a cup of tea before leaving this morning and rolls her eyes as she fills it herself. Her kettle’s boiling as she potters around when she spots a piece of paper with George’s writing all over it.

‘George’s excuses for the hickeys’ the note reads in his messy scrawl, and Y/N has to stifle a cackle before she continues to read. ‘1. ran into a door’ is scratched out immediately and she knows George probably thought it was a good idea at first before realising the hickeys are on her neck, so the running into the door isn't feasible. ‘2. bug’ is the next one and she has to stop herself from rolling her eyes and when she goes back to George’s oh so incredible list, her breath hitches.

‘3. be honest and say you hooked up with someone’ makes Y/N’s heart sink. She hasn’t slept with anyone besides George in the past six months, hasn’t wanted to either for that matter, but it makes her realise something.

She doesn’t know if George is the same.

She’s well aware of their situation and the lack of commitment outside of promising to come over later, but her emotions hit her harder than she thought they would. While she wouldn’t complain if she and George became something more, she knows it’s not what either of them is looking for at the moment, so she doesn’t understand why she’s so hurt. Does George think I shag other people? she thinks before the kettle starts to hiss to indicate the water is boiled and she’s brought back to reality.

After drinking her tea, Y/N begins to get ready, trying her best to cover the purple bruises littering her neck and trying to keep herself under control while she admires them in the mirror. Soon enough, she’s out the door and making her way to Diagon Alley where she spots Angie, talking with Fred.

“Y/N!” Fred exclaims as she gets closer and waves frantically as she walks towards them. “We’re just talking about how we think George has a bird!” Y/N chokes on air, her brows furrowing at Fred’s words. They’ve been so careful, a bit too careful when it comes to hiding their relationship from their friends so she doesn’t understand.

“Why do you think that?” Her tone is casual, trying to act natural as she tries to find out what signs could point to their... activities being exposed, and to his brother of all people.

Fred starts laughing again, holding his stomach as he tries to tell the story. “He didn’t come home last night- I only noticed because I was up at 3 and his bedroom door was open which was weird because he didn’t tell me he was going out!” Fred’s animated when he’s talking, taking a sip of his drink and using his free hand to emphasise his story. “And when he was reaching for something in a closet today he winced, like his back hurt!”

Y/N stares at Fred blankly, memories of the night before flooding her memory when Fred mentions George wincing. She knows now is not the time to start thinking about how good George made her feel last night. “What does wincing have to do with anything?”

She knows she made a mistake when Fred’s eyes widen, staring at her. “Well, my dear prude Y/N, my back only hurts when it’s scratched up from a good fu-”

“Okay, we do not need to hear about your sex life,” Angie says, grabbing Y/N by the shoulders and steering her off. “We have a lunch date that you’re not invited to.” She’s smiling when she says it and when Fred bids the two girls goodbye, Angie calls out something about making fun of George for her.

She’s quiet on the walk to the cafe she and Angelina have planned for lunch, lost in thoughts. She’s stuck on the idea of George sleeping with other people even though she knows she was the one with George last night, that she was the one scratching up his back. They walk in tandem, Angelina raving about Quidditch while Y/N nodded in acknowledgement at appropriate times.

Eventually, they reach the cafe, quickly taking a seat and looking at the menu. It’s then when Angelina’s hand pulls the menu down from Y/N’s face and she’s giving the girl a questioning look.

“What’s wrong?” She asks.

Y/N stares at her, not understanding how she did anything to convey any feeling at all, let alone a feeling of something being wrong. She’s about to deny it when she looks Angelina in the eye, and she realises she can’t lie to her because she’d be questioned for the rest of lunch. “Do you think George has a friend with benefits?”

Angelina giggles at Y/N’s words, smiling slightly. “I know you’re sleeping with him.” She says it so casually that Y/N doesn’t even process what she said for a few beats. She half expected her friend to admit she was also sleeping with George, after all, she used to suspect they had a thing when they were teenagers but this is the last thing she expected.

She’s so baffled she can’t even deny it, no words leaving her mouth for a second before she just stares at Angelina, “How?”

Angelina keeps smiling, quickly ordering their drinks when the waitress comes over and requests a little longer to decide on food before turning back to her friend sitting dumbfounded across the table. “Fred might be stupid and oblivious, but I’m not. I see the way he looks at you.”

Y/N doesn’t think George looks at her in any particular way, at least he doesn’t when she isn’t under him and she notices Angelina’s eyes soften when Y/N doesn’t say anything. “You didn’t know before sleeping with him?”

“Didn’t know what before sleeping with him?”

“That he likes you?” Y/N thinks Angelina’s being stupid; it’s always been her liking George and George not noticing, not the other way around. George has always been sweet and gentle in bed, way nicer and way more giving than any other romantic partner in her past, but she’s always chalked it up to him just being George. That’s how she’s always known him, how she knew him when they met at 11, how she knew him on the Quidditch pitch when they were 15 and how she knows him now, at 22 and in his bed.

“He doesn’t like me, you’re just making stuff up!” She’s adamant Angelina’s just messing with her but Angelina just sighs, obviously ready to move on from the topic. “He doesn’t,” she whispers to no one in particular and she feels Angelina grab her hand, rubbing a thumb across the top in a comforting kind of way.

“I guess it’s not my place to say,” she starts, “but I’ve never seen George treat someone else like the way he treats you. It’s like... It’s like you’re glass, that he’s scared of breaking you and you have to be in his sights at all times.” It’s soft and Y/N knows it’s genuine as much as she hates to admit it.

The conversation changes, thankfully putting Y/N and George out of the hot seat but she’s hanging onto every word of Angelina’s, suddenly overthinking every interaction she’s had with the redhead in the past few months. Panic starts to set in and it only gets worse when Angelina bids her goodbye.

Her thoughts are loud; does she like George or does she like the way George makes her feel? What if George has liked her this entire time and she’s mistaken her feelings for romantic when they’re purely physical?

As she wonders, she realises she’s being stupid. Y/N knows she likes George, she’s liked George for so long and she likes him so much it hurts. That’s when a new thought arrives, a more sinister thought, a meaner thought; What if Angelina is just completely wrong, that’s always a possibility. What if George doesn’t like her back at all.

-----

She wanders Diagon Alley, making her way to the Apothecary after remembering she needs some more Valerian sprigs to make a new batch of the Potion for Dreamless Sleep. She’s muttering to herself as she wanders the store, thinking about how these days her best night's sleep are spent besides George but the thought is quickly pushed away when she spots her ingredient of choice and she can barely reach it.

“Fuck,” she mutters, looking around for a stool or a shop assistant so she can finally get out of Diagon Alley. She’s about to give up and leave herself when she’s met with a tough body slamming into her own. Apologies spill from her mouth quickly, feeling terrible she almost knocked this poor guy over in the middle of the Apothecary but when she looks up, George is looking down at her.

“What do you need, darling?” The nickname makes her heart race and she only hopes George can’t hear it seconds away from beating from her chest. She doesn’t respond immediately, preoccupied with how nice he looks and it’s not until he waves in front of her face that she responds.

“Sorry,” she says, shaking her head in a way to push away her thoughts, “was looking for some Valerian sprigs.” She hopes George minds his own business, memories from her meeting with Angelina flooding her thoughts. She starts to over analyse the way George looks at her, whether it’s as if she’s glass, like Angelina claims but when she looks at George, he’s reaching up and grabbing the jar for her.

“Treacle fudge?” He questions, and it takes her a moment to process he’s asking why she needs the ingredient.

“Dreamless Sleep,” she replies, embarrassed. She’s never needed a sleeping potion when George is around, his presence alone is enough to fight off any unwanted nightmares but that’s the last thing he needs to know. Thankfully, he doesn’t comment, just puts the jar back up on the shelf when she’s done and motions for her to follow him around the store.

He stops in front of the rose thorns, silently debating how many to get when he feels Y/N’s eyes on him. “Love potion, for WonderWitch,” he says, grabbing some and putting them in a bag before making his way to the counter. He grabs the Valerian sprigs from Y/N’s hand, placing them alongside his rose thorns and ignoring her protests when he hands some Galleons to the shopkeeper.

“I get a discount,” he says when they exit the shop, “plus, I didn’t mind.” Y/N stares at him, not able to read a single emotion on his face. She thanks him and takes the Valerian sprigs from him and places them in her bag.

“Do you wanna come over tonight?” He asks, rubbing the back of his neck. “Fred won’t be home.” His cheeks are flushed red, almost like he’s shy asking to see her for the second night in a row. The word ‘yes’ is on the tip of her tongue, threatening to spill out without her permission. She badly wants to let the word slip as well, but her thoughts from earlier come to the forefront once again and at this moment, Y/N can’t seem to convince herself that George wants her in the same way she wants him.

“No, sorry,” she says bluntly, and she doesn’t miss the look of shock on his face. Y/N has never turned George down and while he respects her no, it confuses him nonetheless. “Just... Not feeling well. You know?”

Y/N knows George doesn’t believe her, she sees it in his eyes, but he hums in acknowledgement before lifting his wrist and checking his watch. “Look, I’ve gotta go, Fred’s going to kill me,” the words are forced like he wants to stay and make sure everything is okay between the pair and he’s being pulled away too soon. “I’ll see you sometime this week, yeah?”

“Yeah, maybe,” Y/N says, knowing he doesn’t mean sometime this week in his bed, but the thought happens before she can stop it and it’s right now she realises she needs to push George away before she gets more hurt.

-----

It’s been a week since Y/N turned down George’s offer to come over that night, and she has a feeling he’s avoiding her. Usually, when Y/N denies him it only takes him a few days before he comes crawling back or vice versa; they’ve never been able to go long without falling into bed together, the co-dependency on each other for a hook up was one they never discussed, but was known, so the fact George didn’t end up in her bed during the week makes her painfully aware something is wrong and even though she knows it’s her own fault, it doesn’t make it hurt any less.

The suspicion is only confirmed when she’s dragged to a bar in Muggle London on the following Saturday night. Angie, Katie and Alicia’s complaints that Y/N’s been too high strung this week getting to her and their peer pressure eventually worked. She doesn’t mind the bar- it’s not too busy but it’s still got enough people in it for a good time and Katie and Lee are getting everyone drinks when Y/N spots a head of bright, auburn hair across the room.

She doesn’t even think twice before knowing it’s George, and it’s got nothing to do with the girl next to him, hanging off every word he’s saying not being Fred’s fiancée. The way she feels in her entire body when she spots him, the ache in her heart she feels is what confirms it’s George. He’s the only person to ever have this kind of power over her and at this moment, she wishes he didn’t.

Because George is flirting with the girl next to him and she’s batting her eyelashes, clearly happy with the attention the cute redhead is giving her and Y/N wants nothing more than to be in her place and it hurts, even more, knowing she usually is in her place. George is a lot more comfortable talking sex once he has a few glasses of whiskey, so the flirting gets turned up to an eleven and all their friends laugh at his forwardness.

Angelina sees Y/N staring longingly at the younger twin and without words she knows something is wrong. So she grabs the tequila from Katie and places it in front of Y/N. “Drink it.” She looks at Angelina, confused why her attention was stolen from George but smiles happily when the shot glass is in her hand.

It burns as it slides down her throat, after all, tequila always does. She quickly takes the lemon from whoever’s holding it out to her, pulling a face as the sourness meets her taste buds. Angelina, Katie and Alicia and hollering when she looks back at them, her friends successfully stealing her attention from George as they drag her to the dancefloor. ABBA is playing over the loudspeaker, and the girls yell in excitement, they would never pass up the opportunity to dance to ABBA; memories of post-Quidditch parties and sneaking Firewhiskey into the Gryffindor Common Room coming to the forefront of their minds.

They dance for who knows how long with Lee joining them as he dances between Alicia and Katie, playing up the ladies’ man role. It makes Y/N laugh, Lee clearly loving the attention from the girls but it’s at that moment she spots George and the girl from earlier, dancing; George’s hands are on her hips, respectful but holding her close and it fills Y/N with a feeling so horrible, she has to turn around to push the vile, green monster back down.

Thankfully, or not so thankfully, she’s not entirely sure just yet, she turns to face a guy. He’s cute, got a puppy dog look about him and he smiles at Y/N in a way that indicates he’s asking to dance. She says yes, of course, and her hands wrap around his neck. She hates that she’s spending this time dancing with him comparing him to George; his hands aren’t as calloused, he smells like mint as opposed to the familiar scent of cinnamon and Earl Grey tea, her heart isn't racing like it would if she was with the redhead.

George sees her across the dance floor because his eyes haven’t left her all night. He knows he’s leading this poor girl on, Bianca is her name; he’s not going to end up taking her home like he knows she’s hoping, but he needed a distraction. When he sees Y/N starting to dance with a guy, his jaw tenses and his eyes narrow; he knows he’s being stubborn. If he just talked to Y/N everything would be sorted but he doesn’t want to be the one to break, he wants Y/N to come to him, to want him.

Their eyes meet across the dance floor, the guy’s head dipping into the crook of Y/N’s neck, his arm is wrapped around her waist as her back is pressed against his chest, grinding her bum onto his crotch. She tries to look away from George but she can’t, his eyes are enchanting and this is the most attention they’ve gotten from each other since that day in Diagon Alley. George whispers something into the girl’s ear, his grip on her hips getting tighter but his eyes never leave Y/N’s.

It’s Y/N who breaks eye contact, her head falling back onto her dance partner’s shoulder and when George sees open mouth kisses pressed to Y/N’s neck, he snaps. He mutters an excuse to Bianca and walks as fast as he can to the girl he wants. He sees his friends snickering at each other as they dance but no one says anything.

She feels his presence before she feels him grab her wrist, so he doesn’t scare her. Her head immediately pops up, looking George in the eye. “Oi, nah. I had her first,” the guy behind Y/N says, his grip visually tightening on Y/N as if she’s a toy and George is coming to steal it, but he has to stifle a laugh; the guy’s confident, George’ll give him that.

“Nah, mate,” he starts, the music changing to a more sensual R&B song as he speaks. He sees Y/N blush at his simple words and he gently tugs at her wrist again, not in a demanding kind of way; he’s asking, pleading her to follow him and when she steps away from the guy she was dancing with, she mutters an apology before letting George drag her where he wants to go.

----

They don’t even say two words to each other once they’re in the bathroom together. George pulls her inside quickly, before pushing her up against the door, attaching his lips immediately to her neck before he gently sucks and bites, subconsciously leaving a small hickey like it's the most natural thing in the world for him to do. She’s missed having him this close so when her fingers rake through his long hair, she gives it a gentle tug before pulling his mouth up to her own, wanting to kiss him with everything she has, needing him even closer. He obliges of course, always happy to give Y/N what she wants.

When George’s lips finally meet hers, he’s kissing her like it’s the last time they’ll ever kiss; it’s messy, desperate, like most of their kisses are, hands gripping wherever they can just to ensure the other isn’t leaving. George is intoxicating to Y/N like she can get drunk from the taste of his whiskey covered lips alone and her head spins when she feels his hands rake up her body, grasping her waist and pushing her harder against the door. A small moan leaving Y/N’s lips is all George needs to force his tongue into her mouth, massaging their tongues together and she tugs at the hair at the nape of his neck again, desperately needing him as close as humanly possible without defiling this public bathroom. The action makes George whimper, loving nothing more than having her fingers tugging at his auburn locks and it gives her a slight power trip. Just a slight one, as she tries to take control of the kiss.

It doesn’t last long because before she knows it, she’s whimpering under his touch and surrendering everything she has to him as his hands caress her body, grabbing and pulling her to him wherever possible. His hands eventually land on her thighs, and when he grabs them and hoists her up, her legs immediately wrap around his waist. The action alongside the pressure on her crotch makes her moan and she feels George smirk at her noises, obviously feeling proud of being the only person to be able to do this to her. He pivots slightly once he’s holding her, placing Y/N on the counter next to the sink so they’re finally level to kiss comfortably.

He keeps his spot between her legs, refusing to detach his lips from hers, his hands crawling from her thighs to tightly grasp her hips. If it was any other day, Y/N would’ve said something, telling him to be careful of bruises but right now, after watching him flirt with the girl out in the bar for hours on end, there’s nothing she wants, no needs, more than George marking her in every way he can.

“Mine,” she moans without thinking, as his lips leave hers, slowly making their way across her jaw and onto her neck once again, licking, biting, sucking. George has always loved her neck and he knows how much she loves having her neck touched. “You’re mine,” she repeats when George doesn’t immediately push her away, and she doesn’t even have time to decide to panic before she hears a groan in her ear.

“Yours,” he whispers, his hot breath causing goosebumps to prickle along her skin. The words don’t even process in her brain before she feels George pull away from her. The lack of contact makes her whine, she never wants to be far away from George ever again but he smiles, presses the most gentle kiss on her lips before looking her directly in her eyes, “I’m yours.”

Her heart stops, she never thought for a second she’d hear George mutter those words, let alone in a dingey, small bathroom of a bar in Central London, but here it is. “Don’t play with me, Georgie,” she whispers. From her spot on the counter, she can look him directly in the eyes; his cheeks are flushed red, his pupils are blown, lips swollen and red. His hair has gotten messy from her pulling at it but she can’t bring herself to feel bad that she ruined his perfectly styled hair because at this moment, she thinks this is the most beautiful she’s ever seen him, so vulnerable and the look of adoration in his eyes fills her chest with hope.

“Would I ever play with you, darling?” He asks, his words are sincere and she knows it. It’s soft, reminiscent of all those times he’s looked after her after having sex, when he promises to look after her, always.

“I’d hope not, I was having fun with…” She trails off, realising she never caught his name before she starts laughing. She feels George’s hands tighten against her thighs, hyperaware of his touch on her skin and she grabs one of his hands. “I didn’t actually know his name. I was pretending he was you.”

She says it so softly she wouldn’t be shocked if he missed it, but he didn’t. He hangs to every word she says, he always does and when he smiles, Y/N feels herself relax. “I was using Bianca to make you jealous,” he admits, laughing to himself. He knew the pair of them were being stupid, that they could have just talked but the fear of rejection clearly got the best of both of them.

“I’ve liked you for so long, and maybe I shouldn't have put friends with benefits on the table knowing that, but I needed you.” He’s never spoken truer words, his left hand leaving her thigh and gently caressing her cheek. Her makeups smudged from both the sweat from dancing and the desperation from not even five minutes ago, her hairs messy and her lips are swollen just as much as his but he wants to take her home, right this second, and show her in so many ways how much he loves her.

“I like you, too.”

His eyes prick up at her words and he didn’t realise he wasn’t holding eye contact until now. She takes her own left hand and mirrors George’s action on himself; hoping to convey everything she’s felt for him through nothing but looks. “I had to back away last week, I thought I had to get over you. Angie said some dumb shit and I started to overthink and I’m so-”

He cuts her off with a kiss and it’s so different to their usual ones. It’s soft and gentle like they could stay here for hours doing nothing but kissing and they’d be perfectly content. George pulls her body closer to his, desperate just to have her near when he pulls away, pressing his forward to hers. “Don’t say sorry, please.”

She opens her mouth again to speak and that’s when he cuts her off again, with another kiss. This happens a few times before Y/N is a giggling mess and George is just kissing her for the sake of having their lips pressed together. “We know now, that’s all I care about.”

This makes her smile and her heart soar; the boy she’s loved for so long, liking her back once felt like it could only be a dream, and she has to pinch herself multiple times before she finally believes it’s her reality.

They soon realise they’ve been standing in this dirty, bar bathroom for way too long and George helps her down, grabbing her by the hips to stabilise her when her legs slightly give out. He takes her hand in his, softly kissing her knuckles before he opens the bathroom door to sneak out. “My place or yours?” he asks, but he quickly stops, “I’m not expecting to fuck, but like I mean if it happens it happens but- Godric, we can just hang out I’m happy with that unless you want to fuck-”

Y/N’s giggling at his stumbling around on words and she shushes him slightly, his face going bright red when she's the one leaning to press a chaste kiss to his lips. His face is bright red when she speaks, “My place. I live alone.” she winks and runs off after saying this, George hot on her tails and even though there’s music and George’s favourite song is playing, Y/N’s laugh as he chases her out of the bar is his favourite noise.

#george weasley #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x reader #george weasley smut #george weasley one shot

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ponds-puddle · 3 years ago

Text

Life Force ~{10/??}~

word count:1222

no photo this time bc im lazy

BT Masterlist

<< previous .... next >>>

Spending time together felt so natural. It had only been two months and the two of you already move in similar motions, as if you had known each other your entire life. Nights when you would work late, Shinsou would take your spare key and make himself comfortable in your home. He would pick up groceries and meet you at the train station with a bright smile, speaking about the dinner that he had prepared for you. On the way home you would walk in step with one another, talking about the different things that happened in each of your lives that day. Everything felt right. It felt safe and secure.

You didn’t trust it.

Despite the nagging feeling in your chest, you would hold his hand and smile. Maybe if you pretended everything was right in your mind, it would be exactly that. So that’s what you did. You would laugh and smile and always kiss him back. When he would hold you, you would melt into him naturally. There was never a time you would pull back from him. Honestly, you didn’t want to, but there was something burning in your chest that beat on your ribcage- begging to be noticed.

One day at work you were laid out by the sad stargazer. You played your music on a low setting, all your focus placed on it.

“Why are you sad, little stargazer?” you whispered to it, placing a small tap on the exposed stem. It perked at your touch, allowing your energy to swirl down to its roots. A soft smile reached your lips at the feeling of it accepting your love. Being able to help it even a little made you feel good.

“Plants can’t talk,” a new voice spoke from behind you. Unphased by the interruption, you merely looked their way without a change in expression.

“I’m fully aware they can’t talk,” you said sarcastically, pulling yourself up into a sitting position, “But I can feel their emotions, in a way I can hear their thoughts.”

“Yeah,” he shrugged, moving over to you and dropping to his knees in front of the stargazer, “But sometimes their emotions aren’t actual thoughts, you know?”

“No,” you said in curiosity, “What do you mean by that?”

He looked over at you with a soft smile, “What I mean is that it may have been sad in the moment, but being sad isn’t the only thought that it has.”

You watched in intrigue as he cradled the stem. A warm light was exposed from his palm, enveloping it entirely. A short yelp escaped your mouth and you reached for the plant, but he merely swatted your hand away with a smile. “Just watch,” he laughed at you, “If I mess it up then you have full right to hit me. Can you trust me?”

You surveyed the man before you and, after a short moment you decided that there was no way he could be in here if he wasn’t trusted by the rest of staff- right?

“Fine,” you huffed, “But I hit really hard… just so you know.”

He chuckled at your stubbornness, “Noted.”

The two of you turned back to the plant and he continued his action. You watched as the plant began to sprout happily. It even wrapped itself around his wrist, soaking up the light he exposed it to. When he was finished he looked to you as you sat there with a wide smile.

“I’m not even touching it,” you whispered in relief, “but I can still feel it’s emotion. It…”

“It’s better?”

“What did you do?” your voice was desperate. You had been worrying over this plant for a while. It wasn’t blooming the same as the rest of it’s friends.

“I gave it a little bit of life force.”

“Your life force?” you asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “My quirk is life force, I can give it… or take it.”

“I’m hoping you don’t do the latter that much, right?”

His expression grew solemn, “Only when asked… I volunteer in hospitals a lot. Some people… some people prefer the easier way out when things get terminal. My quirk makes it as if they’re falling asleep. I like to put their life force into things like plants or sick children.”

“Does that hurt them?”

“The body is sick,” he explains, mirroring your sitting position, “Their life force is the same. Taking it and moving it to another does not hurt them- it simply allows that person to live on in another being.”

“That’s beautiful,” you said sweetly.

“Okay now that we’ve got that out of the way-”

You looked at him with furrowed brows, confused as to where this was going.

“What’s going on with you? You have turmoil- it’s pulling at your energy,” he said with a concerned tone, “I felt it from down the hall.”

“Nothing?”

“You’re full of shit,” he complained, “Come on I know there is something.”

“There is nothing!” you laughed, “I have a good job and a great friend and a really cool boyfriend. My cat seems to really like him. A house I love filled to the brim with things I like.”

“What’s going on with that boyfriend?”

“In what way? Are you concerned with our se-”

“Definitely not,” he pushed before you could finish the sentence, “Emotionally. What’s going on there?”

“We…” you thought really hard for a moment, “We really like each other.”

“I like chocolate cupcakes too,” he prefaced, “But I don’t imagine myself marrying them.”

“Are you comparing my love life to your love of chocolate cupcakes?”

“Does that sound like your love life?”

You stuttered for a moment, “Who are you exactly?”

“Call me Yaku,” he grinned as he put his hand out to you, “And your name?”

“None of your business,” you gave a sarcastic smirk before standing up an brushing yourself off, “Thanks for helping my stargazer and questioning my relationship with my boyfriend, it was nice to meet you. I have other things I have to do.”

He watched you stomp out of the room, a grin on his lips.

“When you’re out of denial I’m in room 212!”

“Won’t need it, but thanks!”

Shinsou met you at the train station once again. You struggled with your bags until you made it to him. He looked up from his phone to see your angry huffing. With a short chuckle he looked down at your small figure.

“Can I help?”

“Please do.”

He wasted no time in pulling the bags from your hands. You gave him a grateful smile, nearly dropping to the ground in relief. Shinsou threw out an arm, catching you by holding the small of your back.

“Hey,” he said in concern, “What happened? Are you okay?”

You forced out a smile, looking up at the beautiful boy, “Yeah. Yeah I’m good. Just a hard day.”

“Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really.”

He frowned but didn’t push, simply kissing your forehead before turning the two of you towards your street, “Let’s go then?”

You moved at a slow pace, thinking of everything that strange boy said to you.

Was there conflict in my life force?

You looked up at Shinsou, who was going on about Nakoma trying to steal the food he had cooked.

Is he my conflict?

---

ITS ALMOST THE END! BE PREPARED

taglist: @tiny-is-sad-100 @delicatefleur @pansexualproblemchild @just-a-girl-with-alot-of-issues

#bittersweet trickster #Shinsou #shinso #hitoshi shinso #shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou #shinsou hitoshi #hitoshi shinso x reader #hitoshi shinsou x reader #shinsou x reader #mha fanfic #mha fanfiction #mha #shinso mha fanfic #mha fluff #mha series

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0celesteisthebest0 · 3 years ago

Text

Take A Chance On Me

Word count: 5,129

Pairing: Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Fem! Reader(no y/n)

Previous chapter Next chapter

Warnings: Explicit language, grinding, ( tell me if I should add more).

Authors Notes: So a little thing there will be no new chapter next week 😢. I have it queued for next next Saturday because I will be taking a week off tumblr. I just need a bit of time for chapter releases because I’m writing extra dialogue for other chapters so they transition better and such BUT YEAH DO NOT FRET I WILL BE BACK!!! Now that I’m done being serious THE ENDING to this chapter is one of my favorites! Like I love this chapter so much and I’m so excited for you all to read it. A little tidbit about this chapter, there is a specific scene that I wrote where I listened to Don’t stop the music by Rihanna. I really recommend listening to that song and I also recommend listen to Coming closer by DUCKWRTH with that scene. OK IM GOING TO STOP GEEKING OUT ABOUT THIS CHAPTER AND LET YOU GUYS GEEK OUT ABOUT IT! Enjoy 😉 Gif by pajamasecrets

Chapter 9: Dance

The week since you talked to Elizabeth about your issues has made you feel lighter at work. Yes work continues to make you feel drained from so much energy you’ve been putting towards it. But you didn’t have to suffer alone anymore. Both you and Elizabeth would talk to each other after work and complain about anything that happened that day. You two tended to complain a lot because of how many missions you’ve been sent to that week.

After detaining a member of the Golden Apple, any bit of information you received from him, agents were sent to scout the area or to follow other members to find a big location. Everyone at the Statesman office has been working their asses off to be able to stop them from hurting people.

That Friday morning was no different. Everyone continued to try to track down locations and look at the members of the Golden Apple who they could identify. One of those people they got from Joey was a man named Austin Robinson. He was an owner of quite a few clubs in the U.S and he was supposedly going to show up to one in Chicago called Temptation. When you heard about the mission you hoped that you wouldn’t have to be the one undercover but sadly you weren’t so lucky.

“Brandy, Whiskey, I want you two to track Robinsons movements and see where he could take you. You’re leaving in an hour. You’ll be provided with clothing for the mission. Prepare your duffle bags, you two are dismissed,” you nodded and stood up.

You were glad that Champ wasn’t giving you garbage missions anymore but the things Tequila said to you at your office a couple days ago got you thinking. Champ always had a grand expectation of you. You understood why he expected so much from you but it always left you sour, those expectations were never put on your other colleagues. He was always more rough with you and nothing like the treatment he’s given to people like Vodka for messing up. There was never room for errors, you understood that to some extent but it always seemed that there was never room for errors only for you. You sighed softly and started walking out of the conference room.

You just had to think about not going on this mission.

You jinxed yourself with that stupid comment but at least you were paired up with someone you liked. It would’ve been a disaster if you were paired up with Vodka… or worse with the likes of Moonshine. You were dreading going to the club but at least it wasn’t with those two.

“You excited Brandy,” Whiskey asked as you both left the room. You were heading to your office but he was following you there.

“Totally, I just love clubs,” you responded sarcastically. He gave you a small smile and continued to walk by your side.

“Oh come on sweetheart, aren’t you a tiny bit excited, we get to go dancin’ together,” he teased and your face started to heat up. Your mind instantly supplied images of Whiskey grabbing your waist and sliding down to your… nope stop it. You started to walk faster to your office.

“I’m not a dancer,” you responded and opened your office door. The feeling in your stomach that became more and more common anytime you were near Whiskey flipped at the thought of dancing with him.

“Want me to show you how?” He stuttered out, it was something you’ve never seen from Whiskey. It seemed like he was nervous asking you that question. You turned around to look at him and you gave him a confused smile. He was looking at you so strangely.

“Sure but if I step on you this is your warning,” you beamed at him and he gave you a lopsided grin. That feeling in your stomach expanded to your chest and you felt like you were drowning in whatever this emotion was. It was all consuming and you had to look away from Whiskey so you didn’t do something stupid.

“Well sugar, I’m not going to let that happen. See you in a few,” he replied with a wink and left your room. Your heart fluttered and the thoughts of dancing with him seemed like it was going to become a reality.

Stuff it down, this isn’t a date, you are going to this club for a mission so you have to focus on the task at hand.

You push down the feelings and try to find your duffle bag that you left in your office. You look around the mess that you call an office and find your duffle bag behind your chair. You open it to double check that you have everything you need. Spare clothes, toothbrush, hairbrush, deodorant, and of course weapons. You were all ready to go but you still had time before you had to leave so you decided to go downstairs and visit Ginger. The trip down to the lab just reminded you how hectic it was around here. The Golden Apple case wasn’t the only thing that was causing people to act nervous. There were constant threats that sometimes you didn’t know about. Once you got into Ginger’s lab there was a nervous energy emanating from the room.

“I swear to god Tequila…” Ginger snapped and looked at you with tense shoulders. When she saw it was you her shoulders fell and her eyes softened. “Sorry about that Brandy,” she muttered and went back to her work.

“You want to talk about it,” you asked her and set down your go bag. She sighed and took off her statesman glasses and rubbed the temples of her forehead.

“You know how work gets, it’s just that so many people are asking me to do things for them at once that it all gets overwhelming,” she grumbled, her eyes seemed bloodshot, probably due to days without rest. You hummed in agreement and went to stand next to her. You softly rubbed at her back and she sighed. “I wanted to stay home tonight with Tara but I have to keep an eye on you guys for the mission,” she muttered.

“That fucking blows, sorry you can’t be with your girlfriend,” you responded and she gave you a small smile. She sighed and put her glasses back on. “ I just wanted to see you before I left,” you muttered and you thought it would be best to leave her be and deal with those emotions by herself. It’s what you always did so you assumed she would do the same. She smiled wide at your comment.

“Thank you for that...I see that Champ is finally letting you do something other than question people. Don’t know why he was in such a bad mood towards you,” she hummed and you quirked up your eyebrow. You didn’t complain to her about Champ much, you just complained about missions.

You smiled slyly and shook your head, “ I see that you’re gossiping to Isaac about work.”

“It’s not gossiping… it’s just speaking about work,” she muttered quietly and you started to laugh. “Whatever, he does make some points though. Like what kinda idea was it to give the Golden Apple member to Whiskey and Vodka.”

“Whiskey is a capable agent he could-“ you stopped yourself from continuing because of the shining look that Ginger was giving you. You diverted her gaze, “it’s not my place to complain about it, Champ calls the shots.”

“But it’s some dumb decisions, why would he place Vodka of all people on this case after he’s fucked up so spectacularly? He should be yelling at him instead of you,” she stated matter of factly.

“Ginger-“

“You are one of the best agents that the Statesman have, so the treatment that you had to deal with for these past seven years is ridiculous. You deserve better treatment than Vodka or any other agent!” She exclaimed and you were left speechless. You looked at her tense shoulders and the movements of her hands. You moved toward her and rubbed her shoulder.

“Thank you Ginger, really thank you. Champs just been stressed so he’s just been… making dumb decisions. I’ve been here for a long time to trust Champagnes' judgment, the whole Golden Apple situation has been stressful.” You retorted and she rolled her eyes at you and started to continue the work she left on her station.

“You're making excuses for him,” she spoke her thoughts out loud and you sighed.

“I'm not,” you muttered and looked at the time, you had to get to the Jet for the mission.

“Get going you don’t want to keep your Casanova waiting,” she hummed and your eyes widened at her comment. Her face showed no shift and was perfectly still.

“Right, yeah, right… I’ll uh talk to you later. See you around Liz,” you stammered out and started to walk out of her lab feeling a little flustered from Liz’s statement. She usually doesn’t mention the banter between you and Jack so it’s all so strange for her to mention the nickname you gave him after him continuing calling you so many pet names.

“Have fun!” You heard Liz yell as you quickly left her lab. You were going to try and have fun but you really hated clubs, there were going to be so many people pressed against one another and it was going to be so loud. You groan thinking about it and make your way to the jet. The flight was going to be an hour so it could give you time to calm down and not stress out from the mission. Plus Whiskey was going to be there with you so it wasn’t going to be so bad. Yeah everything is going to be alright.

——<><>—<><>——

You and Whiskey arrived at your hotel room. You’ve had to share rooms before so it wasn’t anything new. The jet ride here was quick but it’s mostly because you fell asleep during the ride. You set your duffle bag on your bed and you saw the two black bags with the clothes for the mission. It had your aliases written on them and you grabbed yours. You went to change in the bathroom and left Whiskey alone in the room. You sighed and opened up the black bag.

“Oh you gotta be kidding me,” you whispered to yourself, annoyed at the garment in front of you. It was an emerald green halter neck bodycon dress. The dress exposes the midriff section of your body. It had a stretchy fabric that felt soft on the tips of your fingers. It was a beautiful dress but… you had no confidence to wear something so revealing. It left nothing to the imagination and just looking at it made you heat up. You sighed, you had to wear it there wasn’t anything else you could wear. All you brought in your duffle bag was sleepwear and you couldn’t exactly go to the club in that. You took off the pantsuit that you were wearing and slipped into the emerald dress. You fixed the fabric near your breasts because you didn’t want to have an accidental nip slip.

You looked at the mirror that was in the bathroom and you felt hot from the neck up. It looked pretty but just thinking about everyone looking at you, thinking about Whiskey looking at you made you unbelievably nervous.

You tried to calm down and take deep breaths, you’ll be fine just focus on the mission. You let your hair down and fixed your bracelets. You put on makeup and kept thinking only on the mission. It didn’t calm your nerves but it made you nervous only on the mission. Your hands were shaky so you gave up on wearing eyeliner and opted for eyeshadow and lipstick. Feeling ready you went to open the door but you froze. Your hand grasped at the door handle and it kept shaking. Calm down, calm down, it’s ok, it’s just a dress, it’s just a dress. You took a deep breath and opened the door. You went towards your bed to stuff your office clothes in your duffle bag and take out your heels. Your hands couldn’t stop shaking.

“Brandy you… wow,” Whiskey soft amazed voice spoke and it sent a shiver down your spine. You turned around to face him. He didn’t have his Stetson on instead he had a nice baby blue button up tucked into a pair of black dress pants. His shirt wasn’t all the way buttoned up and it accentuated his strong arms. You stared at him and you saw his sparkling eyes and his skin tan skin looking flushed.

“It’s too much right,” you muttered at his response. It was something that you would never wear.

“No Brandy, you look beautiful… I mean you always look beautiful but like… it’s not too much you look great,” he stammered out and his face turned pink. You smiled at his comment and he quickly turned to the door. “Are you ready sugar?”

You were confused as to why he wasn’t facing you but you didn’t want to question him on it.

“Yeah I just need to put on my heels,” you muttered and slipped your heels on. You grabbed your purse and started walking towards the door. “Come on cowboy, you said you wanted to go dancing,” you teased as you opened the hotel door. He didn’t respond to your comment so when you got out of the hotel room you turned around to look at him.

“You okay Jack,” you asked, concerned about him. He usually says a stupid comment in response to whatever you say but he didn’t this time.

“I’m fine darlin’,” he muttered and he walked out of the hotel room and continued to walk to the elevator. You followed after him and you nudged him. He gave you a bewildered look.

“It’s ok to be nervous… I’m always nervous at the start of a mission,” you muttered. You’ve never seen Whiskey like this so you assumed it was nerves. He smiled at you.

“It’s cute that your worryin’ about me hun but I assure you I’m fine,” he replied and wrapped his arm around your shoulder. Your skin started to heat up from his touch.

The two of you walked together out of the hotel together to the car. Like the gentleman he was, Whiskey opened the door to the car and let you in. He closed the door and opened the other door and sat down. You went into your purse and grabbed the earpiece to inform Ginger you were ready. You placed the earpiece in your right ear and waited for the familiar crackle to turn on.

“Hey, Ginger, can you hear me,” you muttered. The static turned into a voice.

“I can hear you loud and clear Brandy, you two know what to do, the bug you're supposed to place is supposed to pick up only on voices so don’t worry about the music,” Ginger responded and Whiskey huffed.

“Our only problem is if he shows up,” you watched Whiskey say while his thumb touched his lips. Were his lips soft, you wondered as you continued to stare at them. “We also need to be careful where we place those bugs,” he added while turning to you. You snapped out of your thoughts and looked at his dreamy eyes. You hummed and nodded at him, he quirked his brow. “Right… Ginger, you did check the cameras of the club,” Whiskey questioned.

“Yes I did and like it said in the report there is a VIP room, I know you guys can get in there and if not just slip a bug into the area.” Ginger responded annoyed, you knew she didn’t want to deal with all this so you didn’t bother to ask any questions. He hummed at her response. “Well I’ll let you two be, I’ll be here,” Ginger said and her voice faded away leaving you and Whiskey alone once again.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten sweetheart, but I did tell you I’d teach you how to dance,” he whispered in your left ear and your body reacted by warming up. Your mouth was dry after his comment and you saw him smirk. You bit your lip and thought to yourself about what you could say. The car pulled up to the Temptation club and you hummed.

“Let’s dance, lover boy,” you pulled at his arm and you opened the car door. You held his calloused hand in yours and skipped the line to the club. The security at the door looked at Whiskey then looked at you. You gave a fake smile and batted your eyes and he let you two in. You continued to grab his hand and you walked in together. The loud obnoxious music boomed around you and it felt like you were going to be consumed by it. Whiskey squeezed your hand that he was still holding and you looked at him with a smile. He was here with you so it will be fine.

“Let’s start placin’ the bugs, meet me here when you're finished,” he muttered and you picked it up through your earpiece as clear as day. You nodded and you headed in different directions. You tried to avoid all the people dancing around but it was frankly impossible so you were maneuvering your way through them. You were trying to find the VIP room that was stated on the report. You then found a velvet rope and another security man standing in front of the rope. Your first thought was to get into the area. You could plant better bugs in those areas. So you made your way to the security guard. You put a hand on his chest to get his attention. He looked at you then continued to look at the crowd.

“Can you let me in, hot stuff ?” You purred. The security guard refused to move. “I’m here for important business,” you added on and started to move your hand. He continued to stare at you and removed your hand from his chest. You really needed to work on your flirting skills cause you always ended up in these dry and awkward situations. It was easier to flirt with drunks than with people who were sober and understood the awkwardness of the situation. Like who the hell calls someone hot stuff? You sigh and place the bug on him and huff at him while you walk away.

“You struck out,” his voice rang out in your ear. You hummed and he giggled. “No offense sweetheart but I wouldn’t have let you in either,” his smooth voice teased

“Rude…” you muttered and continued to maneuver your way through the packed dance floor. “Like Tequila says we have our bad days and hey not everyone is into my sexy voice so I get it,” you whispered and Whiskey didn’t respond. Yikes you really shouldn’t have said the last thing. The club was already hot but you became warmer from that comment. Just go back to meet Whiskey and pretend you didn’t say that. You arrived near the entrance of the club and tried to look for Whiskey. “Hey Whisk…” you were about to call for him but then someone grabbed your shoulder. You turned around quickly and saw a tall man towering over you.

“Hey baby, you want some company,” the man said and you tensed and shook your head and removed his hand from your shoulder. “Oh come on baby, don’t be like that,” he grabbed your arm with a tight force. You were about to kick this guy and book it but Whiskey grabbed at that man's collar pulling him close.

“Don’t touch her,” he growled and the man quickly let go of your arm. You didn’t even look at the man who grabbed you instead you looked at Whiskey's face that was stricken with rage. “Understood,” he bellowed and the man nodded quickly. Whiskey let him go and the man left without looking at you.

Whiskey's face turned to you and his expression softened and changed to worry. He went swiftly to your side and softly grabbed the arm the man grabbed. He looked at the damaged skin where the man gripped at you. He looked to see if you were bleeding and you kept looking at his furrowed brows and the pout of his lips.

“I’m okay Whiskey,” you whispered and he looked at your eyes. He continued to grab your arm and his thumb stroked you softly. You grabbed his hand and laced your fingers together. “I’m okay,” you repeated and you tapped your fingers against the back of his hand. “Did you place your bug,” you asked while looking at his large hand.

“I placed it in VIP,” he muttered and you shifted your head from where you were looking at how your hands were interlocked. You gave him a look and he gave you a small smile.

“I just said I was here for Robinson and they let me in,” he grinned and your mouth was slightly open in surprise. Of course he was able to get into the room and he didn’t make a fool of himself like you did. You knew with the bugs planted Ginger would wait to connect you to any audio that you guys would be interested in looking into.

“We got some free time sweetheart, may I ask you for this dance,” he pulled the hand he was holding to his lips. They were soft just like how you thought they would be and his mustache tickled your fingers. You grinned at him and your body felt more warm than you think it’s ever been.

“Of course,” he pulled you to the dance floor and tried to shield you from others that were around you. The song's beats were consistent and you swayed to the loud booming music. Whiskey's hand moved yours to his shoulder and both his large hands moved to your waist. You moved closer because of his actions and put your other hand on his neck.

“Just follow my lead sweetheart,” Whiskey whispered in your ear and you could hear it in your other ear because of the earpiece. You made a small noise and nodded your head. His voice made your legs feel weak and you could hear your heart beating louder than the music. He started to move his hips and you did the same. You continued to sway with him and you rubbed your fingers on his neck. In response to that he moved his hands up and down your waist. It made you move slightly closer to him.

He smiled at you and started to whisper in your ear again, pulling you closer to him. You barely had three inches of room between each other. “You lyin’ to me darlin’.”

You gave him a confused look and he began to whisper again. “You said that you couldn’t dance. Well all I see right now is the hips of a dancer,” he smiled while turning you around and his hands went to your waist again. Those actions made you heat up and it made your body act on its own accord. You feel so aroused at that moment that you really didn’t care about anyone near you, all you cared about was him. You tried to find your voice to give him a response but his hands on your waist made it hard to focus. Those three inches between each other have disappeared and you felt his hips on your ass. His hands were trailing down to your hips. You felt so out of breath and you so desperately wanted more from him. You made a small noise from his large hands on your hips. You clamped your mouth shut and the seas of pleasure continued to ripple through you. You were basically grinding on him at this point and you felt something on your ass, you tried to reason with yourself and say that wasn’t what you thought it was.

“I don’t dance but…” you gasped out. You couldn’t help how you were feeling right now. You felt guilty about feeling so aroused around him right now. Especially during a mission but it just felt right to be with him.

“But what,” he muttered and you turned around again so you could see him. His pupils were dilated and the brown eyes you were so used to were barely there.

“But…” you couldn’t think, what were you trying to say. But what? You weren’t thinking you were just moving on autopilot. You continued to dance and look at him searching for an answer in his eyes. What were you trying to say? His eyes were trained on yours and you couldn’t help moving closer than you already were. Why were you doing this? You had to stop…

You needed to stop but you kept inching closer, his eyes staring to your lips. His breath was ghosting your skin and your lips were about to meet his when you heard a crackle in your ear that caused you to regain your sanity. You moved away from him and he did the same. You looked at his chest, refusing to look at his eyes. His hands returned to your waist and you shivered.

“Where is he, he’s supposed to be here by now, that fucking rat bastard,” you both heard in the earpiece.

“Calm down boss, Ian said he’ll be here in a moment,” a gruff voice responded to

“I’m going to kill that bastard when he shows up! He’s probably the one who got Joey in trouble. Joey was just going to go to Mexico to deal with some business but now this stupid fucking bastard got him a sentence worse then death,” the exasperated man ranted and stopped to drink something. “Boss man is going to personally kill that rat, Ian Montgomery,” he muttered. You furrowed your brows and stopped moving to the music. What is their business in Mexico, and why was Joey the only one who was supposed to go. Whiskey grabbed the hand that was on his neck and guided you towards a less crowded area.

“I’m sorry to say this sir but the big boss man said that Ian is in Mexico and had to cancel his meeting.” The gruff voice stated in a soft voice.

“Why the fuck is he in Mexico. Fucking ridiculous, get me my phone I need to make a few calls,” his agitated voice rang out.

“Yes Mr Robinson,” the gruff voice responded and they left the VIP room. You frowned about what you learned, you didn’t have a solid location but whatever is happening in Mexico doesn’t sound good. You could try to detain him now but if he was calling the leader all your information would disappear.

“I have everything recorded guys, I’ll get back to you guys to see if any of the other agents got a specific location in Mexico,” Ginger replied firmly and you nodded still deep in thought.

“Thank you Ginger,” you muttered and you just realized that you were still holding Whiskey's hand. Your heart sank to your stomach. Before all of that you were about to kiss him. You squeezed his hand lightly and let it go, it also seemed he was deep in thought before you let go of his hand. “Come on let’s go,” you stated and started to leave without him.

You were about to kiss him right here in this shitty club.

You danced with him and you were about to kiss him. What was wrong with you! You knew him for seven years and today of all days you were going to kiss him. Your thoughts were interrupted from Whiskey opening the car door for you. “Thank you,” you whispered and got in the car. Your mind continued to spiral as you sat in the car. You’ve always found him attractive but you never thought you’d kiss him. You’d never thought he’d dance with you. You didn’t think he’d even look at you but here you are in this awkward situation.

Oh god what if he hates you, he’s awfully quiet and it’s probably because you made him uncomfortable. Why did you keep moving on him like that! You did it because you were horny but you should’ve thought about it before doing anything. You felt so embarrassed you didn’t even want to look at him.

The car continued to drive to your hotel room and the silence in the car was suffocating. There was a thought in your head that you tried to smother. You didn’t want to listen to anything that your mind supplied. So you opted to stare at the window and watch the Chicago skyline. It didn’t calm you the way you wanted it to but it made you not look at Whiskey. Looking at Whiskey made you think and you really didn’t want to think.

The car stopped at your hotel and both of you walked out. The silence continued as you arrived in the room you were sharing that night. You went to your bed and grabbed your bag. You felt his eyes on you and your breath started to stutter. You grabbed your sleep clothes and turned to look at him.

“Do you need to use the bathroom,” you whispered and your voice cracked. His stare was so soft and nothing compared to how it looked in the club. He shook his head and you quickly went to the bathroom with your things. When you locked the door you tried to calm down. Yes you tried to kiss him but it was just because you guys were dancing. It didn’t mean you liked him because you didn’t.

He’s your coworker and friend nothing more. You didn’t like Whiskey. You didn’t like Jack Daniels. You just think he’s attractive and he cares so much about others that it hurts to see. He’s a great agent and has always been kind to you even when you think you didn’t deserve it. He makes you feel amazing and that feeling in your stomach any time you think of him makes you explode.

The feelings that your body had were just feelings; it didn’t mean that you liked him. He was attractive but you didn’t like him like that. Images of being in a relationship flooded your mind and you took a deep breath and you started to pick at your fingers.

Did-did you like Jack? A voice questioned you in the back of your mind and you stayed frozen in the hotel bathroom.

Did you like Jack?

Taglist: @imnotinlove-thisisnotyoursong @shadowolf993 @salome-c

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x female reader #kingsman the golden circle #take a chance on me #slow burn #my fanfiction

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legends-live-in-memories · 4 years ago

Text

“How Did All This Happen?”- A Memoire by one Marinette Dupain-Cheng 5

hi. im back. after slightly longer than usual (my usual was like everyday, not happening again) i have returned. :) this update is also slightly longer than usual too but who complains about that?

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 6

without further ado

Did Marinette Miss Her Own Wedding? I

Constantine was having a horrible time, as far as Marinette could tell. His phone kept ringing, which he was pointedly ignoring, and he looked more and more frustrated as he skimmed through one of his many grimoires. He was also very sober. Maybe that had something to do with it.

After Marinette’s little excursion out with Plagg the previous night, Constantine joined her and her grandfather and explained the lore behind the Renlings and what they were capable of. Marinette was already over it. It’s one thing to be magical guardians of one set magical gods, but animal spirits that transform the wielder into the respective animal is borderline ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous. And Constantine wants her to find them. Why not the Justice League? Or their team of proteges? Well, apparently, Constantine has a healthy distrust of the Justice League and magic they are unfamiliar with. Something about a mystical house no longer existing because somebody was suspicious. They fucked around and found out, as Plagg so eloquently put it. She didn’t know how she felt about aiding Constantine in his paranoia.

Anyways, Marinette was now Constantine’s go-to whenever he wanted to keep things away from the JL. She would have said no like a reasonable person, but she was at least getting more magical training and could actually use some of the spells in the Miraculous grimoire. Speaking of which, the grimoire that Constantine was hunching over was supposed to help them in finding the other Prodigiouses. The Kwamis were surprisingly unhelpful as they have never heard of the Prodigiouses or Renlings.

After what could have been hours of grueling translating and spellwork, Constantine had finally figured out the location of the eight total Renlings and what their prodigiouses looked like. While Marinette and Master Fu began scheming appropriate retrieval plans, Constantine went to answer his many missed calls.

“What?!” Well that sounded concerning. Constantine looked ready to pull his hair out from scalp with tweezers. Whatever news he just received must have been awful for him to lose his composure like this. Good.

“You lot are planning to do what now?” Oh, was this JL business? Should Marinette be listening to this, albeit one-sided, conversation?

“And why do you all need to do this?”

“Don’t give me that attitude. I’m working on something important.”

“Yes it is important, Zatanna. Please don’t let that group of League Juniors do this.”

“You even got me saying ‘please.’ No I can not tell you why”

“Well what do you mean you can’t trust me?!” This was starting to sound serious. The popcorn that Wayzz brought was also making this ten times more entertaining.

“Zatanna-” Oh he got cut off. Serves him right.

“Fine, be that way.” Constantine forcefully ended the call and was pouting like a child.

Marinette didn’t know if she should ask anything but she had the feeling it was related to the prodigiouses and tracking them. Were the League getting involved? It would explain his desperation to not have them interfere.

“I can’t believe them.” Looks like Marinette didn’t have to make the decision after all. He was going to rant about it.

“What can’t you believe, Constantine?” Her grandfather appeared equally as curious.

“The Team are going to try and track down the prodigiouses. Luckily, they only think there are five rather than eight.” He paused to run his hands through his already disheveled hair. “I don’t know which five they’re tracking. Also, they probably know you have the Snake’s Fang.”

“Pardon?” Marinette doesn’t know what she would do if she was on the Justice League’s most wanted.

“Zatanna didn’t outright say it, but Kobra probably told them it was taken from him. That’s probably how they knew about the others too. Thanks for that.”

“First of all, I didn’t even know what these things were so don’t blame me. Second of all, this could have all been avoided if you just told them!” Marinette did not appreciate the blame being put on her for the League’s involvement. She wasn’t done ripping Constantine a new one yet either. “Especially considering the fact that you knew that their secondary team had a mission there. UN rules or not. But no! You wanted to keep all your magical secrets to yourself. So don’t blame me for the consequences of your own actions.” She was fuming at this point, probably overreacting, but she was tired of cleaning up after people who won’t so much as thank her.

The ensuing silence was deafening and eyes that weren’t on Marinette were on Constantine. He looked rather surprised at Marinette’s show of spine, probably forgetting that she was born and raised in the League of Shadows. He never will again if he keeps pushing his luck.

Fu cleared his throat, probably clogged from the awkward tension. “Well, now that that’s all dealt with, do you know what your next move is Constantine? Do we actively hinder the League for the sake of your own peace of mind or do you talk to them and work collaboratively with them?”

Constantine, who was still doing his best fish impersonation since Marinette—no, Mei Fu—dragged him for everything he’s worth, tried to string together an answer.

“I still think it’s best we don’t involve the Justice League with this. We should try to intervene and cut off their attempts of retrieving the prodigiouses.” He sounded like a child trying to convince their parents that they didn’t break the expensive vase. Very pitiful and very unconvincing.

“Fine.” Pardon? Did her grandfather just agree? “We’ll help you keep the prodigiouses and the Renlings away from the Justice League.” Wow. Okay. So he’s just agreeing with him. Three guesses as to who will actually be the one to retrieve them. Wonderful.

Groaning with the weight of a thousand suns, Marinette also voiced her consent. The Kwamis were silent throughout this, not expressing their opinions. Except for Trixx, who had periodically rolled his eyes so hard Marinette would have been concerned he had popped a few blood vessels, if he had any.

They spent the rest of the week planning and convincing her parents that she wasn’t in danger with her grandfather. They agreed that Marinette would retrieve the Dragon’s Claw first. Despite Brazil being closer, the Monkey’s tail would be harder to find in the dense forestry so they didn’t want to waste time on an extended search until much later.

If you were to ask Marinette, the week was not enough to prepare. She made arrangements to stay with the Tsurugi family and convinced Kagami to help her in the mission. Her mother would be providing them with non-miraculous weapons as a back-up. Lady Tomoe was too understanding of her daughter being a magic-wielding superhero in Marinette’s opinion. Not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth, Marinette did not make any comments about the very impressive artillery of weapons. She chose a pair of double broadswords while Kagami stuck to a katana. Kagami also had the Dragon and the Ladybug prepared while Marinette stuck to the Tiger and Horse. Plagg didn’t want to miss out on the action and planned to tag along again. Wayzz made an off-handed comment about Plagg’s sixth sense for chaos and his recent desire to accompany Marinette on these missions. Overthinking whatever that was supposed to mean had cost Marinette six hours of sleep.

While everything had been physically prepared, Marinette had yet to cope with the whole ‘going behind the backs of the Justice League because Constantine was paranoid’ thing. But this will not be the worst thing she has done. She also has the godsend, Kagami, to pull her out of any impending mental spirals. Now all that’s left is to actually get the Dragon’s Claw.

According to Constantine, the Dragon’s Claw was located inside the dojo of a martial arts master, O Sensei. Kagami, to be referred to as Tonbo, meaning Dragonfly, was to guard the perimeter for any individuals who could get in the way, while Marinette, codenamed Tigerlily with this combination of miraculouses, was to find the Dragon’s Claw, camouflaged by the tiger miraculous, and teleport them both back out. It was simple enough in planning and should be simple enough in execution. Even if the sensei of the dojo was to be made aware of their presence, They were expecting the element of surprise to give them an advantage. You know, outside of Marinette’s assassin training. So, yeah the plan was simple.

Except for the part where a group of the young Justice League heroes were already there negotiating with whom she assumed was O sensei. She recognized Kid Flash, Robin and Nightwing. The two women with them were unfamiliar. She also found the Dragon’s Claw in the sensei’s hand. She was positioned on a tree branch looking into a window in the room. If she timed this right, she could grab the necklace and portal out of the room to Tonbo and then portal back to the Tsurugi residence. That plan carries the risk of being seen but the pay-off should be worth it.

Poised to leap from the branch, Tigerlily steadied her breathing and prepared to call on the Horse’s Voyage. Still camouflaged, she jumped through the window and summoned the portal, about to grab for the necklace. Except she grabbed nothing and was suspended in the air.

Who she knew now was Ms. Martian was using her telekinetic abilities to suspend her. Kid Flash sped his way over and quickly tied her, the contact breaking the camouflage charm. They must have figured she would appear at one of the locations eventually and planned a contingency plan for her appearance. The martian hasn’t read her mind yet, so maybe they thought she was non-hostile. That thought wouldn’t last long however as Tonbo emerged from the portal and, using the Flame Dragon, took down Ms. Martian. Tigerlily used the distraction to undo the bindings and get in a fighting stance. Nightwing and Robin were protecting O sensei while Kid Flash and the other woman charged at the two.

Kid Flash was circling the two faster and tighter, corralling them together. Tigerlily drew for her broadswords and slashed the old floor boards. Kicking them in Kid Flash’s path, she knocked him off balance and thumped him the back of the head with the butt of her blade, knocking him down. Tonbo called for her Storm Dragon to subdue her opponent, who was also knocked down, then strung up both with the Ladybug yoyo. Tigerlily began a steady approach to the two batboys. She was ready to attack first but Nightwing got the upper hand. He drew his escrima sticks and swiped for Tigerlily’s head. She blocked with one sword and jump kicked to his chest, missing him entirely as he had crouched to sweep her legs from underneath her. Rolling out of the fall, Tigerlily slashed for his rising back but he intercepted with his other stick. He turned to face her and barrelled his full strength into her. They crashed into the nearby wall and at a standstill.

Tonbo was caught in a clash of katanas with Robin, neither side giving way to the other. If Tigerlily was more conscious of their fight than her own, she would have noticed familiar fighting techniques that were ingrained in her since birth. Alas, her attention was on the blue bird in front of her. Using his force that kept her against the wall, She double kicked him in the chest, forcing him away. Robin and Tonbo had broken away from each other and Tonbo aimed to stab Nightwing in the leg. Nonfatally of course, she wasn’t an ex-assassin as far as Tigerlily knew. Right?

Anyways, her attack switched up the fight as now Tigerlily tried to dodge under Robin's incoming blade. Sliding on her knees, she reached to where O sensei was situated with the Dragon’s Claw. Frustrated with the night’s turn of events and forgetting all sense of pleasantries, Tigerlily tried to grab for the necklace. The business end of a katana was swiftly placed under her jaw. One wrong move meant game over.

“What do you want with the Dragon’s Claw?” Robin sounded like he was holding back from saying something.

“An acquaintance of mine wishes for you all to not have it. I am merely doing him a favor, Tweety Bird.” Where did that nickname come from? She must have been internally catastrophizing more than she thought she was if she was actually trying to flirt her way out of this. Tonbo’s exasperation was made loud and clear with that answering sigh.

“Flattery gets you nowhere, Mei.” Robin’s arm twitched at that.

“Wait, you know her?” “You know him?” Nightwing’s and Tonbo’s voices overlapped but Tigerlily registered none of it as her ears were ringing with spiked emotions she thought she had buried years ago. Only a few people knew her by that name. Kagami, Chloe, Luka and Adrien were the only people outside of the League of Shadows who knew her by that name. Even then, there was only one person her age with the Shadows who knew her. But it couldn’t be him. He was supposed to be dead. There was no way in hell that the Boy Wonder holding a katana to her throat was—

“Damian?!”

Taglist:

@deathwishy @neakco @virtualreading @f-rget-lt @your-resident-chicken-nugget @nathleigh @toodaloo-kangaroo @irontimetravelflower @trippingovermyfeet @t1dwarrior-of-earth @tip-tap-tired @fidget-eep @thenillabean @officiallydarkgeek @mystery-5-5 @moonlightstar64 @just-an-observer-ignore-me @nightstarblue @certainmuffinbagelcalzone @fan-written @jjmjjktth @vixen-uchiha @zorua-adorable @nnon-it-up

#maribat #mlb x dc #daminette #badass!marinette dupain cheng #maridami #hdath #if you asked to be on the taglist but arent there let me know #hehehehe #i forgot to proofread oops #no beta we die like jason

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gagmebucky · 3 years ago

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Hi, I just really wanted to rant about something and I don’t really want to talk about it with anyone I know irl so…

My dad is just a normal guy in every sense of the word, good and bad. One thing that’s bothered me for a while now is how I recognized he talks to my mom and while it’s not degrading, it’s just entitled and annoying.

Since my brother and I were born, she quit her job to take care of us so he’s been the one primarily earning money. This arrangement hasn’t put our family in any type of financial jeopardy at all, we live in a nice house in a nice area and his job combined with the money he makes from his previous service in the military makes him around 150k a year. One thing I’d like to note is that he works a normal 8 to 5 job. But for a year or so the majority of his company has switched to a12 hours day so they get a three day weekend every week.

Now I know you may be wondering what money has to do with any of this and I promise that I’ll get to that part I’m just really angry and need to get this all off of my chest.

Anyways, my mom started working again 2-3 years ago at his request and now she works AND does all the stereotypical motherly things (cooks dinner, cleans, any other odd jobs that need to be done around the house)

All the while my mom has been doing this, my dad does his 12 hour days (including lunch in those 12 hours) and he’s allowed to take 10 minute breaks and most often times watch tv in the background while he’s working (he’s been working from home since COVID and doesn’t have any plans to go back since his job is mostly on the computer anyways other than a couple in-person meetings a month)

After my dad is done with work, he basically retires for the night and just watches tv while waiting for mom to serve him whatever food or leftovers she’s put on a plate for him.

Now, I get to the current issue.

My mom doesn’t ask for much or even anything from him in terms of helping her. But there are just some things that make me angry when he says them.

In the past couple of weeks for pretty much the 1st consistent time since March, my dad started walking and exercising again which he does outside or in the garage. My father has naturally oily skin, and even if he didn’t, he is exercising so his skin will be sticky and sweaty! RIGHT!?!?!

However when my mom brought it up a couple days ago she didn’t even say what we both were thinking which was YOU STINK AND ARE THEREFORE MAKING THE HOUSE STINK!!!

Instead, she politely asked if he would take a shower since he worked out and specificied that she was telling him this out of love without even mentioning him stinking up the house or more specifically the kitchen that he was in.

Instead of understanding that exercise makes you sweat and sweat makes you smell, he snarkelly shot back, that he had something to tell her out of love too. And although he trailed off with a cocky laugh, the context of the situation and his numerous past suggestions obviously implied that he was talking about my mom’s weight.

I would like to specify that my mother is not obese or unhealthy, in fact she eats considerably less junk food than he does. And even if she was, it did not prompt my dad making that “joke”.

Now fast forward a few minutes, my mom and I left to go grocery shopping for the food she would make for him without him even having to lift a finger. She ranted to me that him needing to take a shower had nothing to do with her weight. From what she was saying I could tell that she wasn’t that angry about what he said about her weight, but more so about him deflecting the conversation from his smellyness to her (which is something he does often so he doesn’t look like the “bad guy”)

Now to today, my father once again “joked” with my mom when asked if he would honestly like to help her blow dry her hair (I say honestly because she wanted his honest opinion on whether he would like to do it or not, and it was something she never really needs help with but she wanted to spend time with him) he said that he needs to consult the “guy’s handbook” to figure out if that was a trick question. (My father is 55 years old and they’ve been married for 30 something years)

I’m sure there’s a psychological reason why I got so angry at him but I’m not going to settle that I was once again tired that he treated my mom like crap despite her doing everything for him. So I told him that my mom was being serious and it wasn’t a trick question.

I (kinda) knew that he knew this, and was trying to make a joke. But explaining it was my version of the whole “I don’t understand your ‘joke’ please explain it to me” in an attempt to discourage him from making it again.

But in an event that I would have seen coming if I wasn’t so angry, it didn’t work and he instead got mad at me. Recognizing that I could have handled the situation better, I just apologized however I was crying because of his rant that I wasn’t a part of the conversation and shouldn’t have stepped in . (I normally wouldn’t be so sensitive but for some reason it’s like everytime I have a family argument it’s that time of the month so I’m emotionally sensitive)

I retreated back into my room and apparently I wasn’t crying as quietly as I thought I was because be he then knocked on my door, then demanded that I come out and “spend time with him” so he could know what was wrong.

Now, I thought this was code for I’m going to apologize, but no… he literally didn’t understand that his words hurt my feelings and demanded that I tell him what was “really” wrong as if him yelling at me wasn’t a good enough reason to be crying.

After curtly telling him what was wrong in so many words as to not offend him further. He dryly apologized before defending himself and saying that it wasn’t his fault that I got angry and he was just trying to make a joke that he insisted would apparently be funny if I didn’t cut in. Then he dryly promised that he would try to treat my mother nicer and not make as many “jokes” because he can tell how much it affects me.

There is probably more to the story that I forgot to leave out. And I kinda want to know if I’m in the wrong in the situation or not. And reading back over this i am definitely biased but if you can manage to remove the emotion from my words then those are honestly the facts about what happened.

I recognize that I am selfish, he actually told me that one, but looking back over my life I know that I have been rude when “defending” my mom. I put it in quotations because my mom doesn’t need defending and she is more than capable to speaking up when there’s a big problem.

But I just get annoyed at people when they rudely deny her some of the smaller things she requests like help blow drying her hair and things she won’t insist on them helping on. I’d understand if kindly said no thanks or I can’t do it right now, but he just had to joke about it and be curt in his response for no reason.

All in all I’m just so angry that it is impossible for him to acknowledge what he did wrong without defending that actions that make someone sad or angry in the first place.

But anyways, I am extremely sorry for the rant and writing so much and I honestly don’t blame you if you didn’t even read all of this. I just wanted to tell someone and I love how your blog is so open and judgement free and you don’t act like you have all the answers of what is right or wrong but you just give your opinion and help when you can. Thanks so much for listening (reading, really) and I appreciate you so much!

baby, you didn’t do ANYTHING wrong. you are the opposite of selfish — your dad was being a fucking dick to your mom and you stood up for her. you had every right to be angry, and if i were you, i would’ve said some low blow, disrespectful, kick-me-out-of-the-house ass shit.

i think (respectfully) you’re over analyzing yourself to find fault in yourself when it isn’t really there in my opinion. he’s complaining that you’re rude when he was the rude one and you literally just defending your mom. being rude is like “you stinky piece of shit, im gonna fucking drown you in bleach and lets see you make another fuckin comment BITCH”

but you did not do that therefore his argument is invalid. i can only say so much because it’s you in the thick of it but it definitely seems like your dad’s arrogant and entitled personality is so overbearing that it makes you be harder on yourself than you should be. i think, legally, you should get hit him once with a bat, non lethally of course (unless….. haha…?). i just know personally dealing with that personality type can create a LOT of contained anger.

anyway, im rly sorry you have to deal w him. i feel like you have a lot of weight on your shoulders and you seem so sweet and nice and you do not deserve to have to give your energy to that :(

#i would’ve said some vile things i wouldve said things that would make him disown me #i would poured a little rat posion in his drink just enough to make him sick not to like kill yknow #if it isn’t clear I… I have a lot of violent feelings and am a little… insane #ILU AND IM SORRY U HAD TO DEAL W THAT #q answers

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batfamspews · 3 years ago

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Romance tropes are good and all, but you know what relationship trope is real juicy? Mentor/student. Now before you roll your eyes and brush me off, I’m not talking about the run-of-the-mill Ben Kanobi and Luke Skywalker mentor/student relationship where a wise old man teaches a curious youngster a skill set that makes them priceless. While the student might be frustrated with or appreciative to the mentor, the emotional connection there is pretty shallow. When the mentor dies we shrug it off, the student cries a little bit, everyone forgets them and there’s next to no emotional impact.

No, I’m talking about the relationship between a rebellious, rude teenager deemed worthless by society. Im talking about a straight rod, middle aged mentor with a religious zeal for honor and who has probably never broken a single rule in their life (Bonus points if they had a legalistic, obedience centered job such as a police officer or military veteran). Hear me out here.

Student is a messed up, broken kid either lacking authority or with crappy parental figures that don’t care about them. They’re a rebel and a troublemaker by choice and whether they’re proud of it or not they’re not going to change any time soon. Finally society gets to a point where they’re not going to tolerate student’s crap any longer and are ready to make an example out of them. That’s where mentor comes in. The clean-cut mentor sees the world as a system of values where everything is either right or wrong and there are no gray areas. They are not only the most respected person in society but one of the most adored. In other words, they are the exact opposite of student. When student faces harsh charges for their actions, mentor takes pity on them, resolving that if only someone had taught the teenager the difference between right and wrong they would be a loyal, upstanding citizen. Suddenly mentor is enlightened. What if THEY were the one to take student under their wing and change the course of their life? What a noble cause! Confident in their ability as a teacher, mentor offers to take student under their care and make it their personal responsibility to indoctrinate them. Student is reluctant to accept this because it means losing all of their previous freedom to an unsuspecting, ignorant mentor, but they have no choice. Student knows one thing for sure though. Mentor is going to regret this decision every moment they’re together.

Fast forward and nothing is going according mentor’s plan at all. Student is going out of their way to cause trouble and be disrespectful, and when mentor tries to teach them anything they blatantly ignore them, making it very clear that they don’t care. Mentor slowly begins to realize that they don’t know the first thing about raising children and have never once in their whole life felt so discouraged and clueless. The pressure builds up, until finally after a yelling argument with the kid the mentor breaks and tells them they wish they had never tried to help the student in in the first place. However, what hurts mentor the most is student’s response. “Figures. Nobody’s ever wanted me. I wouldn’t expect you to either.” The matter-of-fact apathy in student’s demeanor kills the mentor. They excuse themselves.

This confirms to student that they aren’t wanted and though they’re not surprised or even disappointed, for some reason their heart feels heavy and they decide to make things easy on the mentor. Later on that night, mentor is summoned. Student had gone behind their back and committed a heinous crime. To the rest of the community the solution is clear. They pat the mentor on the back and assure them that they did everything they could, that just by trying to redeem the lost soul they had proven to be one of the most heroic members of society. However, student has proven themselves impossible to correct and therefore must be dealt with rashly (e.g. they could be hanged for their crimes, sent to a juvenile prison, an asylum, a slave in the coal mines, just whatever works best for the fictional universe they’re in). What it all boils down to is that mentor doesn’t just have the right to bring the student to justice, but they should. It’s not just the fair choice, but it’s the wise, honorable, right choice. It’s the perfect situation for them. Give up the student that’s caused them nothing but pain and be hailed a hero.

They can’t do it. For the first time in their life, mentor is tempted to go against their better judgement, their honor and the wise counsel of their peers and make an emotional decision. Student was wrong when they said that nobody wanted them. Mentor wants them, though they can’t quite explain why.

Mentor is told they’re making a mistake, that their choice is foolish, that they’re just prolonging students overdue judgement, but they don’t care. They have made their decision. Mentor will recompense for student’s actions and though it will cost them both their honor and their physical possessions, they will take student back as their own and won’t give up trying to get through to them. Student is in shock. They had never dreamed that someone would sacrifice so much for a person who didn’t deserve it- specifically them. For the first time in their life they felt wanted. Protected. Heck, even loved.

Student doesn’t change over night, but they’re clearly more respectful towards mentor, more enamored by them and more receptive of their teaching. They no longer see mentor as their slaveholder, but as their protector and friend. Mentor doesn’t go easy on them and student does not hesitate to complain about the workload, but they begin to work with a new zeal because now they have a motive to work. They want to make mentor proud. For the first time they realize they’re desperately starved for mentor’s approval, so they work hard , begin to copy their habits, even go out of their way to do things without being asked. They never talk about their feelings, but they want to be close to mentor. For the first time they know what it feels like to be loved, and they want to return that love in every way possible.

Mentor has no idea what possessed student to change, but nothing in the world could have made them happier. They begin to recognize the student’s longing for approval and it occurs to them how much they want to pay it forth. Mentor knows what it’s like to do great things and be praised for their deeds, but they have never been more proud of anything than the scruffy little public nuisance that lived in their house. Student wasn’t just their responsibility, they became their joy. They were proud enough to call them their son/daughter.

Of course student doesn’t become perfect overnight. Clearly they revert to what they know and cause trouble multiple other times. However, the disappointment master expresses to them when they’re caught is enough to make them realize that they’re former way of living is no longer appealing to them. They value their mentor’s opinion too much and nothing hurts more than their disapproval.

This is just a sample of a mentor student relationship that could work in a variety of different storylines. It doesn’t need to be the main focus of the story (i.e. if the theme is action and adventure, then the student and mentor might be forced to go on a dangerous expedition, or the student might grow up and leave the mentor, or either the student or mentor is taken and the other has to go save them, something like that). What’s great about this relationship trope is that it creates a solid base for an impactful story. It might explain where the student gets their ideals, why they’re so strongly committed to their mission, or why the mentor is willing to give up everything they hold true to in order to save one specific person. If done correctly, imagine how painful it would be to the readers if either the mentor or student had to sacrifice themselves for the other. Imagine the arguments. Imagine them crying because they’re sick with worry for the other one.

The thing that sets this relationship apart from the Obi Wan and Luke mentor/student trope is the focus is on the relationship and not either person’s abilities or personal value. Both the mentor and student have to give up aspects of themselves, but they end up with something they value much more. It’s what’s special about both characters. I believe the lack of this relational foundation in most movies and books is why viewers lack interest in the main character’s goal when they’re looking for someone they care about. If the relationship is the backbone of the character’s motives, then it needs to be the backbone of the audience’s reason to cheer the character on.

What sets this apart from romance tropes (other than romance tropes being ridiculously overused) is that this is a relationship trope almost everyone can relate to. Not everybody has fallen in love, but everyone has had an authority figure in their life and many have had authority over someone else. The audience can relate to the characters, and the relationship becomes more real to them. And while there is absolutely nothing wrong with a romance trope when it’s DONE RIGHT, in my personal opinion, a well executed mentor/student trope tops all else. Or maybe I’m just a sucker for middle aged, honor-centered, FLAWED military veterans and rebel teen nuisances becoming each other’s everything. You can judge for yourself.

#story #writing #mentorstudent #mentor #student #relationship tropes #relationship #fictional characters #character design #tropes #action and adventure #parent child relationship #favorite tropes

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years ago

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When Our Hands Next Meet

Series summary: Soulmates are given memories of their past lives when their hands touch. For Virgil and Logan, each memory is happier than the last.

This series was created for @analogicalweek and made in collaboration with the lovely @birdsongisland! Please go look at their beautifully detailed piece they made for this work and support them with reblogs so it can be seen!

Credit to birdsongisland for beta reading this and everything else this past week! One last thank you as this wouldn’t have been as polished without you ^-^

Chapter 7: I Remember

Chapter Summary: In a nostalgic museum of their own creation, Virgil feels as content as he ever has living out lifetime after lifetime with Logan.

Day 5 Prompt: Free Day

Warnings: none. If there are any please let me know!

WC: 1787

AO3 link

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @logans-library @im-an-anxious-wreck @edupunkn00b

“Which one did you like chickens in?”

Logan poked his head out of the kitchen window while being sure to hold the dish he was drying well away from the sill. “Chickens?”

“You liked chickens in one of our lives for some reason.” Virgil didn’t look up as his tongue poked out of his mouth in concentration- something that never failed to make Logan smile since according to him Virgil did that in every life. Blowing away the dust from the mistake he had sanded away he grabbed up the carving tool and started again, holding the figurine a little too close to his face to technically be safe but he was far past the point of caring. He held his breath as he dragged a smooth line across the dark stained surface. It was perfect. All he needed to do was drag it the other way and-

Groaning in frustration he threw his head back and squeezed his eyes shut, trying his best not to cry over something so stupid. It was a chicken- and a wooden one at that- no more deserving of tears than a child’s block tower being knocked over. But as the slight tremor in his hands continued to betray him as the years went by he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of frustration. There were so many things he wanted to do and create and as their lives went by it became harder and harder to keep up with it all; thankfully he was stubborn enough that it never kept him from trying.

Opening his eyes as a cool breeze swept past him he couldn’t help but smile at the early morning sky, full of the deep purples and blues that they had both favored since their souls first formed. Cool and calm and deep the colors blended together with a soft brilliance he admired every time he reached for the soulbond he and Logan shared. He hardly knew how to describe the way Logan filled his life to the brim with a happiness that made him feel safely rooted to the ground and flung him headlong into the clouds at the same time. A kind of breaking open of the chest while still feeling as if everything was securely nestled in their proper places. He supposed the way the colors swirled endlessly between the stars- brilliant galaxies forming and reshaping in picturesque moments that would be gone in an instant- maybe that came pretty close.

Grinning to himself he carefully gathered up his tools and his current work in progress, nudging the door open with his foot and stepping into the warm comfort of the living room. They had spent an entire lifetime making it their own, as they so often did when they finally found each other again. Often there wasn’t a day wasted when they became whole again to pick up right where they had left off in their previous life, collecting an eternity’s worth of memorabilia that no one could ever hope to understand but them. Setting down his armload on a side table he eased himself into a rocking chair situated by the window, the gentle movements a pleasant stim as he listened to Logan move around in the kitchen.

He leaned his head back slowly to rest on the back of the chair, staring up at the dark stained bookshelves overflowing with all manor of things they had made or collected in the decades they had been together. The old but thankfully sturdy wood bowed under the weight of books either so old they were bound with leather and cracked at the seams or so new the pages were still visibly crisp from the printing press. There was one in particular bound tightly in soft brown leather with a bright green gem stuck in the center of it that neither of them had ever opened but had found and added to their collection nonetheless. Whatever it was, it fit the aesthetic so neither of them could complain.

Tilting his head to the side he watched as Logan bustled around the kitchen getting their morning dose of coffee set up, refracted light from various forms of open geodes glittering around him and making his glow in the room. They had become veritable hoarders in this lifetime, though Virgil suspected they always did, collecting everything from crystals that matched their colors perfectly to pond skipping rocks that had felt too perfect in their hands to ever give up to the water. Their vast collection of seashells littered nearly every surface as well with a suncatcher made from them hanging in the large window overlooking their yard. He nearly laughed as he caught sight of it, a wooden flute he had carved hanging with it as well reminiscent of Logan’s hippie phase he had yet to let him live down. He had justified it by saying it was just another thing to remember their time together with, but mostly he just loved the playful eye roll he would get every time Logn caught sight of it.

Of course the better caving he had made for him was on the shelf behind him, nearly life size wooden ice skates that Virgil had made with as much care poured over them as he could muster. He remembered making and presenting them to his best friend after one of his competitions- they’re fingers brushing and a thousand and one memories cementing their souls together once again. Since then their house had slowly filled with blocks of wood molded to the memories they gained of an eternity spent together. Several small blocks were shoved in the spaces they could fit, depicting all the constellations Logan had told him about when they would go out in a field or lay on the roof of one of their houses and talk the night away. There were so many animal figurines they could likely make a replica of a zoo- if of course that zoo featured mostly horses, cats and various other farm animals they swapped stories of when a memory struck them. He already knew where he was going to fit the chicken, he just needed his hands to cooperate long enough to get the feathers right.

Looking back down he scowled at the stubborn piece of wood for having the audacity to not simply shape itself the way he envisioned. Chickens, as it turned out, were hard enough to get right in the first place, what with Logan seeing them being plump fluffy things meant to be pet and cuddled. Virgil, on the other hand, saw nothing but mini dinosaurs that had to be smaller just to spite him with their sharp beaks being ankle height. He had seen what the tiny terrors could do with their beaks and talons, beady eyes zeroing in on a target and having little to no regard for what it was, so long as it reacted to being chased and pecked at. But Logan had loved them and still held them in fond regard even if he no longer worked on a farm, so Virgil had wanted to solidify the past life with his tools just as he did all the others. He’dthank his hands for not allowing him to finish it if he wasn’t so sure it would make Logan’s face brighten with the smile Virgil lived and breathed to see.

His chin was taken gently and tilted so that he was looking at his husband, that smile Virgil had fallen for time and time again gracing his lips as he ironically tucked a sprig of forget-me-nots behind his ear. Their house was full of them, dried and paired with lavender and tucked into nearly every feasible space they could. The dusty scent of their favorite flowers mixed with the wide variety of candles strewn about on spare surfaces, a collection of scents they had discovered reminded them of different places and times spent together. A gentle flick at his bottom lip returned him to the present, the smile now a smirk as Logan tapped his nose.

“I cannot fathom why you are attempting to carve a chicken if you despise them enough to nearly combust a replica with a glare.”

“You like chickens and I like you. So you’re getting a chicken.” Virgil rolled his eyes at the teasing, clenching his hands into fists in his lap. “I just need my useless hands to cooperate with me or I would have had it done ages ago. I can never keep up with everything I’ve done in the past.”

Virgil huffed and smiled ruefully up at the other who looked to be considering something. Before he could ask him for his thoughts however he was pulled carefully to his feet, his rough hands held tightly in dry slender fingers. Rubbing his thumbs over the back of them Logan brought one of his hands to his lips to place a gentle kiss to his knuckles, doing the same to the other even as Virgil blushed profusely and was pulled into a soft embrace.

“I love and appreciate your talents and passion, making our memories real to remind us of the happiness we shared in the past.” Logan’s breath tickled his ear as he rested his chin on his shoulder, Virgil burying his face in the crook of his neck to hide his ever deepening blush. “I love your hands as they are, whether you find them useful or not. They’re there for me to hold and kiss and that’s use enough for me.”

“Logan-”

“You’ve made so many things that we’ve loved unconditionally throughout our lives. But it was never about our past or future, it’s just us.” Logan moved away to place his hands on his cheeks instead, steady gaze radiating warmth and comfort. “I love you. I always have and I always will- and I certainly don’t need you carving a quote ‘diet dinosaur’ to know that you feel the same.”

Virgil snorted and leaned forward to rest his forehead on Logan’s, simply taking in the quiet as they stood in each other’s embrace. To love and be loved by someone across multiple lifetimes was something he cherished above everything else, the lines of fate tracing forwards and backwards to weave them together again and again. He realized as he stood there, surrounded by a nostalgic museum meant only for them and lit with the soft glow of the early morning sun warming them further, that there truly was no one else for him. He leaned against soulmate and smiled, thinking through everything that had happened in the past and everything that would happen in the future, he had Logan.

And that was enough.

#false writes #analogicalweek #analogical week #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #fluff #domestic fluff #collab #collaboration

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thr-333 · 4 years ago

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Mismatch- Part 22

Bio Dad Bruce Wayne Month

Hating LIla is apparently a family trait

First< Previous > Next

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“Uh I hate this,” Chloe picks at her uniform like it's a disgusting growth.

“I think you look as nice as you always do,” Marion says cheerfully, turning around on his seat to look back at her and Kagami.

“Marion that is by far the worst you have ever insulted me,”

“It was a complement-” Marion doges her whack.

“Marinette! Hit your brother for me,” Chloe demands, standing up to try and reach him.

“It’s more gratifying if you do it yourself, trust me,” Marinette flicks through her phone, not bothering to look up, “I can pin your uniform to look more flattering if you like,”

“Nette you are the best!” Chloe hugs her from behind, awkward to be sure with the seat and all, yep that's the only reason, not Kagami's death glare that can be felt through the seat.

“Oh Marinette you can also pin mine,” Lila asks, as sweetly as acid, “Or weren't you going to offer the rest of the class?”

“No actually Lila she wasn't,” Marion sneers, ignoring Marinette trying to pull him back into the seat, “As I’ve made it quite clear none of you are our friends, so she isn’t obligated to do anything for you,”

“That’s so mean,” Lila sniffles, everyone is too busy feeling guilty to comfort her.

“Weren't you friends with MDC Lila?” Marion asks as sweetly as acid, “Why not try asking them?"

With that Marion turns back to his seat and starts scrolling through his phone, ignoring Lila's attempts at guilting. He gets a notification from Marinette.

I can speak for myself

U can nicely tell them no- I can tell them to fck off

That wasn't very nice

Im done with nice

Whats wrong?

Marion looks up seeing Marinette looking over him concerned, he sighs and texts back.

Nervous

Dont worry Bruce hasn't told them yet

Its going to be awkward

We’ll get through it- Pound it?

Marion looks back up, Marinette is smiling at him holding out her hand.

“Pound it,”

They pull up to the school, the grandiose of Wayne academy is nothing to sneeze at. Brick buildings, iron work, Marion has to force Marinette to put her sketchbook away. They are escorted around the campus by a student. They’ll be split up and put into a range of different classes to make the best out of their week there.

“3 o’clock,” Marinette bumps into him, Marion lets his gaze slide over, spotting Damian.

“Wasn't Lila saying on the way over here that she was great friends with him?”

“Mari don't,” Marinette hisses, tugging at his sleeve, “It’s weird enough without pulling him in to our grudge match,”

“Nothing bonds siblings more than a mutual hatred of Lila, exhibit A,” He points back and forth between them, “I’m going to do it,”

“Don't you dare-”

“Hey Damian!” Marion shouts, waving his hand for the entire hallway to turn and stare.

Damian turns around with a scowl, hardly lessening when he spots them.

“Marion, just what do you think you’re doing,” Kagami scolds, as Damian stalks over.

“Lila,” Marion smirks back, looking over to the girl who pales at an actual Wayne walking over, apparently she had actually decided to look up what they look like.

“Oh this is going to be good,” Chloe steps back, content to watch the show.

“Hey Dami,” Marion goes to sling an arm around his shoulder.

“Don’t call me Dami,” Damian sidesteps his attempt, preferring to stand closer to Marinette.

“How’s Cat-fred?” Marion smiles, getting Damian’s scowl to lessen slightly, so he smiles brighter.

“He’s doing well,”

“Good good…” Marion shuffles, no longer able to look directly at him, “How’s the family?”

Marinette gives him a sideways look that clearly says ‘you did this to yourself’.

“Why are you asking?” Damian narrows his eyes, and Marion knows he fucked up.

Nette help please!

“I wanted to know when I can come over next for a rematch,” Marinette gracefully lets him off the hook.

“Evidently sparring at the manor is at risk of interruption,” Damian notes, deep in thought, “We should plan an alternative meeting space,”

“That sounds great,” Marinette smiles, catching Damian in between their grins.

Damian just nods and walks away, Marion smiles and waves.

“You’re an idiot,” Marinette punches him in the shoulder, getting him to lower his arm.

“We’ve established that, thanks,” Marion rubs his shoulder with a pout, “However look over there,”

Lila having an aneurysm, surrounded by the class berating her with questions.

“Worth it,” Marion grins, going for a subtle fist bump.

“Agreed,” Marinette returns the gesture.

“Lila why didn’t you say hi?”

“Why didn’t he say hi?”

“He must not have seen me,” Lila’s lip quivers in a practiced motion, “Marinette was standing in front of me,”

“Or were you hiding behind Marinette?” Marion calls over, actually voluntarily walking towards the beast.

“What?! Of course I wasn't!” Lila shouts, her glare sending him a clear warning, one he was fully prepared to ignore.

“Then why didn’t you just move?” Marion asks oh so innocently.

“I didn’t want to be rude,” Lila sounds shy but her face screams murder, as people hang around to eavesdrop on their conversation.

“Then you were doing it to be polite and complaining about Marinette is quite rude,” Marion has to hold back a smirk as he hears an ‘oh snap’ from his audience.

“I- you!-”

“That’s nice Lila,” Marinette interrupts, walking away like the badass she is, “How about we get to class,”

Marion goes to class, having the fortune to be lumped in with Lila. And yes he does mean fortune because while Lila is trying to brag and get the students under her thumb they are happily ignoring her, focusing instead on Marion’s tips for learning French. When Lila switches tactics saying she can speak Italian Marion switches over to fluent Italian, something he had learned from his Nona. He then breaks out his Mandarin, daring Lila to try and fake knowing a language.

Lila goes quite, just kidding you know that's not true. She starts to pull students aside whispering to them. Marion isn't sure if she is intentionally loud enough that he can hear her or if it’s just his enhanced hearing.

“He’s a bully, I know he’s just trying to act nice to get something out of you,” Lila warns a student who looks disgruntled to have basically been pulled into the corner away from the group.

“He’s a Wayne?” Ah so he’s heard the not-so rumour, “What could I possibly have that he doesn't?”

“He’s not a Wayne!” Lila snaps, before regaining her composure, “I actually know the Waynes,”

“... because they’re in your class?”

“No!” She stops her foot, “They made up that rumour! I know because I’m personal friends with all the Waynes,”

“Alright show a picture,” The guy shrugs, stuffing his hands in his pockets, Marion reminds himself to give them the award of ‘you’re smarter than everyone in my class, it's not much but it’s something!’.

“ What? ” Lila seethes, looking ready to tear his eyeballs out to have an excuse not to show him.

“All I’m saying is I’ve seen multiple pictures of them with the Waynes plus, I heard that they actually talked to Damian Wayne this morning!” He actually looks in awe at this fact.

“I would hardly call that a conversation,” Lila crosses her arms, looking to the side like a child.

“No you don't understand!” He employers making a wild hand gesture as if trying to show how amazing it is, “He’s the ice prince, if someone else calls his name or even tried to talk to him he would just ignore them, but he actually walked over and talked to them,”

“He saw me-”

“Look I don’t really care, this argument isn't worth having,” The guy puts up placating hands, the gesture having the exact opposite effect on Lila, “Marion seems cool, Wayne or not, so yeah,”

Marion tries not to smile as one by one Lila is shot down. Her anger rising so high Marion is sure she would have been akumatized three times over by now.

“Hey what's with Lila, she seems to have it out for you?” The first guy to talk to her whispers, turns out his name is James and was very confused when Marion gifted him a small paper trophy.

“Oh she does,” Marion shrugs, filling out the worksheet idly.

“Ok… why?” James presses, the small paper trophy sitting on his desk.

“Hmmm…” Marion leans back, tipping his seat, “It’s a paradox,”

“What is?”

“If I tell you the truth, you’ll probably think I’m lying and her accusations will seem more believable,” Marion reasons, looking up at the ceiling, “If I fake ignorance, you’ll probably just take her word for it, seems like a trap,”

“You’re taking this way too seriously,” James shakes his head, and Marion cracks a grin.

“Sorry, just happy to have some new friends,” His smile lessens, becoming melancholy, “It’s been awhile,”

“What? But you’re so,” James makes another one of his wild hand gestures, “ Nice ,”

Marion just shrugs, but some people notice how he quickly glances over at Lila talking with someone else. Any further questions are cut off by the bell.

“Well, seems that's our cue to leave, now tell me are American school lunches really as bad as I’m led to believe?”

“You poor little french boy,” James shake his head, “You have no idea the horrors you will face,”

“This is so much worse than I thought it would be,” Marion looks down at his tray in disgust, “This is a private school?”

“I told you so,” James shrugs, walking through the cafeteria to find a seat.

“Hold up a sec,” Marion says, spotting Damian, not talking but rather trying to ignore someone talking to him, “Dami!”

“Don’t call me Dami,” Damian pushes Marion off him this time, the person who was talking to him looks shocked that his arms aren’t broken.

He puts his tray on the table and grabs Damian's shoulders.

“I have an urgent problem,”

“Cheng-Dupain, from what I know of you that is a massive exaggeration,” Damian brushes him off again and Marion’s scared the other kid is having a heart attack, “Now stop bothering me, it can wait for later,”

“I didn’t take any pictures of Cat-fred!” Marion cries, flopping onto Damian, who doesn't bother pushing him off a third time.

“... Understandable,” Damian snatches Marion’s phone, letting Marion input the code over his shoulder, “This is an oversight on your part,”

“So you’ll send some to me?” Marion grins, using Damian’s head as an armrest as he watches him enter his number.

“Yes,” Damian passes Marion’s phone back and Marion grabs his food.

“Great, see you later!” Marion stands up, ruffling Damian's hair before leaving.

“What was that!?” He hears the other person shout as he walks away.

“What was that?!” James yells, and whoops the entire cafeteria is staring between him and Damian.

“Do you ever learn from your mistakes?” Marinette asks, materialising beside him.

“No?” Marion scoffs, putting his and on his hip, “Why would I?”

“Are you actually siblings?” James still looks in shock but at least he isn’t gaping and gasping for air anymore.

“Yes?” Of course they were siblings, they are twins? Is that not clear?

“God-fucken dammit Mari!” Marinette hisses, “That’s not what they meant!”

“Oh,” Marion says softly, totally not jumping as Damian materialises next to him.

“Cheng-Dupain, it was this absentminded nature that caused this rumour to get out of hand in the first place,”

“Yeah… you are going to have to be way more specific,” Marion looks around the whole cafeteria is still staring at them, trading whispers.

“No we are not related, that is a baseless rumour,” Damian glares at James, making him recoil.

“Right… baseless,” Marion mumbles, getting kicked in the shin by Marinette.

“Adopted then?” James foolishly asks.

“ No ,” and yep now James looks afraid for his life.

“Haha, you know you don’t have to seem so offended by that?” Marion slings his arm around Damian’s shoulder, silently rejoicing that he only gets a withered glare this time.

“Like I said,” Lila’s voice carries over the still quite cafeteria, “The Waynes were telling me how they hate that rumour, the meer idea they are connected to the twins is-”

“ Excuse me ,” Damian slams his hand down on the table, right next to Lila making her jump out of her skin, “But who are you, and why do you think you know anything about my family and what we think,”

“I just-”

“You presume you’re of enough importance to understand my feelings towards the matter?” Damian stands tall and looks down his nose at her, “You aren’t,”

“Lila,” Alya whispers to her as Damian walks away, “I think you should just let them sort it out, it’s a family matter,”

“Who is that?” Damian demands when he gets back to them, “And how do I destroy her?”

“Don’t worry about it Damian, she's just doing it to get attention,” Marinette explains calmly.

“Lila Rossi,” Marion has other plans, “She’s a Liar, provide proof she doesn't know your family or anyone for that matter and she will be destroyed,”

Damian gives a curt nod and walks away, back to his friend who is still gaping like the rest of the room.

“ Mari ,” Marinette smacks him.

“I merely shared my wisdom,” Marion stroke his invisible beard, “What he chooses to do with it is up to him,”

“Ugh, that was a long day,” Plagg groans, curling up in the middle of his pillow.

“Plagg you slept in my bag the whole time,” Marion flops onto his bed, and it wasn't over they had to go on patrol soon.

“Which is far more disruptive than a bed,” Plagg complains, letting Marion curl up next to him, “Not comfortable at all,”

“Speaking of not being comfortable…” Marinette trails off, sitting on the edge of his bed.

“Our brother insisting we aren’t related?” Marion curls around to look over at her.

“Very strange feeling,” Marinette nods, absentmindedly pulling her feet onto the bed.

“He yelled at Lila,” Marion smiles up at the ceiling.

“Does that make him an honorary Dupain-slash-Cheng?” Marinette smiles over at him.

“Yeah…” Marion’s grin drops, “... Or Dupain/Cheng/Wayne,”

“... You want to tell them?” Marinette asks in her horrible tone that reminds him of being back in Paris and trying to stifle emotions.

“I mean, yeah,” He sits up, crossing his legs, “They’re family right? I want to know them, do you?”

“He seemed upset when they called us siblings,” Marinette turns to face him, the Kwamis watching their little meeting from the outside.

“He seemed more upset with Lila, said he was insulted by it,” Marion reasons, he feels like they’re back in Paris dressed as Ladybug and Chat Noir having three in the morning conversations on rooftops.

“It’s Lila, anything she says can piss someone off,” Marinette sighs, flopping back on the bed, destroying the illusion, “Tikki what do you think?”

“This is a decision you have to make on your own Marinette,” Tikki advises sagely.

“Tiiikkkiiiiii,” Marinette whines like a three year old

“Alright, I never had a family but I have the other Kwamis,” Tikki concedes, explaining to the twins giving her all their attention, “I am separated from Nooro and Dussu, and if family feels like them I do not want you to be separated,”

“What if they get mad?” Marinette asks, fidgeting.

“Then you’ll find a way to work through it,” Tikki smiles at them, “You’re Ladybug and Chat Noir, there isn’t anything you can’t do,”

“Just do it kid!” Plagg shouts, giving up on pretending to nap, “If it turns out bad at least you know!”

“Plagg!”

“What is it Sugar Cube?” Plagg asks sweetly, getting chased out the room moments later.

“So, we doing this?” Marion asks, after all their Kwamis have left.

“I guess so,” Marinette shugs, bringing out her phone, Marion holds her hand for comfort as they wait for the phone to ring.

“Hello?” Bruce picks up on the third ring.

“Hey Bruce,” Marion says, sounding strained even to himself.

“Marinette, Marion,” Bruce answers, pleasantly surprised, “Is everything alright?”

“How do you feel about telling everyone else?” Marion cuts straight to the chase, he can’t be bothered to run.

“... are you sure?” Marion can feel Marinette tension grow at the question, “I want to but they’ll all be surprised, it might ruin your trip,”

“We got sent to the hospital the first week being here,” Marion reasons, he should technically still be on bed rest.

“... That's true,”

“So?” He prompts after a too long pause.

“When do you want to tell them?”

“Tomorrow,” Marinette speaks up for the first time.

Well I guess that's that

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

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