#literally the first syllable in activism is ACT | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

delicrieux · 4 years ago

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☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 13: ...O-OH?

it’s the night of the big stream. y/n uncovers a strange, albeit deep, bond with charlie. corpse interrupts her garden date with sykkuno quite unceremoniously. tensions are high as ever; proximity chat reveals internal monologues and stray thoughts. y/n’s “batshit insane” energy affects everyone. this is, quite literally, the best game of among us bretman has ever played.

─── corpse husband x reader, sykkuno x reader (if you squint, it’s very one sided) ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 6.1k oops ─── ❥ reqs: sum people requested some interaction w bretman + jealous corpse + flirty sykkuno

author’s note: guys....GUYS WE’RE ON THE 3RD “OH” hope ur excited cus i am!!! this was rly fun to write, but then again, everything is better than writing an essay lmao! this is extremely chaotic and a bit seggsy but like a minuscule bit u wont even notice it i swear xx there’s not much social media in this one, mostly written lol. as always lmk wat u think n thank u for all ur kind words n sooo manyyyy ideassss!!! love u lots

ultimate masterlist. ҉ myso masterlist ҉ previous. ҉ next.

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It’s happening, you think, picking the discreet, angelic white color for your astronaut - with a halo and all, truly, you are a seraph that stepped through the gates of heaven and descended onto earth to grace these morals with your presence...quite literally, you’re not only donning white in game, but also in real life, cute as a button or more like as a bunny. Cat girls are overrated - cat boys, on the other hand, you’ll ardently defend till your last breath - but bunny girls...Safe to say, your chat had been going feral. Your endless ego is fed well. You even swore on your heart that no devilish trickery would follow in this game - you had left your snake ways behind you.

No one believed you. The Roaches know you too fucking well.

The influx of new subs, however, do not. Look at this cute girl! She wouldn’t hurt a fly! You chuckle at the compliments. At the exact same moment, Rae pipes up on the discord call, “Y/n is leering and cackling evilly. No one trust her.”

Demon woman herself must be watching your stream before starting her own. You pout, all adorable and innocent, but your eyes gleam slyly. Truly, a mastermind of manipulation! Look at you go! The chat is swooning. The viewer number steadily climbs past 16K and you hum happily, welcoming all that decided to join your little clan, “Don’t listen to Rae. Wifey is mad because I said I’m not bringing her back a souvenir. Well guess what, bitch, I’m the gift.”

Your perfect image does not quite align with your tone, nor the affectionate nickname you call your roommate (bitch, not wifey). The new viewers are none the wiser though, just like your new stream mates.

There is laughter from people you don’t quite know. The lobby is almost full, but not everyone has trickled in yet.

“Filing divorce papers right now.” Rae mumbles, but you hear the smile in her voice. It makes you crack a grin, too.

More hello’s and shy introductions to the people in the lobby. Sykkuno’s green astronaut pops in with a upbeat, “Hey, everyone! Hi, Y/n!” as his character circles around yours. A collective awww echoes in your stream chat as you, quite breathless at the wholesomeness, reply with a “Hi! Hi hi!” as well.

Corpse is next to join, mysteriously ominous. The discord call is pure chaos, everyone screaming over the other variations of his name while stressing different syllables. Silent as a grave, he just stands there, his black astronaut seemingly eyeing everyone in the lobby.

Alas, when the noise dies down, he utters, “Whaddup, baby.” and it’s pandemonium all over again. You are screeching/laughing along with the rest. His astronaut swiftly glides to Sykkuno, still circling around you, “Hey, Sykkuno.” He says. The latter abruptly stops. The game hasn’t even started, and already - betrayal! Sykkuno starts circling around Corpse now, leaving you in the dust.

“Hey, dude!”

“Yo,” You interrupt, “I’m like here too, yeah?”

“Fight, fight, fight!” Pokimane jeers. You can’t see her, but you’re certain she’s pumping her fists in the air.

“Let’s leave the bloodshed for the game, yeah?” Dream offers past her laugh ridden urging.

“No, fuck that, let’s start this shit right now,” Charlie declares - his monotone is strangely pleasant to the ear, and you lean back in your chair with a thoughtful hum. Something about his energy just clicks with yours instantly, but perhaps you’re judging too quickly- “Got my fucking knife ready to slit some throats. You can all pretend you aren’t ready to kill on sight, but that’s not me. I’ll teabag your dead fucking body.”

-yeah, no, your initial estimate had been correct! What a pleasant surprise, you feel like you and he will get along beautifully.

“Way to be subtle, Charles.” Rae snorts.

“Subtle doesn’t make an interesting game, Rae,” He’s quick to bite back, “and if I’m Impostor, you bet your fucking ass I’m going after you first.”

“Noooooo!” She shrieks, rushing to your astronaut, which is still just standing there, abandoned, like the equivalent of that one emoji, “Y/n, protect me.”

“Of course, baby.” You purr.

There’s mumbling in the discord call, though it’s barely audible. Corpse seems to be repeating the word to himself: Baby...Baby?...Baby...

“You’re gonna stab me in the back the first chance you get, won’t you?” She questions, already painfully aware of the answer.

“You know it!”

“Finally, someone that’s not fucking cowering in their boots and flaunting their real nature.” Charlie says, “Y/n, form a Big Dick Alliance with me.”

“Oh for sure, man.” You agree immediately, trailing to his in game figure, “Let’s show these virgins how it’s done.”

“This is going to be a mess, isn’t it?” Sean’s voice rings with a cheerful laugh, making you flustered. Yes, you’re actually playing with THE JacksepticeyeTM. You still haven’t fully wrapped your head around that part, “I’m very excited to see where this will go.”

“Nowhere good.” You say with unparalleled sincerity - every word you speak to him, the icon, the legend, the one of the few youtubers you actually actively follow, must be genuine. You doubt you can lie to him. He’s too good of a person. You admire him too much. Stuck between wanting to be a shady bitch and an absolute saint, you refrain from addressing him more - you are simply not worthy.

its the y/n trying to act like a normal person in front of jack for me

ikr she looks ready to join the monastery

each day we stray closer to gods light???

Your viewers are snide as always. Gosh, you love them.

The last player pops in, fashionably late, “Hey, y’all.”

“Hey, Bretman!” The call choruses somewhat harmoniously.

“Hi, daddy.” He’s speaking to Corpse now, a smile in his voice - you can hear it even past the static of his atrocious mic. Your eyes widen, eyebrows shooting up. Your friends are cackling, but confusion refrains you from doing the same - were you not the only one Corpse offered, seemingly so long ago!, to be his sugar baby?

One betrayal after the other. You’re glad for the Big Dick Alliance. The name has a nice right to it, too.

Corpse laughs, “...Hey, Bretman. How are you today?”

Damn, two sentences for him, but not even a word spoken to you!? You’re already scripting a very melodramatic paragraph you will text him after the stream. With poorly masked discontent, you mutter, “Wow, thanks for such a warm welcome, Corpse, my day’s going great, yeah, loving the company.”

“Now now miss girl,” Bretman chimes, “we can’t be all daddy’s favorite.”

“Careful,” Charlie drones, “I think you just got yourself onto Y/n’s shit list.”

“Right next to Corpse Husband and Valkyrae.” You agree, “Sykkuno!” You suddenly call him.

“Uhm-Uh-Yes?” Is his nervous reply.

“You’re safe.” You state coldly, “For now.”

“You are not going after Sykkuno on my watch.” It must be a belated holiday miracle because Corpse finally decides to address you. His words seem to awake something in him, “Hey-Hey-Hey-” He swiftly glides to you, standing right next to your minute virtuous angel, “When are you coming back to Cali?”

corpse stop acting weird challenge

literally omg lmao

he does bring up a good point y/n y u not in cali yet?!

^pack it up corpse simp he disrespected the queen when he didnt say hi

“Back off, buddy,” Charlie interjects, “this spot is for Big Dick Alliance members only.”

“I’m never returning.” You inform him, your voice cold like the Arctic snow, and the look in your eyes is no kinder. You feel like you’re having a stare down through screen.

Silence stretches. Is this an intimidation tactic? Because if it is, it’s a paltry one. Your conviction to be petty is stronger than any vulnerability you might feel.

“Then I have nothing to say to you.” He admits and fucks right off with that. Fine, go join Sykkuno and Rae in their little corner of betrayal! Friendship ended with Corpse, now Charlie is your best friend.

“Okay, guys, guys, guys-” Toast, noting this is going to spiral any minute now, tries to catch their attention, “Let’s start?!”

You look into your camera, and the roaches know what you’re thinking. You’re twins like that, communicating telepathically. You are taking back your tender promise of not being a conniving bastard. It’s fucking on. You will destroy everyone in your path, starting with the guy you have a stupid crush on - maybe?! Feelings are confusing, you’d rather just not think point blank period.

With no objections from the cast, the counter ticks away seconds and, for the first round, you’re stuck as CREW MATE.

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Charlie is a gift. Truly, you had not expected such a sudden, wonderful relationship to bloom. How have you not known of him sooner?! It’s a crime that you hadn’t spoken to him earlier. You are a 100% certain if you had found him before you started streaming, he would’ve been a big inspiration.

The two of you do your silly little tasks and curse like sailors, commenting about this and that thanks to proximity chat. You wouldn’t have been able to stand the claustrophobic silence if it was just a normal Among Us game - to think, missing out on all his foully worded quips! It almost springs a tear into your eye. He’s just as unhinged as you.

worried about this dynamic

its a trainwreck lol i love it plz collab more plz

Caught in a headed discussion in Electrical - TikTok trends, or audios specifically - you defend the app the best you can. Charlie thinks it’s super cringe, and you insist it’s part of the charm as you connect wires.

“I mean, have...-do you know that one audio, the one that goes, like,” You’re spilling your words, heated, frustrated that he’s so dismissive of the app that literally saved 2020, “it goes like, uhm,” You clear your throat, prep your voice - even take a sip of your favorite drink. Drawing the syllables, you try your best to make it drop an octave - it must sound like you’re doing an atrociously bad and nauseatingly scratchy Corpse impression with an extra dramatic flair, “My assssssss, your cockkk, you do the mathhh.”

“Did-Did I just-” You freeze hearing Corpse’s voice, finally done with your task. Charlie is muffling his laughter behind his palm; Corpse’s astronaut stands in the doorway, “What the fuck did I just walk into?” He seems genuinely confused, though a strangely winded. You’re mortified. Your shoulders are shaking. You look at the stream chat but it’s going too fast for you to follow. Manic laughter bubbles in your chest and you squeeze your eyes shut, mouth split into a toothy grin, lowering your head and trying to hide the blush dusting your cheeks.

“Hey? Guys? What the fuck are you talking about?” He questions again.

“Honestly?” Charlie chimes, “No fucking clue. TikTok, I think. Ask Y/n.”

You can’t reply. You’re crying. You cover your face with your palms, muttering a soft oh my god before bursting into a full blow laugh, throwing your head back, the motion accidentally knocking your headphones off.

“Y/n.” Corpse calls you, “Fuck was that?”

You’re howling. Your stomach hurts. There are literal tears in your eyes. You think Charlie might be laughing too, but you can’t really tell over your loud screeching. Hastily fixing your headphones, you wipe away the tears stuck to your lower lashes, heaving, “S-Sorry, I-” You stutter, breaking into another fit of giggles. Corpse patiently waits you to calm down. Catching your breath, you start again with a sniffle, “TikTok, yeah.” You idly fix your hair, trying to bite down a smile, “It’s an audio.”

“What- What kind of videos are you watching?”

“The good kind.” Your reply is instant, merciless, “Also, why are you here? We’re having a BDA meeting, you know.”

“I-I...” He trails off, “I...I heard people talking and...I just came here to check it out, but...I’m regretting it.” There’s a lilt in his voice, and you know he doesn’t regret jack shit. You bet he’s smiling. You wish you could see it.

“Bitch, then leave!” You huff. You aren’t sure what is with him today, and you don’t want to stick around and find out - his playfulness makes your stomach flip at the most inappropriate times! Like when you’re trying to sound threatening. You must retreat posthaste, “No, wait, I’ll do it for you.” You say, brushing past his character. Charlie follows after you.

“Dude, you’re so fucking lucky neither of us are the Impostor because you’d be deader than I’ve been feeling since I was 10.” Your favorite companion comments. Charlie is truly a modern wordsmith. You’re pretty sure you adore him, because you’re nodding your head, so quick to agree with him that even you’re surprised.

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A meeting is called. You spare a glance at your fallen crew mates. They will be missed. Sean most of all, God, why does heaven always take the good ones?! The game feels emptier without him, even if you really only passed him once on your trek to Cafeteria with Charlie.

You may or may not have been avoiding him, afraid you’d accidentally say something horrible and he would hate you. It’s a silly fear, though a deep one. And with Charlie keeping you company, you had not uttered a single objectively good, or even coherent, sentence. Your parents can’t watch this stream once it’s uploaded onto your Youtube channel. They know you’re barely keeping it together in most of your videos, but here, now? Yeah, no. Charlie is already hard to listen to on his own for sensitive viewers, and hearing you agree with literally everything he says with your own chaotic ideas? Your dad would stumble into an early grave.

Mom probably wouldn’t mind too much, but you’d have to explain your relationship status again. She is under the assumption that everyone you collab with is your significant other. You’d say it began with Sykkuno, though the exclamation of “Finally! My daughter isn’t pathetically single! We need to celebrate.” had started with Rae. Truly, a scandal.

Speaking of which, Sykkuno is gone, too, but you had time to mourn him already. You found his body roughly ten minutes ago; so torn with the fresh agony of heartbreak, you could not do anything else but cry. It was Charlie, bless his heart, that reported it.

“Someone killed Jack,” You say, voice dripping with venom, “court is now in session. I’m ready to vote the fucker out.”

People speak all at once. Toast roars over them, “ORDER! ODER IN COURT!” as he slams his hand onto his desk repeatedly. That seems to work, though briefly.

“I think it’s Y/n.” Corpse says. You stare at him, hand gripping your heart, mouth falling open in surprise.

flame him

corpse boutta be a corpse fr

beat his ass queen!!!!!

“Pardon my french,” You grumble, “but nani the fuck?!”

“It’s definitely Y/n, I found her and Charlie conspiring in Electrical. Surrealist experience of my fucking life, but it’s definitely her.”

“Dude, we’ve been over this,” Charlie sighs, shushing Rae who was about to comment something - knowing your luck, it was probably in favor of the man throwing you under the bus, “we would’ve snapped your fucking neck the moment you walked in. But we didn’t.”

“Yeah, we didn’t.” Corpse notes, “I said nothing about you, I’m just saying it’s definitely her. She probably didn’t kill in front of you because of your stupid alliance-”

“Someone sounds salty because he wasn’t invited.” Pokimane snickers.

“-or possibly she did tell you and you won’t betray her for the exact same reason.”

“That’s some big brain logic you pulled there, genius,” Charlie says, absolutely unimpressed, “sure you didn’t have an aneurysm trying to connect all of that together?”

“Well,” Rae pipes up, “Y/n and Charlie did say they will kill right before the game started. If you ask me, it’s not unbelievable. And Sykkuno was sorta on the shit list.”

“I’m writing down your name twice, Rachell.” You spit.

“Not helping your case at all, Y/n...” Dream worries, “And Rae makes a good point. Charlie and you have professed desire for murder. I’m just saying! It’s a bit suspicious, you know?”

The next words to leave Corpse’s lips sound incredibly smug, “See?” He drawls. The pressure is getting to you - you don’t understand where this beguiling talent of his to convince literally everyone comes from, but it doesn’t inspire any confidence. Your fist suddenly feels incredibly lonely, so useless - oh, how you long to swing at him, “It’s definitely Y/n.”

“I dunno...” Toast mumbles.

“It’s Y/n.”

“Corpse-” You try, but he's ignoring you - shocker, as if he hadn’t been doing that from the very start of this stupid game - and chanting your name like it’s a fucking mantra or something, a smile in his voice, knowing, relishing in the fact that he’s grating on your nerves, “FIRST OF ALL,” You scream into the mic, successfully cutting him off; catching your breath, you exhale, and continue, calmly, lowly, “get my pretty name out of your mouth.”

There’s a pause full of tense silence.

Then, there’s a sound, seemingly stuck in the back of his throat, “...O-Oh...?”

“Second of all,” You continue, words like honey dipped in arsenic, “This is the clearest smear campaign I have ever witnessed. By how hard you’re trying to frame me for fuck knows what reason, I’m led to believe it’s you that killed them. You’re the Impostor.”

“Corpse wouldn’t kill Sykkuno, though.” Rae comments, skeptical.

“Then the other Impostor did it.” You counter.

“Maybe you’re both Impostors.” Pokimane chirps.

“Y/n would never betray the Big Dick Alliance like that.” Charlie states.

You grin, “Charlie, I literally love you.”

“Wait hold up now,” Corpse seems to get his bearings together, “what’s this about love I’m hearing?”

“I have none for you, dick.” You snap, flipping him off. Your chat cheers. While he can’t see it, you hope he senses it through the screen, “I officially hate you.”

“No, wait-”

“Boo, Corpse, you suck.” Toast laughs.

“Y/n, please-”

“Let’s all vote for Corpse Husband, okay?” You say it like it’s his full official name with an encouraging smile and multiple soft nods. Sykkuno can’t be here to nod, so you’ll do it for him. You eye the rapidly decreasing timer before clicking on Corpse’s figure and voting for him. The VOTED icon instantly pops up beside your adorable astronaut.

“Baby, I-” It slips past his lips so easily, as if he’s not even thinking about it, like it’s only natural to call you that and a spike of anxiety shoots up, making you glare. It’s only halfhearted. You try your best to ignore the rapid and uncoordinated pulses of your heart. Replace unwanted feelings with anger and hate - works like a charm, every time.

“You are not allowed to call me that.” You hiss. The chat spams snake emojis.

“Wait-” Bretman chimes, “Hold up, y’all, slow down a minute. Why does Corpse never call me baby?”

“Yeah!” Pokimane agrees, “I want to be baby, too!”

Pokimane may not have been called baby, but you just single-handedly decided her nickname for her - Target 4. Welcome to the shit list, she is officially your public enemy number 1. You aren’t sure why the thought of Corpse ever referring to anyone else as baby makes you sick to your stomach (you actually do know why, but brain no think at the moment), but you wish this whole conversation never happened. You don’t like it.

20 seconds left. More VOTED icons appear by your friends. Corpse is the last one to cast his ballot at, you assume, you, as the rest wait for his quick explanation before everyone (or not) returns to the game, “...Because she’s my baby.”

Goodbye. Life had been sweet, and there was sorrow, though the amount of embarrassment you feel now is worse than when the internet found your cringe worthy high school pictures on your mom’s Facebook. It’s a mixture of dread and excitement - the pleasure of being noticed, cherished even, though anxious from vulnerability. Someone is screaming a very prolonged “WHAAAAT?!”, or maybe multiple people are, you aren’t sure, your ears start to hurt from the loud, conflicting cacophony of voices as you stare blankly at the screen. You received two votes, just like Corpse, Charlie got one, the rest skipped. With no one flung out, you all find yourself back in Cafeteria again.

Baby. My baby? My baby. My baby. The sentence is playing ping-pong in your mind, reverberating louder each time. You’re actually speechless for the first time in your life; your chest hurts, your heart beating so fast your hands start shaking. Had he meant it? Or was this a some joke? Was he trying to get a rise out of you again? You might just go insane from so many questions. My baby. Holy shit, this is a heart attack, this is what a heart attack feels like, dear God, you figured you at least had ten years before you get one!

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First round ends with IMPOSTORS raining victorious. Your sixth sense had been working wonders since, true to you previous estimate, it had been Corpse. His companion was Pokimane. For absolutely no reason what’s so ever, you change her name once more from Target 4 to Target 1. Normally, you’re all for girls supporting girls. Men don’t deserve anything, really, but now you’re so flustered and still reeling from what you are 80% sure was cardiac arrest that you genuinely don’t care about your established morals.

Round two starts without much deliberation. You get CREW MATE again; the game must sense your growing bloodlust, making sure that once you do get IMPOSTOR, you will not hold back. True power is granted to those who are ready and strong enough to wield it. You wait for your moment with bated breath.

Charlie is taken from you too early. The two of you were once again caught in a discussion - God knows about what, Minecraft, hentai, oh! your server! - as you tried to card swipe for the umpteenth time. The lights blew out and you just knew one of you was getting murdered there and then. Charlie’s voice abruptly cut off, and you think a part of you died with him.

It’s a cold meeting; with your new best friend being the first to go, everyone decides to skip. You proclaim you seek vengeance. When the meeting comes to an end, Sykkuno is the first to offer his condolences.

“I’m sorry, Y/n.” He says, and while he’s not in Brooklyn, you somehow feel him patting your back. You feign a sniffle.

“There’s nothing to apologize for...” You murmur sadly, “Unless...” Your voice turns sharp as the knife that was surely twisted into Charlie’s back, “It was you?”

“NO!” He exclaims, “I would never-you gotta believe me! I would never kill him. I know he’s important to you. I wouldn’t do that, I swear.”

“He was like a brother to me.” You admit, solemn, “Charlie, if you’re haunting me right now, know I will avenge you. I will not let this go.”

Sykkuno hums, circling around you, “Hey, I have a task in Greenhouse. Would you, uh--Would like to, uhm, join me?” Despite the shaky start, he finishes on a firm, pleasant note. He’s trying to cheer you up. Having lost your closest friend, he’s offering you his company. You accept with a soft smile and a cute “Yes, please!” and he releases an airy little laugh. The two of you make your way to your favorite place in map MIRA.

It’s difficult to stay sad for long when Sykkuno’s so sweet; the atmosphere of the Greenhouse is strangely calming; your problems seem to be left behind the shut doors. If you tried hard enough, you could imagine being in an actual Greenhouse - the warm, damp air clinging to your skin, the unmistakable smell of earth and vegetation, the pleasant silence broken only by yours and his hushed voices and clumsy footsteps.

The two of you are talking. Mainly about your choice of attire. Cat first, Sykkuno ponders aloud, doing his task as you watch the plants grow, now bunny, what’s next? You affirm that you will most likely dress up in cow-print next, or as an adorable sheep. He laughs, admitting you’ll look good in anything before he trails off. His awkwardness is really endearing.

“Or!” You chirp happily, content with being locked away with him for the whole game. The idea must be playing in his mind, too, because he seems in no rush to leave, “I could, like, dress as someone from My Hero Academia. I watched the stream you did with Stella, the one where she made you look like Todoroki. It was really cute. You were really cute.”

“Oh, uhm-well, uh, thank you, thanks, I, uhm-” He clears his throat, and despite his stutter, you hear the smile in his voice, “I-I think you’d look better, though. Not as Todoroki. Or, probably as Todoroki, too. But, uhm, what character are you thinking about?”

“Maybe Momo?”

“Momo!” He yeps, “Momo is good. Yeah, she’s great. You’ll-uhm-you’ll look amazing. Really. Momo is awesome. Very pretty. Just like you.”

You are blushing. A stupid, toothy grin makes your cheeks hurt. Your eyes flicker to the chat, but again, it’s going wild. Giggling, you thank him for his sweet words, so giddy it’s honestly embarrassing. Why can’t you stop smiling? This is incriminating. You hide your lips behind your palm.

“...What’s this?” Corpse question. You had failed to note his sudden appearance, too busy gushing. “Am I interrupting?”

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets. For someone so awkward and shy, he sure is good at hiding it when he wants to. Perhaps it’s all an act and you had been deviously tricked! Probably not, but you can’t help but narrow your eyes suspiciously, finally able to calm down. You definitely underestimated him, you just haven’t figured out how yet, “Not really! Y/n was sad Charlie died so I took her here.”

“You interrupted our date, dipshit.” You deadpan.

“...Fuck you say?” Corpse dares, his voice low and somewhat menacing - for someone who exclusively portrays his emotions through only his voice, he’s incredibly hard to read. This is payback. Your love for wreaking havoc resurfaces suddenly. Serves him right for pulling all this ignoring shit at the start. Maybe you’ll make him say oh again.

Your sly smirk is promptly wiped. Fuck. He said oh, he literally said oh out loud. The Teruhashi fangirl in you is screaming. You had been so caught up in defending yourself you didn’t even register it at first. Alarmed, you look at the camera, then at the chat. First oh, then my baby. There’s no way he had been teasing you, and this proves it. Holy shit. You mouth the words “HE SAID OH!” for your audience only.

now she notices

snail pace baby we’ve been loosing our shit for the past hour

corpse x y/n saikik au enemies to lovers 500k words slow burn im here for it

opening wattpad rn^

Your heart races in your chest - it might be considered an Olympic medalist at this point; flustered yet again, you wish you could cave into yourself. You should’ve brought your bright blue wig with you to Brooklyn. Turns out it would have been perfect for this stream. Yes, yes thinking about unnecessary details always works in distracting you from the butterflies throwing a fucking rave in your stomach.

“I guess it is a date!” Sykkuno admits, “Kinda after a funeral, but still.”

Corpse hums. You’re still too stunned to say anything. The black astronaut with adorable cat ears approaches Sykkuno.

“It’s not.” He states. Your mouth falls open in shock as your date, your companion, the Shoto to your Momo is murdered in cold blood right in front of you. His lifeless body, cut in half, lays on the tiles by the growing flowers, right beside you, “You didn’t see shit.”

“...I didn’t see shit.” Is all you can utter, breathless and terrified.

“Thaaaat’s fucking right, baby.” Corpse coos, “Now I’m gonna report it, and I’ll say we found Sykkuno together. Better stick close to me after the meeting, got it?”

If Sykkuno is Shoto, then Corpse is definitely Dabi.

why is that kinda hot tho omg

didn’t know i needed dom corpse since now but i do

y/n looks like shes boutta throw up lmao

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You follow him around like a lost puppy - because what else is left for you to do!? You’re helpless in this situation. He’s got you in the palm of his hand, successfully eliminating everyone you had previously interacted with. First it was Charlie, then Sykkuno, even Sean, who said hello in passing, was shot instantly. Real Sangwoo behavior. You almost want to scream warnings at everyone to not approach you. You cannot mourn another lost crew mate, you don’t think your conscience can take it. But words fail to form. You’re too weak. You fake cry to your audience. They’re quick to remind you to stop acting like a little bitch.

“Mean.” Is all you say, eyeing the comments.

“Hm?”

“Was talking to the roaches.”

“What are they saying?”

“That I should betray you.”

“...Better not.”

A shiver shoots up your spine and you half believe he will bust down your door and drag you into his basement for real. A nervous laugh slips past your lips, “I won’t, I won’t.” You reassure him, “Don’t worry, I’m sticking with you. I haven’t seen shit.”

“I like that you listen to me. You always this agreeable?”

“You’re kinda not giving me a choice right now.” You grumble, vending yourself a drink while he looms behind you, protecting you. From who?! Himself?!

“Oh my fucking God, finally,” Bretman exclaims, “girl, I’ve been running around the whole map trynna find someone, is everyone like, dead?”

You’re scared to reply. Corpse does it for you, “Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, maybe? Not sure. Where have you been?”

“Oh you know,” Bretman grins, “doing tasks, talking shit, the usual. You two are not, like, Impostors right?”

You shoot a look at Corpse, but he obviously can’t see it. Biting your lip, you murmur, “Nope.”

“Just your regular crew mates doing regular crew mate things.” Corpse says, no, purrs. Because that’s not suspicious at all. You’d recommend Bretman to run, and not only because that sounded shady as fuck. But he seems to enjoy danger, or he just doesn’t care.

“Hmmmm, crew mates, sure. Miss girl Y/n,” He’s addressing you now; you smile anxiously, “How come every time I see you, you’re with a different man?! Like damn, leave some for the rest of us, for real!”

You like Bretman. You like his high-pitched whine and drawl. You would like him even more if not for the complex situation at hand. You fear for his life. Chewing at your bottom lip, you snicker, “Sorry, Bret. I can leave you Corpse if you want?”

He laughs, “Girl, I’d say yes so fucking quick, but I know he wouldn’t want that. Normally I wouldn’t care, but y’all are such a cute couple it’s making me not want to be a shady motherfucking bitch. Changing my ways, embracing the lord. Love it.”

Corpse doesn’t correct him that you are, in fact, not dating. His lack of reaction unnerves you slightly. Does he...? No! No think! Only exist! You catch that train of thought and steer it away from forbidden territory. Looks like it’s up to you to clear the air, and that is exactly what you do after trying to swallow down the lump in your throat, “Uh, we’re not together, actually. We’re just really good friends.”

“Bitch, then move over,” Bretman says snappily,”go like, back to your other boyfriends. Or find another one. I think I saw Dream near Navigation.”

“Near Navigation, huh?” Corpse hums thoughtfully. It’s a subtle warning, but you catch it. Yeah, even if you try running, Dream’s going to join your other ‘boyfriends’ in the afterlife. Granted, killing someone by just talking with them is kind of cool. Or maybe Stockholm Syndrome is finally kicking in, “Bret, the thing is, Y/n’s scared of dying, so she asked me to stay with her.”

It’s disturbing how good at lying he is. It is also really really attractive, as bizarre as that is.

y/n stop being in a toxic relationship with corpse challenge

making fanart of this omg her face

its the blushing for me girl get your head outta the gutter!

^she cant, it lives there

“Baby, you’re gonna fucking die if you stick with her,” Bretman points out, “have you noticed the mortality rate of her partners? Rest in peace, daddy.”

“He’s right, you know.” You mutter, dramatically looking to the side, “I’m no good, Corpse.”

“Not leaving you, end of discussion. Bretman, join us?” Corpse offers, catching you by surprise. He might still be lying, though. Creating a false sense of security before eliminating Bretman. Probably would laugh while doing it, too. Wow, he truly is evil.

Turns out he doesn’t have to do any of that, because when Dream strolls into Cafeteria, he kills Bretman instead. The two Impostors are finally revealed. You promised not to snitch on Corpse, but you didn’t say shit about not exposing Dream. You press the REPORT button and say just that: “Dream just murdered Bret right in front of me and Corpse.”

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

The last meeting is called. Dream had been voted out with the help of Corpse, and now only you, he, and Rae remain.

“Baby, you know what to do.”

The VOTED icon pops up beside Corpse’s astronaut. Rae wheezes, “No! Y/n, it’s not me, you gotta believe me, I swear it’s not me!”

“...I really don’t know,” You murmur, “I’ve been with Corpse a lot, and...Rae, I’m not sure...”

“Please! I swear it on my Kagayama cardboard cut out, I’m not the Impostor, please! You know me, I’d never lie to you like this.”

“She’s definitely lying.” Corpse says, sounding pleased.

“Don’t listen to him! Remember, during the first round, when he tried to convince us that you were the Impostor? He’s doing the same shit to me!”

“I also remember you agreeing with him.” You remind her.

“I was stupid! Small dumb brain moment! He was using us to win! He’s using you right now!” She votes, “Please, Y/n, make the right choice.”

You’re silent for a moment.

“I’m gonna...I’m gonna vote for who I think it is.” You lastly say.

A slow, lazy grin makes it’s way onto your lips, eyes gleaming mischievously. You had not forgotten your promise to your brother from another mother, you had not forgotten the pride of the BDA, you had not forgotten your beautiful friendship. Two miniature astronauts pop up by Corpse’s at the exact moment Rae screeches “YEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEES!”

“Fuck.” Is all Corpse says with a laugh.

The screen changes, informing of the first CREW MATE victory.

Your ears are assaulted with different voices as you appear in the lobby.

“Now that’s what I’m fucking talking about.” Charlie raves, “I swear to fucking God, Y/n, you even got me going for a second. Pulled some 1000 IQ shit right there. It was fucking amazing. Best back stabbing I’ve seen in a while, and I’ve seen a lot.”

“That was absolutely fantastic, Y/n.” Sean applauds, “I really thought you joined Corpse like some crew mate accomplice or something. Can’t believe you switched on him at the last second.”

“That’s my wifey!” Rae cheers, strolling to you, “Love you, mwah.”

“Hey, Corpse,” Charlie calls him, “How does it feel to be a fucking loser?”

“I’m surprisingly fine with it.”

yeah he would be lmao

mom is the best snake ever i love you sm y/n

rae and y/n’s friendship....the feeeeeels

As the rest sing your praises for another solid minute or two, the third round begins. CREW MATE again. Though, just because you’re stuck as an underpaid worker in a dying spaceship, it doesn’t mean you’re innocent. Your last round proved that quite well. You can’t help but silently snicker.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

TAGLIST IS CLOSED!

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 fanfic #social media au #corpse husband imagine #myso #make you say oh #sykkuno x reader #if ya squint #imagine #imagines #reader #reader insert

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erodasfishtacos · 3 years ago

Note

Cheating!h blurb where ana asks why they dont have sex or at a party and she’s trying to pull him into a room and y/n watching him try to make excuses and then next time having sex with y/n he says anna keeps trying and she has the pride he doesnt give in... or something exploring that situation

warnings: smut, cheating, angst

“Anna, I just-“ Harry huffs as she tugs him into a spare bedroom of the party after he had put up a valiant fight to keep them in the main area.

Her hands are unbuttoning his already barely buttoned shirt, running down his bare skin, and he is cut off by a sloppy kiss to his mouth.

Fear shoots up through him, it’s not YN, he doesn’t want this with her.

“C’mon, it’s been almost six months and you still haven’t touched me. Just fuck me,” Anna complains, fed up with the lack of or more like nonexsistence of their sex life.

It was near impossible to believe, someone like Harry who oozed sex out of every pore of his body wasn’t sexually active or interested in fucking his girlfriend.

When Anna takes a different approach of going for his belt buckle, mouth trailing against his collarbone, and attempting to get to his groin - which hadn’t hardened in the slightest.

“Enough,” Harry states firmly, grasping her wrists lightly and making her look at him, “I don’t want to have sex right now, okay?”

His girlfriend’s face falters, “You never want to.”

“If you don’t like it break up with me,” He hisses, knowing YN is going to get suspicious the longer they’re in a room together.

Anna, who really did have a kind heart, frowns, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pressure you into anything. I would never force you to.”

Harry just rebuttons his shirt, “S’fine. Let’s just get back to the party and have a good time, yeah?”

She nods as Harry swings his arm around her shoulder, unlocking the door, and pausing when he sees YN a bit of the ways down the corridor - staring at the two leaving the bedroom.

“I’m going to get a drink,” He dismisses bluntly, his focus set on the girl who was visible angry with him in the kitchen.

Before he can get out a word, she steps forward and swipes her thumb against his collarbone.

It comes back with the waxy substance of Anna’s bright mauve lipstick.

“Have fun in there, did you?” YN asks, she tries to keep her tone cool and unbothered by Harry sees right through it to the insecurity.

“You know I didn’t,” He replies between gritted teeth, how could she get jealous when this was all her?

He didn’t want a girlfriend.

Well he did but he only want her and she fucking knew that.

“If you wanted me to believe you, maybe you would have wiped her lipstick marks from your neck and chest,” She chuckles and it makes Harry’s hair on the back of his neck stand up.

It was the distinct chuckle and tone she used when she was upset but wasn’t going to admit it over her dead body.

Before he can call her out, she shoulders past him, disappearing into the dancing crowd of people and out of his side.

“Fuck,” He mutters, running a hand through his hair before trudging off to find Niall and Zayn - to distract himself.

“Stay the night, please?” Anna asks softly when Harry pulls up to her small, quaint little house that fit her perfectly.

“M’sorry. I have a long day tomorrow.”

It was a lie. It was rarer that he told the truth to his girlfriend than fibbing.

“So? Let’s cuddle, do something,” She begs, frustrated with her emotionally and sometimes physically distant boyfriend.

Harry shakes his head, “Maybe next weekend.”

He always said that.

It never happened.

—

As soon as he drops off Anna, his next stop is a route that is ingrained in his head front and backwards, her apartment.

He has a key, doesn’t bother knocking and just barges into the dimly lit house with her shoes tossed clumsily on the floor - almost trips.

When he finds her, she’s in a towel - freshly showered, and brushing through her hair in her small walk-in closet.

She heard him come in, knew he was storming in here, and still didn’t turn around when he slammed open her bedroom door.

He’s crowding behind her, knocking the brush out of her hand, and pinning her to the wall, “You’re so bloody ridiculous. You jealous little brat.”

YN doesn’t respond, her body still wound tight with tension and a gluttonous feeling of rage for earlier in the night.

“Been fuckin’ you and only you since I was seventeen. Y’know that I didn’t fuck her, didn’t even touch her and you still have the nerve to act like a crybaby,” Harry seethes, his whole chest pressed against her back, no room to escape.

“Her lipstick was all over you,” She argues back weakly when his hands come to the knot in her towel, teasing at unraveling.

“Yeah because she was begging me to fuck her and I said ‘no’ so she tried to get in my pants and I pushed her off.”

“Why?” YN murmurs, quiet in the small space.

“You fuckin’ know why,” Harry growls with his teeth grazing across her bare shoulder blade.

“Say it.”

“I pushed her off ‘cause you’re the only person I’ve fucked since I was seventeen. My cock is yours,” He rasps, untying the knot and letting the towel drop.

He wishes she would just end all this bullshit.

Let him have her fully and completely but she was so fucking afraid of getting hurt when it wouldn’t happen.

“Go on, tell me who owns this cunt,” Harry demands, hand tucking between her thick thighs to cup her puffy mound in his hand.

“H,” She whimpers as his finger lightly slides up the wet groove of her center with a careful drag.

When she doesn’t give him the answer he wants, he gives her clit a hard pinch, “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Yours, fuck - it’s yours,” YN huffs at the slight but welcome pain on her nerves - relaxing when it returns to soft strokes.

“Anna is pretty, y’know? Had her on me, kissing my neck, unbuttoning my shirt and shit,” Harry hums against her ear, two fingers sinking into the tight heat of her body.

He continues, “Didn’t even get hard when that happened. That’s how fucking trained I am for you. What a tight fucking leash you have me on.”

YN turns a bit into putty at his words, insecurity slow flooding out of her body, and feeling more like how she usually does.

“How do y’ever forget? How much I love you?” He asks in true disbelief, it literally oozes through his pores how much he adores his high school sweetheart.

“Don’t-“ She squeaks desperately.

“Why won’t you let me tell you how much I love you, baby?”

His voice like dark, sweet honey that seeps into her every nerve-ending and makes her feel lethargic, in a boneless silky way.

“Stop plea- Just touch me,” YN begs when his fingers crook into against her plushy, tight walls with focused strokes.

“You need to admit it, y’stubborn little thing. I know how in love you are with me,” Harry pushes, needing to hear validation from his favorite person on this earth.

He squats down, spreading her cheeks, and leaning in to lick from the top of clit all the way back to her other entrance.

His large palms keeping her apart, digging into the thick skin until his fingers are white - tongue finding her core and darting in to her most sensitive area.

“H, oh my god,” YN moans, head falling forward against the wall, pushing her hips backward into his mouth.

“Darling, c’mon. Show me how sweet y’can be f’me,” Harry goads encouragingly, it always took a little bit of effort to get her to break.

“I love you….s’much,” She whispers, voice cracking on the last syllable as he rewards her with a suckling kiss to her clit and slips his fingers back in.

“I know y’do, baby. You know I’d never give it to anyone but you,” Harry coos, anything to get her to soften her harsh edges, chip away at her stone wall.

Her hand reaches behind to weave through his hair, her stomach sucking in harshly as she feels her tight band snap as she releases.

“O-oh, you’re mine. Y’mine,” His love chants as she rides out her intense wave of her orgasm as he helps her through it.

“M’yours,” Harry agrees immediately, standing up and a smile breaks on his face when she turns around and wraps him into a hug.

“I love you. I know you didn’t touch her. I just hate it,” YN murmurs softly, undoing his shirt and sliding it off of his shoulders.

His smile fades at her words, “Then make it stop. The minute you tell me you’re ready to make this work, I’ll break up with her.”

“I’m no-not ready,” She stammers, eyes widening like a deer in headlights at his words.

So afraid. So fucking scared.

“Okay, okay,” He soothes when he sees her chest start to rise faster and faster with anxiety.

He doesn’t want to drop it.

He wants to shake her and ask her how the fuck she doesn’t see that they’re already in a relationship and she’s being blinded by irrational fears.

Harry waddles them over to her messy bed, pushing her back and adjusting until she’s in the center - staring at him with doe eyes.

He loves her so much it hurts to look at her for too long.

When he tugs off his jeans, taking his phone out to put on the side table - he sees an unread text from Anna.

I’m sorry about earlier. I really want to make it work with you. You’re a great guy x

Harry should feel bad. Maybe his stomach should have dropped or something at how awful he’s being to that girl.

But when his love is splayed out, pliant and malleable for him, he can’t find an ounce of fucks to give as he tosses it on the bedside table.

He had been in love with this girl since he was sixteen, never fell out of it, he was addicted to her - willing to go through all this bullshit if it meant he had her.

It always felt like the first time, crawling on top of her, and bending down to pull her puffy lips into a strong kiss as he slides in, always a pleasant stretch.

As they move together, in a familiar rhythm, she murmurs against his lips, “One day, I’ll be ready.”

“Please, make it soon, darlin’,” Harry pleas, swallowing harshly before pushing his emotions into hard, deep thrusts.

#cheating!harry masterlist #cheating!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #harry styles x yn #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fic rec #harry styles masterlist #harry styles #Harry styles smut #Harry styles angst #Harry styles au #cheating!Harry blurb #blurb

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wolfgirlmilf · 3 years ago

Text

The whole 'sub that absolutely worships their domme/dom in every way' trope is common and valid.

But I love seeing other dominants who are just utterly enthralled by their submissives... Yes they hold the power and they're in control and they take the lead, but it's first and foremost because it's what makes their beloved sub happy.

Dominants that cherish, above all else, their sub's smile, willing and eager to do any experimenting their adorable good sub desires.

(Soft gay ramblings below)

Dominants that all but literally worship the ground their sub walks on because that's their sub right there and gosh they're so cute and how did they ever get so lucky?

I see a lot about strong hard dominants but like... Need more of that soft domme energy. Give me those dominants who wake up and make sure they're awake when their long distance sub wakes up, maybe having been asleep on a discord call, and being sure that they can make their sub feel safe as soon as they wake up incase they had a bad dream.

Who hold their darlings in their arms and marvel at how soft and magnificent their sub's skin is as they rub their back or trail soft fingers along limbs or sides.

Now, that's not to say they're spineless or can't be hard... dommes/doms who normally are always giving their subs puppy dog eyes even when they aren't making eyecontact because of how happy they are, but who have to restrain themselves from not being rash whenever someone hurts their sub in anyway because how dare someone hurt their darling? And when things do get lewd, soft and slow, until their sub begs for otherwise, quietly murmuring reasurrances and asking questions to ensure that they communicate with their sub. Even during intense scenes, especially then, actively making sure they're mentally present because harming or upsetting their sub is a nigh unforgivable act that takes them a while to forgive themselves for.

Dommes that would break the world if that's what it took to look after and protect their submissive because their sub is the most precious thing in all of reality and nothing else come's close to as important.

Dominants that check for colors so often with their sub that their sub teasingly double checks that their favourite colour hasn't become green, based on the very happy reactions the dominant has every time they hear that syllable escape their sub's lips.

I dunno, I'm sleepy but just... There's nothing wrong with simping for your submissive and I feel like we should see more rep of that because it's a wonderful flavor that feels very much needed in the hellscape we call Earth.

#Totally not because it's cute seeing other dommes/doms acting like I do #softccubus speaks #Wow that was a long ramble #I have Thoughts #as you can tell

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shoeshineyboy · 4 years ago

Text

what the hell is Coldkiller X?

“it’s the cold medicine from Ace Attorney and evidence in the first case of Trials and Tribulations” - it sure is! but from a pharmaceutical perspective, the details are... hazy, at best. on this episode of Zara unravels I’m going to put off doing my actual pharmacy essay by trying to figure out the pharmaceutical properties of Coldkiller X (or Coldkiller Z, in the Japanese version), because nothing ruins the experience of a game I first played decades ago like medical unknowns

so, first of all, what is it?

I saw a picture of Coldkiller X, and my first question was, “jesus christ, what even is that?”. obviously, it’s a bottle of... some form of solid oral medication. but looking at this picture, they’re too spherical to be tablets, and the wrong shape to be capsules:

...however, I then remembered that as a person with problems I take a lot of Neurofen Plus (generic name ibuprofen), that they come in something called a liquid capsule - a capsule containing the liquid form of the medication inside. WHICH MEANS THAT Coldkiller X’s slogan, “kills colds good”, is... not just a marketing ploy. liquid capsules are faster acting than regular capsules or tablets, because once the coating is dissolved in the stomach, the active ingredient in the medication doesn’t need to dissolve, and can be absorbed quicker by the body, so that it can act.

okay, but what actually is it?

...the next question on my mind was figuring out what its purpose was - what symptoms of the cold are relieved by taking Coldkiller X? now - despite saying it “kills colds”, that... isn’t typically what cold medicines actually do - they don’t attack the virus itself, but instead serve to eliminate the symptoms. but what symptoms was Feenie looking to eliminate? well, most likely, sneezing and a blocked/runny nose, so I think he’s looking for a decongestant, here.

and, great news, decongestants are available in liquid and solid form! given that this is a video game, after all, we can take a few creative liberties here and assume that the Master Group figured out liquid capsules, even if the drugs that I’m basing this off of don’t come in liquid capsule form.

...because, that’s the next step - figuring out what the active ingredient in Coldkiller X would be. and, here’s the thing - my experience in pharmacy is more in oncology (cancer), and I’ve never worked in community pharmacy, so my knowledge of cold and flu medicine is. limited. lucky for me, I have google, and I found a site with a list of common decongestants - and it was at this point, that I realised I was really pushing the limits of this joke. if I spent too much time on it, I’d be taking it seriously, so I looked up what the best decongestant was, and came up with pseudophenedrine.

and, good thing too, since, out of the list, it was the only one that came up with both solid and liquid forms. I gave them all a quick look over, but found that pseudophenedrine was probably the closest I was gonna get to this fictional, not real medication that no normal person has given a second thought.

...but, there was a problem. pseudophenedrine only comes in pack sizes of 12 when bought from the pharmacy, and Feenie definitely had more than 12 in that bottle. however, apparently, pseudophenedrine in greater amounts is available on prescription, too - so we can assume that maybe Feenie was prescribed it and therefore able to access more of it, though it’s available for everyday sale in smaller quantities

so, that’s fine! and it’s been years since I’ve played this case, if Dahlia claims it’s hers, hey, they’re at college, there’s always sicknesses going around, right?

so... I could leave it here, and say Coldkiller X is pseudophenedrine, but where’s the fun in that? we know that the Coldkiller brand was around since at least 2000, since Ray states he uses it in AAI2 case 3. I’m not going into the technicalities of branded and generics, but we can say from looking at, well, literally any OTC drug name that Coldkiller isn’t the generic.

we’ve established that Coldkiller is a decongestant with similarities to pseudophenedrine. the suffix “-ine” indicates that the drug is an antihistamine - used to treat allergy symptoms, though these are given to relieve cold symptoms, too. so, cool! we can say that the generic name for the Coldkiller medicine ends in -ine.

now, prefixes can be a little more creative. Pfizer (known for viagra, and their covid vaccine) outlines some rules - at least two syllables, not containing certain letters, not counted as marketing, and not suggesting that the drug only has one purpose. these rules don’t seem to be totally consistent across the board, given the existence of, say, Warfarin, and, again, don’t want to spend too long on this - but I’m going to take a couple of these rules - namely, the marketing one, and the one involving at least two syllables.

the marketing one simply means ruling out anything to do with Master, since, when the patent expires, it won’t be theirs alone to produce. so... what else corresponds with Coldkiller? looking at the cases where it features, you have pseudonyms, twins, uh... ice, betrayal... there’s something there. given the drug that I’m inspired by, I’m going to take the “pseudo” part of pseudonym, as a nod to pseudophenedrine. pseudonine? pseudotwinine?

...maybe just pseudonamine. it sounds a lot like I just butchered “pseudonym”, but, hey, this is a video game, and the Master group does deal with things called “fatallium” and “normallium”...

Coldkiller X, generic name Pseudonamine, available in packs of 12 liquid capsules, to be taken up to 4 times daily when necessary for the relief of symptoms of coughs and colds in adults. To be taken with caution for those with heart conditions, not to be given to children under 6. Side-effects rare, but contact your doctor or pharmacist with any concerns.

Coldkiller X - Kills Colds Good!

#ace attorney #WHY DID I SPEND THIS MUCH TIME ON THIS PLEASE #anyway uh. i figured out the generic name of coldkiller x #i'm done making good contributions to this fandom now this is all you're getting #also uh #aai2 spoilers #i guess

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hunnybadgerv · 4 years ago

Text

Falling for Farah's Framejob | The Wayhaven Chronicles | Det. Bishop Vasquez x Agent Mason

Summary: Farah develops a plan and runs with it of their own accord, inviting Detective Bishop Vasquez to the warehouse to help them cook up some fun and silliness for the rest of Unit Bravo.

a/n: Reminder, Bishop is genderfluid. So, a horrible thing was heard in my own kitchen during the making of dinner and I couldn’t resist using it. Though this thing ran off with my brain. Consider yourself warned there is a lot of domestic fluff, cooking, and general silliness with a splash of pining.

Read on AO3

Falling for Farah’s Framejob

-1-

BAM!

“What the …?” Farah chirruped, her head snapping toward the detective.

Bishop raised a brow at her. It took a second for their completely serious look to give way to a tiny smirk that twitched upward. The two stared at each other, then Bishop tipped the chef’s knife under their hand enough to show the vampire the massacred clove of garlic. Farah’s brow drew together.

“You want to try?” Bishop asked with wide grin.

Farah’s eyes widened.

“Don’t go all out,” the detective warned, setting a garlic clove on the cutting board between them and set the knife down. They could just imagine Farah hitting the knife so hard the blade shattered or the clove pulverized to nothing.

Bishop talked her through where to set the blade and then Farah dropped a heavy fist atop it, which dusted them both with a fine mist of garlic. Again they looked at one another, then fell into laughter in unison.

“Think that might have been a little much,” Bishop stated.

“Guess now we’re garlic buddies,” Farah howled, bumping the detective’s shoulder with their own.

Bish laughed wildly, trying to dust some of the juicier bits off their clothes. “Good thing all the vampire stories are wrong or you’d be fucked.”

Farah froze and blinked once, then struck her best Wicked Witch of the West pose. “I’m melting.”

The detective snickered and shook their head, handling the next two cloves on their own.

“Melting,” Farah insisted, bumping the detective again with their shoulder. “What a world,” she crooned, acting like she was indeed fading away behind the counter.

“I thought you were helping me,” Bish charged, glancing back over their shoulder.

“I got you.” Farah sprang up next to them with a little hop. “Whatcha need?”

Another head shake. “Stir the rice and see if the water’s boiling yet.”

“On it.”

Bishop finished up the chopping, keeping a bit of an eye on Farah. The detective still wasn’t quite sure why they were doing this. Nate had told them that most vampires didn’t really eat, in fact he insinuated that most of them actively avoided I, which made sense with hypersensitivity and all. So, when Farah suggested that Bishop come over to the warehouse and cook with her, it was kind of a surprise.

They’d met in town and figured out a menu on the fly in the grocery store. Farah wanted to go all out, at least in the detective’s opinion. Apparently, their Southern tutor had also introduced the vampire to their hometown favorites. Bishop, however, kept the vampires’ oversensitivity in mind and planned to make sure to keep the flavors as natural and controlled as they could manage. They kind of hoped that the chocolate pièce de résistance might be the savior of the evening if the Cajun Gumbo went awry for some members of Unit Bravo—one in particular sprang almost instantly to mind.

Even with Farah’s easily distracted nature, it didn’t take the two of them long to get everything together. The rice was warming toward perfect doneness. The sauces were chilling. The flourless chocolate cakes were resting in what Bishop was sure had to be the safest hiding place. And the French bread was sliced nice and thin waiting for some the homemade garlic butter and a quick toasting in the oven. The two of them even managed to get most of the pots and pans cleaned and put back away.

As Bishop wiped down the counter, Farah cackled. The detective really wasn’t sure what they were talking about anymore, but their abs were killing them from laughing so much.

Noticing the wispy tendrils of smoke rising from the pan, Bishop nodded in Farah’s direction. “Pour that flour in there and stir it up.”

The flash of movement might have stopped the story for a second, but it picked back up as the oil sizzled with its fluffy addition.

“What’s this supposed to look like?” Farah asked.

“Wet sand,” Bishop told them, looking up to notice the intense nose wrinkle on Farah’s face.

Amber eyes blinked at them as if she was waiting for them to deliver a punchline.

“Don’t leave me hanging. What’d he say?”

Farah flashed a toothy smile and chuckled. “It just gets more wet when you lick it.”

Eyes closed in regret, Bishop’s head fell back with a shake.

“Can’t believe I’m the one that has to break it to you, but that’s how it’s supposed to work,” a low voice offered from the doorway to the hall.

Bishop’s chin dropped slowly and they swallowed at the sudden lump in their throat. Mason smirked and the detective tried not to think about the fact that he probably heard the gesture. At least they knew he couldn’t possibly hear the tingles that the sound of his voice shot down their spine. The way his keen gray eyes studied them made Bishop wonder if maybe they were wrong.

The spell broke when Mason sneered. “What the hell is that smell?” he asked Farah.

She shrugged.

“Yeah, figured this was going to go south,” Mason declared

“Oh, ye of little faith,” Bishop taunted with a sharp glare in Mason’s direction. No one criticized their cookery skills without literally eating their words.

“Whatever that is, it’s unsalvageable.”

“Bet,” Bishop shot back before Mason even finished the last syllable.

That got his attention. Mason straightened. “You’re on. Don’t think your science’ll save you now.”

“Shows what you know. That’s exactly cooking is, Agent.” Bish laughed knowingly. “Just delicious chemistry.”

“Uh, Bish,” Farah called.

The distinctly raw flour smell was venturing past toasty. Sliding up to their cooking assistant, Bish grabbed up a wooden spoon from the rest next to the stove and turned their furrowed brow and full attention to the roux. They’d made it like they usually did, forgetting that Farah wouldn’t be familiar with proper speed roux procedure. Mason’s hearty chuckle resounded off the tile surfaces with a smugness that Bish would not allow. There was no damn way they were going to lose this bet, and certainly not in the first two minutes.

Not a half a minute later, the roux was saved and another set of scrutinizing eyes manifested in the doorway. Adam’s jade gaze darted around the room like a chaperone at a high school dance. Bishop wondered if it was Farah’s remark or Mason’s that caught the unit commander’s attention and drew him toward the action as well.

“Still smells like chalk,” Mason noted. The click of his lighter being snapped open and closed repeatedly now echoed around the kitchen.

Bishop rolled their eyes then raised their hand to mimic a quaking duck with their slender fingers. “Yeah, you just keep talking. You’ll choke on every word.”

Mason chuckled at them, snapping the lighter closed and leaning forward to rest their elbows on their knees. The detective couldn’t look away if they’d wanted to. The silver finish of the lighter glinted in the low light as it twirled between Mason’s deft fingers. Their tongue darted out over their bottom lip and pulled it between their teeth. His wolfish grin and the toasty scent in the air pulled Bishop out of their trance.

Specialist Agent my ass. Troublemaker Supreme is far more accurate, Bishop thought. The roux, thankfully, was only at the strong cafe au lait stage. This time, they kept their full attention on the pan despite the fact that they could feel Mason’s keen gray eyes on them. It made their skin prickle.

“What are you making?” Adam asked.

Before Bishop even thought about answering, Farah hopped onto the counter and started detailing the planned menu. “Gumbo,” she answered in a sing-song tone.

“Chicken and sausage,” Bishop added as they stretched to reach a bowl brimming with roughly chopped vegetables.

“That’s the trinity,” Farah announced like a play by play announcer. “Green pepper, onion, and celery,” they counted each ingredient on a separate finger, “then comes the pulverized garlic.”

Neither Bishop nor Farah could recall that incident without a chuckle.

“What?” Adam asked.

Bish shook their head. “Nothing,” Farah said with a chuckle.

The veggies sizzled brightly as the detective scooped them into the pan. The chalky raw flour smell had dissipated and gone nutty and toasty. With the addition of the veg, the kitchen erupted in a lovely scent that Bishop could only describe as … green and distinctly Southern. It was one of those lovely mouthwatering scents that always made their stomach growl even if they weren’t the least bit hungry.

They were instantly aware of three pairs of eyes on them, which sparked a serious blush.

“What’s that … ?” Nate asked from the hall, rounding the corner. “Oh, Bishop. Did Farah rope you into this?”

A tiny shrug. “Not really roped.”

“Just wait,” Mason mumbled, his voice low and tantilizing. The image that sprang into Bishop’s head at the suggestion, just darkened the heat in their cheeks.

Adam shot a warning glaze across the kitchen.

Bishop was unphased, well that’s what they tried to tell themself despite the fact that they could feel their pulse beating it’s way through their jugular. It was one of the strangest things about working with vampire’s; they were far too aware of all the little things no one else could hope to notice unless they were looking really hard. And for all Bishop tried to control those little things, the effort just seemed to multiply the reaction.

Oh, right, broth, they thought grabbing the container they’d prepped for just this moment.

“Let me,” Farah said with another quick hop off the counter.

“Drizzle it. Slow,” Bishop said in a low guiding voice. They stirred tender vegetables careful not to splash any of the oil mixture out of the pan. “Stop for a sec.” After whisking the mixture smooth again, they gave Farah a nod for more. Back in their element, the detective’s full focus returned to the meal in the making.

“Surprised to find you down here,” Nate said quietly as he slipped into a chair at the table near Mason.

Adam crossed the room and stood near the window watching the night march against the retreating light of day.

“Why’s that?” Mason replied quietly over his shoulder.

“Why, indeed?” Nate asked, rhetorically as Mason’s attention returned to the human cooking for them. A little smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“You get the sausage,” Bish told Farah with a pat on the shoulder as they shifted past the young vampire as if they were in the middle of some song and dance. Grabbing a nearby plate, large chunks of delicately browned meat got drowned in the dark stew. It was a hectic choreography they had worked out somehow over the last few hours. The detective pulled the spoon out of the way and leaned back when Farah dropped the chunks of meat into the boiling mixture, which splashed out violently.

Mason tensed, relaxing again as soon as Bishop giggled.

“Hold up. Don’t be scared.” The detective took Farah’s hand and turned palm down over the pot. “Just open, low over the surface and you won’t get the splatter.”

Following the suggestion, Farah grinned. “Nice. Good to know.”

“Not sure I buy that,” Bishop said with a laugh of their own.

“I don’t know. A few more lessons and I might be able to cook dinner for you.”

The entire room erupted in laughter, except for Bishop, who slid an arm over Farah’s shoulder and pulled them close. “Good, because I hate cooking alone.”

That seemed to calm some of the giggles in the room, and reinforced Farah’s grin.

“Time to cover it?” Farah asked.

“Yep,” Bishop said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. When Farah moved from their side, Bish saw it. “Oh damn.”

“What?” several voices asked at the exclamation, far too worried over such a tiny irritation.

Bish blinked over their shoulder at them all. “Forgot the wine. Should have added it after the broth.”

Farah looked almost heartbroken.

Wedging the bottle between their thighs, Bishop started the corkscrew then noticed the forlorn look. “It’ll be fine. Just might need a few extra minutes is all.”

Relief showed on Farah’s face. Bishop still wasn’t sure why this all seemed like such a big deal to their friend, but they hoped to discover an explanation at some point. The cork came free with a resounding pop, and the detective wandered toward the stove giving the cork a slow wiff. Smells perfect.

All eyes remained on them when they tipped the bottle and drew several circles around the pan. Pulling the steam toward their face and taking another long sniff, they dashed another splash of wine into the pot. Then gestured for Farah to put the lid on.

“Adam, do you only drink reds?” Bish asked.

“Depends.”

With a nod, they walked across the kitchen and stretched on their tip toes to grab a wine glass from the display that hung them upside down so that no dust gathered in the glass. Careful not to fully tip the bottle, Bishop filled the glass a little more than halfway and held it out to the eldest of them.

“It’s a dry white, not sure if that’s your style.”

Adam took the glass and swirled it softly before raising it to his nose. Then he took a tentative sip. He gave a silent shrug in what Bishop could only hope was at least a modicum of approval. Still it brought a smile to there lips when he crossed back to his spot near the window with the stem pinched between his fingers.

Looking around the kitchen, it was kind of strange. The five of them just gathered in the kitchen together while dinner simmered. Bishop couldn’t help but recall visits to their gran’s when they were little. It felt like this. Smiles and giggles and talking and cooking. Wonderful smells and conversation. Then there was Mason and the way his eye moved over them.

“Still smell like chalk?” they taunted, leaning on the counter and staring right back at Mason.

“There’s still a hint of it in the air,” he replied too quickly.

Bishop was almost certain he said it just to get under their skin, but this was one arena where the detective’s confidence shone. “Give it an hour, and see if you can still say that.”

“An hour?” Farah crowed. “A whole hour?”

Bishop chuckled. “Believe me, it’s not that bad. And good things come to those who wait,” they added, their gazing flicking toward Mason for a second before Farah’s forehead landed against their shoulder with dramatic flair. Bishop patted her back in an attempt to soothe the impatience.

-2-

“Aren’t you meant to be helping me with coffee and dessert?” Bishop asked.

Mason’s chuckle tickled against the shell of their ear. “Who says I’m not?”

He shifted subtly behind them. With his body pressed against their back, they’d already lost count of the number of scoops of coffee they’d put in the pot—thrice. The detective couldn’t resist the feel of him, however, and leaned back against the firm plane of Mason’s chest. The hand on their hip flexed as the tip of his nose traced the length of Bishop’s carotid. They could feel every calm breath teasing against their thin sensitive skin.

It was maddening.

Dropping their head to the side served as a silent request for more of his attention. They really wanted him to kiss them, at least, though given the fact that Mason had managed to keep some kind of physical contact with them all through dinner, a sharp bite might prove more satisfying.

Either way, Mason denied them and brought his lips back to their ear. “Just how strong are you planning on making that?” he asked with a gutteral chuckle that shook down Bishop’s spine.

Without a doubt, Mason had to be able to hear the way their heart pounded in their chest, but with him so damnably close, he’d feel the shiver his voice sparked through their body, too. Bishop sighed in exasperation, both at themselves and Mason, as they lifted the filter out of the coffee pot for the second time.

Leaning back, they tipped their face toward their distraction. “Could you please, I beg of you, grab me the small plates, so that I can get this pot of coffee started?”

Mason stared at them for a long moment, letting his knuckles trace the line of Bishop’s jaw. When his hand spread out over the side of their neck, he kissed them. Bishop’s pleased hum reverberated through them as Mason deepened the kiss, his tongue flicking into the detective’s mouth in a tease before delving farther. He broke it sooner than Bishop would have preferred, stepping to the side and opening one of the cabinets just as Nate rounded the corner.

The detective’s short hair would do nothing to discuss the flush burning up their neck. No, it’d be completely obvious how worked up Mason had them moments before. Bishop’s eyes flicked in Mason’s direction as he stretched his lean body toward the high shelf. Bastard, they thought with a sly smile. He seemed completely unphased, meanwhile Bish could still feel the heat blazing even hotter in their cheeks and at the tips of their ears.

“Hey, you two.”

Mason just nodded with a low grunt, while Bishop emptied the overfilled coffee filter and placed it back into the coffee maker for yet another try.

“What can I do to help?” Nate offered, earning a curious glance from Mason.

Bishop’s attention was wholly focused on the coffee, finally able to get the right number of scoops measured out. “Um,” they thought as they closed the lid of the pot and flicked the button on. “I need the sauces in the bottles on the top shelf of the ice box.”

“Gotcha. Oh, and Mason, Adam needs you upstairs.”

That got his attention. He set a few plates near Bishop and let his hand brush across their hip before striding across the kitchen. A little spark shot through them, then the detective grabbed a small saucepan out of a cabinet, and filled it with water.

“Anything to worry about?” Bishop asked, curious about what he’d said.

Nate gave them a tiny grin and shook his head. “Farah was getting impatient. I figured maybe you could use a more helpful set of hands.”

The heat rushed to Bishop’s cheeks again, as they set the pan on the stove. “Sorry,” they said in a sheepish quiet tone and bit their bottom lip.

“No need to be,” Nate said. He bumped the refrigerator door closed with his elbow.

As he approached them, Bish grabbed one of the bottles and set it in the pan of water. “Thanks. But we both know I could exercise a bit more willpower.”

He chuckled at them. “True, but at the start of something it can be intense, especially with someone that prides himself on that particular trait.”

“That’s the truth,” Bishop agreed. That was the perfect word to describe Mason, they thought. They pulled a tray out of lower oven and set it on the counter. With considered care, they tapped a few of the giggly little cakes out of the ramakans they’d been baked in. Holding them carefully, Bish peeled the parchment paper off them.

“Like opening a gift,” Nate observed.

“A luxurious chocolaty one.”

“Best kind, depending on who you ask.”

Bishop chuckled. “I think so. But I didn’t want to make too many,” they explained as they set the cakes on the rack once again.

“Probably a good call.”

“Yeah, I noticed I was the only one that finished dinner.”

Nate bumped their shoulder with his elbow. “I thought it was wonderful. And the fact that you got Adam to even try it should feel like a victory in itself.”

That puffed Bishop up a little and they nodded. “And I was shocked that Mason tried it.”

“To be honest, I think that’s the first time I’ve seen him eat anything.”

Bishop didn’t say anything, couldn’t really. They weren’t sure what to make of that little revelation. Instead they grabbed the plates and set out seven of them. Popping back over to the stove, they lifted the bottle and swirled it around to distribute the heat more evenly and set it down once more.

“So, what are these?” Nate asked picking up the bottle with a reddish hue.

“Sauces,” they repeated, with a wide grin.

The vampire cast a look on them that read, smart ass.

“That’s a raspberry coulis. Just cooked them down with a bit of sugar and lemon zest and strained it to remove the seeds and fleshy bits.” Bishop winced at the turn of phrase; Nate didn’t seem distressed about it, so they let it go. “The tartness pairs beautifully with the chocolate. But it could be too intense.”

“Is that why you prepared three?”

Bish nodded, he’d figured out their plan. “A French pastry cream, very lightly sweetened. Just a nice creamy accompaniment.”

“And that?” Nate pointed at the pan in front of them.

They hissed in a breath through their teeth, still feeling a little guilty about this one. “This is a little self-indulgent favorite of mine. Bourbon caramel.”

“Oh?” Nate’s brows rose over his soft brown eyes.

Bishop smirked knowingly. “Want a taste?”

“Please.” The other bottle was set on the counter and Nate wandered over. When Bishop held their hand palm up with the index finger extended, Nate copied the action, and was rewarded with a warm strip of the sauce. He popped it into his mouth before it could ooze over the sides of his finger. The hum that rumbled in his chest drew a smile from the chef.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” they laughed, giving the bottle another swirl in the water.

Nate darted across the kitchen and back in the blink of an eye. He leaned one hand on the edge of the counter holding out a spoon, and Bishop couldn’t hold back their grin or their laughter. But they did lift the bottle once more and fill the tablespoon until the caramel started to dome.

“Vampire with a sweet tooth, huh?”

With the spoon already in his mouth, Nate could do little more than give them a crooked smile and a shrug.

Bishop snapped the dial on the stove to off and crossed back to the cakes and plates. On two, a little ocean of red filled the bottom of the plate before being topped with a perfect little chocolate confection. Two more cakes received healthy crowns of the cream. The last three plates each got a turn on the rack where Bishop drizzled them with lines of caramel, before setting the cake atop it. Then a few more thin lines fluttered over the delicate desserts.

“Maybe you should have made more,” Nate suggested, having watched the display intently.

“I did. But I figured that this might be best to start. Wouldn’t want them to go to waste.”

Nate nodded, but gave the detective an incredulous look; they couldn’t help but wonder if they wouldn’t be taking any of the cakes back home with them. “I’ll get the coffee and the cups.”

“I’ll get these.” Bishop had waited tables in high school and college and was more than capable of lining the plates up perfectly, but before they got two situated, Nate set a lovely dark wood tray on the counter near them. “Much safer.”

“Especially in this house.”

The two of them chuckled quietly as they loaded their respective trays with goodies. Bishop doubted any of the cakes, except the one plate she made for herself would get more than two bites taken out of it, if that many. They weren’t offended. On the contrary, the fact that Unit Bravo, who had no need for typical human food any longer, had tried anything they cooked made them feel proud, and a little more welcome in a way.

“Do you know why Farah did this?” Bishop asked once they’d placed the spoons and napkins on the corner of the tray.

Nate stopped near them and gave a little shake of their head. “I really don’t. But for one, I’m really glad she did.”

“Me, too,” the detective agreed. They’d have to remember to let Farah know. Maybe they’d find a really fun way to thank her.

#TWC fanfiction #Farah Hauville #Nate Sewell #Agent Mason #Adam du Mortain #Detective Bishop Ripley Vasquez #Falling for Farah's Framejob #Don't @me I know how out of sync the premise of this is #But Bish loves to cook you can't change my mind #And Farah is devious and amazing #Food and cooking #Friendship #Relationship Building #Mutual Pining #Flirting

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a-froger-epic · 4 years ago

Note

What are your top 5 favorite angst moments in fics by other people

Thanks for resending the ask! The original one seems to be stuck in Tumblr limbo.

This was so hard. I literally just spent 45min going through my bookmarks and I could point you to some people's entire fic catalogues or entire fics without being able to pic a single scene in particular because they have so much delicious angst. (Yeah, I'm looking at you @aboutnothingness and @freddieofhearts and @i-lay-my-life-before-queen's Omegaverse Froger, or also @immistermercury's Jimercury ballet!Freddie epic and really several oneshots by some of my favourite authors in their entirety.)

But. I had to choose. So here are, in no particular order, some scenes:

---

Princes of the Universe by @tikiniki

Sci-fi AU. John saves Prince Freddie's life. 😰

Then, through the screams and gunfire, John heard Roger’s voice.

“John, Freddie! Watch out!”

And John spun around, just in time to see Roger throw himself towards Kassius, Kassius who had his gun raised and aimed at Freddie’s back.

His breath caught in John’s chest. Roger wouldn’t be fast enough.

He wasn’t.

The release of the bullet from Kassius’s gun disappeared in the rest of the noise. John acted on instinct.

He was barely conscious of moving at all. He barely noticed shoving Freddie to the side as hard as he could. He didn’t hear the surprised outcry leaving Freddie’s mouth.

But he felt it. Felt when the bullet pierced his chest.

The force of the bullet made him stumble back. He tried to draw a breath, tried to make a sound, but all was white-hot pain. The next second the guards were upon them. John was shoved in the chaos, his knees buckling beneath his weight.

Unable to catch himself, he fell over the edge of the pool.

Just before he breached the surface, he heard it.

The sound of voices crying out his name.

He smiled as he hit the water.

---

Aftercare by @bisexualroger

Freddie got mugged. 🥺

There’s an alien quality to the mirror, despite the fact that Freddie uses it every day and has done for months now. Perhaps it’s not the object itself that’s unfamiliar, but rather what it’s reflecting, the offending image subsequently contaminating the rest of the room with its strangeness. Lucky for him though; if the face in front of him registered as his own it might be too much for him to handle. Today’s been difficult enough without having to fully acknowledge the physical consequences of his earlier misfortune.

Freddie leans closer to the glass. The sight makes his lip tremble and his hands shake, but he swallows down his distress and reminds himself to view it objectively. It’s not his face, just a problem that needs to be fixed.

Taking another deep breath he tries again to go in with the cotton wool pad. Slippery with alcohol the cheap fabric desperately wants to slide out of his hand, but he keeps his grip steady as he brings it to his face. Immediately though the burning sting has him wincing. He tries to hold his nerve but the pain only intensifies, making his eyes prickle so he can no longer see what he’s doing. With a stifled cry of frustration he tosses the wool down into the sink and slides to the floor.

Once there his first instinct is to curl in on himself, but the pain in his ribs prevents him from doing so, which only makes matters worse. He’s been at this for fifteen bloody minutes, and much as he wants to shout and rage at the unfairness of it all his anger is infuriatingly manifesting itself through tears rather than determination. For goodness sake all he wants to do is have a hot shower and forget the entirety of this awful day, but he can’t until he’s dealt with this. It’s so agonisingly unjust.

---

The Path of Nevermore by @plainxte

Things are complicated. *sings* Give me one night only, one night only... 😭

"Yeah. I should probably head out," Roger said, looking around him. He was sure there was somewhere that he had promised to be that day.

"Please, Rog," Freddie said. "Don't go. Don't leave me alone. I mean. Don't send me to the path," Freddie said.

Roger turned to him with a smile. It quickly faded when he studied the look on Freddie's face: he was completely serious, and there was no hint of amusement in his eyes. He meant it, Roger realised. When Freddie said nothing more, just continued to look at him, it finally hit him what Freddie was saying. The seriousness of what he was asking.

"Of course I won't leave you," Roger whispered. "You know that. I wouldn't. But you know I can't, I can't – "

Freddie carefully lifted one hand, putting it hesitantly on his cheek, only just touching. His fingertips ghosted over Roger's cheekbone. "I know," he said. "And that's not what I meant. And I can't, either. But just for now. Please don't go. Please."

Roger took a breath. His thoughts were getting no clearer; if anything, his whole head seemed to be in a fog. He wasn't thinking; he couldn't think. He could only nod. Freddie leaned closer, and Roger closed his eyes. After what seemed like an age, he felt soft lips touch his. He reached up his own hand to Freddie's face, skimming over his jaw to come to a rest in his hair.

"And about time, too," he breathed.

---

Sobering Up by... oh whoops, it seems their tumblr was deleted or changed names. Well, nevermind, I still love this fic so much.

Roger and Freddie don't know how to deal. 💔

They lie there afterwards, stewing in a pregnant silence. Normally, sex put Roger right to sleep but this… he was unable to wrap his head around any of it.

He rolled over to lie on his stomach away from Freddie. He took a pillow and clenched it tightly in his arms, pressing his face deeply into it. Some animal instinct was telling him if he squeezed hard enough then the painful sickening swirl of emotions in his chest might ebb away.

Freddie softly cleared his throat. “Rog,”

“Hm?” Roger feigned sleepiness. He didn’t feel like having any kind of pillow talk.

“What…” Freddie faltered. “What do you think the future has in store for us?” Roger felt his heart seize up.

“What’d you mean ‘us’?” His voice was muffled in his pillow, but it didn’t mask the cracking on the last syllable. He heard Freddie make a sharp intake of breath.

“Queen.” He said. “What do you think we’ll be like in the future? D’you think we’ll make it?”

Roger was quiet at first. Freddie wasn’t the type to avoid the elephant in the room like this.

“Dunno,” Roger sighed, still clinging tightly to his pillow. “But I won’t stick around if there are better places to be.”

“Are there better places to be?” Freddie’s feigned curiosity did nothing to hide the anxiety in his voice. And it dawned on Roger that they weren’t going to talk about the sex. They were never going to talk about it. It had happened and that was all. It was too big, much too big, for either of them to face. This was Freddie’s way of asking if Roger was okay with that.

Roger didn’t exactly feel relief at this revelation. Somehow he felt like he had given Freddie a much more intimate part of himself than he had given any other partner. And the seriousness of that weighed heavily on him. Nothing would be the same for him again. But it had to be.

---

On the side of a hill, a sprinkling of leaves by @quirkysubject

Freddie falls in a puddle and can't get up (also this scene is way too long to quote all of it, but like THIS WHOLE SCENE MAN 😭💕)

“Jesus, Fred, are you alright?” Hands are on his back, his shoulders, trying to urge him up. Oh, how Freddie wishes Roger would just leave him alone (liar, the warm and tiny and inextinguishable gleam of hope inside him whispers).

“Fine,” he mumbles as he lies face down in the mud, waiting, praying for the earth to swallow him up.

“Freddie, come on, get up.” The hands tug a little harder. And then, when Freddie just shakes his head, Roger’s hands slide under his armpits, and he is hauled upright with a frustrated, “What the hell’s the matter with you?”

It’s this that does it. All ability to contain himself evaporates.

“I hate this so much!”

The words explode out of him. He can hear how his voice sounds, shrill, pathetic, whiny. Useless. But he can’t stop himself. “I hate everything about this. My ankle hurts and my arm hurts and I want proper tea with milk, and a bath, and my bed, and Tom and Jerry, and a slice of toast that is actually toasted and I… I just want to go home.”

It’s a small mercy that he can blame any wetness on his cheeks on the rain. Not that it will do him much good. He is throwing a tantrum at the worst possible moment, and Roger is going to do what he always does when Freddie is being unreasonable - walk out, have a smoke, come back an hour or two later when the storm has blown over.

Only if he leaves now, Freddie will melt into the ground and never come up again.

---

A special mention goes to a Doctor Who fic which is probably my favourite angsty fic of all time, because even though I'm not active in the Who fandom right now, I'm still Doctor/Master trash. And Locked in Orbit by @nicolauda (I think this is yours? Correct me if wrong) is one of the best goddamn pieces of writing with that ship that exist for me.

#Fic recs #Angsty moments #ask response #Phew that was hard

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siinclairs · 4 years ago

Text

shiloh sinclair has made it a point not to date. to put it simply and crudely, he preferred fucking around, and if he was sneaky enough, he didn’t really have to give that up, even if by some act of witchcraft or voodoo he found himself in a relationship. he doesn’t know how morgan got him into a relationship with her -- he quite literally cannot remember ever asking her to be his girlfriend; his tongue didn’t even know how to form those syllables -- and he always assumed it was either a drunken agreement or something that was just assumed after the constant months they’d spent together, but shiloh was on his sixth month of being morgan’s boyfriend by the time he’d had enough. really, it was earlier than that, if he reflects on it. their first fight had been nasty and cutting and happened one month into dating. he cheated on her the following day, with some girl in one of his general classes that didn’t mean much more to him than a few sighs and curled toes, and kept it up with other girls throughout their relationship. he wouldn’t even be surprised if morgan was cheating on him, too -- after the honeymoon phase, they were constantly more cold than hot with each other, texts sometimes left unanswered for hours and eye rolls accompanying them alongside every late-night diner date or library study session. they fought often and meanly, he sometimes got tense seeing her in the crowd of his games, and a month ago she said she hated him.

his teammates always ask why they hadn’t broken up yet. reid constantly asks because he’s tired of morgan eating all their shit in the fridge. shiloh just shrugs and laughs out a pathetic ‘cause she’d fucking murder me if i tried to break up with her each time. truth was, for someone as big and bad as he was, he could never figure out how to go about it.

but he’d had enough when they got into a fight earlier that friday morning. morgan had been over just to chill -- they were literally just supposed to chill; shiloh had a paper he needed to write and morgan was always passive-aggressively retweeting emo shit about wanting a partner she could do nothing with. but three paragraphs in and she was nagging about something stupid, shiloh’s jaw tightened in the way it’d come accustomed to whenever he was around her, he snapped out a rude response, and five minutes later she’s yelling at him at the top of her lungs, and shiloh’s knocking his lamp on the ground in explosive anger.

imagine if she knew about alex.

shiloh knew, maybe rather lamely on his part, that his girlfriend and his best friend didn’t get along all that well. he’d thought they’d be able to mesh, considering that they were both on the same fucking cheerleading squad with each other ( ’cause if you can let a girl sink her dirty keds into your palms as you hold her up, then surely you can fucking handle some small talk, or so he thought ), but he’s known alex long enough to be able to pick up on even the most minuscule signs of how she was feeling. when morgan suddenly slid into shiloh’s booth when he and alex were in the dining hall together, the tip of alex’s mouth would always twitch twice. when he was hanging out with alex and morgan caught wind and yelled at him through the phone until shiloh was leaving with an eye roll and a snappy response into his receiver, alex bit at the inside of her cheek.

morgan firmly believes shiloh’s trying to cheat on her with alex. she only got one part right of that equation. shiloh would always tell her that no, he wasn’t, because they were just friends, that’s all they ever were, but she’d insist that there was something going on between the two of them. he could never understand where she’d got that from.

and then he and alex almost kissed. for the second time. he was actively trying not to dwell on it.

point is, shiloh had broken up with morgan that evening, and he was still on edge and ticked off from the aftershocks of her earthquake. and maybe going to alex’s room to vent, to stay silent, to just see her wasn’t smart, and morgan would probably try and twist his arm and yell that she was right this entire time if she knew, but he didn’t care. he and alex had already been weird lately with their friendship, constant weeks spent together dwindled down to text messages and maybe one movie night here or there, so maybe this was a stilted time for him to seek alex out, but shiloh didn’t fucking care. best friends still or not, he’d already stewed enough and threw enough things in his room, and he just wanted to be around alex, to feel calm for the first time in half a year in the way only she could placate him. that’s how this night would go, right ?

shiloh knocked on alex’s door, tense stance from his day. when the door opened, he lifted a newly purchased dvd copy of disney’s penguin documentary. “ hey. wanna’ watch this ? ”

@littlcstwing

#ITS AU TIME BABYYYY #i'm assuming this is junior year???#it can also be senior

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notebook-13 · 5 years ago

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About Uraraka

She has a flip-phone:

And a polka-dotted handbag to stash it in:

Her phone is pale pink, but her purse was omitted in the anime, so we don’t know what colors it is.

To activate her quirk on herself, she does the reverse of her quirk-release gesture:

Her thumbs touch her pinkies, and so forth. You can see a gif of it here on the bottom left.

She VERY often holds her hands in fists:

In ordinary conversation…

To pump herself up…

When she’s nervous, low down protecting her stomach…

When she’s upset, she tends to fist her hands in her clothes (which probably activates her quirk) or hold one fist to her chest.

And when she’s excited or happy…

Once you notice it, you’ll see it EVERYWHERE.

She cups her cheeks in her hands when she’s embarrassed:

She also does this from (Bakugou-induced) secondhand embarrassment.

She puts a hand on the back of her head when she feels awkward:

She waves her hands around while flustered:

Oops!!

She also grits her teeth a lot:

^^ Like when she’s determined.

^^ Or when she’s scared.

She has a self-conscious tic where she pokes her fingers together in a way similar to her quirk’s release gesture:

^^ She also tends to stand with her hands tucked behind her back when she’s on her best behavior:

^^ On day 1 of school and the dekusquad is brand new.

^^ When Uraraka has an internship offer with Gunhead, but none of her friends have received an internship offer.

^^ Trying not to act weird around her crush.

She often sits with her hands resting on her knees:

though ofc this isn’t possible when she’s sitting at a table.

Ungraceful laughter sometimes bursts out of her:

(commonly at Iida’s expense, it seems)

When she’s stressed, she tries to put a casual face on it:

Maybe because as a kid she lived with seeing her parents’ strained, exhausted faces every day, and she doesn’t want to give anyone the burden of seeing her own.

And when she’s actively hiding something, she does it with gusto:

She will Fight The Awkward.

But speaking of awkward, Uraraka tends to blurt what’s on her mind:

To Aizawa, about the quirk assessment test…

When Iida lost the class election for president…

Yelling at Aizawa again. She’s really bold, but commonly by accident.

It’s been a while since she last did it, though, so maybe she’s growing out of it or she just hasn’t been in the plot enough.

She inherited her dark aura face from her parents:

Uraraka thinks working hard is really cool:

Maybe because, as someone who’s not particularly gifted and hasn’t had a privileged upbringing, Uraraka gets by on effort and passion. None of this, ‘oh I’m too cool to care’ garbage in her house. …except when it comes to her crush on Deku, apparently.

But, initially, how much effort she put into hero training correlated to positive or negative consequences, not about trying hard for the sake of trying hard:

(Monoma, too, is explicitly noted by All Might and Aizawa for this flaw—simply caring about outcomes isn’t the same as striving to be the best, all the time, in everything.)

But seeing everyone else try so hard in the Sports Festival, not for the sake of an internship or any gain but just because, makes her feel unsure about how she pursues good results.

So, early on, Uraraka consciously rejects the role of a supporting character who does the easiest thing for the best results:

And she tries to become the main character by copying the real main character:

“…then how can I hope to be a hero who saves All Might?”

After all, Nighteye predicts Midoriya’s death, and Uraraka tries to smash past that future…but.

“If I couldn’t save Nighteye, then how can I hope to save Deku next time?”

She decides to adopt a supporting role after all:

(p much the definition of a supporting character: someone who helps the heroes.)

…though it miiiight not be that simple, because, during the Class A v B fight, soon after she reveals her decision to the audience…

Monoma monologues to her about how copying multiple people, instead of just one, makes him versatile, and he warns her that the effects of copying someone linger and are latent even when not consciously activated.

He tops it off with this.

Uraraka believes it’s her nature to uplift people and relieve them of their burdens:

(aka, zero gravity)

She saw that her parents were unhappy –> she saw that heroes make people happy –> she decided to become a hero.

^^ But when it’s in a person’s nature, it’s difficult to do in moderation…especially with Deku to measure herself against.

Uraraka is becoming more rash:

One of the ways Deku identifies Toga as an impostor is because he knows Uraraka would have planned ahead instead of impulsively rushing in.

But, a few chapters later…

She nearly fails the provisional licensing exam because she rushes in. And…

Uraraka has not had an “origin” chapter.

The closest she comes is ch212, “That Which Is Inherited, Part 2,” which begins with a flashback of her childhood establishing that she decided to become a hero because heroes make people happy. “That Which Is Inherited, Part 1″ begins with a flashback of Monoma’s, where he talks about the misfortune of being cast in a supporting role, not the starring one.

Toga intuits that Uraraka is someone who is depended on:

Meaning, someone who supports others…

…and Uraraka also has a complex about Hatsume:

(From the Support Course.)

Horikoshi felt like a genius when he came up with her name.

The moment when I came up with her name was the first time in my manga career when I thought myself a true genius. It’s such a nuanced name.

Editor’s note: Her name literally means “tea-girl pretty-day,” with her last name being a homophone with one way to say “beautiful.”

Her name functions as a pun so that some of her classmate will tell her, “You don’t look so Uraraka today, Uraraka!” (meaning, “you don’t look so good (like yourself) today”).

But there could be more to it, because Uraraka’s name and hero name contain the “ura” syllable shared by words meaning “something hidden from view” “to betray” and so forth.

She wants to live up to the faith placed in her:

Uraraka grew up with parents who believed in her and encouraged her to chase her dreams—unlike Deku. But, like him, she feels great motivation+pressure to repay everyone who’s believed in her by succeeding. To let someone down (*cough* zero gravity?) is one of her biggest fears.

She’s a bakudeku fan!

She sometimes imitates Iida’s robot arms 😂 ❤️

She loves to eat:

(probably because she limits her eating to save money)

“Lunch! Lunch!”

She’s on the lefthand couch. Jirou is patting her back!!

She’s very impressed by the quality of UA’s dorms:

Uraraka adores Eri:

^^ gonna casually slide in there, like a normal person.

She will sometimes sleep with her arms spread out:

she also seems to breathe through her mouth.

…and her bedhead is really cute:

#bnha #bnha meta #uraraka ochako #ochaco uraraka #uraraka characterization #uraraka development #body language #I kind of went off on uraraka and monoma here whoops #that was not the plan #I might have to make a separate post for them #but besides that I'm not sure what I'll write next…#I'm like halfway done with posts for toga and aoyama #and I'm trying to put dabi off until we get more content about him in the current chapters #bnha manga spoilers #no.13 #how many times do I have to tell myself to keep things short??#sigh

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glumblr · 4 years ago

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ARABIC ESSENTIAL GRAMMAR #3 - Verb Roots and Forms - وزن

Okay! A longer post this time but learning about the verb forms and roots and their وزن (wazan) or “weighting” is important for future posts in terms of conjugation!

This system of verbs is something vital to Arabic and while it was hard to get my head around at first, it ended up being one of my favourite aspects of the language. Ask me or Message me any questions you have and I’ll do my best to answer!

First off, let’s talk ROOTS!

Arabic verbs generally follow a “CaCaCa” pattern, where “C” is a consonant and “a” is a vowel. e.g. kataba (to write) = KaTaBa.

The root of a verb is taking the 3 consonants that form the verb, so in kataba, the root is k, t, b, or in Arabic - ك ت ب

These are called trilateral verbs. There are some quadrilateral verbs but I will focus on them in a seperate post!

Try it out - tell me what the root is for the following verbs:

1. سفر - safara (to travel)

2 . نزل - nazala (to descend)

3. فعل - faa3la (to do) (btw a3 corresponds to the letter “ع”)

Wazan?? what’s that

The wazan is literally the “weighting” of the roots. The wazan determines the emphasis placed on the word and the addition of other elements - there are 15 different forms of wazan and each one corresponds to a different nuance or meaning ( though 11-15 are pretty rarely used)

What does this mean in practice?

Basically the same root letters can be fit into different forms and this can alter the meaning slightly. However , the root letters tend to carry some sort of relation (e.g. words that are formed from safara will have something to do with travel or movement, even in different forms).

In tables, the forms are usually represented by the verb “faa3la” but if you want to know what it would be for another verb, you substitute the root letters into the form.

The verbs above were all in form one and in past tense, which is a simple 3 syllable fa-a3-la. The form will also affect how the verb is pronounced and emphasised in the present tense.

Okay , let’s get into the forms.

VERB FORMS!!

Don’t get stressed when you see this verb form chart! It looks confusing but that is because it gives you not only the verb in its 10 forms in past (perfect tense, as the verbs above) but also in present ( the imperfect tense) , passive participle , active participle, the imperative and the verbal noun! YES, ALL are affected by the form in which the root consonants are in!

I know that can sound overwhelming but once you get used to it, it makes it a dream to guess a word’s meaning and to instantly change a word into the active participle , for instance imagine you didn’t know the word for dancer, but you did know the verb “to dance” - using the verb forms, you can easily figure out how to say “dancer” - the active participle, without having learnt the word separately! It makes communication and vocabulary acquisition a lot easier imo!

For this week, let’s focus on the far right column - that is, the verb forms in perfect active - this is what you use for basic singular masculine past tense e.g. kataba = he wrote.

Form I = فعل/ fa-a3-la

this form expresses the general meaning of the root consonants - e.g. 3a - ma- la = to work (عمل)

Form II = فعّل /fa-33a-la

This form builds on Form I by doubling the second consonant with a shadda

In terms of meaning, Form II usually adds a causative quality to the meaning, causing something to happen.

e.g. darasa (درس) (F1) = to study

but darassa (درّس) (F2) = to teach

Sometimes it has the intensive function.

jama3a ( جمع ) (F1) means "to collect, gather";

jamma3a(جمّع ) (F2) means "to amass, to accummulate"

Form III = فاعل /faa-3a-la

Builds on Form I by adding an alif after the first consonant, thus elongating the vowel.

In terms of meaning, Form III describes someone doing the act in question or doing it to someone else.

e.g. 3amala (عمل ) (F1) = to work

but 3aamala (عامل) (F3) = to treat or deal with sb.

Form IV = أفعل / af-3a-la

Builds on Form I by adding an alif before the first consonant, connecting it with with a sukoon.

Meanings-wise, it is similar to Form II, in that it is usually the causative of form one.

e.g. kharaja (خرج) (F1) = to leave , exit

but akhraj (أخرج) (F4) = to expel, evict

Form V = تفعّل / ta-fa-33a-la

Builds on Form II by adding the prefix ta (ت) to the form 2 verb.

Often a reflexive form of the FII verb, and often intransitive.

e.g. kharraja (خرّج) (F2) = to graduate (sb.)

but takharraja (تخرّج) (F5) = to graduate

Can sometimes be an intensive of F1 verbs -

jama3a ( جمع ) (F1) means "to collect, gather";

but tajamma3a ( تجمّع) (F5) means “to congregate, gather together”.

Form VI = تفاعل / ta-faa-3a-la

Builds on Form III by adding the prefix ta (ت) to the form 3 verb.

Usually a reflexive of the form 3 verb.

3aamala (عامل) (F3) = to treat or deal with sb.

but ta3aamala (تعامل) (F6) = to deal with each other

Form VII = انفعل / in-fa-3a-la

adds to the Form I form of the verb by adding the prefix ان (in)

Usually a reflexive / passive of the form 2 verb

e.g. qaTa3a (قطع ) (F1) = to cut

but inqaTa3a (انقطع) (F7) = to cut off; abstain from

Form VIII = افتعل / if-ta-3a-la

Builds on Form 4 by adding “ta” after the first root letter, and having the alif join with a kasra as opposed to a fatha ( ifta3la as opposed to afta3ala)

a reflexive version of the form 1 verb -

jama3a ( جمع ) (F1) means "to collect, gather";

but ijtama3a (اجتمع) 9) (F8) means “to meet, agree upon”

sometimes it has a specially derived meaning from a form 1 verb-

ba3ada (بعد) (F1) = to be far away

but ibta3ada ( ابتعد) = to avoid

Form IX = افعلّ / if-3al-la

This is generally only used in relation to colours

e.g the letters ح ، م . ر are the root letters associated with redness

if you substitute the فعل in the wazn with these root letters, you get احمرّ (ahmarra) (F9) which means “to become Red”.

FINALLY, FORM X = استفعل = is-taf-3a-la

Built on Form1 by adding the prefix ‘ist’ and adding ta in between the first and second radicals ( the ‘t” in ist) which links to the fa with a sukoon (creating “taf”)

A “considerative” form of the Form I verb - it gives the meaning of “ to consider or to deem someone to have the quality” of the Form I verb. This can sound confusing so here’s an example -

ba3ada (بعد) (F1) = to be far away or distant

but istab3ada (استبعد) (F10) = to consider sth/sb remote or unlikely.

It could also give the meaning of “to request or seek x for yourself” , where x is the quality of the Form I verb.

e.g. 3amala (عمل ) (F1) = to work

but ist3amala (استعمل) (F10) = to use , put into operation

Phew! Good on you for making it this far. I know this sounds super long and convoluted, but forms are a really interesting and useful aspect of Arabic language and they are NECESSARY! In the future, when I post about conjugating , or passive, or verbal nouns, the rules will depend on their form!

I highly recommend you practice figuring out what form a verb is, and what the root letters are. Then you could look for verbs in other forms , but with the same root letters and see how that affects the meaning! This will help you get a better grip on the concept of forms, as well as help you memorise their patterns quicker!

Credits to https://arabic.desert-sky.net/g_vforms.html for the detailed info on forms and the examples! I never got to learn them in this detailed way ( I learnt by speaking more than textbooks) so this was a good revision exercise for me as well!

Thank you for reading and see you next week!!

#Arabic langblr #arabic language #arabic studyblr #arabic grammar #arabic essential grammar #guide to grammar #arabic essential grammar guide #glumberland #arabic #arabic verbs #verb forms #revision #Arabic grammar guide

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chaoticdisater · 4 years ago

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Red white & royal Blue Favourite quotes

“How many times do I have to tell Y’all not to discuss your murder plots in front of a sitting president” their mother interrupts “Plausible deniability. Come on” (Pg 64)

I don't know WHO you think you're kidding, you Hufflepuff-ass bitch, (Alex to henry over text pg 69)

“‘put the turkeys in my room’ ‘No.’ ‘put them in my room, put them in my room, put them in my room -’ later that night as Alex stares into the cold pitiless eyes of a prehistoric beast of prey, he has a few regrets” (Alex and his mother Pg 76)

“’he- Oi! Not for you Mr.wobbles! those are mine!’ more rustling and a distant offended Meow, ‘no, Mr. wobbles you bastard!’” (Henry at his sister's cat, pg 80)

“Dec 8, 2019, 8:53 PM yo there's a bond marathon on and did you know your dad was a total babe HRH prince Dickhead I BEG YOU TO NOT “ (Henry and Alex over text Pg 84)

“’ the options Id like...’ he says dragging the words out. ‘they don't quite seem to be options at all’” (Henry Pg 107)

“’ christ you're a thick as it gets’ he says and he grabs Alex's face in both hands and kisses him.” (Henry Pg 107)

“‘Seventy-eight percent probability of latent Bi-sexual tendencies. one hundred percent probability this is not a hypothetical question’” (Nora pg 118)

“‘am I? do you think I'm Bi?’ ‘I can't tell you that Alex!’ she says ‘that's the whole point!’” (Alex and Nora Pg121)

“she slants a look at him ‘is this a diabolical scheme of seduction?’ she asks ‘if so, yes.’“ (Nora Pg 130)

“Alex knocks the candelabra off the table next to them and pushes henry onto it so hes sitting with his back against - Alex looks up and almost breaks into a deranged laugh - a portrait of alexander hamilton.” (Pg 132)

“‘im going to die’ henry says helplessly. ‘im going to kill you,’ Alex tells him.” (Henry and Alex pg 133)

‘”and if you fucking ghost me again, I'm going to get you put on a fucking no-fly list. got it’” (Alex at henry pg 134)

“worst of all, Henry is good“ (Alex's thoughts on henry playing Polo Pg 147)

“’I’m gonna go, Uh’ Alex says ‘say hi to henry’ Amy's mouth settles into a grim line ‘Please don't elaborate’ ‘Yeah I know’ Alex says ‘plausible deniability’” (Alex and Amy Pg 148)

‘A <[email protected]> to Henry his royal highness prince of whatever, Don't make me learn your actual title’ (Alex’s email to henry Pg 152)

‘Henry <[email protected]> to A Alex, first son of inappropriately timed Emails when I’m in early morning meetings’ (Henry’s email to Alex Pg 155)

“when he shows up to a briefing two days later Zahra grabs his jaw with one hand and turns his head, peering closer at the side of his neck. ‘is that a Hickey’ Alex freezes. ‘I . . . um, no?’” (Zahra and Alex pg 162)

“‘Do you have a last name?’ Alex has never actually offered a greeting when calling Henry ‘What?’ the usual bemused elongated one-syllable response” (163 Alex and henry over the phone)

“‘Baby’ its become a thing: Baby he knows it’s become a thing. hes slipped up and accidentally said it a few times, and each time, Henry positively melts” (Alex Pg 166)

“‘I miss you,’ Alex says before he can stop himself he instantly regrets ut but henry says. ‘I miss you too’” (pg 173)

“she flung her arm out emphatically enough to upset an entire potted cactus on her dresser and says ‘Because until now you weren't fucking the prince of England’” (June pg 177)

“‘you should try saying some of that stuff to Him’ ‘stop trying to Jane Austen my life’” (June and Alex Pg 180)

“’ is now a good time to point out henrys very hot Very rich best friend is basically in love with you?’ Alex says to June ‘hes like some kind of billionaire genius manic-pixie-dream philanthropist. I feel like you would be into that.’ ‘Please shut up,’” (Alex and June Pg 182)

“‘yes, yes, Pez, we know there's nothing you cant do,’ says henrys voice off-camera ‘no need to rub it in’“ (henry Pg 184)

“‘oh I haven't had vodka since uni,’ henry says ‘it tends to make me erm, well-’ ‘flamboyant?’ Pez offers. ‘uninhibited? randy?’ ‘Fun?’ Bea suggests ‘Excuses you, I am loads of fun all the time! I am a Delight’“ (Henry Bea and Pez pg 190)

“’yes Beatrice, we shall behave in a manner befitting the crown,’ henry says. his eyes are slightly crossed ‘don't be a tosser’“ (Henry and bea Pg 195)

“He likes taking henry apart but there's something incredibly intantament about sitting on the bed they wrecked the night before, the only one who watches him create Prince Henry of Wales for the day.” (Pg 200)

“‘So this is the gang now, huh?’ and through it all, Alex realizes with a start: he has friends now.” (Cash pg 201)

“How is a man to get anything done knowing Alex Claremont-Diaz is out there on the loose?” (Henrys email to Alex pg 203)

“yours in sexual frustration Henry” (henrys email to Alex pg 206)

“once again, how had he ever convinced himself he was straight,” (Alex pg 213)

“‘just so we’re clear,’ Alex said ‘Im about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family. Like that's what's happening?’“ (Alex pg 217)

“your Brave I could use some of that” (Pg 218)

“Because that's what he would do if he were here in this palace to fall in love Henry” (Pg 220)

“Zahra doesnt even look up from her phone ‘that was my boyfriend and no, you may not ask me any further questions about him’” (Zahra Pg 223)

“If he’s some anonymous normal person removed from history he’s twenty-two and he’s tipsy and he’s pulling a guy into his hotel room by the belt loop. He’s pulling a lip between his teeth and he fumbling behind his back to switch on a lamp and he’s thinking I like this person” (Pg 228)

“You still are. Because you still bloody care so much.” He leans down and presses a kiss into Alex’s hair. “And you are good. Most things are awful most of the time but you’re good” (Henry Pg 230)

“’Seriously?’ She hisses ‘your literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state who is a man at the biggest political event before the election in a hotel full of reporters in a city full of cameras in a race close enough to fucking hinge on some bullshit like this like a manifestation of my fucking stress dreams and you’re asking me not to tell the president about it?’” (Zarha pg 233)

“The next slide is titled EXPLORING YOUR SEXUALITY: HEALTHY BUT DOES IT HAVE TO BE WITH THE PRINCE ENGLAND? she apologizes for not having time to come up with better titles Alex activity wishes for the sweet release of death” (Pg 237)

“History huh? I bet we could make some.” (Alex’s email to henry Pg 241)

“The pair of you share and an alarming number of traits by the by: passionate determination, never knowing when to shut up, &c &c,” (herny’s email to Alex Pg 242)

“Regards Haplessly romantic heretic prince henry the utterly daft” (henrys email to Alex pg 243)

“‘It’s math,’ Nora says ‘Math has no authority here,’ June tells her ‘Math is everywhere June’” (Nora and June Pg 247)

“Henry is tipsy and shirtless and attempting to referee” (pg 252)

“’Some times you just jump and hope it’s not a chiff’” (Alex dad Pg 256)

“Well, Alex is so in love he could die.” (Pg 257)

“He’s been falling in love with Henry for years probably since he first saw him in glossy print on the pages of j14 almost definitely since Henry pinned Alex to the floor of a medical supply closet and told him to shut the hell up.” (Pg 257)

“’Fuck off five nine is average’” (Pg 258)

“’H?’ He whispers ‘you awake?’ Henry sighs ‘always.’” ( Pg 260)

“He’s got a distinct feeling of something being pulled out of his hands right before he could grasp it.” (Pg 263)

“something rises in Alex's throat - anger, confusion, hurt, bile. Unforgivably, he feels like he might cry” (Pg 270)

“’Fuck I swear you don’t make it fucking easy but I’m in love with you’” (Alex Pg 271)

“’I never thought I’d be stood here faced with a choice I can’t make because I never ... I never imagined you would love me back’” (Henry pg 273)

“He’s in Henry’s face now if he’s getting his heart broken tonight he’s sure as hell going to make Henry have the guts to do it right ‘tell me you're done with me. I’ll get back on the plane. that's it. and you can live here in your tower and be miserable forever, write a whole book of sad fucking poems about it, whatever just say it’” (274)

“He’s in stupid unbearable love and Henry loves him too and at least for one night it matters, even if they both have to pretend to forget in the morning” (Pg 275)

“He tells his too fast brain: don’t miss this time he’s too important” (Alexs thoughts Pg 275)

“henry’s hands-on him are unhurried and soft and they make out lazily for hours or days.” (Pg 280)

“Alex sighs ‘i don't think I told you but she uh. well, when she fired me she told me that if I wasn't a thousand percent serious about you. I need to break things off.’ Henry nuzzles his nose behind Alex's ear ‘a thousand percent?’” (Alex and Henry Pg 282)

“‘Diaz you insane hopeless romantic little shit’ says the voice of the president of the united states, muffled in the bed ‘it had better be forever. Be safe’“ (Pg 284)

“hes cut off mid-sentence because Alex has stopped in the middle of the corridor and yanked him backwards into a kiss” (pg 286)

“’its funny’ henry says ‘i always thought of the whole thing as the most unforgivable thing about me but you act like its one of the best’“ (henry Pg 289)

“he takes the chain off his neck and slides the ring on next to the old house key. they click together gently as he tucks them both under his shirt, two homes side by side” (Pg 291)

“I opened my blasted mouth and said ‘because I'm not like the rest of the men in this family beginning with the fact that I'm am very deeply gay Philip’ once shaan managed to dislodge him from the chandelier Philip had quite a few words for me,” (Henry’s emails to Alex Pg 298)

“just leaving, not coming back. maybe burning something down on the way out. it would be nice.” (henrys emails to Alex pg 299)

“I thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire” (henrys emails to Alex (describing how he felt when he first saw Alex) Pg 300)

“20. the fact that you have loved me all along.” (alex’s email to henry (the list of things alex loves about henry) Pg 303)

“‘Oh my god Z what is That? did you get engaged?’ Zahra looks down at the ring and shrugs. ‘i had the week-end off’” (June and Zahra pg 305)

“’you and me and history, remember? were just gonna fucking fight. because your it okay? Im never gonna love anybody in the world like i love you,’“ (Alex pg 312)

“‘I swear to god if you say I'm too young I'm gonna lose my shit,’“ (Alex pg 315)

“What did he do ‘be more specific’“ (Alex to Zahra pg 321 )

“’the president is sitting down with as many members of the office of communitcs we could drag out of bed at three in the morning’” (Zahra Pg 323)

“‘pack a bag’ she says ‘we’re going to londan’” (Zahra Pg 334)

“she (Zarha) seems confident Shaan will agree to it and willing to physically overpower him if not.” (pg 334)

“still the cocky shit head part of him is slightly pleased to finally have claim on henry. Yep, the prince? Most eligible bachelor in the world? British accent face like a greek god, legs for days? Mine” (Pg 336)

“‘youre giving my ulcer an ulcer’“ (Zahra pg 336)

“‘Im running on nothing but black coffee, a wetzels pretzel, and a fistful of B12. Do not even breathe in my directrion,’“ (Zahra Pg 339)

“He leans up and kisses the underside of his jaw, finding it rough from a full fitful day,” (pg 340)

“‘What kind of family, that says we’ll take the murder, we’ll take the raping and pillaging and the colonizing, well scrub it up nice and neat in a museum but oh no you’re a bloody poof? That’s beyond our sense of decorum’” (Henry pg 347)

“Bea seizes the pot of tea from the center of the table and dumps it into his lap ‘Oh, I’m terribly sorry Pip’ she says grabbing him by the shoulders and shoving him sputtering and yelping toward the door ‘so deardfully clumsy, you know I think all that cocaine I did must have really done a job on my refexes!’” (Bea pg 357)

“Henry pulls Alex close and kisses him whispers, ‘I love you I love you I love you’ and it doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter if anyone sees.” (Pg 358)

And that’s when I gave up I do have more but well I didn’t want to make this list any more

#alex claremont diaz #henry got to many names for me to remeber #prince henry of wales #red white and royal blue

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catchlalune · 5 years ago

Text

When We Collide

authors note: YEs hello!!1 I’m back at it again with the angst because I really don’t know no better. Super special thanks to Mama Bel aka @skzctnightnight for being a super awesome beta reader and giving me some awesome feedback (and otherwise encouraging me to finish this lol) also this is a request for my love Clem aka @pockpop (who also came up with the title)

Pairing: Female! Reader x Joshua Hong

CEO! Au, Enemies to lovers, mentions of college

Word Count: 3.9k (literally two words away from being 4k)

Warnings: this deals with unhealthy forms of expression, and a bit of an unhealthy relationship, if this is something that triggers you please for the love of bob DO NOT READ. I am not responsible if you ignore this warning.

You liked listening to Joshua Hong begging for you, more specifically for your assistance. The desperation in his velvety voice, the pout of his pretty pink lips, the wetness of those catlike eyes. Absolutely delicious. Any more desperate and he would be writhing under your cute black kitten heels.

"And just why should I help you?"

"Oh come the fuck on, you know why." It's half of a whine and half of a growl and it almost makes you shiver.

"Okay, maybe I'm crazy but did I just hear you say that aloud?" You narrow your eyes at him.

Joshua is on the very precipice of losing his shit, falling over the edge into anger. And Joshua Hong is a very patient man; it seemed you were the only one who could ever get him like this. You reveled in the idea that on your word and your word alone his very sanity hung in the balance. Good, he sure as hell deserved it.

You hated Joshua Hong with a stern bitterness that left a nasty taste in your mouth whenever you looked at him. It hadn’t even always been like this, but when he started to change so did your feelings for him.

In college you two were close, albeit not nearly as close as he and Jeonghan but close enough in your own right. You two were proverbially glued to the hip until he switched into his business major, but he hadn’t started to change until senior year. He’d been working dutifully on his startup project and the many hours you used to spend together would dwindle to minutes, then seconds, and finally only passing glances of tired smiles in between lectures or study groups. Joshua didn’t even show up to group outings with the rest of you anymore. Jeonghan and Vernon had tried to make excuses every time but even they stopped trying to justify his absences and eventually Joshua was nothing more than a small blip on everyone's radar. This was the first time the image of him turned rancid in your mind.

You had witnessed Joshua’s character development in his college years along with the rest of them, the shy freshman who came straight from Church choir practices into a much more outgoing sophomore, then a funny charismatic leader and finally into someone who flaked on his friends. Did he ever even consider you all friends? You knew switching majors would be hard for him especially in his third year, he had so much to make up but if you knew Joshua Hong you knew that his intelligence and patience would make up for any momentum that he lacked. Maybe it was your fault, you had encouraged him to go for it and in doing so encouraged the downfall of your relationship.

After everyone graduated and Joshua really got his startup up off the ground he had tried to weasel himself back into your lives, and everyone welcomed him with open arms. Well, everyone save for you. It seemed you were the only one that remembered his betrayal, the only one that felt your blood boil every time he talked about his business ventures and traveling around the world. He had tried so desperately to talk to you one on one but you had successfully thwarted off his advances at catching up time and time again. You, the person he has always held so dear, you, who he felt knew him the most intimately. You who he wanted by his side the most, who he tried to be the best he could be for. He had thought there had always been an unspoken attraction and tenderness between the two of you, but maybe he was wrong, maybe it was just him. Joshua wasn’t sure why there was deep set contempt in the depths of your eyes when you looked at him. Especially not when he had loved you so dutifully, so gently.

There is something distinctly venomous about someone who is generally in a caring and kind disposition being cold to you that makes it feel all the more malicious and cruel. Even more painful is it when it is the person you would lay your life down for. Words that were normally displeasing became heated bullets firing one after the other: scorching, heavy, and stone solid in their weight. Every single time you spoke to Joshua your words were laden with a potent distaste he had no idea you even had in you, you had always been so soft and warm with him. He now knew what it meant to scorn someone who was kind, if only he knew what he had done.

This continued on for years until the present, the iciness of winter melting into the rebirth of spring to the solid wall of heat that was summer into the cool refuge of autumn four times over. The relationship between the two of you only became worse with the passage of time, the minimal group outings you all had with him always ended with a scathing remark from you towards him. He grew to expect the animosity, and deemed that maybe you hating him was ultimately better than not speaking to him at all. He had put up with it for so so long, trying to get back in your good graces in the best ways he knew how but all his plans backfired. Joshua was floundering in his relationship with you and subsequently all of his friends. He felt it, every time he saw one of you he felt it.

The tension was always bubbling in the air, so frustratingly out of reach but so real and tangible he could taste it like arsenic in his mouth. In this moment, Joshua sits across from you as you glare at him without any regard to his feelings. He thinks he can finally reach up and grab it. If atmospheres could be seen this one would be as thick and as black as any bottomless abyss. The wait of words not said heavy and suffocating. Hearts beating slow, breath easing in and out in silent whistles of timidness and the reluctance can be the vile taste on their tongues. No one ever wants to speak of how heavy bad things are, because if it is spoken it is real. No one ever wants to be seen as a villain and so they do not speak in this instance, because if they speak it they are real. But you have to say it because this is not a movie, it is not a book and you and Joshua are oh, so real.

“You’re one of them.”

There's a pain in both of your chests, hearts writhing in agony at the words you spit out in your frustration. You didn’t like sitting here in this stupid big office in this stupid comfy chair with his stupid presence.

“You take that back right now (Y/N).”

His eyes are hard and set and finally you see a semblance of the man you used to know, used to love.

“No. You don’t get to tell me what to do, I am not one of your lackies. You’re an absolute greedy piece of shit.” You stand from your comfortable perch right after you say it but he stands with you, eyes just as defiant.

“I said, Take. It. Back.” He reiterates, spite leaking into every punctuated syllable.

“You asked me for my honesty Mr. Hong, so I gave it to you. Now if you’ll excus-”

“Explain it to me then.”

“What?” You’re sure you give him a dumb look but he just swallows, you can tell by the way his adams apple bobs and he fixes you with another glare.

“I said explain.”

You have to laugh at that. What was there for you to even explain? If he hadn’t gotten it by now he never would. But, you indulge him anyway.

“You think your cute little attempts at flaunting your wealth over us is welcomed? Do you think your never changing ‘gentlemanly’ act is wanted? We know you so much better than that.” Your words cut at him like razor blades, sharp and serrated and leaving trails of stinging hatred in their wake.

“What? All I’ve ever done was-”

“Was constantly paid for everything? You never show interest in our group activities and when you do come you treat us like children. ‘Oh you don’t have enough money for this? Let me help you.’ ‘This bill is way too high! Let me pay it.’ ‘I saw you looking at this but it’s so expensive! Let me get it for you!’ Do you know how tiring it is to constantly be coddled? To constantly be reminded that no matter what we do we most likely will never have a sliver of the wealth you do? You’re rich, that’s good for you but some of us like to work hard and save up for the things we want! Some of us like pooling our money together and paying for an extravagant meal! It makes us feel good to know we can have some luxuries, it reminds us of just how hard we’ve worked!”

Your voice was loud now, biting and steadily shoving into his chest pushing him back down to his seat.

“But I-”

“And the way you act towards us all? We’re supposed to be your friends but you don’t come to us with anything! You don’t tell us when you’re tired, you don’t tell us when you’re hungry, you don’t tell us when you’re hurting! You haven’t for six whole years! You faded out of our lives then thought you could waltz back in like nothing happened! Like you hadn’t discarded us for your fame and success. You think you’re lonely Joshua? You think you’ve been ostracized by us? Have you ever stopped to think for a single second that you did it to yourself? That in your clamoring for acceptance you pushed away the only people who accepted you before you had money?” Your chest heaves, face hot with the admission of your feelings.

Finally it dawns on Joshua that the emotions he had mistaken for hatred in your eyes for all these years hadn’t been hatred at all, but pain. An unmistakable hurt that could only be left by someone you thought the world of. You had thought the world of Joshua Hong and he had let it slip between his palms to land directly on your chest.

His mind is too clouded to notice the way you spit out fuck you into the clean air of his office and turn on your heels. It was hours before he looked up, the sun was starting to set, making the sky a pretty palette of pinks, oranges, and purples. The echo of your footfalls that had long since gone in the recesses of his mind, the air still smelled faintly of your scent and it drove him right back to the brink of insanity.

Joshua Hong was very tired, and very very lonely. The only words of comfort to him were the ones you left swirling in the air before you left him to sit there in a worn out slump.

☆☆☆☆

“Maybe I shouldn’t have told you to talk to her.” Jeonghan speaks to Joshua over the edge of his crystal shot glass, eyes burning into him like the taste of soju burned down their throats. Joshua was another bottle away from being absolutely shit faced. The ambience of the bar leads them into a false sense of comfort, the billowing streams of smoke from ashtrays and smells of cheap booze lingering in the air as they relaxed into the uncomfortable steele of the bar stools. The Tipsy Fox wasn’t the most savory of establishments, the lights were always so dim you could barely make out your own hands if they weren’t five inches away from your face, though the bathrooms were always modestly clean they wouldn’t be that way for very long, it didn’t have a no smoking policy so the air was always thick with the smell of tobacco amongst other things-never mind the fact it was always humid.

In plain words: not fit for a billionaire. Not that Joshua had really cared about his image much after the conversation the two of you had. It had been nearly a month by now and though Vernon and Jeonghan had offered solace in their company they had definitely relayed that they most definitely had the same ill feelings though not quite as intense as you. He confronted (or more like cried to) everyone else later that night after your conversation and it left his soul feeling weary. Woozi and Minghao had chided him and when they listened to his reasoning they had asked if he had even listened to your words. They were not as forgiving as Jeonghan and Vernon (especially Minghao, who was what seemed to be your new best friend? When had that even happened?) but not nearly as stingy as you had been.

Over the course of the month there were some hard feelings and some disagreements but nothing that wasn’t able to be ironed out with long open-minded conversations. Finally everyone had come to the agreement that if he worked harder at just being present in general then it might restore the friendships much faster. They were so patient and so willing to speak with him he felt like you had completely blind sided him. He flip flopped between understanding the logic behind your ill feelings towards him and not getting how you could be so uncompromising when everyone else was. The latter was what he was feeling at the moment confiding in Jeonghan.

“I just don’t understand Han, how do I fix it if (Y/N) won’t let me?”

There’s a few beats of silence before Jeonghan sighs and pours each of them another shot. Joshua downs it as soon as it’s filled and Jeonghan sucks his teeth. He made a mental note to not pour anymore drinks for him.

“Shua, you’re both going to drive me insane. Why can’t you two just talk to each other like adults instead of putting me in the middle of it?” The question is more rhetorical than anything else as he mutters it to himself but Joshua still hears him, a faint sparkle lights up his brown eyes.

“She talked to you about me?”

Jeonghan shifts back in his seat and gives his friend a long hard look. The dim lighting only made the bags under his eyes appear darker but he still looked good, Joshua always looked nice. His eyes shift past Joshua to your visage which draws more than just his glance as you walk into the dingy bar.

Even for a normal person you'd look like a mirage, silky green dress hugging your frame like a dream and face made up in a natural look. You carry yourself with an air of confidence that you've hardly ever done. Jeonghan could tell you were more than feeling yourself tonight.

It doesn't take Joshua long to catch the way Jeonghan was no longer paying attention to him so he turns to the direction his friend is looking and he swears his heart almost falls out his ass. You have finally crossed the bar to them and for a second Josh forgets all the years and pain and thinks you'll be settling in next to him for a long conversation about whatever for however long. Even with you wearing the color he most despised you look simply ravishing. His face heats up, feeling absolutely touch starved as he takes in the way your hand curls around your glass after getting your drink. How long has he been staring that you've had enough time to order and receive it?

“You know, it’s impolite to stare.” You don’t spare him a glance, instead sipping the cool drink from the glass in your hand.

“How can I not when you’re so pretty?” You stop, glass half way raised to your lips with the feeling of fire etched beneath your skin.

“I am so sorry, he’s really drunk right n-”

“I’m not drunk, I just thought she should know.”

Jeonghan was trying to fix it, and had Joshua just let him there wouldn’t be this weird tension hanging in the air. They watch as you finish bringing your drink to your lips and take a large gulp before placing it on the polished wood to look at Joshua.

Again, you don’t exchange words but you do take him in wholly. From the disheveled look of his silky cream colored button down (that had three buttons undone), to the messiness of his blue hair he was currently carding his hand through, to the faint flush on his cheeks, the way his black slacks fit his thighs, all the way to his eyes- brown and full of so much unspoken you had a feeling if you let the words fall out of his lips they would tumble around for hours. Yes, Joshua Hong was a sight. Ethereal sitting in an old bar while lighting the place up, you wondered if he felt the hungry stares from everyone else. For a moment you forgot all the ill feelings, feeling just as hungry as they looked.

You finish your drink before standing with a sigh.

“Come on, you need to sober up...before you do something stupid.”

Jeonghan and Joshua blink at you before the former tries to suppress a smile, he fails miserably.

The Tipsy Fox isn’t the most savory of establishments but it leads to a long night of you three eating hangover soup together as Jeonghan tells really bad jokes to get everyone to laugh. And when it is finally over after the sun begins to peek its head over the top of the horizon and you are alone in your bed with a full tummy you think about how it reminds you of the past. You wouldn’t admit it out loud but it feels so good your heart melts and feels a lot less frozen. You really wish you could hate Joshua Hong.

☆☆☆☆

The next time you two meet it’s been a week since your heart has begun to thaw and you weren’t expecting to see him here at all, had you been you definitely would be wearing something much more flattering. But the more important thing was, how had he even remembered this old place? An old run of the mill rinky dink bookstore surely could’ve been easily forgotten by someone who probably didn’t even have time to read books anymore. Did he have time to read books anymore? Is that why he never had time to speak to any of you?

“I didn’t expect to see you here.” Josh flashes you a warm smile that makes that fire ignite under your skin again.

He couldn’t have come at a worst time, here you are sat on a stool (courtesy of the store owner) in leggings and an oversized sweater with a copy of Song of Solomon perched between your fingers. In an effort to look uninterested in his presence you languidly run your gaze up and down his body before looking back at the pages. Hopefully the sweat on your palms wouldn’t make the hardcover slip right from between them. Was this always the effect he had on you or had it just been because of that spark you felt a week ago?

“That makes two of us.”

“Toni Morrison is a good author.”

You have to pick your head up to look at him not expecting the two of you to talk over each other, a wave of confusion crossing over your features. Joshua on the other hand just laughs, he wears that particular shade of mirth well. It makes your stomach churn.

“You weren’t expecting me to be here either?”

“She is a good author.”

You crinkle your nose and Joshua laughs even harder. His laughter warms up the quiet store in a way that has the owner popping her head in the aisle with a small smile of her own. An old woman much older looking now than she was when the two of you were still in college. Back then things had been much easier, and the hole in the wall bookstore was a safe haven even when you didn’t need to study and the library was packed. The two of you had just happened upon it on a random late afternoon walk and it had quickly become your place. A little pocket of normalcy in the chaos of campus life, a place that when you stepped in felt as though space and time was at a stand still.

Now, Joshua sits across from you at the small table the two of you used to use to study waiting for your tea to cool as the old woman talks your ear off about how Joshua had been a faithful regular and even bought the property when she had been in danger of losing it all. She doesn’t leave until your cup is finished and Joshua has nearly melted into the cushy chair beneath him. You stare at him for a while before you say anything again.

“You remembered?”

You remember telling Joshua once that you would love it if the two of you could buy it from the old woman one day so you could run it in your old age. He had agreed heartily but you were sure it was just from the mixture of exhaustion and alcohol the two of you consumed. It was only a passing comment though you had definitely meant every word of it.

“I remember everything about you.”

You bristle at the comment, how could he say something like that so nonchalant and act as if he hadn’t?

“You don’t mean that.”

He takes a long sip of his tea and takes his time setting down the porcelain. The look he gives you is a mixture of sad and weary and you almost wish you hadn’t said it. Normal people would have sighed or shown any form of displeasure, but not Joshua Hong. He sits with you and stares with a level amount of patience that makes you itch.

“How could I ever forget something important to someone I love?”

“You don’t-”

“Please, I’ve always loved you. Do you think I’d be sitting here if I didn’t? You may not believe me but I’ve always told you in my own way, though I’m not very good with those words.”

You swallow thickly feeling like a piece of cotton is lodged in your throat and won’t move. This was not something you were prepared to do today.

“The way you expressed your pain wasn’t very healthy but the way I dealt with my career wasn’t very healthy either. Shutting each other out and not talking hasn’t been working for the last six years, so can we try something different?”

His voice is pleading, forcing you to look into his eyes. Had you made him look like that? Did you look the same? You could feel the wet stinging at the corners of your eyes now, threatening to spill over and splatter against the table top like silent gun shots full of repressed emotions.

“Something different?”

His lips tilt upwards at your question, finally feeling like he was making some progress.

“Why don’t we start by meeting here every Wednesday to read together and talk about our feelings and then once we’ve both gotten better coping mechanisms we try something more?”

It doesn’t even take you half a minute to answer him.

#seventeen angst #kpop angst #kprosenet #joshua angst #kpop scenarios #seventeen scenarios #joshua scenarios #tw: unhealthy coping mechanism #tw: unhealthy relationship #joshua hong #hong jisoo #kpop #seventeen

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tsipasce · 4 years ago

Text

Same Difference Ch.19

“I’ve tried as hard as I physically can-- nothing. I just can’t replicate it.” Nanami let out, frustrated after hours of trying in vain. “Any progress on your end?”

He didn’t meet her gaze, but she could tell by the far-off look in his eyes he wasn’t having much luck either. After running some analysis on their fluid samples from the day before, they found the protein-encased mystery particles from before seemed to be reacting in time with their quirk activation. They surmised it had to be connected to overhaul, but to what end they still weren’t sure. It also wasn’t helpful that whenever they attempted to isolate the particles from the sample fluids, they immediately disintegrated. Nanami felt they were hitting a wall and decided to try something risky. The suggestion had popped into her head an hour or so ago upon reviewing the final footage with Kurono, but hoped they’d figure out an alternative before resorting to testing it out. Sighing, she began, “…I ha—"

“ve an idea.” They spoke simultaneously, though what was a look of apprehension in Nanami’s eyes was one of mischief in Overhaul’s.

Yup, don’t like that.

“Don’t look so worried, we’ll be careful about this, just like last time. I don’t want a repeat of that morning as much as you do.” He said rubbing the back of his head upon remembering how very unpleasant it was cracking his skull and having to anxiously wait by her bedside for days.

“… Fine. But for the record, I do not endorse this, but desperate times…”

“Your apprehension has been noted.” He sighed annoyed, “After you, doctor.”

++++++++++++++++++++

They entered the testing arena followed by Kurono, Rappa and Mimic who were hauling in various plastics from the lab. They placed them neatly against the wall as Nanami took stock of the varying kinds and shapes she had to work with. Overhaul stood nearby taking down the room conditions and making markings on the floor while the last of the plastic was brought in. The pile was large, stretching at least six feet tall. Looking back at him, Nanami confirmed, “You sure about this?”

“Are you questioning him?” Mimic screeched as Nanami’s eyes reflexively rolled the second noise came from his mouth.

“Was I talking to yo—"

“Mimic.” Overhaul chided; his expression bored. Mimic scoffed, folding his arms, but remained silent nonetheless as Overhaul continued, “Yes, I am sure. I trust you.” He replied to her question simply.

If a pin had dropped in that moment, the sound would have been deafening as the three Precepts froze, staring in shock at what they’d heard. Nanami shared in their surprise before promptly looking away, feeling his gaze to be a bit too intense at the declaration. It was common knowledge that the only person he truly trusted was himself, and to state otherwise, in front of an audience no less, was no small matter. There wasn’t a hint of the sarcasm in his voice or features at his reply to her, no air of manipulation. It felt sincere and she was confronted with the possibility that the games had ended, and they’d truly stepped into new territory that sent her heart racing. A simple ‘yes’ would have sufficed. Nanami thought, annoyed at how easily he got a rise out of her, heat rising to her cheeks.

Satisfied with her reaction, he resumed, his gaze still fixed on her, “Now, if you all value your eyes, you’ll leave us to our work. Or did any of you have something to say?”

“Nope, I’m good.” Rappa replied, turning on his heel and out of the room as the rest of them followed suit, Kurono’s face a bit too smug for Nanami’s liking.

Now alone in the room, Nanami spoke, still refusing to make eye contact, “L-let’s just get started.” She knelt down to the pile, examining it for a beat before transforming it into a large span of padding that covered a quarter of the room, the density thickest towards the center. The plastics made great raw materials for make-shift poly-fil, the padding essentially being a giant pillow to soften the impact she anticipated.

He strode over to her, disposing of his gloves, “We’ve tried a myriad of different ways to recreate the blast from the experiment on our lonesome with… depressing results. By the footage we can confirm that the air is what reacted to our quirk. I say we try again, together this time.”

“It’s gonna be pretty hard since I know we’re supposed to get riled up. It’d be kind of contrived to do it the same way as last time, don’t you think?”

“Agreed, but I don’t think that will be necessary. I’d like to try it as though we’re using overhaul normally, without any significant stressors.” He reasoned before motioning to the lines drawn on the floor as guides, “If we adhere to the diagram, we should be able to perform this with minimal risk.”

She chewed the inside of her mouth before acquiescing, “Alright, let’s line up and on the count of three, we’ll give it a shot.”

Nodding the went to their designated markers, both focusing intently on the target placed on the other side of the room. Standing side-by-side, each extended an arm outward, aiming towards the marker a few yards away. Taking a centering breath, Overhaul began, “One… two… three…”

“…”

“… Okay, now we just look constipated.” Nanami exasperated, frustrated by their lack of progress.

“Be serious.”

“I am. I just don’t know how this is supposed to work. Obviously, air is matter, but it’s… different. I can’t see it…”

“…But we can feel it.” They looked to each other, sharing a eureka moment. Early on in their research, they discovered what seemed to be a heightened sensitivity in their hands which was unsurprising as they were their primary quirk factors ( Nanami also discovered their feet could serve as secondary factors, but the idea of feet in general grossed Overhaul out so the discovery was promptly archived).

Closing her eyes, Nanami focused on her hands, feeling for every whisp of air that caressed her fingertips as she slowly moved them through the air. She was sure it looked like she was having a very boring acid trip, but ultimately the movements worked to help visualize the air particles to the best of her ability. With renewed vigor, she opened her eyes to see her lab partner doing a similar exercise, though his movements were more akin to lazier version of jazz hands. Stifling a giggle at the sight, she cleared her throat to gain his attention, “Ready to try again?”

“On three.” He confirmed, with a nod, his eyes focused on the target in the distance once more. “One… two… thre—"

The second the last syllable ended, a chain of explosions cascaded across the room, obliterating the target in an instant. The blast sent them careening backwards towards the padding on the wall and across the room and Nanami found herself eternally grateful they’d taken the time to reinforce it. Dizzied by the recoil, she hazily peered in the direction of the target, brushing a stray hair from her face. Blinking her vision into focus, it was clear that the target was gone… As well as the wall behind it… And the wall behind that one as well. Rebar and blocks of concrete fell pathetically from the rim of the gaping hole left behind, though the sound was muffled by the ringing in her right ear.

It worked. Nanami thought awestruck at her quirk. She could acknowledge its usefulness in a general sense, but for whatever reason, this moment reminded her of the sublime, and she felt Herculean for the first time in her life. It became easier for her to imagine how this feeling would leave others drunk with power, the possibility for creation and destruction growing more vast by the day, but her resolve remained unwavering. In the same moment that she was in awe of the destruction, there was a marked guilt at the thought of someone being in the way of a blast like that. Her quirk felt like a cruel metaphor for her life; constantly building to mitigate the equally constant destruction, both of which she was responsible for. I…have really got to stop depressing myself like this. She thought, shaking herself out of the mini-existential crisis.

Readjusting herself on the padding where she landed, there was a warmth on her back, then small, rhythmic breathes. She looked to either side of her to see familiar slack-clad legs caging her in. Connecting the dots, her eyes shot wide, realizing she was sitting in her partner’s lap. Trying to ignore a slew of unprofessional thoughts, she turned carefully, a small part of her hoping he’d been knocked out, simply to avoid any embarrassment. Still a bit sore, she steadied herself, absentmindedly putting a hand on his chest, the other pressing against the padding before looking to his face. Much to her chagrin, he was fully conscious. He gazed down at her with an expression she couldn’t read, though it certainly wasn’t blank. Hyperaware of their positioning she attempted to steady her breath before speaking, feeling the familiar tension between them growing more potent. Move! Say something, do something! Literally anything! Instead her breath hitched as he unsubtly glanced down at her lips before returning to her eyes, the fact that he’d made no efforts to change their position now weighing heavily on her. It was becoming too much for Nanami as it became clearer by the moment what the tension would amount to if left unchecked. The scariest part of it all being that she wouldn’t stop him if he decided to act on whatever ideas were dancing behind those eyes. Panicked by her own willingness, she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, an awestruck look still in her eyes as she appreciated seeing him this close.

“That… was a bigass explosion.”

Truly insightful observation, Dr.Watanabe. Just put that as the title of the research paper: The Methodology and Phenomena of Bigass Explosions. She thought, inwardly rolling her eyes at herself.

She could feel his chest jerk at her comment in a stifled chuckle, his face that of disbelief and amusement, “You’re not wrong… Would you care to join me in getting up and surveying the results? This position isn’t ideal, for labwork that is.” He spoke the last part a bit too suggestively and Nanami was convinced her face would be stuck in a permanent state of blush.

“O-oh yeah, of course! Sorry about that,” She stammered, hopping to her feet before instinctively extending her hand to help him up. She almost immediately remembered how silly the gesture was, but before she could withdraw the palm, he grasped it firmly, accepted the lift. She pulled him up, struggling for a beat as he was heavier than he looked, trying her best to hide a look of shock as he held her hand longer than necessary.

As they surveyed the damage from a distance, there was a glint in his eye, that left her equally excited and concerned. They hadn’t realized it yet, but what appeared to be a breakthrough dragged behind it a deluge of questions they might soon regret asking.

#same difference #overhaul #overhaul x oc #bnha #mha #nanami watanabe #overhaul fanfiction #overhaul fanfic #chisaki kai #kai chisaki #shie hassaikai #multichapter #mha fanfic #bnha fanfic #my hero fanfic #my hero academy oc #boku no hero academia

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deuynndoodles · 4 years ago

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read on ao3 or click read more!

suspicion increase by deuynndrabbles and @whimsicalweast

chapter summary:

It's their first day out looking for ghosts, and it's a great day to be suspicious of Danny.

He glances back at his sister and Danny, who are still talking about space. Well, it’s more the latter who does so, rambling passionately while Mabel struggles to stay focused on one topic for this amount of time.

As Dipper realizes the irony of the situation, he stifles a laugh with his hand.

TW FOR DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF A PANIC ATTACK

3.8k | ch three

It’s the next day, the sun high in the sky. Birds are chirping, wild animals scurrying through the trees, and three kids are walking through the woods with one certain great uncle trailing behind them.

Dipper is in the front, a now fixed ghost tracker sitting in his hands and a bag of a dozen more sliding off his shoulder. (Dipper mentioned the problem to Ford a couple nights ago and he agreed to fix it. It’s even upgraded so it won’t break the way it did last time.)

Mabel is close behind, her baggy sleeves trailing behind in her graceful yet clunky movement. Today she wears a navy blue sweater with a cartoon ghost resting on the center surrounded by itty bitty stars. Her headband is white and her skirt a lighter grey, with her own ghost device settled in her sweater pocket. She’s ignoring the faint buzzing in favor of watching the scenery.

Danny is about a couple meters behind the twins, his own beeping device shoved into his big jeans pocket. He’s watching the scenery like Mabel, trailing a hand along the grass and occasionally picking a long piece to fiddle with in his hands.

There’s a long groan, and Dipper glances behind him to see Mabel leaning her head back to stare at the clouded sky, her feet planted on the dirt and unmoving.

“Why are we all just quiet?” She says, prolonging the last two syllables and sticking her bottom lip out a little. She takes a lock of her hair and begins to twirl it around her finger. “Let’s do something that isn’t just staring at those silly devices.”

There’s a quick shout of indignation from Dipper, but Danny interrupts by giving a slight nod and saying, “Yeah, it is kinda boring.”

Danny catches up to Mabel, his eyes drawn to the sweater she has on. He isn’t really sure what else to say (he’s not the best at small talk) so he compliments, “Nice sweater.”

It earns a toothy grin from said girl and she twirls in place as if to show off her creation. “Thanks! I made it myself!”

“I like the ghost, it looks pretty cool.”

“I thought it was fitting!” Mabel chimes, still grinning.

“Are those stars around it?” Danny asks, because his brain always comes back to the topic of space. Mabel nods, and Danny smiles widely, saying, “I love space!”

Mabel draws out a gasp, pressing her hand to her chest right on top of the ghost’s eyes. “Me too.”

Dipper’s pretty much sure that Mabel’s just saying it to make Danny happy. It works, as Danny’s eyes light up. She always does this, and Dipper won’t barge in this time.

Anyways, he’s paying attention to the pad in his hands more.

“Isn’t it just so cool?” Danny grins. (His face is full of excitement and he knows he’s going to rant about his special interest now. He’s practically prompted.) “Stars are amazing, and just so beautiful. But honestly, I’m super excited about space travel and all that stuff.”

Mabel nods along as if she understands every word that makes its way out of his mouth when Danny simply continues to rant on and on about astrology and other topics about space with an intense passion.

Dipper is more focused on the device grasped in his hand. His eyes dart about the monitor, looking for any sort of ectoplasmic signal but comes up empty. Dipper makes the quick hypothesis that ghosts are more active at night.

As Dipper realizes the irony of the situation, he stifles a laugh with his hand.

Mabel constantly tries to steer the conversation away from scientific aspects, preferring creative or ‘girly’ subjects like glitter and rainbows. She’d likely come out here in the hopes of finding a ghost cat and cuddling it or something. Probably to hang out with Danny too, maybe flirt with him or whatever the heck Mabel thinks she’s doing.

Instead she has to listen to the boy ramble on about various studies of space.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

Dipper can tell how absolutely bored Mabel is with Danny’s speech, and he still struggles to hide his chuckles.

(He’d probably get along better with the teen better than his sister, if he weren’t so skeptical of Danny’s unknown intentions.

He is still a stranger, after all.)

Mabel’s hands are fiddling with the loose threads of her newly made sweater. Her attention had clearly drifted off elsewhere a while ago, but Danny still hasn’t noticed, ever so caught up in his one-way conversation.

Dipper catches her eye, throwing a smug expression her way as Danny continues to speak animatedly, and his sister returns a raspberry as she slumps over.

‘Very mature’, he thinks.

Dipper rolls his eyes with a smile, about to return to examining the machines when Danny mentions a topic that Dipper had recently heard about.

“The Apollo missions inspired an entire generation of people to pursue math and science careers, and it’s amazing! Our society continues to become more technologically advanced and dependent, and the general populace need to become more scientifically literate to keep up.

“I’ve always dreamed of being an astronaut,” he says, his excitement slowing as he gazes down at the floor. “I’ve just- I’m not what you’d call a star student.” He gives out a chuckle, a chuckle that is absent of actual humor, and it makes Dipper hesitate in his step as well. “And outside of school, I’m pretty busy with other stuff. Uh- extracurriculars, and all that.”

With those last few sentences, it finally clicks, and Dipper whirls around.

“It was you!”

“I’m sorry, what?”

It’s the first thought that runs through Danny’s head, and apparently it spills out his lips too.

“You-You were the guy who helped me back to camp a week ago!” Dipper exclaims, his finger still pointed at the confused boy.

(For some reason this makes Danny think of Wes.)

“What?” It’s Mabel who says this. She’s eloquently ignored.

“Y’know, when you- uh, when you fell from that tree, and pointed out the constellations to me?” Dipper stammers, and Danny’s eyes widen in recognition.

“That was you?” Danny asks, and Dipper nods slowly, as if he’s uncomfortable.

(Mabel looks on in pure confusion. She is still promptly ignored.)

“What a coincidence, huh?” Danny lets out a nervous chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck with his left hand. “Well, uh. Nice to meet you? Again, I guess.”

(Danny truly does see it to be a coincidence. It’s so odd, how the universe chooses to dump on him in a place that isn’t Amity Park. Hasn’t he had enough?)

He stretches out his hand awkwardly, and cautiously, Dipper steps forward and shakes it. They’ve already met, but this makes it feel more official, Danny thinks. Maybe not quite that, but he imagines it’d make the scenario much more awkward if he jerks his hand back now.

Instead, Dipper is the one to pull his hand back, replacing his steadfast grip on the pad in his hands. It gives out a solid beep, and then returns back to its muted noise.

“Well,” Dipper starts, his face screaming the fact that he feels very awkward in this scenario. “How about we go back to looking for ghosts?”

“Sure!” Mabel chirps, and Danny shrugs, finally pulling out the device in his hands. He’s down for pretending that never happened.

Dipper pauses, and then says, "Hey, I can't see Great Uncle Ford."

Mabel pauses in her balancing act on a toppled tree trunk, glancing up to her brother. She takes a look back behind her. "Yeah, I guess so."

Mabel takes a seat on the ground, adjusting her skirt. Danny leans against a tree, and then a thought pops into his head.

“Oh shit, I pointed out the Big Dipper to a kid named Dipper.”

“Language!” Mabel sing-songs, blowing a small raspberry from her pleasant spot on the ground as Dipper's face reddens.

"Seriously?" Dipper bites out as Mabel gives a dorky snort, a fair imitation of the pig sitting back in her room.

(Ford can hear the tail end of the conversation as he settles his cane in a knot of roots and heaves himself over it. A fond smile tugs on his lips, and he lets out a chuckle.

He's glad the kids are getting along.)

"Go back to your dorky devices, guys." The last word is said even more dorkishly, and Mabel gestures to said devices. Danny imagines that she's already shoved her gadget back into her sweater pocket.

As Ford steps back into the small clearing that Danny and the twins are sitting in, everyone rises and Ford hands out snacks to each kid individually.

Five minutes later, they’re back on track and return to their task.

Danny this time trails in the back, stimming by shaking his hands, deep in thought.

Dipper is clearly wary of Danny, probably due to the fact that Danny said he fell out of a tree with little to no explanation. (He really needs to control what comes out his mouth.) Danny must seem pretty suspicious.

Or maybe it’s just how the kid acts. He can’t be entirely sure.

He’s still surprised that Dipper hadn’t mentioned his run in with Danny. The two don’t seem to be quite attached at the hip, but he can still tell they’re very close. He sees how they can just communicate without speaking, how comfortable they are around the other. It’s nice, he thinks.

(If later asked, he’d deny it. But Danny can’t help but secretly wish he was as comfortable around Jazz as the twins are around each other.)

What surprises him even more? It’s the fact that Mabel doesn’t question it. She’s been pestering Danny with questions non-stop since ‘inviting’ him over for a sleepover. Mabel is a chatterbox and it’s so odd that she doesn’t press, because it seems like it’s practically part of her nature to find out more about things.

The only reaction out of her hearing of Dipper and his meeting (aside from the earlier input) is a questioning glance at her brother, to which the boy shrugs halfheartedly in response.

Mabel throws him that look that Danny knows as ‘We’ll talk about this later’. He knows it well, having been on the receiving end of it countless times from his own sister. She then slows down, another grin on her face, and she strikes up another conversation.

To be honest, the constant conversation is starting to wear him out, but he still does it anyway.

“What’s your favorite animal?” Mabel asks, skipping happily.

Danny isn’t entirely sure. He says so.

“Me too!” Mabel grins, moving her hand to fiddle with her headband. “I just can’t decide! There’s cats, but dogs are really cute too! And not to mention koalas, and elephants and just. So many animals I can’t choose between them all.”

All in all, it’s a fairly uneventful day. All they seem to have done is walk through the forest, checking the devices, enjoying the scenery and engaging in small talk.

It leaves Dipper with a dissatisfied feeling sitting in his gut, but he doesn’t express it like Mabel does. Mabel sinks in disgruntlement with a roll of her eyes, slumped over slightly with her energy drained as much as it can be for Mabel Pines. That is to say, she has the energy of a normal person.

“Don’t worry, there’s still tomorrow,” Danny says, with an awkward pat on Mabel’s shoulder.

(Danny’s silently wishing they actually don’t come across any other ghosts. But alas, they’ll find someone, he’s sure. This woods has the same eerie feeling as the Ghost Zone, so he knows that there are supernatural entities in this place.

He’s not eager to find out what they are.)

Dipper’s head nods slowly in agreement, and it occurs to him that this isn’t the only day they go out to search for ghosts and he isn’t a failure-

Mabel elbows Dipper in the forearm, her mood having taken a 180 and a slight smirk resting on her lips. “Why you sad, bro-bro?” The brunette asks innocently, as if she wasn’t the one just dragging her feet along on the forest floor. “You still got a lot of-”

Mabel purses her lip, searching for the right word.

“Data. That’ll help, right?” She elbows Dipper again.

(Dipper’s sigh has a hint of disappointment, and Danny knows that Dipper is actually the one more disheartened in this situation. Mabel tends to exaggerate her feelings.)

“You’re right, Mabel,” Dipper mutters, fiddling with the pad in his hands again anxiously. “We have a lot of data now.”

Dipper glances up slightly, and sees the silhouette of the Mystery Shack illuminated in the near sunset, the sun beginning to slide behind the wide expanse of trees. He turns his head back to face the device, pressing buttons occasionally to change the view.

From behind him, Mabel straightens up, and pulls on Danny’s sleeve. “You ready for another sleepover?” She asks excitedly, her voice lilting.

“Nah,” Danny responds. “I’ll find somewhere to stay tonight.”

(Danny doesn’t want to bother Dipper again.)

Dipper doesn’t entirely care. He’s almost glad that he doesn’t have to sleep in the same room as Danny tonight, but he won’t say it out loud.

(Mabel huffs, and she has the social awareness to give a glance to the boy who is scouring the devices in his hand and in the bag on his back.) “Fine, just be okay, okay?” She pauses, and then giggles. “I said okay twice.”

Dipper inhales sharply, and Mabel instantly quiets. The next few minutes are pretty awkward, as all they do is walk. Dipper’s feet are tired and he’s more walking on impulse now, waiting for the moment to sit down. Mabel seems to be out of energy as well, as she doesn’t break the silence with her excited gestures or bubbly sentences.

The twins step up onto the slanted porch promptly, Dipper collapsing sitting on one of the stairs. Mabel groans and fans her face with her baggy sleeve, and Ford is a few meters behind them. Danny puts his hands in his pockets, staying a good few feet away from everyone, and gives a quick wave.

“See ya guys tomorrow,” Danny says, and as the two twins step inside, Dipper rushes to the nearest window to look out at Danny.

(He doesn’t see anything, as Danny is already long gone.)

Dipper sits in a fold-up chair as he watches Ford review the data they’ve collected that day, pouring over the gadgets. There haven't been very many ectoplasmic signatures, but any information is helpful and will allow them to know how to better handle it when they do come across a ghost for the first time.

The brunet still pipes in here and there with his own views on the data, but his mind has already drifted elsewhere.

(He does remember his first meeting with Danny. It was a week ago, and it’s still very fresh in his mind. The flimsy excuse of ‘stargazing’ had been so odd. But what other reasons could Danny need to climb a tree for? Was he hiding from something? Someone?

How had he even gotten up there in the first place? The branches on the trees in the forest are often placed far from each other, and once you do get a grip on them the brittle branches give up on your weight and you go collapsing back to the ground.

He’s seen Mabel try to climb the trees on multiple occasions. She’s never gotten past five feet above the ground.

And how does he just disappear into thin air? One second he’s beside Dipper and the next he’s nowhere to be seen. It’s also absurd how many times he hasn’t noticed the teen beside him; it’s like the teen has no presence whatsoever.)

He rests a hand on his forehead, letting out a sigh with a frown.

(Danny is such an enigma and it’s just so frustrating being unable to figure him out.

Though, he says this as if there’s anything to discover in the first place.

For all he knows, Danny could just be a regular teen with somewhat questionable hobbies. He hasn’t done anything out of the ordinary, ordinary for Gravity Falls at least. He gets along with everyone around him just fine with the occasional awkward sentence or body posture, fiddling with things when he’s nervous like Dipper does.

Dipper’s probably just going crazy overreacting.)

He glances up, combing a hand through his hair, letting out another unsteady breath.

(But if that's the case, why does he feel so uneasy?)

Ford pauses, taking a glance at his great nephew. He turns to him, devices still in his grasp, and asks, “Are you okay?” He cocks his head slightly to the side, eyeing Dipper’s tense body language.

Dipper nods sharply, rubbing his arm and staring down at the slick lab floor. “Yeah. . . Just, uh, thinking about some stuff.”

Ford seems unconvinced, his eyes still trailing on Dipper before he turns back to his devices. He hums in confirmation, making Dipper feel slightly guilty for the white lie.

A few minutes pass, and Dipper still can’t focus, catching more than one concerned glance from his great uncle.

"So, care to tell me what 'stuff' you're thinking of?" Ford questions, idly rifling through some papers.

Dipper fiddles with his lip with his two front teeth, rubbing his left arm. He winces slightly, refusing to meet his great uncle’s gaze.

“I-I dunno, it’s just. . .” He sighs, his hand dropping to rest by his side. “Danny’s been- He’s been super helpful and gets along with Mabel, but I- but I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something here.”

Ford’s eyes soften, and he sets down the papers on another tall pile of paper. He leans down and pulls out his own chair from underneath a table, twisting it to face his great nephew and Dipper does the same with his chair.

“I get how you feel, Dipper. I understand, really I do, but not everything needs a dramatic reveal.” Ford says, gently patting Dipper’s head. “Oftentimes, people are exactly who they claim to be and that’s rather normal. Just because something may feel off about someone, doesn’t have to mean they’re dangerous.

“Gravity Falls is indeed a strange place, but not everyone who steps foot into the town is a monster in disguise.

“Puzzles are marginally harder to solve when you can’t see each individual piece and fit them together, or when you refuse to see the pieces in front of you. I myself had a difficult time grasping this after so many years spent living here.”

("And in the portal" remains unsaid, but Dipper can hear the hint of it behind the words Ford speaks.)

"You certainly have a knack for picking out who or not to trust, so if you really believe Danny has harmful intentions, I'll listen. To me, Danny just appears to be a typical teenage boy, similar to yourself, but it's your call, Dipper. Just remember that putting your faith in others isn't always harmful."

(“Not as easy as it sounds” whispers in the back of his head, and he shakes it away by bobbing his mechanically and allowing the words his great uncle speaks replace the dread sitting in his gut for absolutely no reason-)

Ford is right; he’s getting worked up over nothing. Not everyone is out to get him.

Danny isn't out to get him.

(It's irrational to think Danny would do anything to hurt Mabel, or anyone else for that matter.)

Danny’s just a random teen who made his way into Gravity Falls, a teen obsessed with space and finding himself wrapped up in Dipper’s research. From the start, Danny has done nothing but help them, and he likely thinks Dipper is weird when he refuses to meet the teen’s eye, hands shuffling nervously.

Guilt rises into Dipper’s chest, and almost immediately Dipper feels terrible. He’s only made things feel more awkward for Danny. By making the teen feel uncomfortable during their outings. Disappointing Mabel by ruining her sleepover.

(‘You know they would've been happier without you there, anyway,’ his brain barges in, and he can’t find the heart to deny it.)

Dipper is always bringing people down along with him. It’s his fault Ford’s machine broke. If he hadn’t gone out that night, none of this would have happened, anyway.

(Dipper always needs other people to help him. He’s just useless by himself.)

(Why can’t his brain just act normal for once? Why can’t he ever seem to let people in?)

His eyes begin to sting, and he feels the panic taking hold, leaching into his chest and refusing to let go. He curls in on himself slightly, because he can only just live through it and mentally hit himself-

Is it really so hard to trust people again?

(Dipper already knows the answer to this question; he knows because of the being that frequently haunts his nightmares.)

(‘Trust no one’ echoes endlessly in his mind, reflecting off every boundary and always making its way back to the center-

Dipper’s hand burns, engulfed in blue flame-

His laughter, resonating within his ears-

There’s no escape-)

His lungs refuse to take in air, and his vocal cords won’t work to even choke out a scream.

(He can't breathe-)

In a split second, there’s a warm hand resting on his shoulder. It’s vaguely comforting, but Dipper still jerks away from it and takes in a shaky breath as his lungs start working again.

His mind slowly clears, and he glances up to see Ford resting beside the chair on his knee, hand pulled back slightly with a concerned expression on his face.

(‘You did that to him. You're the one troubling your great uncle. You're just a burden’, his brain screams at him, and he can’t find the courage to scream denials back.)

“Dipper?” Ford asks tentatively, concern hidden in his eyes. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah-Yeah,” Dipper manages to choke out, still taking shaky breaths and refusing to look the man in the eye. “I’m good.”

"Are you sure?"

Dipper pauses for a moment, but then nods slowly. “I’m okay, Great Uncle Ford.” His breath is starting to steady, and he takes his first deep breath. “Thanks. For everything.”

(Really, he’s okay.

‘Keep telling yourself that’, his brain taunts, and he sighs again.

He's fine.)

#dp #drabbles

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anangelicday-mrwolf · 4 years ago

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Wolfsbane : Noblesse Fanfic (post-ending)

(previous chapter)

Chapter 30 – Wrong Start

“I give you 10 seconds for you to confess, whoever it is.”

Muzaka’s statement resonated in the air, left unanswered by his closest and most trusted warriors.

None of the four warriors could fancy what was in their lord’s head, and they were busy exchanging looks among themselves, until Garda, as the most experienced of all warriors, decided to be the vanguard.

“Pardon me, my lord, but... I am afraid we have no idea what you want to discuss with us.”

“Isn’t it obvious? I mean, can I make it any more obvious?”

Muzaka sighed from the bottom of his guts, as if he just encountered the gravest tragedy he has ever witnessed.

“Don’t you hear that? Our little girl throwing a raging, hissy fit as we speak.”

Oh.

No mouth in the area ever moved, but an identical sound rang in their heads in synchronization.

In fact, questions had been ringing in their heads even before Muzaka summoned them.

‘What on earth had happened to Lunark?’

‘Why is she so mad?’

‘Shouldn’t we stop her? At this rate, she’ll blow up at least 10% of our land.’

By the time damages caused by Union’s biological weapons were almost as good as gone, out of the blue thundered new cacophony undeniably from a work of destruction.

It turned out Lunark was to blame, slashing and trashing like a bull that has spotted a red flag, as reported by two rookie warriors that were dispatched to find out the cause of it.

And she was doing one hell of a job, so vicious that they could not even get close, let alone ask her what was wrong.

“But it seems her reasons are still functioning. She’s wreaking havoc at that infamous forest. But really, does anybody have any idea what’s gotten into the girl? Whether it is condolence or understanding or reprimand that she needs, I’ll be able to choose one only when I find out why she’s doing... All that. Anybody? Please?”

Nobody moved a muscle to Muzaka’s inquiry-slash-request, for they were just as clueless as he was.

That is, all except one.

Garda learned about Lunark’s rampage from new warriors, who were already throwing a talk party of their own regarding the grey-haired warrior’s behavior, and she ran to the spot right away to check what was going on.

And she could pick up Lunark’s voice even before reaching the forest, from which the former usually stays away.

“Aaaaaaaaaagh!!”

She managed to catch a glimpse of the younger warrior from afar, who was screeching an array of unrecognizable vowels and syllables, with her hands shifted into battle stance as she was hurling towards whatever she could reach, air, trees, or leaves afloat.

Garda had no choice but to retreat, partially because she got scared for her own life, and partially because she was beyond puzzled, never having seen Lunark so unbridled.

Luckily, she could spot Lunark’s face right before she turned away, which left a concerning impression in her head.

‘It looks to me she isn’t mad. She’s whipping up embarrassment from the depth of her soul. Just what could mortify and set her off like that?’

*****

Few days later, Frankenstein’s island

‘Just what did he do?’

The white-haired man had been asking himself ever since the lord of the island returned at last.

He did remember that Frankenstein said he would be visiting wolfkind; however, he was wondering whether he ate the Dark Spear on his way.

Because the atmosphere from the blonde human was so dark, so violent.

That was when 3rd Elder’s experience with mind games from Union kicked in, and he attempted to analyze Frankenstein’s mental state based on what he could make out of his islemate’s facial expressions.

As a result, he could identify a number of emotions: extreme irritation, fury just as extreme, remorse greater than either of the two, and, most importantly, self-hate.

Because of which, 3rd got highly conscious of his every breath and step, despite the fact that he was lodging on this island upon Frankenstein’s permission and consent.

On the other hand, unbeknownst to the scientist, he terrified that the former could have noticed his alliance with Helga.

So he ended up asking Frankenstein if there was something troubling him, ready for a lethal slap in the face.

It’s nothing.

Came a reply with a face that THERE IS DEFINITELY SOMETHING, before the speaker fled the scene.

That did not do any good to relieve 3rd Elder of his fear, but at least he was convinced that the reason behind Frankenstein’s foul mood lay not with him.

When he walked away, Frankenstein’s steps were immediate, rushed as if he never wanted to talk about it ever again.

‘That just made it more curious for me, but I guess it’s none of my business, whatever it is. What matters is that Frankenstein knows nothing about my deal. Speaking of which, looks like the recorder and tracker in me really didn’t work.’

He already knew the answer; had they worked properly, upon his return Frankenstein would have cornered him almost as if he were going for a round of a full torture.

So all in all, regardless of what had taken place with the wielder of Dark Spear, 3rd Elder could not deny that it was all good for him.

It was so good to know Helga’s promise came with a reason.

It was very good to find out her accomplice was truly talented.

‘And I’d say she’s also talented, having discovered and won over such competence, especially considering the original alliance of the said competence.’

Though Helga did relay to him the course through which her accomplice had agreed to act as an accomplice, 3rd Elder was still mystified.

‘Anyways, I’d say nobody knows about my ‘betrayal.’ Which means I should focus on my job and do it right, on the day she mentioned.’

*****

Time never stopped its magic, and at last came the day marked on everyone’s calendar.

“Haha, amen to both of you.”

Tao, who had found himself in front of computers for once, laughed at the screens hosting virtual conversation with four recipients at once.

Nonetheless, the man’s face held a hint of anxiety, and Adne somehow detected it like an X-ray.

<Mr. Tao, was it...? There’s no need to be so anxious.>

“Haha, was it that obvious? How embarrassing. And I have been calling myself an expert, with tons and variety of experience when it comes to computers.”

Tao laughed, scratching a side of his head, when Adne offered a word of comfort.

“My, I’m starting to feel small in your presence. We should be calling you the real expert.”

But I wanted to be one.

Tao blinked, wondering if he had just heard the werewolf doctor whispering.

Before he could ask if he had said something, however, Adne beamed in satisfaction.

“Aww, come on, boss! You should really stop being a proud daddy.”

Tao felt his body turning rigid as a biting voice speared his eardrums.

So did Takio and M-21, watching the scene right next to his chair.

Frankenstein’s face, lighting up an entire monitor that was assigned to him, was brimming with annoyance.

“Aww, don’t be so mean, boss. There’s no way we’re leaving you out for the grand premiere of the event.”

Said Lascrea, who had been listening like a rock until then.

Because she was standing next to Yuhyung, who decided to be the operator for Lukedonia, only part of her face was visible.

The only one who has not spoken was the doctor from KSA.

Or rather, he decided not to speak, overwhelmed by the presence of werewolves, nobles, Frankenstein, and a group of people who had shared with him blood and sweat in battles.

But of course, that did not mean KSA would be left unspoken for the duration of the event, though it was because Tao directed a word to everyone at the scene.

“So, are we all ready? Status report, please.”

<Yep! All set!>

<Uh, same here...>

<...I believe we are ready as well.>

Adne was the last to send an okay, after a bit of delay, to which Tao responded with a nod completely void of a smile.

“So, shall we begin?”

Right on cue, Yuhyung took the invisible mike from Tao.

<Now, please follow the instructions I had left for you. First, run the program I installed for you.>

Tao’s fingers danced across the keyboard, for he had fully memorized Yuhyung’s instruction manual; and Adne and KSA’s doctor followed suit.

The two humans provided feedback whenever things were lost or stuck in the middle, and they reached step by step closer to the initiation of the QuadraNet.

By then M-21, Takio, and even Lascrea were having a hard time hiding their excitement.

“Okay, we’re almost there! Just a little bit more!”

Tao’s encouragement fueled everybody to the last stage.

<Now, once this file is activated, all four servers will be linked. And like I told you a number of times, we must activate the file at the exact same moment.>

“On a count of three. One... Two...”

Three.

Four fingers stabbed the enter key in unison, and not long after they held their breath in waiting, pleasing hum of machines and blue light began their duet.

<...Well? It looks like things went okay here.>

Asked a voice from monitor connected to the KSA’s headquarter, somewhere between anticipation and concern.

<W-w-we’re okay!>

<Uh, same here...>

Came voices wild with wonder, and Tao was about to laugh in reply, when an eerie whirring noise, pitched so high and so ominous, began to bore through everyone’s ears.

The fact that it took place just when they were literally less than an inch away from completion was horrifying enough, but they had yet to realize the real horror was yet to reveal itself.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

Beep-beep-beep-beep.

BEEEEEEEEEP!!!!!!

Monitors linking Lukedonia, KSA, and wolfkind also emitted similar noises, and soon Tao found his screens being painted with tiny numbers and alphabets one by one.

“Tao? What is it?”

“What’s going on?”

Barked Takio and M-21 in alarm; they did not define themselves as computer-friendly type, but they had enough knowledge to tell that such phenomenon takes place usually when there is a technical issue or its sort.

Not to mention Tao’s face was all they needed to see that something has gone terribly wrong.

“No, no, no...! Our server...!”

Tao yelled as he was slamming the keyboard with his entire fingers.

And right then Murphy’s Law decided to spit in their faces.

Pzzt...!

Everyone’s face blinked off as if promised, and instead the monitors were refilled with noises that made the RK’s eyes bleed just by staring.

“What the heck is going on...?!”

*****

“Tao? Mr. Jang? Doctor? Dr. Adne?”

Frankenstein was almost wailing for everyone’s name as well.

To no avail, of course.

“What is it? Just tell me what the hell it is!”

Frankenstein’s cry scattered into an echo unreciprocated, as he was clutching onto his monitor.

So he had no idea there was a pair of blue eyes watching him from his back.

‘Stage 1 is complete.’

Cause disturbance with everyone’s server the moment QuadraNet comes alive.

Therefore, make sure no one can pay attention to anything other than the sudden technical chaos, including what he and Helga will stir up in the future.

It was not an easy task, but they made it.

The 3rd Elder silently removed himself from the back of the stage, his mind winding back to the face of their accomplice, who happened to be featuring on one of Frankenstein’s monitors just a while ago.

(next chapter)

Perhaps it would feel a little rushed to bring about trouble so soon, when the previous chapter featured Frankenstein and Lunark’s first kiss, but now things will start taking the wrong turns. I mean, it’s no fun if there are no troubles or challenges in a fic lol. By the way, I started adding links on each chapter that can take you to previous/next chapter (you can find the link to previous chapter at the top, and the link to the next chapter at the bottom). I’ll add the links to all previous chapters very soon!

#korean webcomic #korean webtoon #noblesse #frankensteinxlunark #frankenstein #lunark #wolfsbane

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