#part of me feels stupid for being so dramatic and worked out about a video game

[yali-the-sloth]

If someone told me last November that a year from then I’d be procrastinating doing anything BUT continuing my playthrough of the newly released dragon age game I’d call them crazy. I’m extremely tolerable to bullshit. The amount of objectively bad media I am able to enjoy is really high. I have been willing to forgive BioWare for a lot of bad game dev decisions. But not for the bad writing. So here we are.

I have not opened the game in a week now. Something broke in me when after 50 hours I finally reached act 2. So many people said it’s supposed to get better starting from that point. But I’m sorry, what exactly got better? Why is the story suddenly just ‘go do your companion quests!’? Where’s the freaking plot???

I can’t get rid of the feeling as if the game has been chopped into pieces at the last minute, rearranged by throwing out like 3/4 of the writing bits and then hastily sewn together.

[hard-core-super-star]

Tmz vacation pictures. My bad.

the sweetest torture one could bear [H.Steinfeld]

full request: Hi, I have part of a request. Aha, I didn't know what else to put with it, so do with that what you will. Instead of JA being in the videos and photos with Hailee, it's Reader.

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: when you and hailee are flown out on vacation to promote your growing 'relationship', you find out there's more than meets the eye when it comes to the actress...and your feelings for her.

warnings: enemies-to-lovers type vibe with a semi-happy ending; PR relationship + stunts; like two JA mentions; R being a jerk to hailee and vice versa; so many petty arguments and hidden feelings; R is technically also famous but it never gets expanded upon whoops; 110% got carried away because of lacy by olivia rodrigo

wordcount: 2.5k

a/n: i know you said you didn't have anything in mind, lovely anon, but i think i took your idea and RAN with it. i just needed someplace to put all the emotions hailee's been bringing out of me lately with the stupid JA situation so i can continue to write fics for her. that's why the NY stunt is still a thing that happens in this fic. hope you enjoy despite how scathing some of my comments can be in this <3

* * * * * * *

Dating a famous celebrity is supposed to be fun. At least that’s what you imagine things would be like if you were dating anyone but Hailee freaking Steinfeld.

Although, to be fair, the word dating technically doesn’t apply to your situation.

Even calling it a PR relationship is incredibly generous. You’re pretty much just damage control after whatever mess happened in New York with her and that quarterback.

Of course, it was a mess she created and once it blew up in her face she was forced to retreat and avoid looking like a bigger asshole…which is where you come in. You don’t know how or why but somehow you got roped into things and now you’re being forced to help the brunette clean up her image.

Maybe forced is being dramatic but your team didn’t even let you attempt to talk them out of the idea and instead shoved you onto a private plane headed to Mexico City for a Fourth of July mini-vacation with the one and only Hailee Steinfeld.

Also known as the one person you’d never willingly go out with. Much less on a mini-vacation that only has one goal: get as many paparazzi as possible to take pictures of the two of you so speculation will run wild and distract Hailee’s fans from the New York stunt.

You have no doubt the plan will work which just pisses you off even more.

You’re not new to this life of hiding or the lies it comes with but there’s something about the way the brunette handles things that just rubs you the wrong way. She straddles the border between genuine and fake so often that you’re sure she doesn’t even know who she is most days.

Hence her constant disappearances from the public eye nowadays. Disappearances that just make her stunts with the quarterback even more confusing.

You’re not here to figure the actress out though, you just have to fake a few smiles, hold her hand, and pretend you actually like each other. The media and her fans will do the rest.

Whether the result of your stunt ends with people speculating you're in a relationship or just a public denunciation of her connection to said quarterback is ultimately up to her team so all you two really have to do is pretend.

Something that would be easy…if your distaste for each other wasn’t so obvious.

“Did your lovely team forget the part where we’re not actually a couple?” You question the second you arrive at your hotel room, only to find a single king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

“Why do you assume it was my team that messed up?” She fires back, eyebrow raised in defiance.

You roll your eyes as you finish wheeling your suitcase inside. You don’t even bother to argue about who gets the bed and instead put your things down on the couch set up in the corner of the room. After all, you’re still a gentleman. “Because this whole thing was their idea.”

“They actually know how to do their job, unlike some people.” Her verbal jab isn’t lost on you and it quickly silences the small voice in your head that was urging you to try and get along with her.

“And what’s my job? Pretending you’re the center of the universe?”

“It’d be a nice start.”

“Too bad I’m not the academy-award nominated actress here.” Out of anyone else’s mouth, it would be a compliment but you both know that’s not the way you meant those words.

Hailee doesn’t say anything in response. She just glares at you as if that’ll make you disappear.

Unfortunately, it doesn't, which means you’re still stuck in this same situation with the same pair of eyes that wish they could send you six feet underground…or, at the very least, six rooms away from her.

That glare is more than enough to draw the conversation to a close for the moment. The awkward silence that sticks around instead is just as bad though and you’re actually glad when Hailee’s phone goes off.

You watch, with a slightly amused smile, as the actress argues with one of the many poor souls from her PR team.

She’s clearly not as amused as you are considering the string of curse words that reverberate around the small room. You pick up enough information to know there’s already a plan and a schedule for the pap shots so the two of you have to be on top of your game sooner rather than later.

There’s a split second during the phone call where your eyes meet hers and everything else seems to fade away for those few moments. 

There’s no badly suppressed annoyance in her eyes, no vacant look that represents the hundreds of walls she’s put up to keep you locked out of her mind and heart. For the briefest of seconds, she seems…real. It’s as if the mask she so easily wears to hide who she is slips and leaves behind the uncertainty she seems to detest so much.

Ironically, that uncertainty would make her a lot more bearable in your opinion.

The moment ends as quickly as it started and in no time at all, you’re back to being passive-aggressive while pretending to like each other.

“So, what’s the plan here?” You hate how much you care about not further ruining her life by messing up the pap shots. “Last time I checked, you weren’t out of your glass closet yet.”

“Are you saying you check up on me often?” She replies as she gets into the private pool next to you.

For some reason, her team had decided the two of you should kick things off with some pool pictures before going out to dinner tomorrow night. It’s a pretty ridiculous idea but nothing screams summer romance like paparazzi pictures at the pool and/or the beach. 

“Yeah, it’s like watching a trainwreck. I can’t look away no matter how hard I try.”

“Funny.” 

She sits across from you and you do all you can to stop your eyes from wandering across her face. It’s impossible to deny how attractive she is, no matter how long her list of contradicting personality traits is.

You assume she’s forgotten about your question until she speaks up a few moments later. “There’s no real plan. We don’t have to actually kiss for people to think there’s something going on.”

“What a relief.” 

The brunette rolls her eyes at you but no snarky comeback escapes her lips. It might be too insignificant to call it progress but at least you’re having a conversation that doesn’t turn into an argument.

Nothing significant happens after that besides Hailee spotting the paparazzi and both of you pulling the most authentic smiles you can muster onto your faces. Turns out, the fake smiling is the easy part, finding something to talk about is the hard part.

You let her talk up and down about Hawkeye and Across the Spiderverse until you’re finally able to go back to hiding inside the hotel room.

It pains you to admit it but she’s not half bad when she’s talking about her projects. Being alone certainly helps ease some of her anxieties and you’re sure her people-pleasing tendencies have disappeared around you. (You’re not sure if that’s a compliment or not...not that you care either way.)

You push away your slightly conflicting, and borderline confusing, feelings as you make your way back into your room. 

And maybe your eyes wander down to her abs a few times and maybe you catch her looking your way once or twice but that doesn’t matter. Sharing one moment with her where she feels like an actual person instead of a walking brand deal isn’t going to change your mind about her.

You make it back into the room and a few peaceful minutes go by until Hailee’s phone goes off once again, her face twisting from annoyance to shock to genuine dread in the span of five seconds. You can’t explain why but something inside you urges you to step out onto the balcony and leave her alone. 

So you do just that.

Contrary to the way you act when you’re around her, you do sort of care for her in ways you’d rather not think about. It’s just hard to show that side of yourself when she does everything in her power to get under your skin. It might not be on purpose but that doesn’t make it any less grating. 

You rise to your feet and grab the towels you had left hanging on the back of a chair. You don’t say a word as you slide the balcony door open but you swear you hear her mumble out a thank you before you slip outside.

Maybe things between you two aren’t so hopeless after all.

It might be wishful thinking but things are surprisingly calm for the next few hours. It's not until you’re getting ready to fall asleep and forget everything that’s happened today that she speaks to you again.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch, y’know? The bed is big enough for both of us.”

You turn to look at her, doing a terrible job of hiding the surprised look on your face. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine, y/n.” She shrugs as if sharing a bed with her isn’t a big deal. “Just don’t snore or I’ll kick you to the ground.”

“Yes, ma’am,” you reply sarcastically.

A tense silence fills the room after that and neither of you makes any attempts to break it. Hailee busies herself with double-checking that everything is locked while you climb into bed, turning onto your side and attempting to put as much space as possible between the two sides of the bed.

She turns the lights off, leaving you in the darkness with a rapidly beating heart. You’re not sure why you’re nervous but you have a feeling falling asleep is going to be almost impossible tonight.

You lay there for what feels like hours, doing your best not to think about how close your bodies are right now. You saw her in a bikini earlier today, why are you freaking out over sharing the same bed?

You’re in the middle of mentally arguing with yourself when you hear Hailee let out a series of deep breaths. Anxiety isn’t a stranger to you and you suddenly worry something might have triggered a panic attack.

“You okay?” You speak up despite yourself. “Did you finally realize you fucked over your queer fans with the QB stuff?”

You can’t help but poke the bear even when you’re supposed to be checking up on her. 

She doesn’t respond and a few seconds later, you hear her sniffle, the guilt immediately hitting you like a runaway train. “Hailee? I’m sorry, I shouldn't have said that.”

“Republic dropped me.” Her voice is barely audible but there’s no denying the pain it carries.

The urge to turn around and look at her is far too strong for you to ignore so you take a deep breath before giving in. You turn onto your other side so you’re facing her, not wanting to ruin her moment of vulnerability by appearing uninterested. 

Her eyes are trained on the ceiling above her but you can make out the glimmer of unshed tears in the warm pool of her eyes. She doesn’t give you a chance to speak up, she just continues as if you’re not looking at her with real empathy in your gaze for the first time since you met.

“I should’ve seen it coming, you know? With all the hesitation and the drawn-out meetings. Coast was supposed to be my chance to prove myself and it did nothing. I hoped rushing SunKissing would fix things but it just made everything worse.”

“And then New York happened,” you mumble.

“Yeah-” Her voice breaks and you hate the way your heart aches for her. “I should’ve just owned up to it but I couldn’t. I didn’t want to admit I was grasping at straws so when my team told me to bring you into this mess…I didn’t know what else to do.”

“Saying no would have been a good start.”

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles as she turns her head to the side, allowing your eyes to meet in the darkness. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

The sincerity in her words strikes you “Oh, come on, I’m no saint. I’ve been nothing but a pain in the ass since we got here.”

“You're right. You're awful.”

“Shut up, Steinfeld.”

She laughs. 

An actual laugh that makes the corners of her glossy eyes crinkle up in a way that makes your heart skip a couple of beats. You’re sure you’ve never made her laugh like that in the time you’ve known each other. 

And you hate the way you’re already obsessed with the sound.

“We don’t have to keep doing this,” she says suddenly before fully turning her body toward you. “It was a stupid idea anyway, it’s not going to change people’s minds.”

“Maybe you’re the one who has to change her mind.” You offer the only advice you can think of. “Pretending like everything’s okay isn’t doing you any favors, Lee.”

The nickname slips out of your mouth without a second thought. You don’t even realize you said it out loud until Hailee questions you about it. “Lee? Five hours ago you wanted me out of your life and now you’re giving me a nickname?”

“Five hours ago I wasn’t sure you even had feelings.”

Your comment would have surely earned you a glare earlier but now you get a smile instead. “Point taken.”

“I mean it, though. Stop doing what you think everyone else wants you to do and do what you want. You owe yourself that much.”

“The things I want will just make things worse,” she says, the smallest of frowns tugging at her lips.

“Maybe it’s worth it.”

You have no idea what her words truly mean until you catch her eyes drifting down to your lips.

Everything inside of you tells you to make a joke, or piss her off, or at the very least, turn around and pretend to go to sleep. Anything to stop both of you from making a huge mistake.

But then her hand reaches out to touch your waist and you find yourself leaning toward her without a second thought.

It’s stupid and reckless and the last thing you should add to this already messy situation and yet it’s the only thing you want to do. You don’t want to argue with her anymore, you just want her. Even if it’s only for the night.

“What are we doing?” You whisper, your lips barely inches away from hers.

“I don’t know…do you want me to stop?”

You meet her eyes and reach your decision. “No.”

It’s all the encouragement she needs to close the gap between you, her lips claiming yours in a surprisingly soft kiss. You tangle your hand in her hair to pull her closer as a thought suddenly dawns on you.

There’s no way to deny how attracted you are to her. No way to deny how drawn you are to her despite all the things that get under your skin about her. 

No way to deny that you’re actually falling for Hailee Steinfeld.

Shit.

[silversodas]

There Is A Song That Vox and Val Remind Me Of

Lose Control by Teddy Swims.

So starting with Val’s temper tantrum and what Velvette said about waiting for Vox to calm him down. I thought that was…odd, especially for a grown ass man. When he gets to the suit where Val is fuming is where the song part comes in

“Feels like the walls are all closing in, and the Devils knocking at my door”

The Red smoke is the social poison that Val carried around in life that manifested itself as a literal poison in death. He is sitting and stewing in his own poison and wants relief given by Vox

“Outta my mind, how many times, did I tell you I am no good at being alone? Yea It’s taken a toll on me, trying my best to keep from tearing the skin off my bones”

FUCKING FINALLY!!

I thought that was just to show how dramatic of a bitch Val was (and he is) but think it’s to show he suffers from his own bullshit, his own poison, and Vox is what gives him relief

“I am falling apart right in front of you can’t you see!!”

Val was more or less trapped in his own bullshit cloud and making it everyone else’s problem, and it’s only when he vents it to Vox that he is starting to noticeably get better. And honestly I feel pretty bad for Vox here, because we kinda know now that they are dating, and Val is venting about some other fucking dude that he obsesses over. I mean I totally get why he doesn’t seem to like Angel now. (Even though Val is the one at fault) What’s interesting though is he doesn’t enable Val like a lot of piss babies like Val go to their S.Os for

(I borrowed some of these images from a video called Vox being a mood and that’s why only some images have texts on them)

I love that Vox’s old time tv voice sounds more distorted and demonic the angrier he gets, he could be as creepy as Alastor if he wanted to be

“I lose control when your not next to me”

What do you think chasing whores around town will do for our image?

Uh..fuck it up?

RIGHT!!

Feels like you could have come to that conclusion yourself there Val. I mean yeah maybe he is just stupid, but it feels like Vox is 100% of Val’s impulse control, he keeps Val from losing control, not only that, he seems to help Val think more clearly and without so much poisonous emotion

I really wanted to shoot someone

Well, let me send up the lowest earners this month

At this point Val sounds completely snapped out of it, and doesn’t sound angry anymore. And Vox, while he doesn’t enable Val, he does coddle him and that’s not any better, if anything it just encourages Val to act like this when something is wrong and Vox will come and fix it.

It seems that Vox has not set boundaries with Val that he can’t act like that to get his attention and that if he needs him when he is distressed then he needs to talk to him, not kill employees and destroy work property. And because he coddles Val’s behavior it keeps happening and Vox resents him for it

And to make things worse, Val does the opposite for Vox, he spreads his poison and encourages Vox’s impulses and bad emotions

(Seriously! I looooovvvee how creepy his tv voice can sound, hmm maybe it’s just another way he and Alastor are alike. Also his voice actor did such a good job with the delivery of this line! It’s so unsettling)

You can see the poison taking effect when it’s coming out of the side of his mouth

Teddy Swims said he wrote the song based off of toxic relationships and how addictive they can sometimes be. And I need to see more of their relationship, but I definitely think that’s the case with these two

[questionablequeeries]

Your Kiss Is On My List by Hall and Oates

“Kiss me.”

“…Excuse me?” Steve looked at Eddie, who was slightly out of breath as he burst into the Family Video, clutching a paper and camera.

“Kiss me so I can get a picture.” Eddie clarified, thereby making shockingly even less sense.

Steve put a hand on his hip and arched a brow, “Why?” He highly doubted it was a spur of the moment thing, though there was the less logical part that screamed at him to shut up and accept the man’s offer.

Eddie let out a long, dramatic sigh before slapping his paper onto the counter, “I’m doing a scavenger hunt. You know, the one the radio station’s putting on?”

“…Okay?”

“And the more outlandish the thing you can bring in, the more points you get.” Eddie stopped there as if that should be obvious, and Steve was impressed by the much longer, far more dramatic sigh when he realized there were no dots being connected. He wondered if he should applaud, “I have everything except the last thing, and that’s worth the most.”

Steve’s eyes trailed down to the bottom of the page before he frowned, “‘The impossible’? Eddie, if this is because it’s impossible for me to kiss boys, I think I’ve been out way too long for it to shock anyone that I’m bi.” And he wasn’t stupid, knew the influence of the Harrington name protected him slightly from the backlash Eddie received for the very same ‘crime’. Well, similar. Eddie was completely gay, and Steve wasn’t planning on looking too deeply inside of himself to figure out why that delighted him.

Eddie rolled his eyes, “No, it’s because it’s impossible for King Steve to be kissing The Freak. I’ll get, like, a billion points for that!” He grinned like he hadn’t said something that absolutely broke Steve’s heart.

“Hey, why do you think that?” Steve frowned, the joyful air sucked out of the room.

“Because you’re perfect and I’m literally just me.” Eddie crossed his arms and looked down, toeing the carpet with his sneaker, “You’re everything I’m not, so it’s kinda tough to think you’d ever go for someone like me.” He shrugged his shoulders, “Not exactly a catch as a super super super senior.”

“You only had to repeat because you were in a coma.” Steve argued, “And you were in a coma because you were saving Dustin. That deserves some accolades.”

Eddie shrugged again then sighed, but this time it was far too real for Steve’s liking, “Look, can I get the picture or not? Daylight’s burning.” He waggled his Polaroid.

“…Fine.” Steve nodded, grabbing a sticky note and scribbling something down. He leaned over and there were sudden sparks waiting for him. He was sure his heart was about to beat right out of its chest as he was enveloped by the scent of cigarettes and cologne, the taste of Hubba Bubba, the feeling of slight chap and the beginning of a five o’clock shadow. With a flash of light, it was over far too soon for his liking.

Eddie grabbed the picture as it printed, shaking it to make it dry faster, “Thanks, I’ll be sure to buy you something with the prize mo-“ His voice caught in his throat as he stared down, face becoming a new and exciting shade of red. Yes, there was the kiss but, below it, was a post-it note clutched between Steve’s thumb and forefinger, facing the camera: ‘Eddie, will you go out with me this Friday? -Steve’

Steve decided to break the stretching silence, “You could buy me dinner.” And his grin grew to match the one before him, both equally delighted by the possibility of the impossible.

The newest prompt by @steddie-week, and you can follow along on AO3:

[lemuel-apologist]

In thinking about Cait Corrain (after watching ReadswithRachel's and Don't Fret's videos), I do think there is something to be said about the efficacy of instant feedback on your work. It was something D specifically brought up in the context of standup and open mics, but it reminded me of how Rachel brought up that Cait started off writing fanfiction. When you operate in communities online like this, you tend to expect a certain kind of feedback that you don't necessarily get from traditional publishing.

You also don't really, unless you're in a group that operates in the way of instant feedback, get that instant praise, commentary, or, yes, critique that you're used to. You do end up isolated; you do end up alone; and you don't get a feel for what works and what doesn't. When you put yourself out there, it's terrifying, and it's stupid, and it hurts-- not even to be rejected, but to fear being rejected. We all know it does. It's not exclusive to the neurodivergent. That's an intrinsically human feeling.

In the realm of feedback and stupid, human mentality, I know that I, personally, have a tendency to overreact and do dramatic things. That's true even when I'm medicated, apparently. (I'm saying this because I'm coming off of a week that ended in that. Don't focus too much on this part; it's a connection bit.)

The answer isn't to go out and explode, quit, and ruin my entire life-- or, in the case of authors we've seen, be extraordinarily racist, misogynistic, or otherwise lash out in writing or sideways-review because you think you are entitled to a certain kind of feedback you are not receiving. The answer is to take a step back, figure out why you're reacting like that, and, if you have done something like that (in my case, completely imploded; in the case of the relevant author, ruined so many people's debut reviews with racist screeds), figure out how to make amends for it.

D may not be saying that all writers should be less precious with their work-- but I would say to give it a try. Let a friend read it. Let someone else give it a go. The act of creation isn't something that you should bottle up in your stew of isolation. What you make is just as much a part of you as you are of it. It might help you be less possessive of your ideas when the little cheddar goblin pulls at your meninges.

And for goodness's sake, don't blame your racism on your mental illness.

[hanzajesthanza]

by the way, i wanted to thank everybody for so many kind, encouraging, and thoughtful responses to my first video. (slight vent post :>)

it did indeed take a lot of work and a lot out of me, a lot of research, multiple stupid all-nighters… but as unhealthy as it was, it was actually really good for me, i think. it was a real experiment, i honestly haven’t worked so hard on something since my thesis to graduate last year.

i felt cathartic, that i had it in me to make something like this, that i’m not useless…

i mean, i know i’m not, but ever since graduation i’ve felt so, so burned out and as a result of that, just, stupid and inexperienced compared to everyone else in my field, socially isolated, agoraphobic, even, in some cases.

(i’m one of those people that worked really hard in high school and college, and now that i’ve graduated it’s like, who am i? what is my purpose? what is my value? add burnout to that, and you have a year of feeling guilty that i’m not killing myself constantly with projects.)

so to be able to actually fucking make something that not only took a lot of work, but had me constantly pushing my comfort zone, reorganizing my space (physically and digitally) and just trying my hardest to get it done… on top of it, being really, really be passionate about what i was working on… it feels like…

it feels like, if a close friend of yours died a year ago… and you went numb with mourning… but then you just got news that they’re alive…

but the thing is, that friend is you.

it’s funny how dramatic i’m being, because i actually decided today that i don’t like the video much, and that it’s not very well-produced. (it only took me two-to-four days to start hating my artwork, of course. well, i had a good time being proud of myself while it lasted).

it’s something along the lines of calanthe’s “i hope my outburst didn’t offend you. the form, not the content.” i hope this video didn’t offend you—the form, not the content. i’m secure in the content, the research. but the form… again, like calanthe’s, very ‘in the moment.’

i woke up this morning really mad at myself for making some creative decisions that i feel cheapen the whole thing. (i don’t know what posessed me to use my accent color for a background color, it makes the whole thing look gaudy and unprofessional. i guess i just didn’t want a boring white background, but ugh… that is going to be on my list of regrets for a while).

but i placated myself knowing that the video does its job as a biography and a source of information. and the fact that youtubers sometimes remake their first videos later in their careers. (well, at least my first video is a topic that will never go out of style, it’s an essential, expository, evergreen topic of interest). and that i will make more videos, improving one thing at a time. one thing at a time. slow steps to progress.

i want to make engaging videos, but it’s really difficult because i don’t think i have a very engaging personality… it’s very “book report”-ish at the moment, lmao, i’d like to be myself. if i know who that person is.

i had a ton of anxiety about how i would be judged or what if i got it entirely wrong… (i rerecorded some parts due to this and i think that may have been a bad decision, because the cuts sound terrible, but anyways). but everyone was so encouraging and just had such a warmhearted reception to it, i don’t think i expected that. i expected mean comments for some reason, idk lol. i also expected way more pushback and cringe because i was talking about sapkowski (who, as we all know, is not very popular, for some reasons more valid than others). so i honestly have no idea where the positivity came from, except your own good souls and goodwill towards me, which is astounding, so thank you.

i want to make more videos and improve. and grow the channel, so it can serve people who are interested in the books. the books deserve something of their own, their own space. i know they’ve had their own space for as long as they’ve existed, but this would be my space for them. if that makes sense. i’m carving out an intentional space for the witcher books, slowly but surely, it will get there with time.

at the same time, i have to balance this with real life. ugh, real life. i might have serious committments this week, but i have no idea... the exact details yet. essentially, committments that may eat up all my time to the point where i’ll have no time for this large crazy video experiment after all.

my name, nimue, is… an emanation of myself. like krzysztof’s katarzyna. a poet’s name.

my person that exists within book pages, the mind, and the web. but not in real life. or rather, not yet in real life. i think they’re stuck somewhere between the screen and the floor.

i’d like to bring them to life, soon. but it will take time, work. i have no idea if i’ll have that kind of time soon. i have no idea what adulthood brings me in terms of commitments. it hurts me to abandon nimue like this. for once, i was able to bargain something for them, release myself, give into the creative flow. i spent a week being them, i think that’s the longest nimue has ever existed in the real world. and now… i have to jump back into my ‘real’ self again. “no fun allowed.” damn it. and i had just tasted that freedom, that creation.

all i know is that i can’t let them die. though i think they’re immortal inside me, after all. and perhaps one day we’ll become the same person. it could happen!

[pbandjesse]

So I did not feel better today. I felt worse actually. But I was convinced I just needed to suck it up. I would convince myself that I was actually fine and was faking it. Which is stupid but I kept convincing myself and then would cough so hard I would start crying.

When I woke up I was not happy. James left while I was still getting ready because they wanted to beat the rain. I think if they stayed a little longer they would have convinced me to stay home. But instead I got myself together best I could and went down to the car.

It was raining and cold. But it was warm in the car.

Driving to camp was a little rough only because I kept coughing up stuff. And was feeling really gross and bad.

When I got to camp I immediately went up to stockade to find the mushroom from the other day. And it was just turning black and so I plucked it and was very pleased.

I got back to the office and would answer some emails and get some things sorted. I continued to work on my pine needles sewing. It's going better. I want to start a new one soon so I can try to start the middle in a better way. But I think I'm getting the hang of it.

I was confused when no one came in at 9. And then not 930. Closer to 10 Alexi and Elizabeth came in, with Sarah following not long after. I was sort of deteriorating at this point. My cough was becoming more frequent and painful.

I tried to have conversations but I was so hard to be heard. And I could only do so much. We have two Native American feildtrips next week so I would do what I could to get things set up. But it will be a little bit of a mad rush on Monday morning.

I would struggle through until right before noon. But by then I was coughing and had to put my head down on the table to catch my breath. I had tried going up to the arts building and coughing my lungs out, thinking I could dislodge all the gunk in my lungs. But it just made me feel dizzy.

Before I left I thought about going to target. But I just wanted to go home.

The drive back was good. I had talked to Elizabeth about a nerd rapper I had forgotten about and so I got to relisten to some of my highschool music and that was very fun. Made for a good drive home. Even with the rain.

I got back here before 1230. And was happy to be back.

But I also felt stupid. Like I was being dramatic. I wasn't even coughing! I was obviously fine and had been lying. And then I would breath weird and started coughing so hard I thought I was going to throw up. It was pretty horrible.

But because I am stupid I would be fine for a while. And started vacuuming and adding water to the fish tanks and cleaning the kitty litter. And would be fine! I'm obviously all better! But then would cough so hard I would cry. I hate this so much.

The worse and most annoying part is that I feel find behind the voice and the cough. I'm not nauseous. My chest is a little sore but my body doesn't ache. So it's like my brain can't accept that I'm sick.

But I am trying. So I called out of my weekend plans. I'm really sad to miss my last BAS workshop on sunday. And I rescheduled my private lesson. And I'm not going to the market. I won't say I'm not sad. But I'm going to try really hard to actually rest and get well.

I would try to sleep but it didn't happen. I mostly watched videos. I made a few tiktoks because I was a little bored. I worked on my knitting some. I tried to sleep again but my water cup fell over in the bed and got me and the bed all wet. My world was obviously falling apart.

I moved to the couch to cuddle up there. I had taken some time to reorganize the mantle in the living room and change the layout a little. And I felt really good about that. I also pulled out some blankets from storage to put an extra on the couch and finally remember to put one in the car. Very productive.

James would come home and I was happy to see them. They would get to work making tortilla soup. I was coughing a lot and was kind of miserable but I was happy to have my husband home and safe.

There would be some waiting for the soup to be done but that was okay. Sweetp was crying at the door and we figured out that he's crying and talking to the car upstairs! I hope they are having a nice conversation.

The soup was really good. Very happy with the recipe I chose and James made it so nice. Love my husband. They would hang out with me on the couch. And Sweetp and me had a nice cuddle. I watched to many tiktoks. It was nice.

I took a bath while James made got chocolate. It burned my tongue a little but it was fine. I am pretending it fixed my chest pain. But it probably didn't do much.

I just finished painting my toes. And I'm going to go brush my teeth now. And get ready to sleep.

Tomorrow I will rest. And maybe draw or something small. I just want to feel better.

Goodnight everyone. Please cover your coughs.

[vizthedatum]

CW: Unhinged and loving it (also a vent):

I HAD MY FIRST HRT APPT TODAY AND I AM VERY WOOZY FROM TRANS EXCITEMENT, A LOT OF BLOOD DRAWS, A POSSIBLE INFECTION (currently unconfirmed and it could just be an autoimmune flare up) I WAS NOT AWARE OF, MY STUPID PERIOD, THE MYSTERIOUS NOISE FROM NEXT DOOR THAT JUST WON’T STOP, DEALING WITH MY STUPID CODEPENDENCY, LOVE FOR MY FRIENDS, A LACK OF ENOUGH FOOD TODAY, OVERWORKING AT WORK, AND BEING SINGLE.

It’s been a long month.

It’s been a long life.

—

I hate my ex-spouse and while I wish them healing and peace, they can quite literally self-sabotage themselves to oblivion and I will not flinch. In my world, they don’t exist except in my memories. I gave them the best I could - and they threw me away like I was trash. I hope their teeth rot out of their skull and they lose the ability to code in any code editor (a special Midas touch where every code editor they try to use will spit out incomprehensible code) - wow isn’t that so mean?

Omg wasn’t I the fucking “worst thing in your life” babe? Omg aren’t I just the worst? Aren’t I so silly?? Aren’t I so stupid that I didn’t press criminal charges against you because I loved you that much?

You roll your eyes in your well-practiced gaslighting manner, while you’re reading this even though you know it’s healthier for you not to: wow they’re so dramatic and unhinged, you think while downing your seventh energy drink and dissociating with drugs and video games.

To be quite honest… venting like this is therapeutic and cathartic for me. I am being completely genuine about this. You know what’s the traumatic part? Telling my new healthcare professionals while I’m going in for a much anticipated HRT appointment that I was abused by not only you but by so many people - that I am still traumatized by IUDs and by your stupid psychological abuse that I begged you to get help for. Yeah that’s what I’m bothered by.

But blogging and venting about all of it since I left… and looking at the beautiful life I have created and am still creating (even if I have my struggles)… THIS IS THE BEST THING EVER. I love that you’re completely out of my life.

I want to be even more monstrous than that pathetic ex made me out to be. That’s the goal: ULTIMATE VILLAIN ERA.

You think I was horrible back then? Watch me glow up and act even more unhinged. Watch me have my life together in ways you couldn’t even dream of.

—

More woozy venting:

SO for all the “straight cis guys” who have ever dated me: YOU ARE GAY

And for all the losers who benefited from me chasing them in a very self-admittedly toxic way: YOU GOTTA GO TO THERAPY TOO BABES

And to the Zionist I regrettably fucked in 2017: YOU WILL GET YOUR KARMA IN THE MOST UNEXPECTED WAY

And to one of my ex-partners from last year: YOU ARE VERY CORRECT IN YOUR SELF-ASSESSMENT THAT YOU ARE A SOCIOPATH

And to my parents: WTF - NO ACTUALLY WTF.

And to anyone who has ever hurt me or assaulted me: I am so sorry for whatever trauma you’re going through that enabled you to make those choices AND I FUCKING CURSE YOU

—

And to me: I don’t care anymore. I don’t have to justify my kindness or my fallibility as a human being. I don’t have to always be right. I certainly don’t want to feel like I’m crazy when I AM NOT. I don’t have to accept hurtful behavior and I don’t need a reason to. I don’t need to ignore hurtful things I do to myself. I am fine as I am.

(Well currently I’m running on very low sleep, low food intake, just had a very intense blood draw, and am on my period. I’m also nervous about my surgery tomorrow.

I am genuinely okay though. I am safe, and I am saner than I have been for a long time.)

[dycefic]

Have An Evil Day

No prompt this time, just a sequel to ‘Welcome To Evil-Mart’

Working at Evil-Mart is usually… well, it’s retail. It’s physically exhausting, you have to deal with a lot of idiots without being overtly rude, and your feet hurt. Even though the hours and pay are very good, the benefits are great, and our bosses treat us well compared to most retail employees, it’s still not what I’d call a fun job.

But it’s not what I’d call dull, either. Especially not on days like today.

I was promoted to supervisor after the Food Poisoning Incident, so I have a little more authority and a little less obligation to be pleasant and I got issued a weighted cosh because sometimes Evil-Mart customers get… feisty. I’d never had to use it, though, because those who hadn’t seen what I did to Majority Rules, either in person or on one of the cell-phone videos that circulated afterwards, had at least heard about it.  They didn’t give me any trouble.

I was halfway through my shift, and the worst things that’d happened had been running out of croissants and a machine oil spill in Aisle Seven, when our greeter pressed the alarm button, which sent an alert to my handset. As front-end supervisor, that meant me, so I went over. Sam, who is unusual in the henching community for having actually aged out rather than ‘being retired’ jerked his chin in the direction of a tall, swaggering figure. “He just came in,” he whispered.

I did a full double-take before I took it in. Superdyne. Fucking Superdyne.

We’d all heard about his dramatic heel-turn a couple of months ago. The whole world had heard about it. Superdyne, who’d skated closer and closer to the line for years, had decided to cross it in a blaze of bloodshed. He was a villain now, he said. There’d been a whole speech about how ingratitude had driven him to it blah blah blah.

I work at Evil-Mart. I’m from a hench family. If someone becomes a supervillain because they hate Mondays or want to turn us all into dinosaurs or whatever, I don’t judge. I will sell depth-charges and laser guns to anyone who can prove they’re over eighteen without hesitation. But even we get kind of grossed out by the ‘I am forced to turn evil because I haven’t been given enough love’ thing. People who are actually so fucked up by emotional abuse or neglect or some superhero killing their family, we’re fine with them. But they don’t say that’s why they do it, and most of them need a lot of therapy to even realize it. People who actually say that’s why are entitled dickwads.

And now the dickwad had walked into Evil-Mart like he was entitled. Like he thought he was one of us.

“Lockdown protocols,” I told Sam quietly. “On my authorisation.” That takes a minute or two, though, so I went over to talk to Superdyne. “Sir, I have to ask how you even knew where to find this place.”

He smirked at me. “I have my ways,” he said smugly. He’d either bribed or beaten someone, that was my guess. “So this is where the villains shop? We all thought you went to Wal-Mart.” He laughed, like he thought it was clever.

“Yes, so you all say,” I said dryly. I didn’t feel like pretending he was the first person to make the bad joke. “My next question, sir, is what made you think it was a good idea to come in here.”

He spread his hands. “I’m one of you now!” he said happily. “I’m a bad guy! So now I guess I shop where the bad guys shop!” He looked around, frowning a little. “Although I was expecting more weapons and explosives. A… more villainous atmosphere. I didn’t know Evil-Mart had fresh produce.”

“I don’t advise buying herbs here unless you’re a magical practitioner. Some of them have… unusual effects.” A lot of our produce is normal stuff, but some of it not only isn’t legal, it doesn’t exist anywhere else.

“Oh. Well, that makes sense. But the bright lights and the bakery?”

“We have excellent gluten-free breads. In many ways, Superdyne, this is just another store. We have sales, we mark down the breads in the afternoon, we even have a PA system.” I pulled out my handset, and thumbed the button that tied it to the PA. “Attention, shoppers,” I said in my most soothing Customer Service voice, which made him grin. “Evil-Mart wishes to inform you – “ The countdown on my handset reached zero, and I turned to look at the entrance as a huge blast door thudded down. That was the last part of the sequence – staff outside the area were already in lockdown and security were on their way. I smiled, and continued almost without a pause. “- That we are in lockdown at this time, due to the presence of Superdyne in the store. Please remain calm, and be advised that security are on their way to deal with the problem. If you have a personal grudge that you wish to address with Superdyne at this time, he is standing near Register Six with a stupid expression on his face.”

He was staring at me, stunned. “But… but…” he stammered, and damned if he didn’t look puzzled. “But I’m one of you now!”

“No,” I said flatly. “You were always evil, that’s true, but you’ll never be one of us. And for the record, I’m one of the people with a personal grudge. All those henchmen you’ve killed and maimed had families, asshole… and they all shop here.”

He swung at me, then, but I spent years in hench training. Even someone super-strong can be dodged, and once I slammed my cosh into his groin a few times his punches got a lot more aimless. Around then, Tiger Ty came over the register, claws out and snarling, and I figured I should stand out of the way.

About ten minutes later, I turned on the PA again. “Clean-up to Register Six,” I called, in the same special voice. “Category 7, class three. Shoppers, please be advised that lockdown is now lifted but Register Six will be closed until clean-up is completed.”

Hunter, who’d been working Register Six, came out from underneath it. He looked a little green. Well, he was still in his teens, this was probably his first fatal mobbing. “What’s Category 7?” he asked in a shaky voice. “I haven’t heard that before.”

“Biohazard.”

“Oh. Class three?”

“Send three people. He was a juicy one.” I stepped away from a spreading puddle of blood. “Run and get a couple of caution signs we can put around this mess.” I eyed it measuringly. “And one of those fifteen-gallon plastic tubs with a lid, I’ll damage it out.”

He eyed the mess. “Are you sure that’s big enough?”

“Yeah, the average human is only about seventeen gallons by volume, and I’m not going to put all the blood and mush in there, just the big pieces.”

He gulped. “Ah. Yes, ma’am.”

I called after him when he ran off. “One of the black tubs, not a clear one!” Which honestly should only be common sense, but you can’t count on a flustered teenager to have common sense.

We frown on killing customers at Evil-Mart, up to a point… but when a particularly murderous super-hero walks into our store, well, that’s something else. I’d have to fill out a ton of paperwork, though.

I had to chase off one of Doctor Malign’s minons and two members of the Genetic Reign before the clean-up crew arrived, both of whom urgently wanted samples. In the end I scraped a few pieces of liver and unidentified organ into two of the bags we use for possibly-contaminated money just to make them go away. (They’re good customers, and it was just going to go in the trash anyway.)

By the time the clean-up was done, all the big pieces were boxed up, and I’d finished the paperwork, my shift had been over for twenty minutes, and I’d been asked to come up to the boss’s office.

“Listen, I have no issues with how you handled the situation, I want you to know that.” Mr Trent leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingertips together. “It was quick, it was efficient, and… given your personal history with Superdyne, not to mention mine and that of half of our customer base… richly deserved.”

“Yes, sir,” I said. It came out too meek, and I cleared my throat and straightened up. It’s hard not to be intimidated by Mr Trent, when you’re in the same room with him. It’s not his fault, and he does his best, but even under the strictest control his fear-inducing powers tend to unsettle anyone who gets too close. We all know he’s not doing it on purpose and we try not to show our reactions. “Do you have any orders regarding the remains?”

“Doctor Order wants them.” He rubbed his chin. “Get someone from the pharmacy to prepare samples for him, please, including brain tissue. He’s our primary supplier, and we can’t offend him. As for the rest… as you know, I’m retired, and I don’t usually participate in the Endless War.” One of his hands dropped to his left thigh. His prosthetic leg is some of Doctor Order’s best work, but the injury that led to his retirement had been brutal even by our standards. “But this is different. Superdyne came here. To our place of safety. We need to make sure that doesn’t happen again.”

I nodded. “Do you want the remains dumped somewhere public? Some kind of dramatic display?”

“No. Something more direct.” He rubbed his chin again, then tapped the intercom on his desk. “Iris, please send up Miss Fedorova from Marketing and Mr Levy from the warehouse.”

“Yes, sir,” Iris responded, and he clicked off the intercom again.

“The three of you worked together very well, during the food poisoning incident,” he explained. “And I believe they can assist us in a satisfactory conclusion.” He hesitated, then smiled ruefully. “Perhaps you should wait outside until they get here. I can tell I’m unsettling you.”

“Sir, I know you’re not – “

“Not doing it on purpose.” He sighed. “I do appreciate how hard you all work to make me feel… accepted, I really do. But I’m very annoyed right now, which makes control more difficult for me, so I think we’d both be more relaxed if you waited outside while I do my meditation exercises.”

I waited outside. When the three of us went into his office again, the miasma of low-level fear was definitely a bit lighter, and he smiled. “All right. Now, this conversation is going to be very confidential, and I will remind you all of the agreements you signed when you were employed.” We all chorused agreement, and he nodded. “Good. Now, this is very much a secret, even among Evil-Mart staff, but we do have a few online clients who are… ah… on the other side of the fence.”

Ms Fedorova blinked. “What?”

Knuckles sighed. “We ship to a few heroes,” he explained. “The ones who are… less homo than sapiens, if you get my drift.”

I didn’t, and from her expression Ms Fedorova didn’t either. Mr Trent spread his hands, drawing our eyes to his fingers. Which as a rule nobody looks at, because there’s fourteen of them, with four joints in each finger, and we know he’s self-conscious about it. “The less… purely human ones,” he said quietly. “One of the reasons I created Evil-Mart was to give those who can’t pass for human, like me, a place to be… people. To have dignity. So that the obligate carnivores weren’t reduced to living on pet-food or scavenging for scraps, so that those with complex metabolisms could get the supplements they need so that people who are still people, for all their outward differences, could shop in safety. There are a great many more monsters, demigods, abominations of science and other non-standard persons among our set than among the heroes, and I wanted to meet their needs, as well as selling weapons and Lair-away-from-home sets and so on.”

“And there are a few heroes who order from us for that reason,” Knuckles added. “The ones who can’t get medications to suit their metabolism, or need to eat things that you can’t get easily anywhere else.”

I nodded, because that much I understood. We have some very esoteric ‘dietary supplies’ that start with fresh, healthy, well-treated and disease-free prey animals frozen whole (from mouse up to calf and goat kept in stock, larger sizes by pre-order, halal and kosher certified where possible) and end with human blood (rejected blood bank stock mostly, we have an arrangement), and human flesh and organs (sourced from hospitals, morgues and crematoriums, guaranteed no murder, at least not by us). “Well, I suppose that makes sense. I’m surprised we ship to them, though.”

“Oh, they don’t know we know. It’s all assumed names and secret bank accounts.” Knuckles grinned. “But Mr Trent has all our online customers identified before we ship. And for the ones who don’t have any other options, well… we let it slide.”

“I can see why you don’t want that to get out.” Ms Fedorova tapped her chin. “What does this have to do with disposing of the body? I was planning to set up a really ghoulish display in a public place somewhere, I already have some sketches.” Marketing for Evil-Mart is… well, it includes more than designing our sale flyers.

“No. We’re going to deliver them to a hero… one of the ones who owes us… and make it very clear that just because someone decides to admit he’s a villain, that doesn’t make him one of us and it doesn’t entitle him to union services,” Mr Trent said flatly. “I want to make it crystal clear to all of them that a heel turn does not mean their sins are forgiven, or that we will accept them as anything other than a very brief amusement.”

Late that night – we were all on overtime, but it couldn’t be done in daylight – we wheeled a cart down the run-down hallway of a shoddy apartment building. “This is a terrible address for a hero,” Ms Fedorova muttered. “Are we sure he lives here?”

“I deliver here a couple of times a month.” Knuckles was pushing the cart. “I’m sure.”

“Okay.” Ms Fedorova cleared her throat, coughed once or twice, and suddenly her voice was deeper and her very faint Russian accent was as thick as pea soup. “This is intimidation tactic,” she said, grinning toothily. “Do not act surprised.”

I knocked on the door, but let Knuckles do the talking. “Delivery, Mr West,” he called, using the fake name the guy had been giving.

It worked… the door was unlocked and opened almost immediately. “I scheduled the order for next – “ the mark said, and then we were pushing inside, slamming the door behind us.

“Do not be alarmed, Mr… Dinoid, is it?” Ms Fedorova said, folding her arms. “Evil-Mart is knowing all along your real identity. But you are needing to eat, and we are not turning down regular business, so we make no trouble.”

Knuckles rolled his eyes behind her back at how much she was hamming it up, but I waved a hand. Let her have her fun. So Knuckles started unloading the boxes onto the table while she talked. “First, your Budget Bunny Box. Your favourite, da?” The next box, smaller, plunked down. “Two fresh chickens, halal certified, healthy and having lived good life, gift for good customer.” Knuckles dumped the plastic tub on the floor. “And mortal remains of Superdyne, with note.”

Dinoid was staring at us, but that made him shift into a combat stance, his long claws spread. “The… Superdyne’s dead? And in there?”

“Well. Most of him. The big pieces.” Ms Fedorova shrugged an impressively Russian shrug. I hadn’t even known that was a thing, but when she did it, it was obvious. “You must understand, when a mob tears a man apart, it is hard to find every little piece.”

“I’m pretty sure Doctor Malign and the Genetic Reign took off with doggy bags,” I said, as if I hadn’t handed them over myself. “And Doctor Order probably has some of him too, by now. So looking out for clones would be a good idea, I don’t know if that’s in the note.”

Insofar as that reptilian face could show readable expressions, he looked shocked. “Why on earth would… why? He changed sides? And why did you bring him to me?”

“We know your address, we know you don’t want to turn us in because we’re the only ones who can supply your meals, and our boss wanted us to make this very clear.” I indicated the note. Since Ms Fedorova was hamming up her Sexy Russian Supervillain act, and Knuckles was very obvious Muscle, I figured it was on me to be the Reasonable One. “He might have stopped being a hero, but that didn’t make him one of us. That didn’t make him acceptable to us. Our boss wants it made very clear that your failures shouldn’t expect to be accepted by us… or even spared by us.”

He shifted slowly, the tip of his tail twitching. “I… see. I understand why you would reject Superdyne. He was notorious for killing and maiming people on… your side. But I know other defectors have been accepted. Philomel, for example.”

“Philomel was child of villains. She is young, she is rebellious, she sides with heroes for a while.” Ms Fedorova shrugged. “Is understandable, da? The young do foolish things. She comes home, all is forgiven.”

He nodded slowly. “Tenebrous?”

“That story I don’t know.” Ms Fedorova glanced at me.

I nodded. “Tenebrous was just a kid. He was twelve when Varide recruited him. Nineteen when he broke with the guy. Varide put a kid into combat, left him with massive PTSD, then ditched him when he had a breakdown and went too far. Mx Frantique at least made sure he had a safe place to stay and some therapy.”

“It’s happened a few times.” Knuckles rested his elbows on the cart’s handles, his inhumanly big, strong hands dangling. “But there’s a process. A system. If someone’s sponsored by a villain in good standing, like Frantique sponsoring Tenbrous, they can be accepted. Nobody gets to just choose to join. Especially not a smug, entitled prick like Superdyne.”

Ms Fedorova suddenly leaned forward, scowling. “And why are you called Dinoid? You are not dinosaur. You are clearly monitor lizard. Golden monitor, I think.” She reached out and prodded his arm. “And not healthy, either. Look at colouration! You do not keep environment humid enough. Are having trouble with shedding, da?”

Now we were all staring at her. “You’re a lizard expert now?” Knuckles asked.

She shrugged. “What? Is hobby. Mamma’s little Varanus Acanthurus are pride and joy. Sadly, cannot keep larger monitors in city. Is unkind.”

Dinoid ran a hand over his head slowly. “Not many people realize,” he said slowly. “That’s why I order from you guys. I used to get frozen… food… from a pet supplier, but then I got contacted by someone who told me there was another option.”

“Is good thing. Those pet suppliers, they are rogues. They do not keep animals healthy, can get diseases or mites from those things.” Ms Fedorova sniffed. “I would never buy from them. My babies would get sick.”

He actually chuckled, then, seeming to relax a bit. “You’re not wrong. After… this happened… I got really sick a couple of times before I figured out what to eat, and where to get it. And even the reputable suppliers don’t always have the healthiest stock.” He opened his mouth wide, making a gagging noise. “You have no idea how bad that ‘reptile food’ is. Eating whole animals may be a little disgusting, but it’s nothing to some of that stuff.”

“I believe it,” I said emphatically. “There’s a reason Evil-Mart has such an extensive pet-food line. The horror stories we hear from some of our customers… well, you’d believe it, I bet, but most humans just look confused.”

Knuckles nodded, and spread his hands. “People who can’t pass for regular humans… or even for people, the way most normies see it… are a lot more common on our side of the fence than yours. That’s why we delivered to you. We figured you really needed it.”

“Does he order from the pharmacy?” Ms Fedorova was around behind him now, examining his back. “He is having calcium deficiency, am betting. He needs nutritional supplement.”

“I take a nutritional supplement,” he said defensively.

“The one for normal-sized lizards is not enough for man-sized monitor/human hybrid,” she said firmly. “Check pharmacy section next time. We are having excellent selection of supplements for hybrids, and chart to tell you how much to take for body-mass.”

He looked back and forth between the three of us. “You people are… not what I would have expected from an evil supermarket.”

“We may be… morally challenged,” I said, shrugging, “but we’re not heartless.” I looked around his tiny, shabby apartment. “Unlike some of your lot. I thought you were on a team. Why are you living here?”

He ducked his head. “I couldn’t live at the base,” he said, his tail drooping. “My… I made people uncomfortable. And the stipend isn’t much.”

“Isn’t much? With the merchandising deals they have?” Ms Fedorova sounded shocked, and the accent had dropped back a lot. “I know for a fact that if the accountants ever got hold of their books they’d owe more in back taxes than… well, than Evil-Mart would if our illegal product arm ever got discovered. And we pay our taxes on the legitimate stuff scrupulously.”

Dinoid blinked rapidly, though I couldn’t tell whether he was more surprised by her suddenly dropping her act or the idea that Evil-Mart pays taxes. “You do?”

“Of course. Not under that name, of course, there’s a shell company.” She sniffed. “All villains do. Al Capone, you know. We’re not getting caught that way again.”

Knuckles and I both nodded when he looked at us, and he shook his head. “Huh. Makes sense, I guess.”

“It does.” I looked around again. The place really was crappy. “I know it’s a personal question, Mr… West, but under the circumstances I’d like to know… how much is that stipend?”

He looked down at the floor for a while, then cleared his throat. “Uh. $1100 a month.”

We all stared at him. Ms Fedorova’s mouth fell open. Knuckles looked shocked, and I was horrified. “$1100 a month?!” I asked, my voice coming out louder than I’d intended. “For risking your life on a superhero team?! I have teenaged cashiers working part-time who make more than that!”

He looked almost as startled as we did. “For working a cash register?!”

“Evil-Mart pays pretty good.” Knuckles shrugged. “But that stipend is disgusting.”

“You are being exploited,” Ms Fedorova said, sounding really aghast. “That is terrible. Why, baseline henchman pay is twice that, and there are danger bonuses and…” Her voice dropped suddenly. “You don’t have a union, do you?”

“A union? Of course we don’t have a…” He trailed off. “You mean you do?”

“Of course we do. An extremely well-armed one.” Ms Fedorova folded her arms. “Henchmen And Allied Industries has represented us for generations. The last time a supervillain executed a union henchman for failure, he was boiled in oil… literally. On camera. Oh, of course some of the less reputable villains just pick up small-time trash from the streets, untrained rabble from the gangs and so on, so they can treat them as disposable, but we union members are skilled workers, with rights and protections. I bet you don’t even get overtime.”

“Of course not. Crime happens when it happens, and we have to…” He trailed off. “You guys get overtime?”

“We’re getting double time and a half for this conversation. And an extra day off.”

His eyes widened again. “Really? Wow, that’s… even when I was working a regular job, before this, I didn’t get pay like that.” He looked down at his hands and bared his teeth in what looked like an unhappy expression. “And now I can’t work anything but this kind of job. People don’t like having a scary dinosaur in their restaurant.”

There was a long pause.

“You can cook?” Ms Fedorova asked carefully.

“Yeah. I worked in my parents’ restaurant before… this.” He gestured at himself. “They were killed when we were attacked, and I was… changed.”

We all looked at each other. “After you’ve returned Superdyne’s remains to whoever you consider appropriate,” I said, grabbing a notepad and scribbling down my number, “I’d like you to give me a call. Evil-Mart is always hiring in the bakery and deli, and I mean always. Most bad guys aren’t great cooks. We don’t know why, it just seems to be one of those things.”

“You want me to join the bad guys?”

“I want you to work in a bakery. Villains and henchmen need to eat, and so do their families. Nobody’s going to ask you to rip superheroes in half, just maybe make a sandwich that won’t give anyone food poisoning.”

“That’s a regular concern?”

“Six months ago the three of us ran Evil-Mart’s physical store completely unassisted for most of a day because the only people who weren’t down with food poisoning were the ones who’d had the vegetarian and kosher meals.” I shuddered at the recollection. “Trust me. Someone who can cater staff functions without a major disaster would never have to live in an apartment like this working for us.”

“And we get full benefits, including dental.” Knuckles was shaking his head. “I bet you don’t even get hospital.”

“What hospital would take me? I always figured I’d go to the zoo and talk to the vet if – “

Ms Fedorova actually put her arms around him. “You,” she told him firmly, “are going to resign your terrible exploitative job, and then I will personally sponsor you to the union immediately. I have a spare room. You will like it. Humidity and temperature can be set just how you like, and Mamma Yelena will take you to real doctor expert in health of hybrids.”

“Those exist?” he asked, sounding a bit overwhelmed.

“Yeah, the Genetic Reign has like three of them,” I said sympathetically. “Listen, you can take some time to think it over, but you don’t have to put up with this kind of exploitation just because you don’t look human. Nearly a third of Evil-Mart’s staff can’t pass, and they’re treated just like everyone else.”

Superdyne’s dramatic demise got a lot of news coverage. Apparently it came as a real shock to the ‘good guys’ that there were some monsters even the superest villains wouldn’t embrace.

Dinoid no longer exists. Ismail Jameel works at Evil-Mart, and has expanded our fresh food lines a lot already. He’s a nice guy, and after Ms Fedorova told everyone how disgustingly he’d been exploited by those so-called ‘heroes’, he was welcomed with open arms. Literally, in at least one case – he’s dating someone from the warehouse, I’ve heard, though I don’t know who. He says we should rename the store, because we suck at being evil.

But evil is a really relative term. It can mean the blackest depravity, or a moment of viciousness, or even just ‘people on the other side’. Evil-Mart is called that because everyone, at least everyone on our side, is welcome. Plus, we all think it’s funny that the least-evil megacorporation is called ‘Evil-Mart’. What can we say? Bad guys have a sense of humour too.

Have an evil day!

[buckysdolls]

She’s a Freak Part 3 *Eddie Munson*

Warnings: mentions of swearing, mature content, drugs, violence etc...

A/N: Thank you for all the hearts on my work, Eddie is like my perfect man so to write for him is lovely! Joe Quinn too is a little sweetie <3

Part 3

After dropping Dustin off home you decided to take a walk over to the Family Video store, you knew Robin was working a late shift. Though a year older, Robin was a good friend, she'd been your friend for as long as you could remember and she was someone you could rely on if you were ever in trouble. The doorbell rang as you entered the store. Robin was hunched over the counter, her head in her hands looking miserable and bored. Steve was behind her, pressing buttons, presumably rewinding tapes. Robin leaped up when you jumped on the counter in front of her and huffed.

“Big sigh. What's wrong?” She stood behind you and slung her arms over your shoulders to embrace you, her head resting in your neck.

“I think Seth and I broke up”

“Good riddance” Robin was brutally honest.

“Robin!” you lightly tapped her hands that were loosely clasped around your neck.

“What? He’s a turd” Robin roared and pulled away to stand in front of you.

“I came here for sympathy not to feel stupid”

“Okay as your best friend, he was a bum. But also as your best friend, I’m sorry that happened. Are you okay?”

“Get out whilst you can” Steve muttered in the background. 

“What do you mean?” Your attention drifted to Steve. Steve had become part of the package deal of being friends with Robin, it helped that he was friendly too.

“Being popular isn’t everything. Look at me, once king of Hawkins… now friends with the nerds of Hawkins”

“Shhhh” Robin hushed, shooting him an evil glare.

“It’s not about being popular, that doesn't bother me. I just don’t want the drama”

“Comes with the territory of being popular I’m afraid” Steve replied shrugging his shoulders.

“Well… I don’t want it” You whined like a child who was throwing a hissy fit. 

As time passed you stayed till close, helping Robin and Steve finish up their load of work and close shop. Robin and Steve did their utmost to help you forget about your encounter with Seth and it worked for a while. You were back to laughing and smiling like usual. Until you were left alone again. You laid in your bed and aggressively turned over, it was hard for you to try and sleep that night. Leaning over and pulling on the string that switched on your side lamp you grabbed your watch to check the time… 10pm. You dramatically groaned and fell back into the bed spreading out like a starfish. For some reason Eddie popped into your head, you had replayed your argument with Seth in your head over and over again and you remembered more each time. You remembered how Eddie had clasped your hand amongst the chaos and you recalled in that split second feeling safe and calm beside him, like you had done the previous day in his van. Eddie’s jacket was clung to your desk chair and caught your eye. The sudden thoughts of Eddie made your heart feel like it was beating rapidly and fluttering like butterflies. You felt all the egg shells that you were used to walking on had disappeared around Eddie. It felt like you were walking in the clouds, those fluffy marshmallow-like clouds that could melt in between your toes. You could laugh. You could finally breathe fresh air and in a moment of madness you shot out of bed hurried to your drawer, shoving on a pair of bright patterned sweatpants, a white crop top and threw on Eddie’s jacket. You figured you could use returning his jacket as an excuse to see him. You creeped downstairs to avoid disturbing your mum or Dustin, took your keys off the hook and headed to your car. 

Pulling up to Eddie’s trailer, you were careful to drive slowly to avoid the potholes and bumps in the road. You stepped out of your car and coyly walked up to the trailer door, your hand in a fist ready to knock until the sound of a truck screeching and headlights illuminating you, causing you to squint your eyes and shield them with your hand. You watched as Eddie hopped out of his truck and the usually cheerful cheerleader Chrissy who was looking apprehensive appeared next to him. Your breath hitched as you felt like your thumping heart had risen into your throat, you didn’t know Eddie was seeing someone, let alone Chirssy who was known to be in a committed relationship with Jason. It was at this moment you were aware of your own feelings for Eddie, this whole time you were with Seth it should have been Eddie, the true person who made you smile, the person who you looked forward to seeing in the corridors just so you could make him smile by waving at him. The jealousy of seeing Chrissy next to him bruised you .You looked down at your feet to hide your embarrassment of standing at Eddie’s door. Eddie looked towards his trailer, his grin towards Chrissy dying as he saw you standing alone and humiliated, totally unaware of what you could only describe as the epiphany you’d just had.. 

“Sorry I wouldn’t have come if I knew about this” You hurtled down his steps gesturing to him and Chrissy. 

“Hey wait!” Eddie grabbed your arm as you rushed passed.You let him hold you back looking at his grip then up at him, he brought you into him both hands now resting on your arms, he was concerned for you and needed to make sure you were okay. 

“One second” Eddie turned to Chirssy gesturing with his finger. Eddie’s focus was back on you as his touch roamed up to your cheeks cupping them, looking at you as if he was checking you over. The whole encounter had you shaking, like explosive fireworks were being set off, it made you feel hot. He tenderly moved a curl that was draped over your face, he took that moment to take in how stunning you were, the freckles that were planted across your nose he wanted to individually count if that meant he could stare at you forever. 

“I just wanted to give this back” You began to take off his jacket as you stepped away from him, his arms dropping to his sides.

“If I’d have known, I wouldn’t have come over unannounced.” You placed the jacket into Eddie’s chest letting him clutch it before turning away and heading to your car.

“Y/N”

You turned back to face them, a fake smile which you had given often enough to make it genuine curved your lips. Your bruised heart felt like it was being pressed on knowing Eddie was finding intimacy and company elsewhere. Your heart didn’t hurt when you fought with Seth but it hurt like hell right now and you couldn’t hate him or berate him, you were only just friends after all. 

“Don’t worry I won't mention anything about this” You said sincerely. Eddie watched as you drove away from him. 

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” Eddie silently cursed, whipping his jacket to the floor causing dirt particles to flounce upwards from the ground.

“I can come back another time” Chrissy said sweetly feeling bad the Y/N had thought her and Eddie were engaging in some sort of romantic exchange. Eddie shook his head and invited Chirssy into his home to give her the drugs she wanted.

[vendettaparker]

Peanut Butter and Extra Jelly [T.H]

Summary: Tom’s long time crush on you becomes painful when you and Harrison are cast as love interests in a movie. 

Paring: Tom Holland x Actress!Reader 

Word Count: 5.8k

Warning: Suggestive themes, fake smut (very light), jealousy, probably some typos, swearing 

a/n: i have no idea how filming a movie, or auditioning for one actually goes so don’t crucify me for this. i’m pretty happy with how this turned out, especially considering that this is the most i’ve ever written for a fic. also, Burt Kreisher is one of my fav comedians in real life, he has 3 shows on neflix and a mini series.  

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     Tom was not a jealous person. At least, that's what he always told himself. He prided himself in thinking he was a very level headed individual who didn’t let his emotions get the best of him. That worked best for his job anyways; always being able to control his emotions and not get in his own head. That simple, pacifistic mindset seemed to change when it came to you. 

      You were one of the many actors Tom got the pleasure to help hone their technique and work closely with. You were new to the lifestyle of Hollywood and the only roles you had before were in small indie films that never garnered too much attention. The first major role that you landed, which also happened to help kickstart your career, was in the MCU. You played the secondary villain in the third Spider-man movie. 

     Meeting the cast was a dream come true; they were all extremely helpful and they provided tons of tips and tricks in navigating the hectic schedule required for such a huge production. By the time filming wrapped up, you were considered part of their little Spider-man family. 

     Tom was easily the most helpful. Whenever he saw you struggling with anything, he offered to help. You two spent hours upon hours together in his trailer, ordering take out and practicing lines. Some nights you two planned to work through your script, but inevitably ended up falling asleep binge watching The Office, and laughing about crazy shit that happened on set that day. 

     When the movie wrapped up and you went home for a month before the press tour, you were completely unsure and nervous about what direction your career was going in. You auditioned for a few new movies, but had yet to hear from any of the directors about casting decisions. You kept in touch Tom during the month you were apart and expressed your concerns. 

     “I don’t know, Tom. I’m just so sick of waiting around and hoping that some director out there throws me a bone, ya know’?” You said on facetime, while making cookies. 

     “Yeah, I totally understand that, (Y/N/N). I had that issue a couple years ago before the Marvel movies. Trust me, you did outstanding in that role and once it gets noticed I’m positive you’ll have directors calling you, begging for you to audition.” Tom smiled warmly into the camera as he walked around his apartment in London. 

      “Yeah, easy for you to say, movie-star.” You giggled, turning your face away from the camera in hopes that Tom wouldn’t notice the blush his compliments painted onto your cheeks 

     “I’m serious! You were outstanding! Like in that one scene where you—” 

      “Tom! Tessa chewed a hole in my trousers again!” A voice came from outside of the frame, “Mate, you gotta get her to stop doing that somehow.” 

     Tom sighed, and waved his hand dismissively at the figure, “Okay, sure. I’m busy right now.” Tom looked back to the camera, “anyways, as I was saying, don’t stress about not having a new project yet, (Y/N)—” 

     “(Y/N)?” The other voice whisper-yelled. “Let me say hi!”, suddenly the phone was yanked out of Tom's hands and the video shook around a bit as Tom wrestled to get it back. Finally, the camera stilled and Harrison was on the other end smiling. “Hi, (Y/N)!” 

     “Oh, hi Harrison!” You smiled back, laughing. You'd met Harrison a few times when he visited Tom on set. “How are you?” 

     The camera started moving around more as the background behind Harrsion whizzed past. You assumed Tom must’ve been chasing him to get the phone back. 

     “I’m good! I just auditioned for a new movie. You should audition too! The main female lead’s description looks just like you.” He exclaimed, running past the kitchen to his room. 

     “Oi! Give me my phone back you div!” You heard Tom yelling in the background, no doubt in hot pursuit of Harrison. 

     “I don’t know, I'm not sure I’m prepared for a lead role.” You sighed, “What’s the movie called? I’ll look into it.” 

     “It’s called ‘Collateral Damage’, it’s a spy movie.” Harrison said, shutting the door to his room, while Tom pounded on it from the other side. “Yeah, it’d be really fun working with you. Tom constantly talks about how much fun you are on set.” Harrison wheezed out, trying to catch his breath. 

      “Aw, that’s sweet of him.” You laughed. “Well I’ve got to go. Just tell Tom he can call me tomorrow or something.” You waved at the camera. “Bye!”

     “Yup, bye.” Harrison said right before the video cut out. 

      Harrison finally opened the door to a seething Tom. Tom grabbed the phone back from Harrison and noticed that the call had ended. 

     “Dude! Why would you do that?” Tom whined. 

     Harrison just patted Tom’s back, “Sorry, mate. She said she had to go, though. I was about to give the phone back.” 

     Tom huffed and sulked for a moment. “Whatever, I’ll just call her later, I guess.” 

     Harrison nodded and smirked at how whipped Tom was. “You should just ask her out if you’re so desperate for her attention.” Harrison teased. 

     “Shut up. I’m not desperate for her attention, I just like her voice and her personality, and the way she talks, and her funny sayings, and how her hair looks when she just woke up.” 

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     It was only a few days later when you received an email from the director of the movie Harrison told you about, asking for you to audition. You were ecstatic, Harrison must’ve already sent in some things about you since the director seemed adamant that you were of high interest for the role. 

     You called Tom immediately to share the good news. 

     He picked up after the third ring, “Hello, darling! How are you?” he beamed when he answered your call. He usually was the one to call you so he felt a sense of pride knowing that you were calling him for once. 

     “Tom! The director of the movie Harrison auditioned for just emailed me asking for me to audition!” You squealed excitedly. 

     “Really? That’s wonderful, love! Harrison just got the part of the lead too, so you’d be filming with him if you got it.” 

     “That’s so exciting, I’m flying to London for the audition in two days. Are you still there?” You pulled the phone away from your ear and switched it to speaker. “I’m booking the flight right now.” 

     “Yeah, I’ll be in London for another week and a half. Then we have the press tour starting in Japan.” Tom said, also switching to speaker phone to look at his calendar. “You can stay with Harrison and I while you’re here. Since we have to go to Japan together anyways.” Tom offered nervously. He really wanted you to stay in his flat with him. It’d be all cute and domestic, and maybe, just maybe, he’d spend enough time with you to not feel nervous about asking you on a date. If he was lucky, that is, but awaiting your reply he was a jittery ball of nerves. 

     “Yeah, that sounds wonderful. I won't be intruding though, right?” You said, smiling from ear to ear. Thank god you weren’t on facetime and Tom couldn’t see the stupid smile adoring your features. 

     “No, of course not. Harry will be so excited to see you. And Tessa too, she really misses you.” Tom shuffled around with his phone, shooting a quick text to Harrison letting him know you were coming to stay for a week. 

     “Ok, thanks so much, this is really thoughtful of you. I absolutely can’t wait to see you!” You gushed, finalizing your purchase of a one-way ticket to London. “K, the flight is at 2:30 pm here, it’s about 9 and a half hours, but you’re also ahead of me, so I’ll be in around..5?”

     “Yeah, that sounds right to me,” Tom chuckled, “I’ll come pick you up. I’ll wear my incognito disguise.” 

     “If you mean that stupid t-shirt you got that says ‘I’M NOT A CELEBRITY’, then maybe I’ll ask Harrison to come pick me up…”

     “That’s cold (Y/L/N).” 

     You giggled softly, “I’m sorry, Tommy. If it makes you feel better, that shirt isn’t as bad as that stupid blue beanie that you never wear correctly.”

     “How the fuck would that make me feel better? You’re killing me, (Y/N/N).” 

     You laughed at his over dramatic reaction, “Sorry that you’re a sensitive babe. I gotta go now, see you soon!” You hung up before Tom could respond with a sassy quip. Then immediately after you received a text:

Tommy: The second you get here I’m bout to 👊 

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     Tom called Harrison up after you got off the phone, he needed to make sure his best friend wouldn’t say or do anything to embarrass him in front of you. 

     “Tom, don’t you think this is a bit obsessive? I mean, she’s only staying with us for a week and you already know her so well from spending all that time filming with her.” Harrison sighed, sick of listening to Tom ramble about every possible embarrassing situation he could be put in, in the coming week. 

     “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. It's no big deal. But don’t mention that time I accidentally shit my pants at the club, or that time I got hit in the head with a golf ball ‘cus I got distracted by a flock of geese, or that time a got chased by a flock of geese, or—”

     “Geez, mate. At this point we might as well not even talk to her.” Harrison chuckled, thinking of all the stories he could bring up about Tom around the dinner table with you. Tom really was just a walking ball of embarrassing moments. 

     “Stoppp ittt,” Tom whined, “when we were on set it was usually just the cast and Harry around, but you? You could do some real fucking damage to my love life, Haz.” 

     “What love life?” Harrison barked out, laughing. 

     Tom then hung up and began praying to whatever god was out there that this week could go by without a hitch, and then you and him would be on your way, together, to Japan. 

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     The whole week spent in London actually went really well, especially the audition. Tom and Harrison both accompanied you for moral support, well Harrison actually had to be there to be your scene partner, but it was still nice knowing he supported you. 

     The director shook your hand and you went through the normal formalities before beginning your scene with Harrison. It was a quick scene with a monologue in it. The main premise of the movie was all about choosing love over work, especially in dangerous, life-threatening scenarios. The scene you used to audition with Harrison was the scene where the main character, Lincoln, and his lover interest, Mallory, were arguing, trying to push each other away to keep each other safe. The scene had a lot of raw emotion that you were able to tap into, and the directors gave your performance a standing ovation once the scene concluded. 

     They said that they’d get back to you within the next few days, but they also mentioned how the chemistry between you and Harrison was off the charts, leaving you hopeful. Tom and Harrison both gave you hugs and pats on the back. Tom had watched the whole scene unfold and he was in complete and utter awe of your talent. Part of him was annoyed that he didn’t audition for the movie and a chance as your love interest. But Harrison deserved this big break and so did you, so he was hopeful of the outcome being something that benefitted both of his best friends. 

    After the audition the rest of the week went by nearly perfectly. The real kicker was when Tom’s family invited you and Harrison to join them for dinner. Tom had not anticipated his mom asking you to come to family dinner, so he wasn’t able to stop the embarrassing anecdotes his mom told on his behalf. 

     “Tom had the cutest little tush,” Nikki exclaimed, placing the old homemade scrapbook in your lap and flipping through a couple of pages. “See look,” she happily pointed to a picture of Tom as a toddler in a bath, surrounded by bubbles, his little bum poking through them. 

     Tom sat uncomfortably on the sofa next to you, cringing at the now 21 year old photo of him. He expected you to also cringe along, or worse case scenario, get up and make a flimsy excuse to leave his crazy family, but you just chuckled along with Nikki and continued making your way through the scrapbook, making little comments here and there. 

     “Oh, and this one,” Nikki said, pointing to a photo of Tom crying and Sam holding up a superhero action figure triumphantly, “that was Tom’s favorite toy, but when Sam saw how much Tom liked it, he made an effort to always be playing with it when Tom came into the room and he wouldn’t share.”

     You giggled at the little whiny face Tom made in the picture, and turned to him, replicating it on your face, making fun of him. Tom laughed along and playfully shoved you. He adored how well you seemed to fit in with his family and his feelings for you only multiplied. 

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     The week in London was one of the best in your life. You didn’t realize how much you missed Tom until you got to the airport and he was there waiting for you, unfortunately in his stupid blue beanie, and no, it wasn’t on right, his big ears poked out of it horrendously. 

     The last day you had in London before you and Tom went to Japan, you finally received a call about the audition. The director called you to congratulate you on getting the part, and he sent you numerous emails about scheduling, where to be, and when. Harrison was elated to have a familiar face playing his love interest on screen, and Tom was over the moon excited for you, this on top of the Spider-man movie coming out, you were certainly becoming a force to be reckoned with. 

     You spent the night celebrating at a club, Harry and Sam also showed up to party with you. The night was still young and the club was already packed and in full swing. Tom ordered two shots for each of you to start off the night before he was whisked away by a few fans to sign autographs. When he didn’t return you took it upon yourself to have his shots, giving you an extra edge to help spice up your night. 

     Harrison found Tom in the corner of the club talking to some fans. But throughout his whole time taking pictures with them, he couldn’t help but glance at you every once and a while. You looked so carefree and beautiful, dancing around in your shiny silver top and leather leggings. 

      “Tom.” Harrison interrupted Tom’s gawking and directed his attention to the small group of fans Tom was with. 

     Tom nodded and finished up his pictures and autographs before wishing them all a good and safe night. Once he reached you, you engulfed him in a bone crushing hug. 

     “Thank you for such a great time in London, Tommy.” you slurred, already feeling the impact of the four shots you took. “I had the best time of my whole life.” You pecked his cheek and pulled him close to dance with you. 

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     The following month or so on the press tour was a once in a lifetime experience. You travelled to more cities than you even knew the name of and you had all of your friends by your side. More so, you had motivation to remain approachable and well liked by fans considering that you were moving up in the industry. Some interviews were mostly for Tom, Zendaya, and Jacob. Your role in the movie was big enough for you to be needed for some interviews, and most people were genuinely interested in getting to know you, but there were also a handful of press activities that you weren’t included in, which you didn’t mind. 

     When you didn’t have anything to do for an hour or so, you would text Harrison and send him funny memes. He was quickly becoming one of your closest friends; you had already created a surplus of inside jokes with him just over the phone. 

     Tom noticed how you were always laughing at your phone or rapid fire texting. Even when you were being interviewed, Tom could faintly hear the buzz of your text message notifications going off. 

     “Tom,” you snapped in front of his eyes, “did you need something?” 

     “Huh?” Tom blinked a few times, “Uh—no, sorry.” Tom’s cheeks flushed pink, embarrassed for having been caught staring at you. He couldn’t help it though, you were dressed so pretty that day. You had your hair done up in two bubble braids and you wore his pink sweatshirt over your yellow sundress. 

     “Okay then.” You smiled at him. You went back to your phone, reading what Harrison had just texted you. “What was the name of that comedian we watched the other night?” 

     “The one on Netflix?” 

     You hummed out a yes, tapping away at your phone. 

     “Burt Kreisher, why?” Tom asked, leaning over to your chair to try and catch a glimpse of who you were texting. When he saw the contact name “Hazzy”, he couldn't stop the little angry pit of jealousy that started in his stomach. Sure, you were here with him now, not with Harrison, but when you two were apart you also texted him nonstop, and the texts seemed to all be inside jokes, which was something you also shared with him that he held near and dear.

     “I made a joke referencing him to Harrison and he didn’t get it. Fucking nerd.” You chuckled, texting Harrison a link to the skit you were referring to. 

     Tom chuckled along, but he couldn’t help but frown slightly at how bright your smile was when Harrison replied. 

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     The press tour and premiere of the movie seemed to go by lighting fast. You’d never been to a premiere for a production this big, and your nerves for the red carpet were starting to get to you. 

     You and Zendaya were stuffed into a hotel room with both of your respective teams, both trying to rapidly get both of you ready for the event. 

     “So when do you start filming for your next project?” Zendaya asked, she sat in front of a broadway-equse mirror, bright bulbs of light giving a luminescent glow to her already near flawless complexion. She hadn’t even finished her makeup yet and she was so pretty.  

     “In a month, I have to go back to London next week.” You said, sifting through the opinions you brought for dresses. You brought three options, just in case you changed your mind after seeing yourself in the dress. “Harrison and I are going to go over the scripts together and we were also told to go out in public a few times; for press and whatnot.” 

      “That’s exciting!” Zendaya mused, she glanced at the clock and gave her hairdresser some instructions about how much time she had to do hair. “It’s a good thing you guys are already friends. I remember when I filmed ‘The Greatest Showman’ I didn’t know many of the actors personally, so we had to go out together and do press all while being almost strangers. It was a bit nerve wracking.” Zendaya smiled at you fondly, she was like an older sister to you during this whole movie-making process, she constantly had your back. 

     “Yeah, I mean I’ll probably be in a situation like that at some point, but for my first lead role it’s nice to be working opposite a friend.” You smiled back, finally deciding on the red, sequined dress. 

     You both sat and worked through the makeup process in comfortable silence. 

     “So you and Tom…” Zendaya broke the silence and looked at you with a smirk on her face. 

     “What?” You looked at her with a dumbfounded look, before nervously laughing, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

     “Don’t play dumb, (Y/N/N).” She poked your arm and laughed, “He’s literally obsessed with you.” 

     You laughed at how ridiculous that sounded. A movie star, and very famous movie star at that, obsessed with you? You? Impossible. 

     “Yeah no, sorry but you got the wrong girl, babe.” You sighed, pulling out your phone to snap and selfie with her for your instagram story. You quickly snapped a pic of the two of you, her kissing your cheek, leaving a small, faint lipstick mark. “I mean it’d be nice,” you back tracked, “but I’m sure that’s just my wishful thinking.” 

     “What wishful thinking? I thought you were a pessimist?” Zendaya chuckled, taking her own photo with you to post later. 

     “I am, but I can’t help but indulge a bit.” 

                      ➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

     Before you knew it, you were back in London, staying in a rented out flat for the next three to four months. Harrison was kind enough to come over to help you set up a work space, but he also offered you to spend most of your time at his place. Since Tom was in New York, doing interviews about the new Spider-man movie and having meetings with the Marvel Cinematic Universe team to try and gauge his future in the MCU, he wouldn’t be around for almost a month, so Harrison offered up Tom’s office when you needed to go over a scene by yourself and wanted a place that was already set up. 

     The days of filming seemed to go by in the blink of an eye. Most of your scenes were with Harrison, and he was the perfect scene partner. He rarely messed up, but if he did then he was quick to use it as an opportunity to improvise. His skills weren’t as well honed in like Tom’s, but it was obvious that their style ranged from a similar source. 

     The main thing about this movie that you were excited, but extremely nervous for, were the two sex scenes. The first one is at the beginning, where the two leads give in to each other for a night, then there's some implied stuff in between, and the last one is when the two leads part ways for the final time at the end of the movie. The first one had to be rough, fast, and needy, whereas the second one was direct to be more slow, thought out, and sensual. 

      Both were extremely stress-inducing to film. Harrison had also never done any scenes like this before, so he was on the same boat as you. Thankfully you had an amazing director and stunt coordinator to work with and with the help of other crew members, the scenes were mapped out so that it wasn’t too much improv or guessing on your part. 

                                 ➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

     The first intimate scene you shot actually happened to be the one at the end of the movie. That scene was more tame and dealt with more emotional subtexts than physical. Since you filmed that one first, you went into filming the next one with more confidence. It only took a few days to get the first scene down to perfection, so with this newfound confidence, it shouldn’t take too long to get the next one done. 

     On the days you shot intimate scenes, you only needed to wear the costume you wore before the scene and then you changed into a robe with nude underwear underneath. The bits with the outfit on before were already shot, so the director called a 30 minute break until you could begin shooting the actual sex part. 

     You were standing by the snack table, eyes scanning the table for any more muffins leftover from breakfast. The robe you wore made your skin prickle whenever a draft came onto set. 

     Just as you had found the muffin you were looking for, a pair of warm hands covered your eyes. 

     “Guess who!” An all too familiar warm, British accentuated, voice called. 

      You turned around in his arms, effectively nudging his hands from your face, and soon you were met with the warmest hazel eyes. Eyes that you missed so much this past month. 

      “Tommy!” You squealed and thrusted yourself into him in a hug. He immediately reciprocated it and wrapped your body in warmth. “What’re you doing here?” You asked once you let go of him. 

      “Harrison gave me the location so I could come watch you film. I just got home, like, two days ago.” Tom eyed you up and down, not realizing what little you had on. “Um—are you wearing anything under that?” He pointed up and down your figure. 

     “Nope, today and tomorrow we’re scheduled to film the sex scene.” You said casually, doing a silly twirl. Tom gulped. 

     “A s-sex scene?” He choked, “I didn’t know you guys had one.” 

     “Yup,” you smirked, “two actually, this is my first one ever, Haz’s too, I think. Well actually, we filmed the sex scene at the end of the movie last week.” 

     “Yeah… t-that’s cool.” Tom smiled weakly. 

     Right as you were about to continue your conversation with Tom, an arm swung over your shoulder and pulled you close. Harrison smiled at the both of you. He wore a similar robe to yours, except he left the front open. His plaid boxers on full display. 

     “Don’t listen to her, Tom. She’s a natural.” Harrison pinched your cheeks. Tom clenched his jaw at the comment. He knew Harrison hadn't meant to imply anything with it, but he couldn't help but hear the hidden meaning behind the otherwise innocent compliment. 

      You giggled and pushed his hand away, “Only ‘cus my scene partner is so darn cute.” You retaliated, poking and tickling his pecs. 

      This kind of goofy banter was normal between you and Harrison, but Tom hadn’t seen either of you in so long. He also had never seen you two interact so fluently with each other. He watched the interaction with a tight-lipped smile, nodding along and shrugging every once in a while to seem like he was paying attention. In reality though, he couldn’t pry his thoughts away from how close you were to Harrison. 

     “Ok everyone! Places! Let’s wrap this scene up and put it to rest today!” Your director called. You and Harrison smiled and waved goodbye to Tom. Harrison pointed to a chair in the room that had a nice view of the set where Tom could watch. Tom nodded and walked over to the chair, enthusiasm for watching you work completely dissipating. 

     The scene started off rough right off the bat. The second the director said ‘Action!’ you and Harrison were practically pouncing on each other. Harrison had you pressed up against the wall and you were both breathing heavily. He was leaving sloppy, wet kisses down your neck, then across your collar bones. Your moans, which Tom always imagined to sound like music to his ears, sounded too real for his liking. But no matter how much he tried to look away, his eyes were glued to the two bodies moving fluidly with one another. 

     “Cut! Cut!” The director yelled, effectively ending the scene. You and Harrison pulled apart and he gave you a peck on the cheek, as in saying ‘good job’. “That was good, but Harrison,” The blonde nodded, awaiting further instruction. “You gotta be a little rougher, hm?” 

     Harrison nodded along with the critique. “(Y/N)?” the director moved his attention to you, “would it be okay if Harrison marked you up? Just a few hickeys to really sell the illusion. We can do without, though, if you feel uncomfortable.” 

     Tom overheard the interaction and internally hoped that you were too uncomfortable for that, but deep down he knew you would do it. You were never the type to stray away from a challenge. 

     “Yeah, that’s fine.” You nodded, chest still heaving from the scene. You looked at Harrison. “Is that okay with you?” 

     Harrison nodded, a shy smile tugging at his lips. Yeah, you guys have been working at this scene for days now, but he’d never been rough enough to leave marks. He’d be lying if he said the thought didn’t invigorate him. 

     So the scene started from the top, you pressed up against the wall, all your weight shoved between the flimsy wall of the set and Harrison’s strong arms. Harrison did exactly as the director required, leaving noticeable dark spots across the top of your chest. Unlike your previous moans, which had just been for show, this new roughness in his actions tore real moans from your lips. 

     Tom sat uncomfortably in his chair, wishing he picked a different day to visit you on set. He shifted around, watching twin moans pull from both you and Harrison’s throat. He watched as you nipped at Harrison's ear as he faux thrusted into you. The jealousy that had pitted itself in his stomach soon turned to self-loathing. You looked really into the scene, he couldn’t help but feel like he was intruding. He knew you were a great actress, but he couldn’t believe that this was all acting. In his eyes, he believed that some part of you must wish that this was real. And part of you did like this scenario, but you wouldn’t have picked Harrison to be opposite you in this little fantasy. 

     Your moans and Harrisons both grew louder, leading up to the climax as scripted. Tom, not wanting to watch anymore exited the set quickly before he could watch the scene end. 

     You and Harrison finished up, gaining applause and praise afterwards from the director and crew members on set. 

     “Where’s Tom?” You asked, scrambling back into your robe and smoothing out your now roughed up hair. 

     Harrison, now noticing the absence of his best friend, began to feel a bit guilty. He knew Tom had a thing for you, maybe he should’ve told Tom not to visit set today. 

     “Um, (Y/N)?” He mumbled, pulling you aside slightly. 

     “Yeah?” You still looked around for Tom a bit, heart sinking when you realized that he must've left without saying goodbye. 

      “I shouldn’t be the one telling you this,” Harrison began, drawing your full attention, “but Tom really likes you. He always downplayed it, so I didn’t realize how much, but I think watching this scene might’ve upset him a bit.” Harrison looked towards the exit, no doubtedly where Tom left through, out into the parking lot. 

     “Oh—oh!” You gasped, feeling terribly for having put Tom in such an awkward position. “I didn’t know he felt the same.” You whispered, smiling softly to yourself. Guess Z was right after all. You pulled away from Harrison, “I’ll go talk to him.” 

                                 ➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

      Tom didn’t go far. He still wanted to be there to support you; he didn’t want to come off as a jealous prick, but he couldn’t keep watching that intimacy between you and his best friend. He sat on the curb outside of the building the set was built in. A few people passed him going to their designated buildings on the lot, but he didn’t pay any mind to them, too lost in his thoughts. He needed to tell you sooner rather than later how he felt. No time to be a pussy anymore. 

     “Tom?” You walked up next to his sitting figure, still only in a robe, tightly wrapped around you. He looked up to acknowledge you, mumbling a soft ‘Hey.’ before looking back down, trying to collect his thoughts and courage. It’s now or never. 

     You sat beside him and rested your head on his shoulder. “Harrison told me something interesting in there,” You paused for a moment before continuing, “about you.” 

     Tom’s head shot up, and he looked at you with frantic eyes, only imagining the worse. There were too many things Harrison could’ve told you about Tom to sully your image of him. 

     “Whatever it was, he's a lying prick!” Tom rushed out. 

     You giggled, lifting your head up to look him in the eyes, his dark hazel eyes boring into yours. 

     “That’s a shame then,” You shrugged, “considering I like you too.” 

     Tom breathed out a sigh of relief, before looking back at you, doing a double take. 

    “Wait, what?” 

     “Mhm, yeah.” You said casually, standing up. “But since Harrison’s a liar then I suppose he was wrong.” You teased. 

     “No!” Tom grabbed your wrist and pulled you back next to him, but his aim was a bit off and you ended up in his lap. “He lies about a lot, but not about this.”

     You smiled at him, “I should hope not, considering I’m crazy about you.” 

     Tom couldn’t help the smile that beamed across his face, but then he noticed the marks left on you by Harrison. Remembering why he was insecure in the first place, he looked away. 

     “What about Harrison?” He asked. You looked at him utterly confused. Tom caught on and explained further. “You looked like you were really into that scene with him.” 

     You giggled and pinched Tom’s cheek, turning it red. “I’m an actress, you idiot.”

     Tom scoffed, “I know that. It’s just— I didn’t realize you could fake that kind of love.” 

     You looked at Tom’s downcast face. You leaned in and kissed his neck, just under his jaw. You nipped and sucked softly, leaving a nice, dark pink blotch that would go away in a few days under his jaw and he whimpered softly.

     “I’d never fake that kind of love with you.” You grabbed his face, holding it gently in your hands. “I’d never have to.” You whispered, pulling him in for a kiss, soft and sweet. 

     Tom pulled you closer, resting a hand on the small of your back, kissing back fervently. 

     The short make-out session being cut short by the door to the set bursting opened. Harrison rushing out, now dressed in slacks and a white button up for the next scene you needed to shoot that day. 

     “(Y/N)! Hair and makeup need you.” You lugged yourself off of Tom’s lap, promising to talk to him after you finished for the day. You went back inside, jokingly blowing a kiss to Harrison on your way. 

     Harrison stayed outside and sat next to Tom. 

     “Did she confess first?” He asked after a moment of silence. 

     “Yup.” Tom smiled happily, licking his lips, tasting the strawberry chapstick he saw you put on earlier. 

     “You owe me 10 pounds then, you wimp.” 

     “Oh, fuck off.” Tom groaned, promptly pulling ten pounds out of his wallet and handing it to Haz. 

[katyasrussianaccent]

you’re so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You’re a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Authors note: Part 3 whoop! I havent written fic in 3 years so Im hoping this is okay. Its about 4000 words, super long, sorry. I also dont play Among Us, but hopefully its not too obvious. Lemme know what you think!

You're nervous, though you aren’t quite sure why. The kind of nervousness that spreads to your feet, causing you to tap your toes against the side of your sofa.

Call you in 15. 

You look at the message again, staring at it till the screen goes blurry. Rubbing your eyes you exhale into the emptiness of your apartment; a feeble attempt at calming yourself down.

Logically it’s stupid to be nervous over a phone call. Logically you know that in the grand scheme of the universe, there are bigger things at hand. But you’re not a logical person, never have been. You’re all heart and emotion, both a blessing and a curse. There’s something intimate about a phone call, to have nothing but someone’s voice on the other end of the phone, talking to you and only you. It was a little scary; to think your purely online friendship with Corpse was going to be taken to a different level. You’re excited to think what that could mean.

“Fucking get it together,” you mutter to no-one as you exhale again, because there’s nothing else to do other than to wait and try to breath. There’s this frantic energy about you; like when you eat fizzy sweets, the flavour buzzing on your tongue. Your ancestors used to hunt wolves and here you were nervous over a single phone call.

The silence in your apartment’s too much now; too noisy. You grab your TV remote, clicking onto Spotify to find something. You’re scrolling so much, none of the artists feeling quite right for the moment before settling on Sufjan Stevens.

The dulcet tones fill the space, and for a brief second, you feel fine. You’re feeling relaxed and then your phone lights up.

Incoming Facetime Audio

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck” you say. Your face feels warm, your heart quickens in your chest. You could just ignore it, say you’re not feeling too good and that would be that, you wouldn’t have to do this. But it’s Corpse, you like Corpse and you’re kind of friends.

You swipe to accept the call, and press the button for speaker. 

“Hey,” you say, cringing at the meek tone your voice has taken on.

“Hey,” Corpse’s deep voice rumbles through your tiny speaker, distorting slightly and you press the volume button to turn it down a little.

There’s a beat of silence, a beat too long, and you already hate how awkward this is. You’re not great at social stuff, the concept of being a social butterfly is almost foreign to you. And it’s not because you dislike people, it’s just you hate this; the small talk, the awkwardness before you get comfortable and can hold an actual conversation.

You suddenly remember a tip from your customer service days. “How are you?” you ask, plastering on a grin so wide that it must look borderline demented. Thank god you’re single. 

“I’m okay thanks, how are you?” he asks.

You lounge back against the soft cushions of the sofa, lifting the phone up to your mouth as you do so. “I’m good, excited to be taught by the Among Us master.”

He snorts in disdain. “Hardly a master.” 

You chew your lip before you speak again, “I dunno, people on the internet think you’re pretty good.”

He snorts again, and you smile at the sound. It’s not something you’ve heard from him before, through your hours of watching his streams, you’ve become accustomed to his voice and the noises he makes. But this one seems to be new. And maybe it’s the weird, selfish part of you that likes to think he’s only ever made that sound for you. You shake the thought out of your head, because really? Getting happy over a snort is really such a ridiculous thing to do. 

“People on the internet say a lot of things.”

“True, but sometimes they speak the truth,” you reply, moving to get more comfortable; tucking your feet under your thighs. You wonder what he’s doing right now as he talks to you, is he sitting down? Or is he lying on his bed; his head propped up with pillows? There’s a brief flash of yearning, of wanting to be there in the same room as him, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared so you ignore it.

“Hm. We’ll agree to disagree.”

“Okay, you’re the boss Mr Husband.”

He chuckles softly, and again, you smile. You can feel yourself getting annoyed with yourself; you’re acting like a child with a crush; smiling at the phone. All you needed now was a notebook that had Mrs YN Husband written all over it.

“You know if you keep calling me that, we’re gonna have to get married,” he says, his voice a little lower than it was before. You blink and cock your head to the side, looking at an imaginary camera like you’re in The Office. Did you say that out loud? Is he...flirting with you? Sure, you’re flirty over Twitter, but it’s Twitter, Twitter isn’t real. There’s a fluttery feeling in your stomach at the mere prospect that he might actually be flirting with you.

“I’d be the best wife you could ever get,” you shoot back. There’s a brief second of silence before he answers, and you can hear shuffling on the other end. You want to ask what he’s doing, but you know it would break the conversation, and you’re curious to see where this goes.

“Oh really? And why’s that?” he asks, and you can picture the smirk in his voice. You have no idea what he looks like, no real care about it either, but you bet he’s got a beautiful smile. You bite your tongue before it tells him this, for once your brain actually works and stops you from making a fool out of yourself. It’s incredibly strange, how quickly he puts you at ease without a try, he’s just so naturally comforting. He’s not this flashy persona, he’s just a guy who likes to play video games and happens to be kinda good at them. And also has a voice that is literally like chocolate. Not just chocolate; dark chocolate. If dark chocolate could talk, it would sound like Corpse.

“Cos your girl can cook,” you say proudly, puffing out your chest a little. And that’s not a lie, you can cook. Okay, you’re not a Michelin starred chef, but you feel quite confident in the fact that Gordon Ramsey could eat your food, and probably (hopefully) wouldn’t scream that it was “fucking raw”. 

“And what would you cook for me?” he asks. 

You hum in thought for a second. “You’ll have to marry me first to find that out.”

He laughs, a proper laugh that settles in your stomach, spreading warmth through your chest. “I’ll think about it. I can hear music, what are you listening to?”

You straighten up a little, the question catching you off guard. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at the song that’s playing. It’s not his type of music, you’re almost positive about that. You almost don’t want to tell him out of embarrassment. You’re not sure why you feel embarrassed; you know Corpse isn’t an asshole, he wouldn’t make fun of you. But music is so personal to you, so personal, it’s like baring a piece of your soul; which sounds so fucking cliche, but it’s true.

“Uhhh...It’s called Make out in My Car by Sufjan Stevens,” you reply.

He hums in affirmation. “It sounds nice; from what I can hear.”

“I can turn it up?” you ask, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You could always sing some for me,” he offers. 

You laugh a little, scrunching up your nose. “And why would I do that?”

“I thought you wanted to get married. You have to woo me,” he replies.

“Woo you?” you ask, your tone incredulous. This isn’t how you pictured the conversation going.

“Yeah. Woo me, yn.” he says, dragging out the “o” causing you to laugh again.

You sigh dramatically. “I haven’t warmed up or anything, it’s gonna sound so bad” you warn as you put the song to the beginning.

“I’m sure you sound great. Go ahead, woo me.” 

You shake your head as you softly sing. “I'm not trying to go to bed with you, I just wanna make out in my car. And though I'm dying to fall in love with you, I just wanna make out in my car”. You stop and you’re suddenly very aware that you have essentially just serenaded him. Good going, brain.

It’s silent for a beat too long, and the smile that graced your lips starts to fade as the embarrassment starts to set in. 

“Well now we definitely have to get married,” he affirms. And there’s that fluttery feeling again.

You swallow, moving the conversation swiftly onto Among Us. You grab your laptop that was next to you, humming in acknowledgement as he walks you through downloading it. 

“So there’s a few of us joining us tonight, it should be really fun.”

“Oh. It’s not just us two?” you ask. You focus on the download, watching the number increase. You’re nervous at the prospect of playing with other people, strangers, for the first time. 

“No, it’s a 4 player minimum. We’re going to stream as well.”

“Corpse…” you start. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails, a habit you do whenever you get really anxious. This was meant to just be a cute moment where you learnt how to play a game, not a big event where people would be actually watching you, judging your every move.

“We’re going to do a few games off stream with you, you don’t need to be there for the stream after if you don’t want to,” he interrupts. 

“Okay,” you trail off, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip. You feel a little better, but not by much. You didn’t know who the other people were, what if they hated you? You ask this out loud.

“I’ll be there. You know Rae and Sykkuno. Felix, Sean and Toast will be there but they’re super nice, I promise.” His voice is sincere, and it soothes you. You don’t know him, not really know him, but you trust Corpse. You know he has his own struggles, and you believe his promise; he wouldn’t screw you over or put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with.

The rest of the call is him taking you through how to play and how to set up something called Proximity Chat so everyone can talk to each other in the game. He says it’s easier once you actually play, and it doesn’t sound particularly hard quite honestly, you just hope you don’t get imposter on the first try because you’re not the greatest liar. 

The game screen pops up, and you type in the code that Corpse gives you. You say goodbye to Corpse, who tells you to text him if you need any help. You drop into the game lobby, and you look at the little astronaut. There’s no time to dwell as a cacophony of voices hits you.

“YN!” Rae screeches and you chuckle at her enthusiasm. You’ve known Rae for a few years now, you met at college and had become fast friends. Though you had many different interests - gaming for one, you considered her your best friend. Rae was the type of friend where you didn’t need to talk every single day, you could message her a week later and it would be like no time had passed at all. And you loved that, sometimes you just didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes your mood wasn’t the best, and you needed a little time to recharge. And she understood that, something that you were eternally grateful for. 

“Raebies!” you screech back, using your “pet” name for her.

“I’ve been trying to get you to play forever. But Mr Smooth Operator over there slides into your DMs and suddenly you’re a gamer now?”

“It sounds so sordid when you say it like that,” you reply.

“Hi yn! Glad to see you playing with us,” Sykkuno says. You greet him and the others, making sure to say hi to everyone in the game. You didn’t want to start off by being accidentally rude. You listen as everyone talks amongst each other, and you talk when spoken to, but you aren’t interjecting. It wasn’t anything against the other players, it was just a little overwhelming, and you were figuring out what everyone was like.

“Hello,” Corpse’s voice interrupts your train of thought and you greet him along with everyone else. 

“Aw, I wanted purple,” you say, frowning at Corpse’s name above the astronaut.

“We can switch,” he replies.

“No it’s o -” you start to speak before you realise he’s already switched to white. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You smile as you switch to purple, and you decide to add a flower for a little pizzazz.

“It’s your first game, I’ll kill you if I get imposter so it’ll even out,” he jokes and everyone laughs. The countdown begins and you puff your cheeks out, exhaling as it gets to 1. You’re nervous again, a seemingly common theme of the night. Your shoulders relax as the word CREWMATE flashes across the screen.

You watch as everyone but Corpse disperses from the cafeteria with haste, and you look at the keyboard to press the buttons to move.

“You ever see an old person text? That’s how I’m picturing you right now,” Corpse says as you walk together to Weapons.

“Shut up Sonny,” you reply in your best old woman voice, getting a laugh. You open up the task, shooting the Asteroids with ease. “Yay, I completed a task!”

“Good job,” Corpse replies, and you beam at the praise. You move down to o2, doing your task while Corpse does his.

“Wait, you could be imposter right? How would I know?” you ask as you walk together to Navigation.

“You wouldn’t, you just have to trust me,” he says, his voice full of charm.

You scowl. “Well that just makes me not want to trust you.” 

Before he replies, there’s a blaring alarm. DEAD BODY REPORTED. You blink at the suddenness; you were really enjoying the relaxing pace of the game. You look at the screen;  Felix has been killed.

“Who found the body?” Corpse asks.

“I did,” Rae answers. “I was in admin, and was going to lower engine and it was there in storage.”

“If you were in admin, why didn’t you go up through Cafeteria?” Toast asks.

“Because it’s quicker to go through storage,” Rae replies. They argue between themselves, and you listen intently and silently. It’s a lot of information, you can’t tell whose lying, but you guess that’s what makes a good player.

“Where were you yn?” Sean quizzes, and it takes you a second to realise you’re being spoken to.

“Oh. I was in um o2?”

“You don’t sound too sure there, pretty sus,” he says. Your face heats up a little, you’re not the imposter, but it feels like you are.

“She was in o2 and then we went to Navigation,” Corpse answers, and you breathe out as he takes on the interrogation.

“Oh you were together?” Rae asks, and you know that tone she’s got. It’s the tone that says she’ll be messaging you right away.

“Well yeah, it’s her first game, I’m not gonna leave her alone,” he says and you smile at that. 

“Yeah we’ve been together the whole time,” you add and it’s left at that. No-one votes anyone out, since no-ones really too suspicious. You carry on the game, and you find yourself really enjoying it, though the questioning part is kind of stressful. You can see why Corpse likes it so much, it’s really fun. You’re in electrical, humming as you do your task when Rae comes next to you. 

“Hey,” you greet her.

“I’m sorry, nothing personal,” she replies. Before you have a chance to say a word, she kills you and you look on in shock as your ghost floats above your body.  You listen into the meeting as Rae continues to lie and plead her case. She’s good, but Corpse knows better.

“Wait, you said you found her in electrical and you were where?” 

“I was in Upper Engine, and then I went to electrical to do my task,” Rae answers, her voice even and calm.

“I was in Lower Engine, and I didn’t see you,” Corpse says, and you grin at the fact Rae’s been found out. That’s what she gets for killing you.

“You were doing your task, I passed right by you,” Rae starts. She pleads her case, but it’s too late and she’s voted out.

“That was so much fun!” you declare. “I can see why you guys play it all the time.”

“Yes! We have converted another!” Felix shouts in victory.

“And all it took was Corpse,” Rae mutters sarcastically.

“Don’t get bitter Rachel, just get better,” you reply, causing the group to laugh.

You get the hang of it after a few games, and find yourself agreeing to stay while the others stream, though you decide against it yourself. You’ve only streamed once by yourself, and it was a very casual affair and you don’t want to feel too much pressure while you enjoy yourself. You know that Corpse gets nervous when he streams and he’s been doing it for so much longer, so you can only imagine how nervous you would be.

You tap your fingernails against the keyboard as the lobby counts down, any previous nerves have been replaced with excitement. 

IMPOSTER flashes across. You’re the only one, your astronaut looks lonely on the screen by itself, and the red letters almost taunt you. 

“Shit,” you mutter as your brain goes into overdrive. What was it Corpse had said before? Not to be too obvious. You don’t kill immediately, instead going at your previous pace to not look too suspicious. You were still fairly new to the game, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

You fake your task in Cafeteria before venting over to Navigation where Toast was.

“Hi Toast!” you greet, coming to stand next to him as you pretend you’re doing the task. 

“Oh hey yn,” he says. It doesn’t seem like he suspects you, and you’re not quite sure when to click the Kill button. You do it anyway before running out and going down and into shields. There’s adrenaline running through you as the dead body’s reported and you crack your knuckles before putting on your game face. You were going to play dumb, play the confused newbie - because to them, that’s what you were. 

“YN, where were you?” Corpse asks. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t going to get away with this.

You twiddle your hair as you draw out your words, playing the role perfectly. “Uhm I was in...shields? I think that’s what it’s called. I was in the cafeteria before that though.”

“Wait, you couldn’t have, I was in weapons. I would have seen you,” Sykkuno says.

You open your mouth to talk. “She could have vented,” Felix comments, and the rest of the group starts to agree.

“Guys, I don’t even know what venting is. I literally just started playing,” you point out, giggling.

“That’s true,” Rae agrees and you knew there was a reason you loved her.

“Bullshit! She’s playing you with her “oh I don’t know how to play” schtick,” Felix proclaims.

“Aw, that’s kind of rude, Felix. I’m just enjoying the game, doing the tasks,” you say, pouting a little. He’s the next on your list. 

Everyone skips the vote and you lean over your laptop, ready for the next round. You were going to win this. You kill Rae and Toast next, and yet again, manage to worm your way out of any suspicion. You can sense that Corpse and Felix are starting to get suspicious of you, and you know you need to bring out the big guns to throw them off.

You catch Sykkuno in Med Bay after checking the cams in Security.

“Hi yn!” he greets, and you almost feel guilty as you kill him. He’s so sweet and innocent, but unfortunately, casualties are a given. You pass Felix as he comes out of reactor and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll have to talk your way out of this one again.

“I passed yn as I came out of reactor,” Felix shouts with a hint of glee.

You roll your eyes; this is going to be tough. “Yeah I came from Upper Engine, I was finishing part 2 of a task.”

“I was in Electrical, where was the body?” Corpse asks.

“Med Bay. And the only one that could’ve been there was yn,” Felix starts.

“Well no, you could have passed me and killed Sykkuno then self reported,” you reply. “I think you can do that right?” 

Corpse hums in agreement. “Oh come on! She’s being really sus,” Felix argues.

“You are being a little sus yn,” Corpse comments.

“Corpse. You don’t really think it’s me do you?” You decide to lower your voice a little, your tone sweet but sultry. “You only taught me like an hour ago, there’s no way I’d be able to fool everybody so quickly.” You get close to the mic so it’s like you’re speaking only to Corpse. “Remember what I said? You’re a master at this.” You’re laying it on thick, and for a brief second you think you’ve been too over the top.

“This is difficult,” Corpse says, and you see the seconds count down, your heartbeat starts to quicken.

“Corpse, stop being a fucking simp and vote her out!” Felix demands.

“Corpsie baby,” you drawl out and you smile in success as you hear him sigh, almost shakily. You’ve got this in the bag. The victory screen flashes up and you cheer.

“Fuck yeah!” you shout, patting yourself on the back. You laugh as you exhale the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Good game yn!” Sykkuno comments, the others agreeing.

“Not fair, you used your womanly wiles against Corpse,” Felix says.

“Gotta use them for something. Not my fault Corpse knows where his allegiance lies,” you reply laughing a little.

You stretch, your back crying out in pain from being hunched over so long. You let out a long, loud moan of relief as you straighten your spine, your shoulders relaxing as you move from side to side.

“Your mic’s not muted” Corpse points out, clearing his throat. You feel your stomach drop and your face instantly becomes hot. Shit. 

“Oh. Uh. I totally forgot about that,” you say, forcing out a chuckle. You screw your eyes shut, any happiness has been now replaced by red hot shame. “So this was fun, uh, really fun, but um, I’m gonna, I’m gonna go. So...yeah. Bye guys, have fun!” 

You click to exit without giving anyone a chance to say a word, and drop your head into your hands. 

“Can’t wait to see what they say on Twitter about this,” you mutter into your hands.

TAGLIST (if youre bold, it wont let me tag): @teenageguitarist @fanworrior  @cherry-piee @mirahg  @clara-bee @cookinglovingalien @vir-tual @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @little-red02 

[rose-lord-of-simps]

When Mammon Finally Snapped.

Request: Could you do something with mammon snapping at his brothers Bc of their words *insert emojis this author can’t- oh wait I can copy and paste hold on-

Request:  Could you do something with mammon snapping at his brothers Bc of their words 👉👈

@mammons-baby

First of all, just let me say, I too, am a slut for Mammon. Second of all, I got so excited at your request so thank you for sending it in!

Enjoy!

Warnings: Cursing! (remember if cursing bothers you but you want to read feel free to just ask me for a clean version!) Mammon’s brothers being super mean to him. And mentions of blood but nothing detailed. Mentions of his brothers punishments and ripping of nails.

It was an accident. 100% pure accident. 

“Mammon what the hell did you do?”

“How come you always assume it was me!?”

“Who else besides you and Beel could manage this level of chaos in the kitchen?”

Mammon really didn’t mean to set the kitchen on fire! Again...

“This is getting expensive Mammon. You need to stop being a nuisance.”

“Hey guys, this smoke is not good for my complexion so can we figure out how to put it out already?”

“Don’t let Mammon do it, he’ll only make it worse, as always.”

“Hey!”

----

“Scummy Mammon. Go away and leave me alone!”

He just wanted to see his brother. Levi hadn’t left his room for nearly 3 days and Mammon was worried.

“No let me show you brotherly affection and play video games with you!”

“I don’t want to play video games with you! Go find something else to do!”

Ouch. Normally he’d play with anybody.

“Sorry.”

————

It was not Mammon’s day.

The witches had called on him a lot and his clothes were all torn.

It’s started raining on his way home but he didn’t have an umbrella.

And he was operating on barely two hours of sleep.

All Mammon wanted was to sleep, but of course even that’d be a challenge. As he walked into the HoL the first thing he noticed was Beel and Belphie in a blanket nest snuggled up together.

“That looks so comfy, can I join?”

Cuddles sounded so good right now.

“No stupid Mammon.”

“Sorry, he’s grouchy because Lucifer woke him up from a nap on accident. But maybe it’d be best if you didn’t join.”

He should have known. This wasn’t the celestial realm. His brothers didn’t want cuddles anymore.

Mammon made his way back to his room, nearly tripping on air on the way, but didn’t fail to pass by Asmodeous undetected.

“You look like shit.”

“Gee thanks.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with you but I’m going out and don’t need whatever it is. So just... stay away. Okay?”

He really should be used to this by now.

He shouldn’t be crying silent tears by the time he gets to his room.

By the time he falls asleep he’s so exhausted he doesn’t get dinner.

————

It’d been four days.

Four days of no Mammon around the house.

He was never at dinner, seemingly always sleeping through.

He didn’t show at breakfast, already having left the house.

And none of the brothers had similar classes to their scummy second born.

Lucifer was the first to notice and tried to catch him when he came home but on the fifth day, Mammon just didn’t come home.

When someone finally pointed out that Mammon hadn’t been around recently and possibly could be in trouble, it of course was Beel.

“He doesn’t usually leave for this long though, what if he is in trouble?”

“Then why not just let him perish?”

“I agree with Levi. Let him wither wherever he is.”

“Enough everyone. Mammon’s been keeping a few crows in the aviary right? I’ll send one out and we can follow it, see if it leads us to him.”

“How do you know that’ll work?”

“It’s a dumb crow. They like Shiny things and his hair is a shiny thing.”

“Ya’ll are welcome for that, that shiny hair is because of me.”

————

When they finally found Mammon, it wasn’t pretty.

His normally white hair with almost purple iridescence was now a light brown, covered in dirt and what looked like soot.

His glasses were no where to be seen.

And his demon form was out, wings tied and possibly bleeding.

And the responsible demons were no other than the witches.

What hurt the brothers the most was seeing their normally lively sibling looking as if the life had been sucked out of him.

“Do you think this image will haunt them in their dreams?”

“Can I eat em?”

“What if we rip off their nails first.

“You underestimated us.”

“He May be a scummy demon and a terrible brother.”

“But he is our brother and we will not tolerate you harming him.”

For once, Mammon thought his brothers cared.

————

“What were you thinking Mammon!?”

He was wrong.

“This is disgraceful, you can’t keep getting in these situations. It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re embarrassing.”

“What would be a suitable punishment?”

Punishment?

For what?

Getting hurt?

If they were just gonna do this then why did they save him?

“If you were just going to punish me then why save me?”

“You’re our brother, you may be annoying but we care about you.”

“Since when did any of you care?”

“That’s not fair, we’ve always cared you’re just being dramatic.”

“I’m dramatic? Lucifer makes an entire demon out of pure rage and I’m the dramatic one?”

“Mammon-“

“No! I practically raised all of you! I brought Lucifer meals when he missed dinner, I covered all of your heads on the fall down, I planned Lillith’s service without any help because you all were mourning, I was the one who cuddled all of you when you had nightmares, and how was I thanked?”

“Mammon you’re being ridiculous-“

“I got hung upside down from the ceiling for days on end, I have fucking scars that I don’t remember getting because my brain has repressed the memories, I’ve gotten called scummy and an idiot for giving into my sin when all of you are excused, I’ve nearly died on multiple occasions covering for your asses when you do something wrong so Lucifer doesn’t get you, and when I try to reach out I’m pushed away by my own family.”

“Stop being so serious you know we love-“

“Love me? Love me!? You never cared about me. It took you four days to realize I was gone. And when I was hurt and obviously traumatized I’m told that I’m getting punished for being a victim. For being an embarrassment. If you wanted me gone so badly then why have just let me die!?”

The worst part was they all knew he was right.

They knew they used him as a punching bag.

They knew he’d taken the blame for them on multiple occasions.

They knew he was the only one who got criticized for his sin.

They knew he raised them.

They knew that if it weren’t for Mammon then they wouldn’t know what to do.

Which is why it hurt when Mammon left and didn’t come back.

====

I don’t like how this turned out but I’ve been having a lot of writers block lately and I’m glad I was able to get something out. I may try and come back to this when my writers block isn’t so bad.

[delicrieux]

—MAKE YOU SAY “OH” EXTRAS: TINDER

extra meaning non-canonical occurrence; can be placed anywhere in the “make you say oh” timeline after couple (cha. 14) and before the final “oh”. 

pairing—corpse husband x f!reader warnings—tinder profiles, tw: men, swearing.  word count—2.6k. format— written. ─── ��� req by nonnie​:  y/n makes a youtube vid/live stream where she's just swiping through her tinder acc and corpse literally blocks her lmao

author’s note—akldsljfs this was such a funny idea i could not not write it lmao

ultimate masterlist. myso masterlist

You have pulled the biggest brain move by setting up both a facecam and a screen recorder on your phone. All is beautifully displayed and visible during the stream. Your fanbase is particularly intrigued on what exactly are you planning on doing today, seeing as your tweet of “strea” had been a bit vague, if not downright ominous. No emojis. No elaboration. You couldn’t even be bothered to finish the word. Truly, a mystery. Everyone tuned in and are currently waiting with bated breath.

A few of your fans must sense upcoming doom because the overall mood in the chat turns from optimistically intrigued to...evil. It’s an entity all on it’s own now, clawing at you through the screen with various renditions of laughter and devil emojis. A few eggplants thrown in there for good measure, accompanied, naturally, by the scandalous water drops. At first the common consensus is that you’re biting the bullet and going through your camera roll on stream. Definitely an idea worth considering, though you frankly don’t know what lies at the start of the 11k photograph journey, and you are afraid to check in public. Could be a harmless meme, could be a salacious pic you had saved of an OF star. It’s really a gamble. Either way, you would definitely get banned. You might still get banned. Why do you insist on doing shit like this?

Because it’s funny. Because you’re kinda stupid. Because it’s just so absolutely laughably easy to do.

A smile quirks your lips, and while it is not explicitly smug, the look in your eyes sure is, “Greetings,” You utter lowly, dimming the lights--the budget for this stream! Ugh, you went all out, “my children.”

mother i crave violence

sensing evil energy rn!!

i do not claim the energy in this video for myself or anyone else watching this 💖💖

^with peace and love shut the fuck up

“I know y’all lowkey hoes-” Upon your words the chat splits into two: one side eagerly agrees (even shares a few OF accounts! How helpful, supporting small businesses!), whilst the other feverishly insists on innocence. You make a face stuck somewhere between offended and bewildered, “Now c'mon now-I know you. I know you all. We’re the same, don’t-what was that?”

You try to scroll back to the comment but it’s loss in the sea of incoming messages, “I swear to God I just saw-”

Corpse_Husband: i love late night streams it’s not like i have anything better to do.

“COOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORPSE!!!!” 

rip headphone users

i cant feel my face when im with you by the weeknd but instead of face its my fucking ears

yall think full vol on pc is better?my parents woke up 😭😭😭😭

To think he’s spending his last waking moments for today with watching you (he probably still would have anyway, because you do not posses an ounce of shame or self-control and pester him relentlessly)! It makes your heart sing, and suddenly, a traitorous, fun hating idea barges it’s way through the crowd of incoherent buzzing and states: don’t do this. For some reason it also has the voice of Rae. As if that would work in guilt-tripping you- Rae never succeed, and her fictitious rendition in mind won’t fare much better either.

Still, you thought about it. That must count for something. Corpse will understand, won’t he? Why don’t you want to upset it in the first place? Men look so funny when they lose their shit, like hello, don’t you have anything better to do? But the image of Corpse just sitting there, hurt, distraught, leaving you on seen because he’s in his sad boy hours leaves a sour taste in your mouth. 

queen rly went from  🥺😊 to 😕 u ok bbgirl?

Corpse_Husband: no pouts cutie

akjdjoeijdfse cUTIE??? deadass boutta r.i.p.

Well that succeeded in eliminating everything from mind, doubts included. If this was an anime, the scenery would shift into something roseate, with flowers and bubbles and sparkles all around you along with a halo or two. Alas, not an anime, rather reality. The led-lights, however, seemingly possessing a will of their own, slowly turn from deep violet to pink. You smile brightly, like the absolute dumbass you are, and you are met with a ray of heart and blushing emojis. You are just so cute, a real cutie! Still in your disguise adorable state, you swipe your finger on your phone screen, the grin never leaving your lips.

There, among the plethora of apps, nestled sits a red square with a white fire plastered on it. The delicate calligraphy on the bottom reads: TINDER.

The mood changes once again- you’re giving the roaches emotional instability by how quickly everything flips over- and the chat spams eggplants vigorously; some, of course, bravely fight against the thirst.

nooooooo i thought y/n is gonna stream in a god honoring way!!!

^pack it up girl defined

“So, Charlie and I-” You note a few awfully curious comments and squint, “-yes, we talk a lot. Charlie is a really good friend of mine. We’re best friends. Brothers. Sisters. Cousins. The whole fucking family tree-no, that sounds weird. Delete. Anyway, Charlie, being the absolute fucker he is, said, hey, you know what would be funny? And I was like, nooo, what would be funny, Charlie? And he says to me, he says, says, making fun of men on Tinder. And if y’all need any more proof that Charlie and I are platonic soulmates, then dunno, my children, my roaches, I dunno-I dunno what more to give you.”

You can’t be bothered reading the comments, there’s too damn many. You also need to save your reading comprehension for the actual bios. It has a time limit, that darn thing. 

“Okay, so I made a profile earlier, but I hadn’t swiped on anyone yet-” Despite the fact, Tinder helpfully informs you that already 99+ people have swiped right on you, “So, this is me,” You show the pictures you have of yourself, and damn, not to be a conceited narcissist, but you look really good. Like if you saw yourself on Tinder, you’d super like instantly. “Uhm, so, my bio-my bio says: let’s sauce in the tub together, ya dig? splishy splashy, giggle giggle.” 

i cant believe we are witnessing y/n trying to form a coherent sentence live 

shes trying give her time

ya dig??? y not capeesh

what scene from the godfather is this lol?

“My anthem, is,” You laugh, covering your lips with your hand, “Corpsie, this is form you-” Proudly, you show that indeed, Corpse’s E-GIRLS ARE RUINING MY FUCKING LIFE is listed as your anthem on Spotify, “Hehe.” Yes, you say that aloud.

Corpse_Husband: you’re killing me Corpse_Husband: thanks baby Corpse_Husband: now delete tinder ❤︎

You ignore his last quip, deciding it’s finally time to get this show on the road, “Right, let’s do this shit. I’m not actually going to swipe on any guys that look, uh, decent? Yuck, can’t believe I just said that, uhm, because I-because I feel like some actually deserve a chance with someone? I don’t wanna get anyone’s hopes up, as I am currently in a long distance relationship with Chrollo. So I’m just gonna swipe on, like, frat boy assholes. Because I don’t care if I hurt their feelings. Quite frankly I don’t think they possess them in the first place.”

The chat voices their agreements. With the ground rules set, you, giddy, click on the first profile.

Does Tinder know what you’re doing, your plan? The FBI agent watching you through your phone must be working overtime, bless his heart. They must, because the the first guy to meet you is named Jason, and there he is, blond hair and blue eyes, holding up a fish the size of his torso. Marginally adequate in looks, pretty good muscles. A solid 7 bordering on 8. He’s the same age as you, 15 miles away, and he studies at some college you don’t care enough to look up. Bio reads:

I like to drive fast. Fishing is my passion, but if you can’t catch me by the ocean, you’ll catch me catching waves, bro! Love a good gym date. You do squats, and I’ll keep a close eye to make sure you’re doing it correctly ;) You probably saw me at a party. Leader of the The Phi Kappa Psi. I’m a Gemini, if that matters lol.

You, of course, read it aloud, dramatically; provide some constructive criticism-he seems nice, but he’s a Gemini, so naturally, you can’t trust him at all! Also, that gym date session leaves little to be desired. With your rant done, you swipe right, and shocker! (not), it’s an instant match.

“Okie, I still wanna swipe of some profiles, so I’ll see what he’ll text later-” For a second you wonder the legalities of this stream, but you’re having too much fun to think of it further, “guys, I won't get sued, right?”

NOW she considers it

well....

if you do, we’ll kickstart your lawyer dw <3

Onto the next profile. Kevin, 25, is seen fixing his car- or, you assume he’s mid-fixing it, you don’t really know why else he’d hold a wrench and be covered in oil. He’s shirtless, and the caveman part of your brain echoes something closely resembling AWOOOGA!, but...but!...blonde hair, blue eyes. You pout again, “I don’t...I don’t really like blond boys, ya know? With the blue eyes and all, it’s just not my thing, uhm, unless it’s like-like...Armin from Attack on Titan. Else I don’t care.”

Onto the bio:

You have to treat a car like you treat a woman: go on long rides, take the lead, but most importantly, keep her oiled up 😜 

“What the fuck did I just read?”

The chat is equally confused. You swipe right anyway- another match. Too easy.

The stream continues without incident for a solid thirty minutes- all of your matches, expect a few that genuinely looked like normal dudes that really couldn’t write a decent bio to save their lives, had been blond hair blue eyed gym rats with ranging forms of misogyny. Some opened with asking for nudes out right, some asked about your day first before asking for nudes. You prefer the former. Straight to the point! You admire the gall. 

But then, down the forty-five minute mark a profile popped up that made you still by your phone, your smile dying as your eyes bulged. Dear God. Lord in heaven. Who is this demonspiit lookalike and why is he so fucking hot? The neck tats, the skateboard, the clothes- holy shit, you gotta close your mouth before some drool dribbles out.

No bio, just his name, Tyler, and that he’s 23.

“He boutta be 23 in me.” You mutter, swiping right with lightning speed.

WHAT DID SHE SAYYYYY?????????

tyler is y/ns karma for relentlessly mocking that one guy that had a whole ass list on what his “female” partner should be

^he deserved it and also tyler seems like a typical fuckboi y/n grow a braincell

look at mom 🥺 her eyes are sparkling

It wasn’t a match right away. You somehow expected as much, but it still upset you. Simp behavior, pathetic. The stream continued bravely, and when Tyler messaged you a simple “yo” you totally didn’t sequel. You didn’t manage to text him back on stream: texting all those guys that you didn’t really find all that attractive was easy, but this...You’re a sucker for a man who radiates red flag energy. His whole profile is a red flag. He might just be a red flag himself.

What can you do? Suddenly becoming color blind is not easy. Once the stream ends, you unmatch with everyone expect Tyler. He you chat with for a bit, but a sudden craving for different company makes you abandon him, too. You don’t feel too heartbroken for him- you’re certain there’s already too many girls in his dms. You wish them luck.

Happily, you delete Tinder. You go to Twitter, notice you’re trending again- look at you go! Queen shit- and as you compose a thank you tweet, something strange happens. You go to text Corpse, but when you click on his profile you grow cold.

YOU’RE BLOCKED. You can’t follow or see @/Corpse_Husband ‘s Tweets. 

...Pardon? You hop onto Instragram and-also blocked. Seriously? And you thought you’re one petty bitch. Corpse is seriously prissy about everything. Damn, if he didn’t like your stream, he could’ve just said so. Didn’t need to, like, block you from his internet existence. So not cool.

You try texting him but no text go through. Well how will you let him know you deleted Tinder just like he asked? You relieve your frustrations by punching your pillow a few times. Later, you apologize to her, you didn’t mean to hurt her, it’s not her, it’s you. Fuck, 5 minutes of exile and you’re already loosing your mind.

“Raeeeeeeeeeeee!” You whine loudly. It’s roughly 2am now, but you don’t care. You’re too heartbroken to care. There’s a thump from her room, but nothing else, “Raeeeeeeeee!!!” You wail, wallowing in self-pity on your bed. You hear a very loud, very annoyed sigh from her room, followed by angry marching. Your door is abruptly thrown open, and in the dim, colorful light you see her scowl.

“What?” She grits.

“Can you please tell Corpse to unblock me from everything?”

“What did you do now?”

“I made fun of men on Tinder.”

She pauses, “...That doesn’t sound so bad.” She surmises, voice laced with suspicion, “What else?”

“...There was one really hot guy that I kinda sorta talked to after--”

“Y/n.”

“-But I totally deleted Tinder and honestly he was pretty boring, so, like, uhm, please?”

She sighs, the servery of which implies she is holding the weight of the world on her shoulders, and instantly you know that you won. She taps away at her phone, “You owe me one.” She states, and before you can reply, she exits your room and slams the door behind her.

Grinning, you text his phone again. The message goes through, oh gosh, you’re so relieved you feel like crying. This has been, officially, the worst five minutes of your life.

You Y DID U BLOCK ME LOSER!!! MAJOR LOSER ALERT!! I DELETED EVERYTHING IT WAS A JOKE r u still mad at me? y u always mad at me i never do anything:(

my husband You’re my baby, how do you think I’ll react when I see you publicly simping for some asshole on Tinder?

Oh no, he used the words, he delivered the killing blow. You’re finished. Your heart can’t take such a workout. 

Not that you would ever admit it to him, though!

You hehe ur jellyyyy u always dis jealous hehe?

my husband Not jealous.

Yeah, you might not be the brightest tool in the shed, but even you know that’s a lie. You send him an array of kissy emojis that he doesn’t have the decency to reply to. Then, completely unprompted and dead serious, you send him a simple voice memo, saying: “You really have nothing to worry about, you know? You’re my favorite, Corpsie.”

He responds via text, reiterating that he’s not fucking jealous and that he just doesn’t like when you show such outward interest in anyone but it’s not like he cares or anything. It’s just really, like, weeeeird to see his baby simping for another man like that totally ruins the whole dynamic!!! It was only natural that he should block you on every social media platform, including his personal number (which, like, was completely necessary! Doesn’t matter that his viewers can’t see it, it’s gotta be super believable!), and inform his followers of that, because it’s all a joke, like, for the dynamic, that Youtube grind, you know? Ya dig? No personal feelings were involved at all. He totally wasn’t upset that you found someone else cute, no way!

my husband I’m not jealous. Lol.

You ik u repeated tht like 50 times  u trynna convince me or??? lmao

my husband No comment. ...You don’t actually talk to anyone else like we’re talking, right?

You no one else calls me their baby if thts wat ur wondering at least not to my knowledge lol im all urs

my husband That makes me very happy to hear:)

Yeah, it makes you very happy, too.

hope you liked it!! xx

[astranva]

TikTok Series | Anyway, so.

Word Count: 1.2k

Category: Fluff

Warning: Idk, language? Idk anymore but no heavy stuff it’s literally just TikTok content

Request: for your tik tok series i can imagine y/n and harry trending and harry would be like “what did you post now?” and it would actually be the fans this time. the “i’ve never seen two pretty best friends” with videos of them being like they are both pretty so that’s a lie. loving that series

** THIS IS SO CUTE I LOVE IT! i hope you like it, and let me know what you think 🤍

// masterlist //

..

The numbers only went up with your TikTok; the views, the likes, the comments, and the followers.

What started as just you having fun during quarantine, ended with a verified account and demanding fans of your boyfriend asking you to take part in many challenges and pranks.

“y/n’s tiktok is basically just her cooking or pranking harry or dueting stans’ videos with a hood on and i love every second of it”

“tiktokers: doing stupid shit to gain money

y/n: anyway dudes, here’s how to make grilled cheese with no cheese for if you’re too broke to get any”

“when y/n duets thirsty tiktoks I just can’t help but think of how much I want a partner this chill”

“can anyone start any new couple challenge already? I want new harry & y/n content k thanks”

Fans were vocal about how much fun they had with your TikTok, some adding sentiments that made you emotional like;

“never thought I’d feel connected to anyone who’s with harry but here’s y/n replying to tiktok comments like we’re all a bunch of friends”

“I kid you not, the reason why I’m excited to eat at school is because I’m always excited to try y/n’s easy recipes and I just love her so much”

“not me meeting y/n, harry styles’ gf, at the grocery store today and greeting her like we grew up together bc that’s how I feel about her”

Along with laughing together at videos, you and Harry also seemed to always have a new catchy song to sing around the house ever since you first installed the app, with how it has helped artists’ music go viral. Hell, even funny songs would get stuck in your brains.

On your phone was proof of that. Standing behind an oblivious Harry as he cooked one day, he was in shorts and a tight top, flipping toast on the stove as he sang, “Chicken wing, chicken wing, hot dog and bologna, chicken and macaroni, chillin’ with my homies,” wiggling his butt as he did.

You hadn’t posted since the “How well do our brains work together” TikTok you posted with Harry, so when you saw yours and Harry’s ship name trending with 84.7 million views to it, you were confused to say the least.

Sitting beside Harry as he was on his laptop, you moved closer to lean against his side, his arm reflexively wrapping around you.

“We’re trending on TikTok.”

“Aren’t we always?” He smugly asked, looking at you.

“No,” you laughed, “Usually after I post something, yeah, but I haven’t posted in two weeks.” You said as you clicked on the hashtag, seeing pictures of you and Harry in many videos along with different faces with titles.

Clicking on a video with 6.3 million views, you and Harry watched as a girl filmed herself with the background music sounding and someone speaking through it, “I ain’t never seen two pretty best friend. It’s always one of ‘em gotta be ugly.”

The music then stopped, Nicki Minaj’s voicing being heard, “Ummm...Chile. Anyway, so,” before Noahplause’s song, Runnin’, came, and with it came pictures of you and Harry.

A picture of the both of you from Dunkirk’s premiere; Harry in his suit with his arm around your waist as he looked down at you with a smile. You in a dress that matched the color of his suit, one hand on his chest and another on his shoulder, smiling to the cameras.

A picture of you lying on the sand at the beach in your swimsuit with your eyes closed, Harry’s head resting on your stomach as he looked up at the camera with a neutral face, it being a picture from when he was filming the Watermelon Sugar music video.

A candid picture taken by paps of Harry standing behind you with his arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your head as you stood in a park with a couple of friends.

A selfie you had posted to your Instagram story of you lying your head on Harry’s shoulder, him looking to the side, making his sharp jawline perfectly appear.

A picture of you and Harry kissing from one New Year’s party you attended; your hands on his cheeks, his tangled in your hair. It was a low-quality picture, but it still showed clearly that it was the both of you.

You and Harry were watching with amused expressions, laughing in surprise at the trend his fans seemed to start.

“This is so cute, what!” You laughed at the video, “Let’s watch another one and duet it.”

“What does that mean? What do we do?” Harry asked, looking at you.

“It means, I’ll choose to duet so when I post it, the two videos will be aligned together and we’ll watch that video as we record.” You explained, scrolling before pausing the next video and tapping on ‘Duet.’

“So, it’s like a reaction?”

“Exactly,” you nodded, “Ready?”

“Yes.” Harry grinned, turning his body slightly.

Your phone showed yours and Harry’s faces, both of you with small smiles before you made sure that the mic was opened and began recording, the video you were reacting to beginning to play.

It started with a ceiling as the man spoke his line. When it came to the guy saying “two pretty best friends”, Harry had mouthed along, gesturing between the both of you making you laugh.

Nicki then spoke, and in came Runnin’ with pictures of you and Harry.

First one was of just you smiling to the camera.

At this, Harry’s smile widened.

Second one was Harry smirking at one of his shows from 2018.

You hummed, nodding slowly.

Third one was of you with makeup, an eyebrow raised and a hand to your temple, posing for the camera.

“Insanely good.” Harry said slowly with a shake of his head, eyes fixed on the phone. You cooed, pouting at his comment.

Fourth one was of Harry smirking in the tulle-detail, off-shoulder trench coat from his Vogue photoshoot.

“This one, yes!” You exclaimed, causing Harry to laugh.

Fifth one was the same picture of the both of you from when he was shooting his Watermelon Sugar music video.

“I love this one so much.” Harry said before giving a genuine closed-lipped smile as he remembered the exact moment the picture was taken.

“Right?” You smiled.

Sixth one was a video of the both of you dancing, your arms around his neck, his hands holding your waist, as it showed the both of you grooving with Harry singing to you with a smile on his face.

“Shut up, I didn’t know this existed.” You gasped, Harry chuckling.

Seventh one was a picture taken by a friend of yours; your eyes were closed in childlike happiness, Harry sitting beside you and looking down at you with a dopey smile as one of his hands squished your cheeks.

“Hey, that’s my lockscreen!” Harry beamed, instantly holding his phone to yours, showing that the last picture was, in fact, his lockscreen so excitedly before the video ended.

Posting the video, you added a caption to it:

“we have the biggest smiles on our faces. you’re all so adorable thank you😭 (also 10/10 for calling us best friends)”

“We are best friends,” Harry said, letting out a sigh before dramatically wrapping both arms around you, giving you a squeeze, “Best of!”

[shroudcore]

Speak now, or forever hold your peace. (II)

Summary: You crash the wedding with Grim and Ortho. Unlike the others, proposing isn’t on your mind. You come with a very different approach. 

An angstier take on Ghost Marriage. Idia x GN!reader. Reader is MC, or takes the role of MC in this story. (Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)

Warnings: none

If the students of NRC thought they’ve seen Eliza at her angriest, they were wrong. The fury she displayed now was incomparable. While Idia fawned over your dramatic anime-worthy entrance, the new interruption was getting on her last ghostly nerve.

“Guards! Seize them!” she roared. Immediately, the ghosts went into action. Idia held his breath as he watched the obedient ghosts charge at you, Grim, and Ortho. He hoped you didn’t barge in with no plan. If you didn’t come equipped with useful items, you would end up like everyone else. 

Chubby, determined to get rid of the intruders that caused distress to his beloved princess, was eager to get rid of you. (”Simp”, Idia muttered) However, eagerness wasn’t enough against an opponent equally as determined. As soon as he got too close, an unknown force threw him backwards to where Eliza floated, shocking the princess.

“Chubby! Are you alright?”

Idia, on the other hand, was elated. 

“Th-that’s so OP!” he exclaimed. He knew you heard him, because your gaze flicked to him for a split second before looking away. Embarrassed, Idia shut his mouth. He’d expected at least a smile. 

After Chubby’s failed attack, other ghosts attempted to face your group. They only met the same fate. Confused, they could only pay their apologies to the princess and watch on in helplessness. Just what did you have up your sleeve? Who did you get such an SS-tier item from?

“Princess, it’s impossible to stop them!” the last of Eliza’s guards told her. For the first time that night, she looked afraid. 

Grim guffawed, while you smirked. A familiar look. It was always there before you jumpscared an enemy, or before you checkmated a poor opponent. Idia might have thought it was kinda hot. At the moment, he was oblivious to his gaping mouth, and how wildly his hair blazed. What were once lightly blushing tips were now an alarming red—a level of ferocity never seen from him before. 

“You can’t touch or hurt us!” boasted Grim, a devious smirk on his face. “We had some he—mprfgh!” He was abruptly cut off by Ortho’s robotic arm covering his mouth. Idia’s brother shook his head at your noisy dorm mate. 

“Release my big brother now!” he demanded. Idia grimaced, but didn’t feel too worried. As long as Ortho was with you and your anti-ghost protective shield, he would be safe. 

As expected, the ghosts were affronted. 

“How dare he order the princess like that?”

“You ought to be punished for your insolence!”

“To intrude on a royal wedding and speak disrespectfully! 

“Send them to the gallows!”

One talked, and one talked over the other. Soon, all that could be heard was an unintelligible susurrus of disembodied voices. One ghost had enough of it, and shouted to Eliza: “Princess, the kiss! Do what must be done!” 

“NO!” You and Ortho yelled at the same time. You continued to walk towards the makeshift altar as your two companions followed close behind. Ghosts rushed to block your path, but you pressed on as your invisible shield threw them back. It looked absolutely badass. Well, anything you did was cool to Idia, anyway. 

 “Out of my way!” You commanded, strong and unwavering. He’d seen you annoyed and angry before, but never up to this point. It basically radiated off of you that a danger warning could be floating above your head. 

“S-so intimidating... “

“So scary!”

Sure, this wedding crasher looked like you, but something was different. An unexplainable sinister aura wreathed you tonight. Was it your glare, or was it that regal suit you wore? Idia must have been too distracted by you, that he only noticed now how your cape seemed to drag shadows with it. You were a villain... much like one of the villains from his video games! And something else that was familiar. 

Whatever it was and wherever it came from, there was a menacing presence in the hall tonight. 

All were silent, except for the wind whistling through the hall. If one listened more carefully, they would hear drowned-out cackles. But it is just the wind, right?

“Wh-who are you?” Eliza finally asked. The ghosts who were ashamed at being unable to seize you began to form a protective ring around their princess. Eliza herself, Idia noticed, was starting to curl in on herself—her presence shrinking the closer you approached. “What do you want?”

“The groom,” was all you said, staring her down as if eyes alone could exterminate the ghost in front of you. 

“Idia?” she asks weakly, glancing at her tied-up groom. Idia said nothing and did nothing but look at you, attempting to telepathically communicate his panic. You barely even looked at him. 

“He’s mine.” 

Hold up—?

More gasps and chatter. They sounded less like whispers and more like the buzzing insects he heard whenever he snuck out at midnight. The world spun. Idia stared at you open-mouthed. 

If he were asked to describe his state of mind at this moment, it would be similar to a loading screen. Suddenly, everything you did together played back in a 1.75x supercut sequence. 

Mine. 

Mine. 

Mine.  

“Wh-what?” Eliza sputtered. “What do you mean?” 

You answered her, voice losing the steadiness it possessed just moments ago. “You have the man I love.” 

Wha… 

KDJAFCKSAJHDKACBSXCJSIEUDS?

Idia.exe has crashed. Reboot? 

~~

The audience’s reactions were varied. Some students on the floor were amused by the spectacle and could have used some popcorn (and a comfortable position) during these times. Some were horrified and disappointed by the idea of the prefect being in love with Idia Shroud the shut-in. Some were much too confused to feel anything. 

“Pardon…? What did I just hear?” Azul asked the floor.

“Puppy love,” Lilia wept, sniffling very loudly. “You know, this reminds me of when I was young...” 

“Whaddaya mean when you were young?!” Floyd snapped. His irritability had spiked up even more when you arrived. His position prevented him from witnessing the events. Everyone on the floor could feel his bad mood rolling off of him in waves. 

“Hey! Watch your tone when speaking to Lilia!” scolded Sebek. 

“... Are they acting?” Leona mumbled. 

“Oh, this better be an act.”  said Vil.  “... though it does not seem to be.” The last part of his observation remained unheard by anyone else, except for Rook. 

“I believe we are witnessing a genuine love confession,” added the Chasseur d’Amour himself, voice soft as he sighed dreamily. “Engrave this moment into your memories, everyone! We are fortunate to witness it…”

But no one shared his enthusiasm about the situation. The others expressed their displeasure by groaning and complaining. “... well, even in this state we are in?” he added as a follow-up. 

~~

Reboot. 

You once fell asleep on Idia’s shoulder after finishing a movie. It was something you both only watched to make fun of, but you were apparently too tired to give your top-tier jokes and meme references. The contact sent his heart into overdrive as he froze, begging for option boxes to appear and help him. The flames of his hair blazed so brightly that it woke you back up. It was embarrassing, and sometimes he would remember it late at night and cringe. 

It was happening again, but worse. Any moment now, he was sure that he alone could burn down the cafeteria, if not the whole school. This was stupid. Why did he get that worked up over an obvious act? A mere ploy to get the ghosts to release him?

Reality catches up and deals him triple attack damage. Crowley probably put you up to this. You were probably annoyed that you were forced to do this, weren’t you? That’s why you couldn’t even look at him. It had to be the cruelest joke that fate ever threw his way. 

“I can’t say I don’t understand you, Princess,” you tell Eliza, forcing a smile. “Idia is perfect, is he not?” He felt your eyes on him. This time, it was he who couldn’t quite meet your gaze. Looking down at the floor was all he could do; it couldn’t judge his blushing face. Only when the warmth in his cheeks faded did he feel it safe to look back up again. 

“You see him, don’t you, Princess?” Your voice began to falter, losing the confidence and authority in it that scared the ghosts. “He’s so much more than what everyone else thinks! We agree on that, don’t we?”

Eliza’s face softened, nodding. “Yes. I’ve seen how these people insult him!” she tells you, gesturing to the ‘failed princes’ on the floor.

“But we’re still different,” you stepped closer, but still far enough so that your invisible anti-ghost forcefield wouldn’t activate. “You don’t want to marry Idia, you want to marry your fairytale prince.” 

Eliza appeared to be genuinely confused. She looked around at her companions, before turning back to you. “What do you mean?”

“You’re in love with your ideals, not the person himself,” you explain. “You only chose him for his appearance. Am I right? His personality, likes and dislikes, and possible flaws don’t matter to you.”

Eliza seemed deep in thought. While she was silent, you release a bitter laugh and threw your hands up.  “I mean, do you even know what his favorite candy is?”

Pomegranate drops. You asked to have some, but he refused to give you any. He wouldn’t tell you why, but he let you assume it was his favorite and didn’t want to share because of that. 

That wasn’t it, though. Maybe he’d tell you once you were both out of here. 

“You’ve never stayed up until 4am just to join him on a raid!” You waved your hands wildly, lost in your rant. Whether Eliza understood you or not, you seemed to have stopped giving a damn. 

“Weak!” he teased, noticing your drooping eyelids and reduced concentration. Deep down, he felt bad for keeping you up late.  “Look, it’s fine if you need to rest.”

“Nah, let’s finish this. What are you going to do without me?” you replied, smirking.

“You don’t even have 4-hour conversations with him on Magicord VC like I do!” 

It lasted up until 3am. You two were laughing at memes. He could hear a groggy Grim complain in the background about the noise. 

“Alright. Here’s a question, princess. How much would you risk for the man beside you right now? Bet that’s where we’re different...”

Eliza’s gaze darted back and forth between you and Idia. Even the other ghosts were silent, waiting for your next words. 

“... because if you ask me, I would risk everything! That’s why I’m here wearing this stupid suit!”

It’s not real. It’s not real. The emotion behind every word was a punch to the gut. If you kept this up, he might need a healer soon. Ever since he realized he was falling, he tried to quell the sparks of hope you ignited whenever you did something nice for him. All that hard work was gone. Each word you uttered was gasoline. 

“To think that if I arrived minutes later… th-that I would never see him again!” A sob escapes your throat, your intimidating persona crumbling.

No, don’t do that. Idia wanted to reassure you that he was still there and he was okay, but he couldn’t. It’s part of an act. It’s part of an act. 

“So please… just let him go.” The front you wore has completely dissolved. There you were, reduced to a sobbing mess in front of a ghost princess and the students of NRC. 

You weren’t the only one. All traces of anger or fear have vanished from Eliza’s face. Instead, she put her hands over her mouth. The princess had been moved to tears. Finally, she turns to Idia. “Idia, they seem to l-love you very much… ”

“That’s right.” You wiped your tear-streaked face and pointed an accusing finger at the ghosts. “And all of you! Are you going to enable her forever? Encourage her shallow ideas of what love should be?” 

They all looked down, unable to meet your eyes. 

“You have no right to just snatch him up and claim him as yours,” you told Eliza with an unfaltering resolve, despite your tear-covered face and your crumbled front of strength. “Did you never think… that there could have been someone waiting for him to return?” 

“I-I never meant to!” Eliza cried. “I was so blinded by my own happiness. I never thought… never even considered…” 

“Princess, it’s alright. We all make mistakes.” Chubby told her, trying to be reassuring. 

“Tell me, intruder. How else am I going to find my prince?” she asked you with no trace of hostility. You stopped for a while, staring at her. 

You must not have expected the question. Idia saw you look at him—it was the longest time you’d looked at him all evening. Clearing your throat, you began to explain. You fumbled a bit, scratching the back of your neck and tugging at the hem of your coat as you explained what a perfect partner should be. 

As you spoke, Idia was enthralled by your voice and most of all, the knowledge you possessed about love and romance. He hadn’t seen this side of you before. How did he ever think that a hundred dating sims could make him a romance expert?

“Is that so?” she sighs, bowing her head. “I understand now. I’m so sorry… for causing you so much grief.” 

She turns to her companions, giving them a sad smile. “There’s only one thing to do. Everyone, we must stop this wedding.” 

Idia wanted to fall to the floor in relief. At least a few exhausted sighs and weak cheers could be heard from the wedding “attendees”. You fell to your knees, exaggerating your gratitude. 

“Thank you, princess!”

“But Princess… what about your happily ever after?” Chubby interjected. 

“I can’t tear two lovers apart!” Eliza wipes a few of her own tears, then turns to you. “I was deeply moved by your words. I dream of having a lover like you,” she sighs dreamily, probably imagining her future lover already. 

While the students of NRC rejoiced at this victory, Idia’s heartbeat quickened in fear. What if Eliza decided to take you for herself?

“Princess…” Chubby muttered, sighing. Eliza only gave him a reassuring smile. Phew. Idia relaxed, grateful that she doesn’t have the idea… yet. He didn’t know what to do if that thought became reality. 

Eliza turns to address the hall with a smile. “I have decided.” Everyone waited with bated breath for her announcement. Idia squeezed his eyes shut and silently urged her to announce their departure already. 

“Idia and I will not be married anymore. She smiles wide, and clasps her hands together. “However, there will still be a wedding!”

Your smile faded. “What… what do you mean, princess?”

She beams. “To make up for my mistake, I will make sure that Idia and his lover are married tonight!” 

~~

To be continued.

Tagging: @teashopwritingzz @twistedcrumbs 

Well, that was long. To think that I was planning for the story to be a one-shot! Once again, keep an eye out for Part 3. Thank you for reading! 

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)