#sarcastic and bitter and absolutely about to get the crap knocked out of them?

[whump-in-the-closet]

I feel like I’m being too obvious but I definitely associate you with hero and villain whump

👀well can’t really argue with that *ahem* i do love villain and hero whump and i am not about to say otherwise

also like that’s the majority of the pieces i write

so there is that i suppose

[ubernoxa]

The Token: A GNR FanFic

Chapter 3: You’re Insane

(Masterlist)

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist.

Chapter Summary: Betsie confront Michelle aka Duff about how stupid her plan is. Michelle realizes that keeping up the charade might be harder than she originally thought

Taglist: @smokeandmirrorz

“Are you fucking insane,” I looked up into the bathroom mirror to see Betsie standing behind me. She knew who I was no doubt about it.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I replied before drying my hands.

“Give it a break Michelle, I locked the bathroom door, so it’s just you and me in here. You don’t need to keep up the act,” it was clear that Betsie had seen right through my act, but here was no way I was admitting it.

“Michelle?” I continued my charade hoping she would leave.

“Don’t play dumb bitch, I know your eyes! Don’t forget I’m the one who would do all of your eye makeup when you were apart of Pixie,” she shot back while I remained silent staring her down. Maybe if I don’t talk, she would leave?

“Oh fuck this,” it was in the moment that Betsie jumped towards me and placed her hand on my fake dick.

“Is that a sausage,” I pushed her off of my before he could continue messing with it.

“Well yeah, I’m a guy so I have a dick,” I replied trying to keep it nonchalant. Spoiler, I was failing. I wasn’t ready for someone to lunge at me and grab it.

“Jesus fucking Christ Michelle, I know it’s not real because it’s currently sliding down your leg,” she shouted back. For the first time all night I was glad that the music was loud.

It was there in the bathroom that I admitted my defeat and pulled my pants down to fix my sausage that was currently sitting at my knee.

“Didn’t know you were so religious,” was the only comment I could muster as I fixed myself. There was something wrong with adjust my sausage in front of Betsie, and by something I meant everything.

“Cut the crap, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m dressing as a guy to join a band. After I ‘left’ Pixie six months back I’ve been apart of 5 bands. I’m sick of it. I’m sick of being treated different than any other male bassist ....People don’t take female musicians seriously, you know that. I just don’t understand why they treat me differently. I’m just a musician no different than them.......this was actually Walter’s idea,” by now the two of us were sitting on the countertop talking.

“He seriously recommended you to do this?”

“Why? You don’t think he would recommend it?” I quickly shot back earning a giggle from Betsie.

“I would pray he wouldn’t. He the most sane out of the three of you,” without thinking I let out a quiet snort.

“I like to think I’m pretty sane,” I teased back causing laughter to fill the bathroom.

“What?” I quickly questioned only earning more laughter from Betsie.

“You? Sane? You have a sausage taped to your fucking thigh! Sane people don’t do that,” she gestured towards the sausage.

“He meant it as a joke, but it actually worked. It was the easiest band audition I’ve ever had. We didn’t play music until like two to three hours into it. It’s different you know. Being a boy musician versus being a girl. I feel like I’m actually apart of the band, not just the token girl. They weren’t dicks when I started playing, and we just had fun!” I sent Betsie a warm smile to only receive a frown.

“You know this is wrong..right? This won’t work! I get you’re able to hide your boobs and shit, but they will find out one day. This is going to blow up in your face, and you won’t recover from it. Enjoy it while it lasts, but one day you’re going to slip up. Everything you’ve worked for will disappear, and you will forever be known as the girl who dressed as a guy to get in a band. Guys will hate you because you pretended to be one of them...they’ll probably think it’s weird as fuck. The girls though..we will never forgive you. You’re betraying all of us. You’re sending the message that a girl can’t make it unless she is a guy,” I immediately cut her off.

“I’m showing the guys that I’m just as good, maybe even better than them. I can play the drums, guitar, and bass, but you don’t see ANYONE coming and knocking on my door asking me to join their band. You wanna preach how I’m betraying girls everywhere? You wanna bring up how I’m not ‘loyal’ to the other female musicians on the strip? Take a moment to look in the damn mirror, and think about what you and Pixie did to me when I was forced to leave the group,” before I could continue, it was her turn to interrupt me.

“We didn’t force you...”

“Oh really? Don’t get on that bull shit! You kicked me out and then spread shit about me. Do you know what it’s like when you show up to an audition and everyone thinks you’re a whore? Do you know how differently guys treat you? Pixie destroyed my reputation with the bullshit lies y’all spread. Don’t you dare give me crap about how I’m betraying the girls of the strip. Y’all betrayed me a long time ago,” I shot back. Silence filled the bathroom as neither one of us was going to break eye contact.

“You can’t just throw us all in a group and blame me for what was said about you too!” Before she could continue, I interrupted her again absolutely don’t with her bull shit.

“When you sat quietly and did nothing while they spread those rumors about me, that’s when we stopped being friends. Actions speak louder than words. Your action of doing nothing spoke volumes,” I shot back.

“They would have kicked me out of Pixie, Michelle.”

“Oh shit! They would have kicked you out of the band? Pixie has never done that before! That sounds terrible...so sorry to hear,” I sarcastically replied. I wasn’t bitter, I was pissed.

“I don’t give a damn what you think of me. All I want to do is to play my bass. I want to do what I fucking love, no matter the cost,” I added breaking the silence.

Betsie nodded her head before she headed towards the door. It must have been clear to her that there was no way she could talk any sense into me that would result in me changing my mind. Before she left, she turned to me and asked, “What are you going to do if you actually make it big? You know you can’t keep this charade up forever.”

I didn’t answer. Not out of stubbornness, but because I didn’t have an answer. The truth was that I had no fucking idea.

“Just promise me you won’t forget who Michelle is,” with that final statement she left me alone in the bathroom as I pondered what the fuck just happened.

After carefully splashing some water on my face and trying to calm myself down, I was left with one question. Could I trust Betsie with my secret? As I stared myself down in the mirror, still not used to my own reflection, the answer was yes. Not because I trusted her or knew she would never betray me or some shit like that. The answer was yes because that was the only answer. I had to keep the charade going. I had to keep being Duff.

————————-

I stood in my uncle’s coffee shop sporting a brown wig as I took orders from the next customer.

The wig was rather annoying and created several problems for me during my work shift. The first was that you could tell it was a wig by the fake hairline, so I had to wear a hat at all times. The second propblem was that it was hot as hell under that wig and my head was sweating like no tomorrow. The third was that I could only pull it back in a low lose pony which sadly was the hairstyle I spotted throughout middle school. Also known as the highly debatable worst years of my life, but who know that might soon change. It all depends on if Betsie opens her big fat mouth about me dressing up as Duff.

“Did you do something to your hair Mic? It looks different?” I perked up at my Uncle’s words.

“Just dyed it. I was tired of the old color and Macy offered to do it for free,” in my defense it wasn’t a complete lie, so he shrugged it off and went back to his office to work.

“What did you really do to your hair?” My coworker Derek quizzed once my uncle left.

“Dyed it a color he wouldn’t approve of,” I answered the questions just like I practiced with Macy maybe it wouldn’t be too hard.

“Ohh how very punk rocker of you. The wig looks realistic thought, where’d you get it?”

“Stripper friend of Macy. How’d you know it was fake?”

“I saw you take you hat off to scratch you head. The hairline is a dead giveaway. Don’t worry your secret is safe with me,” he whispered before heading to the back room to do inventory.

I peeked up at the sound of the door creeping open. Great, just what I needed. I watched as Axl and Izzy cautiously walked into the small coffee shop.

I was thrown for a loop as I watched them get in line behind an older woman who was a frequent customer who seemed to be holding her purse a little bit tighter than she was moments ago.

“Be careful of those two boys behind me. I think they’re up to no good,” I smiled at the older woman and promised that I would make sure everything was going to be okay. I looked around the room and like clockwork my uncle offered to make her order. There was no doubt in my mind that he had a crush on her

“Can I help the next customer please?” I put on a fake smile as Axl and Izzy stepped forward.

“Is this a joke?” I crossed my arms as the pair stood in front of me.

“What I’m not aloud coffee?” Axl protested as he seemed determined to keep up the charade.

“Only paying customers are aloud it,” I turned to Izzy before continuing, “What are you here for?”

“Did you dye your hair? It looks different,” I took a deep breath as I nodded my head. There was no way Izzy knew I was wearing a wig.

“Yeah, Macy offered to dye it, so I thought why not. I could use the change. Now cut the small talk, why are you here?”

“We’re looking for Duff, thought you might know where to find him,” Axl admitted after a couple seconds of silence. It was weird seeing him cooperative.

“Yeah, I know where to find him. I live with him. What’s up? You kicking out of the band or some shit?”

“No, he’s one of the best bassists we have had in our band. We have a gig coming up and we wanted to tell him our new practice schedule,” Axl continued before he handed me a piece of paper. I bit my tongue hard at his comment. Interesting on how yesterday he said Michelle was only mediocre.

“Does he have a job?” Izzy’s words pulled my attention from Axl. I didn’t know why, but he was staring me down. I didn’t like it, not one but.

“Yeah, works for Walter’s father. Walter was nice enough to get him a job so he could feed himself,” I was rather proud of how casually I was able to respond with another rehearsed lie.

Izzy remained speechless, but nodded his head. By the way he was staring my down I thought he was trying to look into my soul or some shit like that. Long story short, I felt uncomfortable.

“Will he be able to make these practice times?” Axl asked breaking the awkward tension between Izzy and me.

“From what I’ve heard, he will be working mornings, but I don’t know if that is his entire schedule,” I shrugged back. I was relieved to see that the practices were all in the afternoon which worked perfectly with my work schedule.

“Practice starts tomorrow, so just have him stop by. He knows the address,” Axl and Izzy began to walked towards the door, but before they left Izzy stopped.

My heart sank as he turned around and walked back towards the counter. Luckily I was just cleaning and there wasn’t another customer.

“Do you have a pen and paper?” I raised a brow at his question.

“Yeah,” I calmly replied curious to see what he was up to.

“Don’t worry, it’s just our number so Duff can call us if he can’t make the rehearsal,” Izzy said as he seem to write a lot more than a phone number on the paper.

“See ya,” Izzy said before hurrying to join Axl who was still receiving several glares from customers.

Once they left, I opened the note which caused my heart to sink.

Duff,

Below is our number if you can’t make it to practice.

*insert number here*

- Iz

Also, blonde was a good choice Michelle, brings out the color in your eyes.

Fuck. He knew.

[thenovelartist]

Burn Notice

AU August - Day 10 - Secret Agent AU

Chloe was as flashy as ever in her shiny, yellow sports car. But he’d never been so happy to see said yellow sports car in his life.

Until she threw open the door and started stomping towards him. That’s when he recalled why he sent off the occasional greeting. “Hey, Chlo,”

A sting engulfed his cheek, and that’s when she realized she’d just slapped him.

He was frozen a moment. “I deserved that.”

“Yeah, you did,” she spat. “You do realize that families normally keep in touch, right? Oh, I’m sorry,” she quipped, her voice turning sweetly sarcastic. “I forgot the whole spy excuse.”

Adrien cringed at the bite in her words.

With a groan, she rolled her eyes and yanked him to her car. “Come on.”

The drive back was silent and tense.

“So,” she started. “You show up after ten years of the rare thirty-second ‘happy birthday’ phone call, and you’re just like ‘hey can you pick me up from the train station?’ like the last ten years didn’t happen. You, sweetheart, owe me a serious explanation.”

Had he been able to reach Alya, he would have gladly bitten that bullet instead of this one. Unfortunately, no such luck. “Um… let’s just say that my boss decided to let me go.”

Chloe was silent for a while. “What?”

Adrien nodded.

“Let you go?” she asked. “Under what circumstances?”

“They didn’t have to give me a reason.”

“Bullshit!” she spat. “They better give you one, or heaven help me I will march to your boss right now—”

Her rant continued the entire car ride back to her home. Adrien only half listened, tuning out the points where she was just yelling aimlessly.

They pulled up to the hotel she lived in, and she tossed her valet her key. “Adrien can get his own bag,” she said, directing her voice at Adrien even though she was looking at the valet.

“Very good, Madam Bourgeois.”

“Madam?” Adrien asked, pulling his meager bag form the trunk.

“I own this place, Adrien,” she snipped. “You would have known had you kept in touch.”

Adrien tossed his head back and groaned in frustration, but he quickly tailed after Chloe.

“So,” she said. “What now? With this fired thing.”

“I don’t have anything,” he said. “I’m going to need a place to stay, a job, and time to get back on my feet.”

“You have money stored up.”

“My accounts are frozen until further notice,” he said.

Chloe quirked a bewildered brow at him.

“They think I’m a traitor,” he whispered, even though there was no one else in the elevator with him.

“What!”

He shushed her. “Voice down.”

“No! I… I don’t believe that.”

Adrien shrugged.

Chloe stared straight ahead at the elevator doors. They opened with a ding and she marched down the hallway to her suite.

“Chloe,” he said. “So… um… I mean—”

“You’ll stay here,” she said. “On one condition.”

“And that is?”

“You’ll help my friend with her work. She’ll pay you.”

“So… is that a job?”

She nodded.

Adrien’s stomach dropped. “What’s the catch?”

“That you have to help her or else I won’t let you stay here.”

“Yeah, but you offering me a job and a place to stay sounds way too good to be true.”

Chloe frowned. “Adrien,” she said. “This girl has become like a sister to me.”

Adrien quirked a brow. “Like a sister?” he repeated doubtfully.

She nodded. “And you know I don’t take that lightly,” she said. “Took me long enough to call you a brother. However, in my world, she comes before you, meaning I don’t really care about your discomfort level. 12 Rue Gotlib street.”

“12 Rue Gotli—” Adrien froze in horror. “No.”

“Yes.”

“But she hates me.”

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“When we parted ways, she threw a knife at my head.”

“If she hated you, you’d be dead.”

Adrien frowned, unwilling to admit Chloe had a point.

“Grow up. Be a man and go ask for a job.”

Adrien grumbled.

“Actually…” Chloe threw a set of keys at him. “Maybe take a nap first, then shower and shave. You look like crap.”

Adrien wouldn’t argue with that.

…

He stood in front of the door to a small fashion boutique, reluctant to admit that Marinette seemed to have done quite well for herself. Now if he only had the will-power to face her.

The door suddenly swung open to reveal a scowling teenaged girl with twin brunette ponytails. “Are you coming in or not? You’re blocking the storefront.”

Well, not much backing out now, was there. With a forced smile, he walked inside. “Um…” he started. “I’m here to see Marinette Dupain-Cheng? Is she here?”

The girl stared at him. “She expecting you?”

Adrien resisted the urge to cringe. “You can just give her this,” he said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a black business card with a green pawprint on it.

The teen took it skeptically yet retreated into the back. In the meantime, Adrien spent his last few moments as a living and in-tact human being looking over the shop. She was always good at this, making things from nothing. She could fabricate weapons from seemingly thin air. There was a time she almost got him with a couple shotgun shells and a lamp. Expecting to turn on a light only to have lead pellets sprayed everywhere was fricking terrifying.

The teen appeared at his side. “Boss wants to see you.”

He wasn’t sure if that was comforting or not. “Where?”

She led him to the back then up the stairs to a small apartment. She knocked on a door then opened it.

“Thank you, Manon. Let him in.”

Adrien entered, only to have the door shut immediately behind him.

The silence was tense.

“You have a nice shop,” Adrien said.

“What are you doing here?” she spat.

“Well, nice seeing you, too.”

“Don’t you have some secret mission to run, Chat Noir? One where I’m not needed?”

He cringed at the bite in her words. Seemed like all the women in his life were determined to chew him out, and bitterly, he had to admit he likely deserved it. “I didn’t want you on that mission.”

“Why?” she challenged. “Because I was a woman?”

“You being a woman had absolutely nothing to do with it.”

“Then why? Was I not capable enough?”

“I didn’t want you on that mission because it was too dangerous—”

“Dangerous?” she repeated incredulously. “Are you serious right now?”

“You were the target of a hit three different people were hired to do.”

“I could take care of myself.”

“I wasn’t willing to take that risk.”

She scoffed. “Really?”

“And you know it.”

“Do I?” she asked. “Because, if I recall, you left me. Alone.”

His heart hurt at her tone. “I had to.”

“Why?” she challenged. “What was so damn important that you had to leave me?”

The anger in her tone was now completely replaced by confused frustration. And Ladybug didn’t do confusion. Ladybug was smarts and skill and a little bit of luck. She wasn’t used to navigating the dark.

That was his strength.

“You were out of harm’s way,” he said. “I got to them before they got to you.”

“But you didn’t come back.”

The realization clicked in Adrien’s head. “I was pulled away for a mission,” he said. “And then another after that. I couldn’t exactly spend the time to look up a vigilante that the government wanted arrested. No matter if she did save my hide on ten different occasions.”

“Nine.”

“I’m counting Milan as two.”

There was a flicker of a grin. A flicker. But he’d take it.

“Chloe sent me for a job,” he said, changing the conversation back to the reason he was here.

“Oh?” she said, raising a brow. “And just what ‘job opening’ do I have?”

Adrien shrugged. “She didn’t tell me.”

She scoffed, though her smirk at least told him it wasn’t a bitter one. Seems like the anger was over. For now, anyway. “Even if I was hiring, I’m not giving you a job just so that you can have a cover ID.”

“I’m not looking for a cover ID.”

Her brow quirked in confusion.

“In fact,” he continued. “I don’t think I’m going to need one for the foreseeable future.”

She paused, staring at him long and hard. “Why?”

“I’m burned.”

Silence once again reigned. He was surprised that it was a shocked silence, though, not a tense one.

“What?”

Adrien just nodded.

“Why?”

Adrien shrugged.

Marinette turned to stare out the window. “Fine,” she growled. “For old time sake.”

“Thank you for the chance.”

“Afraid I was going to throw another knife at your head?”

“I was lucky that it was just a butter knife. I don’t want to know what would have happened if it were a real weapon in your hands.”

“You do know I could have still severely injured you with that butter knife, right?”

“You could do that with your bare hands.”

She turned back to face him wearing a twinge of a smile. “At least you haven’t forgotten that.”

“Hard to when I’m still wearing a couple scars.”

She hummed. “Swing by tomorrow morning at seven and I’ll give you the run down on your job.”

“Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet. I’m still deciding if I’m going to let you live or not.”

“Fair enough.”

…

A week of working for Ladybug wasn’t easy. He knew she was making his life a living hell on purpose, which he probably deserved. Still, he did everything she asked without qualm or complaint.

Well, that he heard, anyway.

And that’s when another blast from the past showed up.

“Heard you went and faced the bug.”

Adrien grinned at the smooth voice. “Well, you know what they say about cats.”

“Have you found satisfaction yet?”

“Nope, and I’m pretty sure I’m a life down.”

“Well, that’s what I’m here for.”

Adrien huffed a laugh. “Really?”

“That, and because my own curiosity has hit the roof,” Nino said. “People don’t just burn their lucky black cat.”

“Lucky?”

“Oh yeah. It’s only the people you were assigned to that were unlucky enough to cross your path.”

Adrien collapsed into the chair opposite of Nino. “Apparently, my luck ran out.”

“Nah,” Nino dismissed. “No way you were burned for no reason. You were a prime operative. Don’t tell me it’s not eating you alive?”

Adrien narrowed his eyes. “You think it’s not keeping me up at night?” Because it was. It was haunting him. But where would he even begin to start plucking away at it? And how? He had to stay in Paris or else every French government agency would be breathing down his neck.

And then he looked at Nino.

Nino smirked.

Suddenly, a flicker of hope sparked in Adrien. “You think I could, say… cash in one of those favors you owe me and ask you to start digging?”

“Just gonna take some time and patience. And turtles are known to have that in abundance.”

Adrien grinned. “Lucky I got you.”

“See? You ain’t outta luck yet. Maybe your little lucky charm rubbed off on you.”

Adrien snorted. “Can we, like, not talk about her? Can we maybe talk about you and Foxy instead? How’s she doing by the way?”

Suddenly, Nino’s smile faded.

Adrien quirked a brow. “Um… did something happen.”

Nino opened his mouth, then paused. “Honestly,” he finally said. “I want to talk about that as much as you want to talk about Ladybug.”

As curious as he was, Adrien kept his mouth shut.

“I’ll just call in some favors of my own,” Nino said. “And maybe, I’ll find a little tail of yarn for you to start pulling at.”

“I’d massively appreciate it.”

With a nod, Nino stood. “You got it, bro.” He slapped Adrien’s shoulder. “Should I call the hotel with the info?”

“Got a phone,” Adrien said, lifting up his outdated brick. He rattled off the numbers to Nino.

“Now get out of here before Chloe finds you and kicks you out.”

Nino chuckled. “Okay, okay. I hear ya.”

“Just one thing before you go?”

“And that is?”

Adrien pointed to the door. “How’d you get past the key-card entry?”

Nino just smirked. “I have my ways.” With a finger salute, Nino slipped out the door.