#we were in a class together and said friend (A) was bein silly

[keebwee]

"i hate that person theyre weird theyre too immature and their interests are so embarrassing" time for me to go be friends with them bc they actually sound so cool. stop being a judgemental prick <3 let people be themselves. their passionate interest in dragons is not affecting you whatsoever

[mirrorforevers]

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

-

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

-

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

-

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

-

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

-

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

-

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

-

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

-

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

[sanchoyo]

danny phantom 14-20 thoughts!! I finished up s1 :D these last few eps were actually really really good!!!

-did. did tucker really just say esperanto was a dead language only spoken as a secret code between geeks. google says around 100,000 people actively speak it. oh my god...it being an auxiliary language doesn't mean its 'just for geeks to speak in code' ...it helps bridge gaps between people who don't have a language in common...

-danny really isn't pulling punches when it comes to fighting the ghost-cop possessed people huh. like he SLAMMED KWAN INTO THE CONCRETE SO HARD. HE THREW PAULINA INTO A BILLBOARD. will that...I mean it WOULD carry over to their bodies non-possessed, right? like if the ghost piloting their bodies gets hurt?? itd be so upsetting to be possessed, lose time, then wake up covered in bruises (and possibly, broken bones??) real horror movie stuff im sure wont be addressed in any way

-tuckers parents seem nice! I like them :)

-WULF IS CUTE AND I FEEL BAD. im so glad the gang realized he was only causing trouble bc of the shock collar walker put on him and helped. also, him wearing that big hoodie with the hood on, and thinking its subtle. we can tell youre still a giant wolfie :) THEN GETTING SUCKED INTO THE PORTAL AAAAH :( anxiously waiting to see Him Again....

-DANNY BLASTING HIS PARENTS THINKING THEY WERE OVERSHADOWED LMFAO GET THEIR ASSES. maddie marking how many ghosts she gets with lipstick tallies on the side of her portal gun? kindaaa iconic tho. (ALSO, SHE WAS LIKE, 2 FT AWAY FROM HIM RIGHT AFTER SHE TRIED TO SHOOT HIM. HOW DO YOU NOT RECONINZE YOUR OWN SON??? like sure, he might have diff hair/eye colors. but like, if one of my family members dyed their hair, and was wearing contacts, its not like id be like 'wHO IS THIS STRANGER!!!' ...he still has all his facial features!! same everything!!! I hate it here)

-paulina being #1 girl realizing danny's a friendly ghost immediately. smart queen. lancer and kwan ran away right after he made this sweet baby face at them:

which is hilarious.

-ok. im not saying his bullying is JUSTIFIED, but. dash looked so pleased with the (cute!) poster he just painted, and danny comes thru the wall and spills paint on his nice letterman jacket. his anger is justified maybe 65% of the time so far...(not the way he handles it, but STILL.) at least lancer is stepping in!! and them making a silly little bet was...cute?? until dash pulled out his GROSS UNDERWEAR AND SAID DANNY WOULD HAVE TO EAT THEM???? WHAT THE FUCK MAN. TUCKER WAS SO RIGHT ITS FUCKING WEIRD TO CARRY THOSE AROUND EWWW. THIS KID IS UNWELL. lancer was right, his animatronic setup was SUPER IMPRESSIVE?? hes actually pretty creative. danny meanwhile is stealing the fright knight's design...I hope dash is taking art classes or smth with his sports

-fright knight is the most bestest ghost so far i LOVE THAT DESIGN. I am biased towards knights, and characters with swords, but he fucks so severely. and should sue danny for copyright infringement for stealing his design for his haunted house. if some 14 yr old broke into MY house and stole MY sword, id also be pissed. his evil winged unicorn rules too with its FANGS. and he just CAN SHOVE THE PORTAL OPEN WITH HIS HANDS??? is he the strongest ghost weve seen so far? idk but hes my fav. SOUL SHREDDER IS SUCH A COOL SWORD NAME TOO. ANY NAMED SWORD ALSO FUCKS. 'flaming bedsheets of DEATH' funny king. ALSO he was polite to dash and tucker when just asking for directions and telling tucker 'oh maybe, just a suggestion, maybe be nicer to me and be more respectful :)' I LOOOVE HIM.

-I noticed this in the Ember ep, but jazz has an electric guitar in her room!! talent musical queen!! its cool to see hobbies just in the bg.

-fright knight's murder castle reminds me of the booby trapped murder castle in zexal!! another supposedly 'for kids' show with murder/trap castles! we love that. if you are a dp fan reading this, give yugioh zexal a try. its also got 13-14 year old protags and involves (alien) ghosts. the cardgame is just a vessel for the plot, which is really good. (I just want more people to watch my fav yugioh, man)

-danny. with a SWORD.

-danny doesnt NEED TO WIN this contest, dash didnt STEAL HIS DESIGNS AND STEAL A SWORD. he also got excited to hear lancer got sent to a dimension with his worst fears too just so he could win the contest? DANNY WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! BRO MAYBE YOURE 14 AND HAVENT FULLY DEVOLPED YOUR WHOLE BRAIN YET, BUT...THATS FUCKED. this kid casually says the most deranged things, I do worry for my spooky son. once again, therapy needed. that judo toss was great tho. I wonder if he actually did pick up some martial arts stuff from his mom?

-danny can fly 112 mph!!! thats so fast! I love the lil montage of him and his friends testing his abilities and stuff, very cute and a good way to showcase what he can do by now and how much more proficient he's gotten from ep 1!!! I'm sure he's going to get more abilities :)

-im glad...maddie's at least TRYING this ep. I do feel for her because her husband is a man baby. but the fact it took 16 episodes to get a kinda semblance of any kind of real concern or attempts at bonding. hmm. jack's 'BACK OFF SHES A MINOR' @ the ghost trying to attack jazz. also was very funny. and him wanting to make an action figure of her? are the parents redeeming themselves to me? slightly. they gotta Work Harder

-THE GHOST. IS FLYING. THE PLANE.

-fenton machete. but she doesnt carry a PHONE??? ???

-I mean I expected vlad when you namedrop him earlier in the ep, and also the title card picture, and dalv corp being fucking vlad backwards. but seeing him just pull up on a golf cart made me bust out laughing. WITH the gift baskets prepared. why wouldnt you at least be suspicious. also, if he wants danny to be his lil sonboy, why is he so fucking malicious?? dude you are going about this in such a bad way. stop it. get some help.

-maddie not even hesitating to drag danny out. fucking good. danny is so right, go on the internet to date. get a cat. how do you spend...how many years?? has it been since college?? at least 20, right, since the parents/vlad are in their 40s? hung up on ONE girl. my god, man. incel drama queen. her kung fu IS impressive, but dude. 'we both know hes a creep' SO right. it sucks but they do need a phone and shit being in the middle of NOWHERE. also, just stealing his helicopter was great. <3

-'you must be exhausted carrying the weight of that mistake you made years ago' 'well we all make mistakes. maybe I'll make one now!' WHY DID THIS EXHCHANGE SEND ME. AND VLAD WITH THE BREATH SPRAY EWWW BITCH. 'OLD BAIT BREATH' SOO RIGHT. both danny and his mom playing him HAHAH hes so dumb. or rather, I think he thinks with his emotions too too much and is...actually pretty gullible? lmao he believed danny was ready to give in SO fast. (which is sad hes that hopeful, like you have SO MUCH MONEY YOU COULD EASILY GET ANOTHER GIRL WHO HAS A KID. AND WOULD WANT TO BE WITH YOU AND BE SUPPORTED. GET OVER THIS (1) WOMAN ALREADY IM GETTING SECONDHAND EMBARRASSMENT AAAAH)

-GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR GHOST BEAR. it was also in the title card, but I still got very excited. we love bears here

-SAM'S BAT SWIMSUIT COVERUP!!! her outfits are simply iconic.

-'i'd tell you to go to the mens room, but I don't think you qualify' top paulina transphobic moments. :( and him wearing a tanktop to the swim park? hmmm! (actually I think she was overshadowed by then, so, KITTY top 10 transphobic moments??)

-kitty just piloting paulina around makes me feel SO bad tho, paulina's gonna wake up and be like 'wtf do you mean I was dating this rando' like youre leading danny on to make johnny jealous, and also just POSSESSING POOR PAULINA. dude take your relationship problems ELSEWHERE. last time we saw them, they seemed like such a cute couple!! wtf johnny!! I mean, she sucks for trying to make him jealous, he sucks for looking at other girls...maybe they need a break, but Not Like This. or, you know, just. better communication...

-and the A-listers having a full packet and a stamp system. who organizes this. kwan fucking owning being the new danny though, this is hysterical. THE TUCKER/KWAN FLOWER FIELD TWIRL. UNIRONICALLY ADORABLE. and him giving it his all for the poetry slam. bless his HEARTTTT.

-Star owns. actually, all of the extra characters are shining this ep and I love it.

-INVISO-BILL??? NOOOO THEY DID HIM SOO DIRTY. DANNY SWEETIE IM SO SORRY.

-johnny and danny bein friends and staging a fake fight (which danny takes too seriously, once again this child has aggression he NEEDS TO WORK OUT) I hope these three stay friends, I said it before but danny needs more friendly ghosts to hang with.

-at this point, Danny's ghost enemies are a lot like, I dunno, batman's rouge gallery is the first thing that comes to mind. they all have their own gimmick and unique designs, but most of them are easy to beat after learning the Moral Lesson. I still get excited when any of them show up again, though. 18 is another valerie episode!!!! :D skulker really said you two will get along if I have to handcuff you together <3 and the gym teacher really said, youre married now, have a flour baby! ngl, I'm not really watching this show for the shipping stuff (which I am very scared to look at the fandom for after I finish this watch through- I feel like there's probably discourse/arguing about ships...) but. I'm gonna put my opinion out there. valerie/danny > sam/danny. maybe I just really love the enemies to lovers trope. And the secret identity stuff adds Extra Flavor.

-SKULKER JUST HAVING THE BOX GHOST AND DANGLING HIM BY A STRING. HILARIOUS. and him watching them with binoculars and making his silly little commentary. AND MAKING THE SACK BABY CRY. LMAO. THIS DUDE IS A BABY KIDNAPPER. skulker is super fun

-danny, you just...collapsed the water tower. and then attacked the nasty burger machine...mascot thingy...out of anger..I KEEP SAYING HE'S GOT ANGER ISSUES BUT. HE REALLY NEEDS A LESSON IN MANAGING COLLATERAL DAMAGE!!! So does valerie!! They're both pretty focused on each other. I mean it's good of Danny to say he's trying to make sure PEOPLE don't get hurt, but... (I mean I guess it's not something 14 year olds WOULD worry about, but as an adult im like, who's going to fix that? how much money will that take??)

-TUCKER MAKING BANK. and sam and tucker being super emotionally attached to their flour baby and being pretty good parents. that's cute...also him just straight kissing her and being like. WAIT. O_O JDSKAFHD. his mom baking them into cookies was the funniest possible result. tbh I dont feel like this is on tucker, if anything the other kid's shouldve been more responsible! He was just taking an opportunity to get that $$ which I respect

-Danny being more understanding of Valerie's situation in the end (helping her at her job, too, and trying to keep that a secret for her!!!) And seeing them work together this ep, and also her letting phantom get her out of the ghost zone...was very sweet. LOVE that. more valerie eps pls

-me when I realize vlad's big stupid house exploded because of his own carelessness with changing the ghost portal ectofiltrator or whatever: *pointing and laughing*

-me when I realize it means he's gonna go make danny's life hell for it somehow: >:(

-SCOOBY PARODY!!! I feel like there's gotta be some scooby doo/danny phantom crossover stuff, right? also, 'guys in white' men in black wishes

-'oh, that's right! dad married the love of your life! you're bitter and alone!' DANNNNNYY GET HIS ASS ONCE AGAIN WE ARE POINTING AND LAUGHING AT VLAD

-'jack, you captured the ghost boy!!' UMM. he did nothing <3 'we have a weapon's vault??' YOU HAVE A WEAPONS VAULT??? and jack didnt put a handle on the inside. of fucking course he didnt! why would you leave that to your son!! or expect him to clean YOUR LAB when its where you work with probably dangerous chemicals and weapons and hes 14!! give him normal chores, like, I dunno, vacuuming, laundry, dishes...CMON. I hate it here. But I'm glad Jack is more chill about danny while he's a ghost, and willing to work with him for this ep. AND. I DID ENJOY JACK PUNCHING VLAD IN THE FACE. AND GENERALLY JUST OWNING HIM. the ghost punchy fists are actually amazing. like yeah, just punch a ghost in the face. that rules.

-ep 20 opens with the coolest fucking ghost lady design. her tattoos can come off and fight. MA'AM. I like ur nose ring and your cape maam hello 👉👈😳

-sam's grandma is hilarious and the most valid member of her family and I love her. thats my grandma now. and tucker covering for sam by dressing as her. thats true friendship <3 also skipping school to go to a goth circus. just bestie things! sam's parents are haters but for all the wrong reasons.

-'my family has controlled ghosts with this for generations!' WAIT. WAIT FREAKSHOW /ISNT/ A GHOST? I didn't expect that...he's just a fucked up guy controlling ghosts? anyway watching danny shoot at police cars and rob banks while mind controlled. its like, the most stereotypical 'bad' things lmao. (tbh an evil ghost circus troupe is a sick concept)

this gives off big deviantart emo edit vibes

(I'm going to assume evil circus reaper danny has a lot of fan content. people love an edgy au, except this one is canon (even tho its via mind control...having the protag go evil otherwise might be hard, I guess?) but au where he stays with the troupe...that has to exist, right?)

ANYWAY. excited to start s2!! lowkey surprised by how many notes some of these posts have gotten. I've gone back and tagged them all with 'dp thoughts' so they're easier to find on my blog! ^^ and I will probably possibly do (more) fanart on my art blog after I finish the watch of the whole show, so like. @sanchoyodraws follow my art blog :)

[hajimes-erect-ahoge]

Postmortem- Chapter 6

Kaito and Kokichi talk.

ao3

Ouma stared at the former astronaut standing in front of him, his mouth agape. What was Momota of all people doing at his door? And how did he even know to come to the emergency room?

“Hey.” Momota averted his gaze, one hand placed at the nape of his neck while the other rested awkwardly on the door. “Mind if I come in?”

Betraying a feeling of seriousness, his eyes drifted upwards to meet Ouma’s. Normally Momota would’ve darted his eyes away by now, but he held on firmly, searching for any hint of emotion on the other boy’s face. Ouma rolled his eyes and spun on his heel, heading back to his bed.

“Sure. Whatever.”

Ouma paused for a moment before continuing to his bed.

“As long as you promise not to kill me again.” He smirked, collapsing onto the bed. Ouma could only imagine the grimace on Momota’s face.

As much as he wanted to shoo him away, Ouma knew that there was no changing Momota’s mind when he was set on something, his stubbornness rivaling even his own. Fatigue dominating his brain, he reluctantly let the other boy enter the room. He promptly smothered his face into the pillow, trying to forget that Momota was even there or that this conversation was even happening.

Ouma knew where this was going; Momota was so easy to read and straightforward that such an encounter was to be expected. What Ouma didn’t expect, however, was for Momota to confront him in the emergency room, where he was supposed to be hidden away from the others. After momentarily being taken aback, Ouma composed himself and prepared himself for the unavoidable.

A brief silence flickered between them, save for the noise of Momota pulling over and seating himself in a chair besides Ouma’s bed.

“I’m sorry about what happened in the dining hall the other day. Maki Roll, she…” Another pause. “None of us thought that you would end up in here.”

Ouma shifted in his bed, laying on his side facing away from Momota.

Momota sighed at the lack of a response.

“Look, man. I know you don’t wanna talk about this kinda stuff with me, but…”

Propping himself up on one elbow, Ouma turned to partially face Momota.

“But what?”

While Momota seemed to be searching for the right words, Ouma took the time to analyze Momota’s facial expression and body language. He was seated in the chair with both legs apart, elbows resting on his knees and his hands clasped together. Momota’s eyes were glued onto his hands, his expression pensive.

“I heard you screaming at the nurses the other day. That’s when one ‘em came out of your room and told me what was going on. I just...” He tapped his fingers together, his body itching for relief from the awkward feeling in the room. “I just can’t relax, knowin’ that you’re suffering cuz of the rest of us.”

“So you’re here because you pity me?” Ouma deadpanned. “Because you feel bad for the odd man out?” Ouma sat up, turning his body fully towards Momota. “Because you feel guilty for killing me?”

Bullseye.

Momota’s fierce gaze had returned, boring into Ouma’s soul, seeping into his skin and mixing into his veins. Seeing Momota so utterly furious at him ignited something within Ouma, an impish desire to taunt the other boy that he just couldn’t resist festering within him.

“I’m bein’ serious, Ouma!” Momota ran a hand through his hair, visibly frustrated. “You can’t just fucking kill yourself! This is the real world! You’ll be gone forever if you do something like that!”

“Yeah, that’s kinda the point, ya know?” Ouma chirped, elongating his words. “But don’t get me wrong, Momota-chan!” He brought a finger to his lips, smiling deviously. “You don’t really give two shits about me. You’re only here to help yourself get over the guilt of killing me during the simulation. How selfish.”

“You little-” Momota cut himself off with another sigh. “Listen. I just wanted to check up on you after seeing what happened. I know you don’t want to hear this from me but we would be seriously upset if something happened to you.”

Ouma snorted. “Oh, suuuure! Everyone cares if Gonta and Iruma-chan’s murderer decides to off himself. Man, I’m sure Harukawa-chan and the others would be just devastated!” He snickered to himself before continuing. “Just be honest with yourself, Momota-chan… If I were to kill myself you would feel guilty, and you can’t take living with that kind of blame. Not after what you did to me during the killing game.”

Momota just shook his head. “You’re wrong.”

“Whaaaat? So you wouldn’t feel guilty if I killed myself? Geez, you’re way more heartless than I-”

“I’m not talking about that!” Momota pounded his fists on his knees, furrowing his eyebrows in frustration. “I mean that you’re wrong about thinking of yourself as the villain! You were just as scared as the rest of us! All you were trying to do was end the killing game!”

Ouma clicked his tongue and smirked. “Silly Momota-chan… Don’t tell me you actually believe what I said to you in the hangar!” He giggled and looked up, expecting to see a Momota seething with anger and about to walk out the door. Instead, what he got was a pitiful expression, and god did he hate having that sympathetic look directed towards him.

He got it from the nurses who entered his room where he isolated himself, from Saihara and Akamatsu helping him to his feet in the dining hall after Harukawa threatened him, and now from freaking Momota. That stupid look that just screams “Poor Ouma… If only he had succeeded in fooling the mastermind… if only he hadn’t sacrificed himself so tragically for the sake of his plan… if only he wasn’t so weak and helpless.”

“Of course I believe what you said!” Overly optimistic Momota was back in full force, pounding his fists together with that determined smile plastered on his face. “Why else would I have cooperated with your plan?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” Ouma tapped his chin in mock thought. “Maybe because I blackmailed you using Harukawa-chan? Or was it because I knew that an idiot like you would believe such an obvious lie as me wanting to end the killing game?” Pfft, as if! I never wanted the killing game to end to begin with! I looooved-”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

Ouma just stared at him, dumbfounded.

“You do?”

“Of course I do! You’re too scared of being vulnerable or whatever so you cover it up with this whole ‘evil persona’ of yours… It’s pretty easy to see through you at this point, after… you know...”

“I told you, Momota-chan…” Ouma grit his teeth, resisting the urge to tear Momota into pieces. “I was lying! I never have two shits about ending the killing game!”

Momota sighed.

“Whatever… I’m not the person cut out for this. If I can’t get you to admit your true feelings then I’ll just have to rely on…” Momota paused for a second, deciding to retract his previous sentence. “Never mind. But I promise you!” He stood up, holding a fist to his chest. “I’ll take down that mask of yours sooner or later!”

Ouma shot him a disgusted look as he made his way towards the exit.

Momota placed one hand on the door before looking back at Ouma.

“Feel better, dude!” He flashed him a smile and a thumbs up before exiting the room and closing the door behind him.

…

And just like that, Kokichi Ouma was alone once again.

That damn Momota-chan… Thinking he can just come in here and try and get a read on me. Who the hell does he think he is?

Ouma laid down again, pulling the shitty hospital sheets over his head.

Surprisingly, he didn’t feel like crying. Rather, he just felt empty, like all the energy had been taken out of him. Maybe talking to Momota was just that emotionally taxing.

Of course stupid Momota just had to come in here and try to have a serious conversation with him and he just had to overhear him screaming at the nurses to just let him fucking kill himself. Knowing Momota, their whole class probably knew about the whole ordeal already, and was silently wishing that Ouma had succeeded in killing himself. No one wanted or needed him around anyway.

...Should he have told the truth back there? Maybe just say fuck it and tell Momota that yes, of course he wanted to end the fucking killing game just like everyone else, and then have Momota run along and tell his “sidekicks” about what happened only for Harukawa to dismiss it as yet another lie and for Saihara to…

…

Saihara.

Stupid old Shuichi Saihara.

How would he react?

Stupid Shuichi Saihara, who probably hates Ouma’s guts for what he did during the killing game.

Stupid Shuichi Saihara, who isn’t so stupid at all and carried everyone through every trial.

Stupid Shuichi Saihara and his stupid long eyelashes.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Maybe Momota was telling the truth. Maybe all the others really had forgiven him for his actions, including Saihara. Maybe Saihara and Ouma could become friends and bond over the killing game, and Ouma could gush about how he was proud of Saihara for ending the killing game, and then they could-

...As if. Momota-chan was definitely lying. There’s no way that Saihara-chan would ever forgive me, let alone want to be friends with me.

...Why do I even want to be friends with him anyway? It’s not like I like him or anything like that… Kokichi Ouma does not have crushes… especially not on handsome, smart detectives who play along with all of your games, and who bandage your hand after you accidentally cut yourself and who-

…

Yep. Definitely not a crush.

Ouma sighed, rolling over in his bed and willing himself to sleep, suddenly exhausted. It wasn’t long before sleep claimed him.

And in his dreams was Saihara, mercury eyes alight with passion as he cradled Ouma lovingly, whispering sweet nothings into his ear.

In this particular dream, like many others, Ouma has no fear of opening up to Saihara, as he already knows all there is to know about him. They simply coexist, souls mingling and dancing with one another.

Clutching onto the bed sheets, Ouma peacefully snored, dreaming about a world that wasn’t as far off as he thought it was.

[deafgaynerd]

when you love her

A Miraculous Ladybug fic about Adrien/Chat’s love for Marinette/Ladybug based on the new Jonas Brothers song, Love Her. 

Read it on AO3

Drive me crazy, make me mental

No other buttons she can push

They don’t fight often, but when Chat Noir and Ladybug are fighting, Ladybug always knows just what button to press to end the fight. They rarely fight, because his Lady never wants to hurt him, and any negative feelings between the pair could be easily exploited by Hawkmoth. Besides, after every fight, when Chat turned back to Ladybug, the sheepish smile and apologies that spilled out of her mouth for what she said melted him. Her temper flared easily, but she was never one to stay mad at him.

Marinette, sweet, nice, wonderful Marinette, had a temper outside of the mask too. Adrien, both as himself and as Chat, witnessed this constantly. Whenever it wasn’t directed at him he often stood in awe. She always stood up for what was right, and was not willing to even let a silly little thing as liking a boy to stop her when there was an injustice.

One second she's Miss Sentimental

Then she’s afraid she's said too much

Being a superhero with a dedicated website that captures everything that happens comes in handy sometimes. Especially when you have those “let’s go back and see what we were doing two years ago” moments. If there is a calm moment and nothing seems to be happening while they’re on patrol on one of those days, Ladybug will go grab snacks from home and go meet up on the top of the Eiffel Tower with Chat, who had grabbed his laptop and they would watch videos of them when they were first starting out.

Before the reveal, Ladybug would often let slip little details from her life as Marinette and Chat would soak them all up and she would freak out. They couldn’t divulge their identities, it was too reckless, and she would make Chat swear time and time again that he wouldn’t try to figure out her identity from all the things she let slip. He would promise, cross his heart, and he kept that promise.

After the reveal, they would watch the videos and reminisce on how young and oblivious they were. Marinette would often laugh about how stubborn she was about identities when the love of her life and her best friend were of course, one and the same. Adrien would shake his head and hold her tight. It was one of these occasions when Marinette first told Adrien she loved him. To her, it was way too early in their relationship for that confession and she went bright red and hid her face in his chest, only to feel him shaking with laughter and picking up her head. He told her that he loved her too, and that he always had.

Opposites attract and we're the livin’ proof of this

But I keep on comin' back like a magnet

Their approach to akumas and to dealing with their biggest secrets were starkly different. Ladybug wanted to keep their identities separate, they could not afford to know each other’s secrets, especially when they were children and new to the whole superhero job. Chat Noir, on the other hand, wanted to know his Lady’s name and face more than anything. It was the biggest thing that mattered to him. For akumas, Chat was always charging in, trying to fight first and often ended up getting knocked down because of it. Ladybug was the opposite, she often surveyed her situation and thought everything out logically, especially once she had her Lucky Charm.

Chat Noir was told time and time again that he should move on. He knew he should, and he really did try. As Adrien, he looked around his class and tried to will himself to have a crush on any of the girls (except Chloe, he’d done that before and he still dealt with the consequences to this day). The closest he ever came to crushing on someone was the sweet girl who sat behind him. His only two problems were that he just could not get over Ladybug and that Marinette really seemed not to like him. He learned just how perfect it was that she was the one he had tried to like after the reveal, of course, but before the reveal he just kept going back to Ladybug.

'Cause when you love her

No matter the fight you know she's always right

And it's alright

And they say love can hurt

But seein' her smile can get you every time

Yeah, every time

Because you love her, la-la-lala-lala

Love her, yeah

Anytime that they bickered about identities or how to react and fight an akuma, Chat Noir always yielded. Sometimes he was technically right in some instances with akumas, but he always let his Lady win. Whenever she was wrong, she always apologized and listened to him, and whenever she was right, she didn’t gloat. Chat just knew, no fight was really worth it, not when he loved Ladybug as much as he did.

Chat Noir loved Ladybug for a lot longer than she even knew, because she mostly didn’t believe him. He told her fairly often in the beginning, when he had just fallen in love. As time went on he only would tell her after there was a scary he-might-lose-her accident or whenever dealt with an akuma so brilliantly that all he could do was stand and admire her. She brushed it off, because how could he love her when he only knew Ladybug, right? Everytime she brushed it off, it hurt his heart, because how could she not believe him? She was the best person he had ever met and was so kind and wonderful, how could he not fall in love with the spotted superhero? Then she would look at her kitty and smile at him, and he melted, always. Just the sight of his Lady’s smile made him the happiest man in the world.

It also worked that way after the reveal, Chat or Adrien would see Marinette smile and basically be putty at her feet. When she started smiling with love, he didn’t think that he would survive. Alya and Nino would often tease him because there were definitely times where just a small smile from Marinette could have Adrien blushing and reaching out to her.

I put my selfish ways in boxes

And shipped 'em back to where they came

Will never let it get close to bein' toxic

And I promise I’ll never walk away

Despite being very giving and often being very nice, Adrien was still an Agreste, and he was still accustomed to a certain lifestyle. As much as he worked at being selfless and giving, there were times that the spoiled rich kid selfishness slipped through the cracks. Thankfully for him, Marinette never judged him too harshly while still bringing him back down to normal, public school kid level.

Chat Noir would occasionally get jealous of the way that Ladybug got everything, the reporters, the fans, the attention. He got some, sure, but most people saw him as the sidekick, as the less important one. Sometimes, selfish thoughts of I should be getting the attention after akumas where he felt like he did good work or when she would go and do many more interviews with all the different reporters. His Lady even had a blog completely dedicated to her, and he was featured, but it was about Ladybug mostly. However, whenever he did get upset about these things, he often just talked it out with Ladybug instead of holding onto resentment and risking his feelings turning into something toxic that could affect their effectiveness in battling akumas and working together. Talking things out with his partner would always confirm just how much he would always stick by her side.

Gotta learn to let the small things go

And know it's always far from perfect

There were so, so, so many times that just a side comment from either Ladybug or Chat Noir would hit just right for the other person and they would get upset. These were often unintentional and hit them hard because it was something that hurt them behind the mask. After some silence or some tears, the pair always talked it out and walked away from the situation understanding just a little bit more of the other.

Sometimes Marinette would just get a little tired of the perfect cookie-cutter Adrien that would often present itself at school, especially as they grew older and she was finally able to talk to him as a normal person and got to know him. She understood that he had to represent the Agreste brand and be the perfect role model but that didn’t mean that he just had to be a bland boring person sitting in front of her. She knew him now, she knew that he really did have a personality and seeing him hide it away would sometimes just get to be too much and annoy her. Ironically, Marinette getting annoyed at him for this annoyed Adrien. Why should he have to conform to her specific wishes, especially when he was an Agreste and Gabriel Agreste was expecting him to act a certain way? Not to mention that if he didn’t conform to his father’s wishes he wouldn’t be allowed to go to school with Mari and his friends any longer and that was really what he wanted most. The key to a good friendship is conversation and the pair often settled these annoyances by talking through it. Marinette really just wanted Adrien to be himself, because she knew better now. Adrien just wanted to be able to stay in school. They would often compromise, with Adrien agreeing to loosen up at least a little at school which always made Marinette happy and gave him a warm feeling when he would catch her smiling at him. After the reveal, these conversations and annoyances seemed to pile up because now Marinette knew how Adrien really was more than before.

And I know that we can get emotional

But the hardest parts are always worth it

The reveal was probably one of the biggest emotional parts of the miraculous duo’s relationship. How could it not be, with finding out that they really had been in a love square with just the two of them. Of course the first person to find out was Alya. The reporter had finally put two and two together and realised she ran a blog dedicated to her best friend. Once she found out about Marinette, she started going through just who could be Chat Noir and compiled a list. She narrowed the list based on the facts that the akuma attacks would bring her. Chat Noir was always fast to the scene whenever someone at their school was akumatized, her biggest clue. The fact that the only thing that changed for Marinette was her mask and her suit, so Alya assumed that the same would be the same for Chat. Between those facts, the fact that only two people in their class had not been akumatized ever and those two people were constantly making terrible excuses whenever there was an akuma attack, Alya puzzled out just who Ladybug’s crime fighting partner was. She knew that Chat Noir was none other than Adrien Agreste.

Figuring out their identities gave Alya the perfect opportunity to play matchmaker. She enlisted the help of Nino, because one, she already knew he was Carapace and he knew she was Rena Rouge, and two, Nino was Adrien’s best friend and she needed him to help get Adrien to go along with everything. When Nino heard her out about knowing the identities he started laughing, because of course the four main crime fighting superheroes of Paris were none other than himself, his girlfriend, his best friend, and his girlfriend’s best friend. He had often called their group “The Core Four” and now it rang even truer.

Alya decided that the best way for this reveal to be pulled off was for Ladybug to let the two of them keep their miraculous after a fight. This proved to be a little difficult but with how many akumas kept popping up that were getting stronger and stronger Ladybug did eventually agree. After securing hers and Nino’s miraculous, Alya quickly set up a blind date. This blind date, of course, was for her best friends but Marinette and Adrien didn’t know that. She set them up on the date and they were having a fun time after getting over the original awkwardness of a blind date, because they had just decided that they would eat as friends for now. They were in a smaller, secluded restaurant that not many people knew about which would help Alya achieve the next part of her plan.

Once the two had mostly finished their meals, Rena Rouge and Carapace ran into the restaurant looking directly at the two of them and announcing that Ladybug and Chat Noir were needed, quickly, and they were going to meet on the top of the building. Marinette immediately excused herself to the bathroom, as did Adrien and nearly a minute later Ladybug and Chat Noir were on the roof waiting for the other pair of superheroes.

On the roof there was a blanket set out with dessert and candles and it all seemed very romantic and the main superhero pair were extremely confused. Once Carapace and Rena Rouge had jumped to the roof of the building the questions started. Rena just shook her head, laughing, because of course these two hadn’t even realised what they just did. She looked to Carapace and commented on just how fast that Ladybug and Chat Noir had arrived at the rooftop when all they had done so far was walked into a restaurant where Adrien and Marinette were eating  looking for the cat and bug superheroes. With that, Chat and his Lady had started stuttering and making excuses before Rena looked at them and insisted that she knew and that they needed to tell each other.

Ladybug and Chat Noir looked between each other and their teammates before Ladybug sighed and sat down on the blanket in front of the dessert, understanding that this was what had to happen now. Gesturing to Chat to sit down she said bye to Nino and Alya watching Chat’s shocked face at learning who Carapace and Rena Rouge were underneath their masks. He sat down in front of his Lady, nervous about what was swiftly approaching.

Ladybug quickly started freaking out, because she was sure that Chat wouldn’t like her as much as her civilian self versus as Ladybug and that he would hate who she was. Chat quickly dispelled her worries by once again telling her he loved her, no matter who she was. In a sign of good faith towards her, he suggested that instead of revealing themselves one at a time that they would both release their transformations and look at each other on the count of three.

Three seconds. Those three seconds were the longest three seconds they would ever experience, full of anxiety, anticipation, fear, and excitement. They were going to know who each other were, in three seconds. Ladybug knew that this was for sure the hardest moment of her life so far, because having her two identities combine was overwhelming.

Three.

Two.

One.

With a flash of pink and green, their transformations dropped and the two teenagers looked up at each other sitting across their dessert. Once the realisation set in, they were laughing, they were crying, they were joking, and they were smiling. Marinette questioned his true love for Ladybug and how that stood now, because he had been so adamant she had started to believe it. He moved to sit next to her and grabbed her hands, reassuring her that the combination of Ladybug with Marinette made him fall deeper in love with her. Marinette looked at him like he was mental, before admitting that she had always had a crush on Adrien and asking him if he would ever like to go on a real date sometime, shocking him as well as herself. He easily agreed and then looked at her, laughing. Joking with her about their crazy love square that they had ended up in because of the whole secret identities thing.

They spent most of that night cuddling together in the candlelight, before separating with a promise of that real date the next day.

'Cause when you love her

No matter the fight you know she's always right

And that's alright

And they say love can hurt

But seein' her smile will get you every time

Yeah, every time

Because you love her, la-la-lala-lala

Love her, yeah

Adrien married Marinette once they had gotten older. He knew that he had to, because he was just so in love with her. He knew that no matter their struggles or their little speed bumps that they had to face, they were perfect for each other; he knew that they were soulmates. So they did what soulmates do, stay together forever, because every struggle was worth it, just to be with her and make his new wife, Marinette Agreste, smile.

[argotmagazine-blog]

Dancing On My Own

(Silvia...)

Yes, Mickey?

(How do you call your loverboy?)

Come 'ere loverboy!

(And if he doesn't answer?) Oh, loverboy!

(And if he STILL doesn't answer?) I simply say…

I was six years old the first time I draped my father’s after-shower wrap around my waist and lip-synched for my life. In the living room of my family’s single story, ranch style home in Walnut Creek, California, I performed to “Love is Strange.” The audience, comprised of my father, stepmother, and brother, laughed hysterically at my hijinks – oh how silly to see a boy wearing a skirt and singing the woman’s part of a song! At literally the same time RuPaul was gaining notoriety working the Atlanta Circuit Parties, I, at only six years old, was slaying the Bay Area suburb living room scene and living for it, Mama!

A year later, I performed live in an oversized sweatshirt dress and leg warmers on a leather ottoman stage. Another number from this genderfuck child prodigy that resonated with my home audience was my original drag parody based on a hit Crystal Gayle song “Donuts Make My Brown Eyes Blue.” Again, I was rewarded with laughter and applause. My family truly loved me, and I was beginning to know that I was born to be a performer.

Cut to a few years later: it was a dress-up day at school for Halloween and I had no idea what to be. My stepmother came in for the heroic rescue with a waist length straight brown wig, a bandanna, a peasant skirt, and a liberal application of lipstick and eyeshadow. I looked in the mirror and instantly fell in love with myself in what would now be considered a very problematic “fortune teller” Halloween look. I can’t even imagine the accent I spoke with. Suffice it to say, if repeated today that ensemble would most definitely result in a cancel culture call out.

Year by year, I learned that I was definitely different. As a “creative” child, I was prone to talking out of turn and disrupting the class. I did not know what “being gay” was, and I had certainly never seen an “out” gay person that I knew of. The closest thing to a drag queen I knew was my Grandmother, Beatrice. She was a Portuguese powerhouse that lived larger than life in an assortment of caftans, wigs, fur coats, costume jewels, fire red fingernails, and her ever-present cocktail of choice in her hand. I lovingly called her world’s cheapest screwdriver the “Popov and Donald” after its two main ingredients: Popov Vodka and Donald Duck orange juice. The constant, comforting refrain of clinking and tinkling ice surrounded her as she stirred it steadily with her nicotine stained index finger. With parents who blasted Elton John, Neil Diamond, Bette Midler, Barry Manilow, and let’s not forget the beginning of this story, the soundtrack to “Dirty Dancing” when I was but six years old, it would seem as if the Universe was surrounding me with the perfect, magical, organic tools I would need to live my best faggotty life. Yet, In the summer of fourth grade, it all coalesced into understanding that I was truly different. Not just a creative type but there was something else, something more that separated me from the rest of the kids around me. The person who taught me this was Mr. M.

Mr. M. was my summer school theater teacher. When I saw him, I could just tell that he had the same thing that I had. That thing – the one that made me different – it was in him too. I immediately recognized it, and it was beautiful, and it made me feel so good that I wasn’t alone. It was the first time that I truly could see that there were actually adults like me too. Mr. M. had created a 4th through 6th grade summer-stock follies masterpiece that combined the story of Rapunzel with the music from Hair. It was everything my queer little heart desired rolled into a masterpiece for the stage, dusted in fairytale glitter, and laid out like a prize before me. I was cast in the dream role I could have never imagined I needed. My character was “Jacques,” Rapunzel’s best friend, confidant, and (though unspoken) very, very flamboyantly gay hairdresser. I was obviously the comedic relief – and I knew that at the time – but I didn’t care. I loved the role and despite having no idea what camp meant at the time (and certainly wouldn’t have cared if I did). I knew that this part had been created just for me, to let me shine, and I was not going to let Mr. M. down.

My stepmom stepped up like a hero again and made me look like everything that a 10-year-old, fabulous hairdresser should look like. Remember that waist length wig from my fortune teller look? Well she lovingly cut off a little 6 inch snip and braided it into the back of my big ass, blown out hair. I didn’t know or care that this was being “gay,” but I knew that I had never in my life felt more right.

In what will be a surprise to no one, I can humbly confirm that I stole the show. The audience loved me, seeing this fabulous child, living his truth, loving himself and not being afraid to shine in all his homo-glory in only the fourth grade? I was years ahead of the world and it felt amazing. In fact, before the show, we had joked in my house about the mannerisms of being gay, the flouncy walk, the limp wrists, the sassy lisp. I genuinely loved them all so much that after the performance, I began to adopt these affectations officially into my daily life, from lisping from the breakfast table: “Plleathe path the theareal” to my bedtime prayers, “in Jethus name we pray, amen”.

And that’s the moment. The moment where things changed.

“Sit down here next to me,” my father asked as he patted the bed politely. He called in my stepmother. “We should probably talk.”

After everyone assembled, my father asked thoughtfully “Do you know what homosexuality is?”

“No,” I responded quietly. I could tell immediately from his tone that 1) I was whatever that thing was and 2) that it was absolutely not okay.

“Well, it’s when two men do the things together that only a man and a woman are supposed to do together,” he lectured me. “And it is very wrong. You know how you played that part in the play, and how you have been walking and talking that way since? That’s not okay anymore. That’s how these homosexuals really act. It’s okay to act like them and laugh at them as a joke, like in the play. But it’s completely unacceptable to do those things in real life. In fact, men who do those things, well, the Bible says that they are going to hell. Do you want to go to hell?”

I did not want to go to hell. I slowly shook my head turning red, the furnace of shame stoked hot inside me.

“Good,” he said finally. “Then it’s time to stop acting like that. Back to being normal from now on.” He said goodnight, kissed me on the forehead, clicked off my bedroom light and shut the door behind him.

10…9…8… I counted down in my head. When I got to one, I thought Okay, he can’t be by the door anymore. That’s when the tears started flowing.

I still didn’t truly understand what being a homosexual was, but now I knew that I could never be one. Not only would it upset my father, but Jesus too? Well, that was just too much pressure. I was going into the fifth grade and the one thing I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt was that I did not, under any circumstances, want to go to hell.

My life was never the same from that moment on. As a child, I certainly never saw a dress or wig again. I spent the next twenty-five years pretending that I was not who I knew I was inside, trying my best to hide the traits as I got older but still knowing I had a funny voice and walk. Within a few years, I knew deep, deep inside that I was definitively the very thing I had been mandated not to be. I hid it further by marrying a woman and pretending even harder for many years that I was just a regular ol’ straight guy, just bein’ straight and actin’ straight and livin’ my best straight life. You know, lying.

I dated only women in my adolescence and finally, at age 18, I started dating my best friend. I guess we “fell in love,” though it was honestly more a relationship born of co-dependence, self-preservation, and convenience - and married at 21. For fourteen years I “played house.” To be honest, it wasn’t terrible. I had married my best friend and technically she knew I was gay as she had actually been the first and only person I had come out to up to that point. We pretended like that conversation had never happened. I thought I did an amazing job playing this role of dedicated straight husband contrary to many of the reviews on my role when I finally came out.

Everyday was a mental battle of epic proportions. Imagine a voice in your mind that has one job to do all day every day, and that job is to remind you that you are living a complete lie. I struggled with mental health issues, doing everything I could to manifest destructive patterns and catastrophes so that I could distract myself from my terrifying inner demons. As each year passed, the voice got louder and more distracting. But now I was in too deep. What would even be the value in listening to the voice and taking action? Destroying my marriage, my life and for what? I didn’t even know if what was on the other side would be better.At least I was safe in my cocoon as long as I played the part.

Finally, I couldn’t take it anymore. I wasn’t prepared to come out, but I also knew I couldn’t keep ignoring the voice the way I had been. I just needed something to quiet the voice. At the same time, I was also looking for a new fitness regime to help get my weight under control. When I drove by Padme Yoga in Sacramento, CA on a drizzly October afternoon, it seemed like kismet. Yoga could help me with my fitness, but I had also heard lots of friends talk about how much it helped them quiet their minds. Perfect! I signed up for my first yoga class, and though I was scared shitless, I actually showed up. At the end of the class, the instructor came up to me and asked me if I enjoyed the class, which I told her I did. Then she said “Come back tomorrow, this practice will change your life.” So I did. And the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that.

The weight came off of my waist and my thighs, but there was a different kind of weight coming off of my shoulders as well. I felt happier and more joyful. People seemed to want to be around me more and I felt more authentic. I just kept showing up and my teacher from that first class was right - my life was changing. Strangely enough, the voice about my hidden sexuality was a bit quieter but I had new voices as well - ones telling me that I was perfect the way I was in that moment and that in or out of the closet, I was exactly where I was supposed to be. I began to feel this love for myself I had not felt in a very long time; not because I was skinny or more energetic, but because I was doing exactly what I needed for myself.

One Friday evening in May 2014, as I laid in pigeon pose I began to sob. People say they “ugly cry,” well I beautifully cried as years of self hate, sadness, anger, frustration, lies, manipulation, and abuse just flowed from my eyes and onto my mat. 75 minutes later, I knew I was ready. I went home, and for the first time, I let my inner knowing speak for me. I came out, for good.

The journey since has not been easy, but it has been a necessary one and I have learned so much. The best part is, I have never once been alone since. Remember that little boy, the one who went to bed that night crying, scared, and afraid that he would never be the person he was meant to be? Well amazingly enough, he woke up the moment I stepped off my yoga mat that evening. He has been by my side ever since. In fact, he is sitting right here next to me as I write this, wearing his favorite gown, loving himself, feeling beautiful and accepted. He calmly, lovingly reminds me that neither of us needs ever feel alone again.

Xavier Bettencourt is a writer and comedian currently residing in Sacramento, CA. Known for his authentic and humorous storytelling voice and unique point of view, Xavier digs deep to speak his truth and tirelessly encourages others to do the same. Follow him on Instagram for more: @thecomedybear.

[lore-a-lie]

Chapter 2: I Spit on Your Grave Expectations

Daily Life

Kaede wasn’t sure what to expect after that argument, but when she got to the dining hall the next day after washing the crust from her face and the redness from her eyes it was clear things had only gotten worse. Kaito was yelling at Angie about something and their group of friends was visibly split in two, the sets standing on opposite sides of the hall, but that wasn’t what concerned her the most. Kibo was.

He was pink now. Every bit of his previous gentle cyan lighting was gone, leaving only the nearly toxic looking magenta glow in its place. Even the glare he gave her was an intense pink rather than his previous desaturated blue, which shook her for reasons she couldn’t explain beyond feeling “wrong”.

And as around his neck, catching the light despite the shadows there, was Miu’s layered necklace he salvaged the night before, clean and repaired, she didn’t need to wonder why he did. That was a fair enough warning for what this was about.

Kaede wasn’t a good enough leader for them so Angie wanted to take over her responsibilities.

And had Miu not asked this of me I might have been fine with going along with that. But she did, as our friend, so I can’t give up quite yet. Right? Or did Miu just make another mistake putting her faith in me?

The way the room was divided the two new “groups” was pretty clear. Those in support of Angie’s new leadership were Kibo, Tenko, Tsumugi, Kirumi, and Gonta. Her friends that wanted to keep supporting Kaede’s own attempts to protect them were Kokichi, Kiyo, and Kaito’s trio of him, Ryoma, and Maki. (Little wonder this would happen the day I was the last to arrive huh? Not that I’d blame anyone here.)

“Kaito, please calm down! Let’s just try to talk about this okay? “This” is about how I’ve been leading everyone so far right? Just tell me what’s going on.”

“Atua doesn’t believe you’ve been doing a good job at keeping everyone safe. You are good at bringing us together, but only in ways that have better enabled us to turn on each other. He doesn’t feel only Monokuma’s motives are at fault for that, as you haven’t tried limiting the means for our betrayals. And so He told me Angie should be the one to lead us now, and to make rules to help protect everyone here! We can’t keep hoping for your dangerous dream of going back outside Kaede, we’ve lost enough of us.”

“And that’s why I’m calling bullshit! How long do you honestly think we could stay here?! Have you seen where our food’s been coming from? Any medical facilities, or even a goddamn nurse’s office?! We can’t trust anything here to keep us alive in the long term you idiot!” Kaito was still furious, for good reason.

He should know more about the dangers of being stuck somewhere without any means of protecting or repairing the resources everyone will be relying on than anyone else here, given his talent and experience. And yet Angie and her supporters kept completely ignoring his warnings and concerns.

“But Atua says it’s safe here, and it’s not like we have any better options. Without a safer alternative it’s plain to see this is the best course of action we can be taking, isn’t it?” (No it isn’t. I need to step in.)

“Tsumugi weren’t you the one to warn me to be wary of cults and con artists? Because it’s sounding like you should be taking your own advice right now you know, you can’t just pretend Kaito’s wrong here.”

“How could she? She and Angie were both Con Artists already aren’t they?” Kokichi mocked, looking for all to see like a cat playing with a canary as both girls glared at him for the pun. (But he’s not really okay with what’s happening here is he? This is too dangerous to allow things to keep going on for long, right?)

“Who are you calling a cult?! We are-” Tenko’s yelling was cut off by a familiar chorus of “Rise and Shine, Ursine”, minus the loudest and deepest voice in their tune. The set of three cubs and their father stood in the middle of the room.

“Hello~ my children! My, my, aren’t you all just chomping at the bit today? At least you’ve got a lot of energy for your exploring later, haven’t you?” The three little cubs kept looking between themselves as their father talked, as if communicating amongst each other while he was distracted talking to the class. “And boy do I have some presents for you~ A wonderful set of rewards for you all surviving so far, won’t that be fun? Come on kids, show them their fantabulous new prizes!”

“No.” The monotone syllable got everyone’s attention, all eyes on the half green bear and his siblings.

“... What? Sorry, must have some stuffing in my belly button, it sounded like you said-”

“Not happening pops. Why should we be listenin’ to ya anymore huh?”

“What do you think you’re playing at kiddo?” Monokuma wasn’t amused by his tiger-striped son’s reply.

“W-we talked about things after the last trial! W-we keep dying and no one cares at all but us! S-so… So we won’t do this anymore! We have the Exisals, so we’ll just do things our way from now on daddy!”

“Though this all bein’ said we prolly should hand out these little doohickies shouldn’t we? But let’s try ta change things up! No more o’ this givin’ you the things and then sit back while you bumbling bastards try to sort their puzzles out business! Each o’ us will keep the keys we got as youse guys figure out where to you’ll need to take us. Will we be helpful? Annoying? Try to lead you astray? Who fuckin’ gives a damn!”

“... This is fine. I mean it’s good you kids are taking some initiative right? This is a good thing for a father to witness, this isn’t a cute lil’ coup d'etat by my Ultimate Lil’ Monokubs or anything, nope not at all.”  

Despite saying that Monokuma was somewhat dazed as he mumbled something about going back home to his cubs who do still like him, sounding somewhat delusional given they’re all here. As he wandered off the pink cub- Monophanie, took out three items to pass out to her remaining brothers. She kept the literal pixelated key for herself, Monosuke was given the ninja scroll, leaving Monodam with the golden hammer. But after doing this the cubs looked at a loss over what they were meant to do next.

“So… Now, what Monosuke? Do we just split up?”

“Uhh… Yeah, sure why not? I don’t wanna to spend any more time with a certain murderer I could mention anyways.” Monosuke gave Monodam a pointed glare at that, but Monophanie’s flailing about trying to deny what he did was more of a response than Monodam’s own stoic stare.

“Then-Let’s-All-Get-Along-With-The-Bastards! Let’s-All-Be-Friends-Now, No-Need-For-Killing-Games!”

“WHAT?! Not a fuckin’ chance, the Killing Game’s the most fun we’ve had! Why should we give it up?”

“I don’t know, making friends could be nice, and no more gross gory bodies to deal with. Let’s give it a try at least, we can always change our minds later right?”

“Fuck that! You two can go play house, or class, or whateva the fuck this shit is but I’m out. If any of yous guys want to use my item I’ll be outside to see if ya can get me ta put it where it needs to go, capisce?” And with that, the bespectacled bear squeakily stormed out the door to the porch as the humans watching things unfold remained speechless. (I mean this is too stupid for words right now isn’t it???)

Angie was the first to break the silence as Monophanie and Monodam kept looking between themselves, their items, and everyone else. “Well we already made ourselves into two groups so this works out well, doesn’t it? Praise be to Atua and his foresight of your own changes of heart!”

“What’s an Atua?” (An excellent question, but not one you should ever ask bear. You’ll see.)

“A term stemming from Polynesian cultures that can mean “power” in a more supernatural sense, like “mana” which is quite different from the apparently common video game concept of the same name. However this typically refers to gods or spirits, in this case specifically for a presumably monotheistic entity that-”

“Atua is Atua silly! He’s all knowing and carefully watches over everyone, like a loving father!” Kiyo did not appreciate being cut off mid-lecture by Angie’s attempt to recruit another member to her cause, but he did at least capture Monodam’s attention.

“Apparently common”? Has he not played any games with it before? That’s weird. I wonder if this means Himiko told him about that before she… When they talked before the show. She knew a lot about that sort of thing, so it might have been what helped her and Angie bond too.

“Angie told Gonta Atua was like Grandma, Atua change?”

“Yup-yup! Atua changes to whatever He feels will help those He cares for best after all!”

“That-Sounds-Rather-Unreliable. And-Convenient-If-You-Are-Making-Him-Up, To-Claim-He-Is-Where Ever-You-Say-He-Is. How-”

“It’s is not the place of mortals to question Him or His divine grace you know?” (And so hails the return of Angie’s scary face, oh joy. If there is a God why do I need to be the one to put up with this right now?)

“No-I-Did-Not. But-Father-Claimed-He-Was-Our-God-Too-And-Look-At-Him-Now. We-Don’t-Need-Yours, Right-Monophanie?”

“Hmm, but Daddy was lying about that wasn’t he? Maybe this “God” is different. Why not give it a try?”

“I-Do-Not-Want-To. It-Doesn’t-Seem-To-Be-Helping-Others-To-Get-Along, Just-Making-Them-Fight.”

“Religion has been known to do both, faith can be quite the terrifying thing when taken to extremes. Particularly those that leave no room for compromise or allow themselves to mix with their neighbors. Among many pantheons, it’s common to find deities that in fact originated somewhere else and became incorporated over time to help pacify and better unite with other cultures.” (Nice trivia Kiyo, but no one cares.)

“Why not you come with us then Monodam, while Monophanie can go with Angie’s? Are you going to tell us where your item belongs? I don’t think I’ve seen anything for it before.”

“I-Don’t-Think-”

“I like that plan! Let’s go!”

Monophanie was quick to leave with Angie’s cult, which upset the remaining bear. If his goal was staying as a group he was proving pretty bad at it with how eager his siblings were to avoid him, given his involvement with Monokid’s death and their own personalities. But seeing Kaede’s expectant face he lit back up again, seeing them as other people he could try to “get along with” instead of his siblings.

“That’s-Because-You-Haven’t-Yet! It-Is-Up-Stairs-With-The-New-Labs, I-Will-Show-You!”

Alas, he forgot the stairs he was thinking of were still locked behind the supposed mural of the pixelated door that required Monophanie’s key to open, so Kaede had to hurry after Angie to see about that first.

After some negotiations between the two it was agreed that since the Magic Key had the most obvious use and Monodam’s item would be used in the area it unlocked Angie’s group would be headed outside to solve Monosuke’s Ninja Scroll puzzle instead.

Monophanie was rather relieved this would mean she wouldn’t need to go to the fourth floor yet and instead would get her more time alone with Monosuke, which in hindsight should have been a warning.

Following Monodam soon proved to be a mistake. Not an avoidable one, and not one that was his fault in particular, but it felt like a mistake nonetheless. The fourth floor lived up to the creepier associations with a number a bit too well in Kaede’s opinion. And that’s only speaking from the top of the stairs, they hadn’t even been to any rooms yet. (AND I DON’T WANT TO. AT ALL. WHY IS IT SO SPOOKY?! ... Kiyo’s lab is here isn’t it? It’s gotta be here with this atmosphere and everything, it suits him way too well. Welp.)

Kiyo apparently assumed the same thing as he gravitated to a set of traditional shoji style doors, unlike all the others in the school. Kokichi quickly followed after him while Kaito stayed where he was, sweating and trying not to look at anything around him.

Ryoma was rather amused by this as he tried leading his friend down the halls but given the scream that could not have been from Maki and Kaito dashing back and practically flying back down the stairs that was clearly a lost cause. It didn’t stop an annoyed Maki from following after him to literally drag him back by the arm though, as if in payback for all the times he practically did the same thing for her.

“C’mon Maki Roll, we don’t need this many people here right?! I can go see about the Ninja Scroll or something-” Kaito tried to argue, but she was still having none of his excuses.

“Not a chance. I thought a “manly” guy like you is supposed to be brave, aren’t you?”

“W-well… I mean… T-that’s why it’s good for you and Ryoma to do this alone! It’s-”

“Better for you to face your cowardice here then. You are the only one with a problem, idiot.” Maki challenged with an air of finality that seemed to shut Kaito up for the most part. Minus some nervous keening noises Kaede could hear as he was being pulled away.

Kaede chose not to draw attention to herself and how she proved he really wasn’t the "only one with a problem" and instead made her way with Monodam down the hall to a set of three doors.

She opened the first to see what was in it, only to let out a shriek of her own and slam it shut again upon seeing what she would swear was a familiar looking bear-shaped ghost floating inside. As Monodam grabbed her hand and made a dash back to the anthropology lab she wasn't the only one.

Had she not been so frazzled by everything Kaede probably would have found the confused looks on Kokichi and Kiyo’s faces hilarious, at least before Kokichi started to laugh at her own expression instead.

“... Might I inquire to what exactly that was about? If you’ll pardon my use of the phrase, you look like you’ve seen a gho-” Kiyo tried to ask, choosing to have marginally more tact than the local liar. If only his choice of words had been better.

“Don’t. Say it. Something was in one of those side rooms, honest!” Kaede tried to explain as convincingly as she could, but with everything going on and only the furiously nodding Monodam in her defense that wasn't saying much.

“Indeed, It-Was-Monotaro! But-Different-Than-He-Used-To-Be!”

“ Please tell me- you’re trying to say- you think you say some ghost- of a robotic teddy bear , Kaede. Because this is fucking priceless, you should see your face right now!” Kokichi was barely able to pause his laughter enough to speak, despite the scolding side look Kiyo was giving him for his teasing. (Don’t you fucking pretend I don’t see you smirking under that mask Kiyo! You’re enjoying this too aren’t you?!)

“S-shut up! You can go look for yourself then if you don’t believe me.”

“And leave you and Kiyo in his spooooky lab alone together? Ooookie-dokie! You two have fun~” (... Well fuck. Why couldn’t it be a normal museum? I can handle those! Everything here feels wrong. How many stories does this lab even have?!... Is this just for a visual pun?)

“I hardly see what you’re talking about, the setup they have here is magnificent. I haven’t the foggiest idea where on earth they could have found some of these works, I never expected I’d be able to so much as see them much less be in their presence during my lifetime.” (THAT PROVES IT’S CREEPY DAMNIT!)

As Kokichi stepped out to investigate Kaede’s “ghost bear” it was almost funny to see Kiyo flit about the room like he was a kid in a candy store. Almost. Though hearing him ramble about how there was a book with “spells” written by the sole survivor of a village, fueled by the fury behind the girl’s pen as she wrote, the incredibly heavy dog statue and cage meant for a séance from it, and a genuine katana did nothing to ease Kaede’s nerves at all. Not that he noticed in his sheer delight at everything around him.

Kokichi really should have expected to find her curled up into a ball like this, sitting on one of the seats near the bookshelves with her head on her knees, when he got back.

“Uhh, Kiyo I think you broke her. Great, now who’s gonna save us from Angie’s crazy cultists?! They even have Kirumi, we can’t compete with that! All we have is an idiot and scary people! WE’RE DOOOOMED!” Kokichi faux-sobbed with his crocodile tears again as Kiyo sighed.

“Technically we do also have one of the less incompetent and supposedly benevolent of Monokuma’s progeny, but you make a fair assessment. They also have Gonta and Tenko among them, which is also concerning as both are as strong as they are gullible I fear. Unless Kaede is back with us now of course?”

“Darn you all to heck, you horrible, horrible people” Came Kaede’s deadpanned reply, muffled by her body.

“Nope! Still broken, she can’t even curse now.”

“... Hmm, I see. Very well then, speaking of curses-” Kiyo’s words certainly got Kaede back on her feet.

“NO! NO MORE CURSES. I HEARD ENOUGH TODAY.” Too bad Kaede’s pointer finger in his face didn’t have its intended effect, as he was still more amused than anything else. She chalked it up to the height thing.

“There, that appears to have done the trick. My apologies for not seeing sooner how distressed you were becoming, I got rather overzealous you could say.” (Or you could say you were a dick, you jerk!)

“That-Is-Good-” Monodam caught the enraged glare Kaede gave him and backpedaled. “I-Mean-Not-Being-Insensitive-To-Your-Friends, That-Is-Bad. But-That-Enjoying-Your-Lab-Is-Good! Each-Was-Tailor-Made-For-You-Bastards-After-All.”

“Is that more or less creepy to hear than everything else here?” (LESS . INFINITELY LESS. Er-waitaminute.)

That did explain the selection of music in her own lab, any songs she saw that Kaede didn’t immediately recognize she still had a vague knowledge of. Like she heard of it and just hadn’t listened to them yet.

And it did indicate they were all in this place for a specific reason, to be singled out like this. But not why or what the reasoning behind this could be for. (I mean even if it looks like a prison school only maybe a handful of us seem like we’d actually belong in one, and if Kirumi’s the prime minister in all but title she shouldn’t fit. Unless she was used as a scapegoat for something? Would she remember that?)

“If such efforts were made to study and accommodate us why were we made to kill each other then? This is rather extreme for a mere social experiment, wouldn’t you say?” Kiyo asked, looking over some of his displays as he did.

“I-Can’t-Tell-You-That. Sorry. I-Could-Tell-You-Other-Things-But-Only-For-The-Killing-Game-Itself, Not Where-You-Bastards-Are. And-As-The-Killings-Should-End-Now-That-Doesn’t-Matter-Anymore.”

“I dunno~ If you have a motive for us later it could make you Monokuma wannabes at least a little useful. Might make us like you a little bit. So spill it, any other “special rules” we didn’t know about?” Kokichi said, putting the bear in something between a hold and a hug.

“Umm… There-Is-The-Tiebreaker-Rule? If-Multiple-People-Tie-For-Having-The-Most-Votes-And-The- Blackened-Is-One-Of-Them-Then-It-Counts-And-The-Spotless-Would-Be-Safe-From-Execution. It-Even- Works-With-Everyone-Only-Having-One-Vote, So-If-You-All-Agreed-To-Vote-For-Yourselves-You’d-Win!”

“I hardly believe the blackened would ever allow things to turn out in such a way. They’d simply need to lie and vote for anyone else to ensure their own survival would be guaranteed, yes?”

Monodam began bashfully poking his paws together at Kiyo's point, almost like he thought his way would have really worked. He also got a bit nervous when Kokichi brought up another motive appearing, so even without their father’s “game” apparently his cubs have something in store for them all later anyway.

When Kaede was feeling marginally better she made another attempt at looking for where Monodam’s hammer was meant to be used. Kokichi confirmed the three side doors were empty, denying seeing any ghosts or ghouls with a snicker, as he and Kiyo chose to keep her company. (To see me cry again?! Jerks.)

Monodam was trying to not so subtly lead them back towards the three doors, but instead the group went to see about Kaito’s group in the last room. Well, Kiyo and Kokichi did, as Kaede turned around and ran right back to Monodam upon seeing the blood-red hallway, much to Kokichi’s annoyance.

“Seriously Kaede?! Come on you scaredy cat get back here, we have work to do!” Kokichi called after her.

“We hardly need her for this. As Monodam is indicating this isn’t where his item needs to go why don’t we leave that to her for now? I strongly doubt this will be getting any easier on her mind quite yet.”

“It’s the principle of it! Why should we go somewhere when our “leader” won’t?! Kaede come baaack~”

Kiyo ignored Kokichi’s attempt to drag Kaede back and briefly continued along the hallway that supposedly Kaito was capable of going through, before walking back looking like he found something particularly amusing in the hallway ahead. Kaede didn’t have too long to wonder what sort of horrible thing this was foreshadowing as Kokichi pushed her onwards like she was stubborn packhorse stuck by a river.

The series of Jizo statues, decapitated and otherwise, certainly explained what Kiyo thought was so damn funny, but Kokichi and Kaede were less appreciative of the “joke” as the push shifted into more of a cling. As she tried going back again, Kokichi spun on his heel with the force behind her, but shifted their momentum to shoving her forwards instead. While the two made their mad sprint past the 8 figures Kiyo calmy trailed behind them, pausing to examine the statues and the Torii sitting across the way.

Kaede nearly ran into Kaito in her run to get anywhere but the eerie rotting red hallways around her, who she could not be more grateful to see. Since she was still soon followed by Kokichi Kaito wouldn’t be able to say the same, but since he finally got the hug he asked for before he was certainly not complaining.

“Hey there, you okay?” (NO. I have never been good at test of courage type stuff! I never want to come here again. EVER. At least the hallway here looks normal again? Is that another lab? Are we done yet?!)

As that isn’t best to admit Kaede tried salvaging what she could of this situation. “Y-yeah, it’s just a bit too… Spooky for me, you know? With… The gross wallpaper, and stuff on the ceiling, and the lighting-”

“And Kiyo with his sadistic horror fetish!” Kokichi’s voice chimed in behind her.

“And Kiyo with his- Hey wait no, you stay out of this! You made me go through there!”

“Right into Kaito’s waiting arms! You better not let Maki catch the two of you like this~”

“That could prove most troublesome, "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned". And who knows what a slighted assassin may do should her fickle feelings sour.” (Do you really have to say stuff like that here Kiyo?!... Of course you do, stupid question. Please don’t kill me Maki.)

“That’s not funny you two, knock it off!” Kaito scolded, giving both of the boys a firm look as if they all didn’t know that push come to shove either could leave him a terrified mess. “You’re here for Angie’s lab right? It’s open and everything so get move on with it. Though unlike the others this one does have locks, which might cause issues later. No idea where the keys for it are yet since we couldn’t find any inside.”

The high ceilings were weird to see be continued from the hallways around it, but the contrasting tone of the normal white fluorescent lighting was a welcome relief. At least Angie wouldn’t need to worry about art supplies or areas for her work to dry anymore, she could even probably hang stuff from the exposed beams if she had to free up floor space.

Having two different types of doors was another odd detail, considering both in Kiyo’s lab matched. But not all of the light fixtures matched either so maybe this was a preference of Angie’s, as she wasn’t here to give them any input beyond what could be seen. No Flashback Lights were in here at least, just Maki and Ryoma looking around the large workspace.

… Which meant it was likely for the best to leave and go see what Monodam was so intent on. Oh, joy.

Kaede managed to get through the disturbing trek faster this time, at a brisk walk while trying not to look around herself too much, but she had stubbed her foot on one of the Jizo heads lying on the floor in her hurry. (And now we know those things are heavy, even though they’re round it barely budged. OWWW!)

Kaito at least was with her this time, which made for much more pleasant company as he wasn’t faring much better than she was as far as nerves were concerned in these hopefully not-so-haunted hallways. She thought it for the best to not point out other rooms on this floor might not be able to have the title. It was getting easier to get used to this now at least, which was little comfort but a comfort nonetheless.

Monodam was sitting on the floor pulling at his feet with his paws until he saw them return, quick to get to his feet and pull them towards the painted glass at the end of the hallway. He nearly threw his hammer at them trying to “hint” to them how exactly they were meant to solve this “riddle”.

Pushy little brat isn’t he? Cuter than the yellow one at least, since he is trying to make himself useful. Sibling murder notwithstanding of course.

Kaito did what he wanted though, and through the shattered glass another hallway could be seen. Still a creepy hallway in its own way, but this one looked more high tech. Tubes and exposed stainless steel floors almost feeling like they’d be better suited to a spaceship than a school.

The door they found at the end had a light with the words “Computer Room” above it, and when they approached the unusual locks sprang to life to open for them. (Must be motion activated or something then, weird to see here.)

This room was massive, nearly if not as big as the labs on this floor were already, and had it not been called the “Computer Room” already Kaede wouldn’t have known what to make of the large cube in the center of the space, surrounded by monitors. (Right, technically computers are those tower things, not the screens aren’t they? But I’ve never seen one this big! I didn’t even know cables came in that size.)

Kaito let out a low whistle as he took everything in and Monodam explained this was for the latest incarnation of the “Neo-World Program”, a simulated world people could enter if they wanted to. (Miu probably would have had a field day with this thing if she were here… But then that could have just lead to her trying to kill someone anyway, couldn’t it? In a world where she’d know the rules better than us.)

But of more of their direct concern was the treasure chest to the left of it. One that looked just like the one with the previous Flashback Light the time before. Kaede made a beeline for it and took the precious clue to what was going on with her and her friends, putting it in her backpack for safe keeping.

She told Kaito to gather everyone on this floor and meet up later as she headed to find Angie’s group.

Best to have everyone regroup in the Dining Hall to see what we’ll be doing with this. It’s as good a time as any to see what they’ve found so far too.

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[franklyshipping]

I Know What's Best ~ A Markiplier Ego Fanfic

Okay so i got a really kind and lovely prompt from an immensely complimentive anon and hoooooo BOI I HOPE YOU’RE ALL READY FOR SOME TEASING BECAUSE I SURE AS HELL AM NOT…..LET’S DO THIS!!!

Bim was nervous, even though mentally he knew it was silly. It was a doctor’s check-up, and it was going to be carried out by one of his friends no less?! God Bim pull yourself together, you have no reason to be nervous. None at all….and yet…..Bim sighed to himself as he sat in the small waiting room, thinking to himself. He wasn’t sure why he was nervous….he just had this strange nagging feeling in the back of his mind that something was going to happen. Bim’s brain wasn’t being very specific, which was annoying, so Bim tried to ignore the little nagging sensation. His hands fiddled in his lap as he looked around, he was surprised to see that he was the only patient waiting…..but Bim didn’t question it. He was about to sneak a peek at the clock again before one of the check-up rooms opened and a nurse came out, smiling gently as she approached him.

‘Bim Trimmer? He’s ready for you.’

Bim smiled as he stood, smoothing out his suit as he followed the woman through the door she’d come from. Bim relaxed a little at the sight of Iplier sat at his desk, and he looked up to Bim with a kind smile as he stood.

'Ah Bim, excellent. We should be good nurse.’

The nurse nodded and promptly left, shutting the door behind he with a small click, thus leaving Bim and the medical man alone in the consultation room, which also had a patient bench…..which actually looked rather comfy. Iplier stood and paced round to where Bim was stood, a wide smile on his face.

'How are you doing Bim? No pressing medical things you need me to address first?’

Bim smiled in response as he shook his head, he was already beginning to relax at Iplier’s kindly tone; and he was at the point where he was questioning what on earth he’d been so nervous about in the first place.

'No, no I’m pretty sure I’m fighting fit.’

Iplier grinned as he clapped a hand on his shoulder, and began leading Bim to the patient bench as he talked.

'That’s what I like to hear, but I’m just going to do all the basic checks to be safe. Skeletal and joint integrity, muscle response, nerve response…..’

As Bim perched on the bench he let out a small snicker, looking to Iplier with a wide grin.

'I’m not gonna pretend to know what ANY of that means.’

Iplier let out a gentle chuckle as he began slipping on his mandatory latex gloves, he grinned widely at Bim before leaning forward and pretending to whisper.

'It’s fancy wording for “check all the right shit works”. But don’t tell anyone I told you!’

Bim giggled before miming zipping his lips shut, he legs were swinging a little…..since his feet couldn’t touch the floor when he was sat on the bench but that’s not an important factor pffft Bim’s not a midget or anything. Said man had by this point taken his shoes off and tentatively laid himself on the bench…..and it was in fact immensely comfy. As Iplier tested his stethoscope on his own chest he flicked his eyes to Bim.

'I’m gonna need you topless too.’

Bim immediately grinned wider as he shot the doctor an exaggerated expression of flirtatiousness, whilst also placing his hand on his chest; his eyes narrowed seductively.

'Why doctor…..’

Iplier couldn’t help but snigger as he sent Bim a wink, before rolling his eyes and speaking through small chuckles.

'Belieheve me, ihif that was going to behe the case I would have ahat least dimmed the lights. I have some class…..’

Bim giggled again lightly as he stripped off his jacket, neck-tie and shirt, which Iplier took from him and set on his desk in a neatly folded pile. As Iplier turned back to him, he grinned widely before he fanned himself lightly whilst gesturing to Bim’s topless form.

'Oh sweet lord…..’

Bim used a hand to cover his mouth as giggles streamed from him, and his cheeks were even going a little pink at the doctor’s silliness. Iplier found himself grinning fondly at Bim’s giddy and relaxed state, a lesser known fact was that Iplier got all of his patients into this state one way or another before he actually started whatever procedure needed to be done. He always felt that a happier patient was a more relaxed patient and a more relaxed patient meant Iplier could get his job done with less awkwardness and discomfort; it was always his key aim. 

'Oho my god stohop!’

Iplier cackled gently as he came over to Bim, who had rested his arms at his sides.

'Ahalright, alright I’m done. Ohokay so first things first breathe in for me…..’

The check-up was going well, Iplier managed to check Bim's breathing capabilities and the mobility of his muscles and so far he was indeed fighting fit. Apart from a few little back strains from Warfstache working him too hard, he was doing pretty good from Iplier’s perspective. Now came for the bone and nerve checks, these were often able to be carried out relatively easily since all Iplier had to do was have a bit of a feel around. Bim meanwhile was also feeling pretty content by this point, what had he even been worried about?

'Okay I just need you to raise your arms so I can check your ribs now…..’

Bim complied as he raised his arms above his head, a small chill went down his spine as the cool air hit his ribs, but he nevertheless relaxed. Iplier leant forward and placed the tips of his fingers on either side of Bim’s ribcage, starting at the top, and he lightly pressed and rubbed at the upper bones just so he coul-

'AH! Wahait!’

Iplier very nearly jumped out of his skin at Bim’s outburst, and he immediately stopped in his rubbing for fear of having hurt him. He looked to Bim’s face and started to try and deduce how much pain he was in.

'Oh god did that hurt? What kind of pain was it? How would you place it on a scale of 1-10, 1 bein-’

’D-dohoc it’s fine! It uh….it didn’t hurt, you just surprised me that’s all…..’

Bim spoke hurriedly, immediately wanting to dissuade Iplier from thinking that he’d caused him pain…..because in this situation that was certainly not the correct diagnosis. At Bim’s words Iplier immediately relaxed…..but then his insatiable curiosity had reared its head. Iplier had spontaneously checked other areas like this and Bim hadn’t reacted so abruptly then, so what was different now? He narrowed his eyes at Bim and the latter could feel himself shrinking back a little under the doctor’s analytical gaze.

'Hm…..are you quite sure that your surprise was the only thing that prompted your reaction?’

Bim didn’t hesitate to nod, he knew that if Iplier underwent a realisation about his…..sensitivity, he would be utterly screwed. Bim’s cheeks were pink once again as he nodded….but he couldn’t keep the frantic and insistent nature of it at bay.

'Yes I swear i-it was just my s-surprise! Nothing else, honestly!’

Iplier let out a light hum as his mind worked away, his gaze took in Bim’s seemingly desperate demeanour. He knew Bim was lying…..but he couldn’t yet figure out exactly what it was that Bim was trying so hard to cover up. Hmmm…..Iplier suddenly smiled gently with his narrowed eyes, he leant forward as he spoke.

'You see Bim…..I just have this feeling that you’re lying to me…..’

Bim gulped a little as he squirmed on the bench, suddenly feeling extremely vulnerable as Iplier got closer to him…..and extended his hands back to his ribs.

'Nonono I’m not I’m not!’

'Oh really?’

Iplier’s voice was harsh and stern, making Bim’s cheeks darken as his gazed became fixed upon Iplier’s hands which were inching ever closer. In the space of a millisecond, Iplier’s fingertips were back to prodding and rubbing at his upper ribs…..and Iplier’s keen eyes were fixed on Bim. The latter couldn’t escape or hide it anymore, he yipped as frantic giggles left his lips as he looked at Iplier imploringly.

'Dohohohon’t dohohohoho ihihit!’

A wave of realisation passed through Iplier…..and the first thought that ran through his mind was the incredulousness that Bim could get any more adorable, which Iplier personally thought would have been an impossible feat for the already immensely cute man. It seems Iplier was mistaken. But now the doctor finally knew what was happening…..he was going to have a LOT of fun with his patient.

'Oh Bim! Oh how could I have been so blind to your ailment!’

Iplier spoke with dramatized woe as he moved his hands to the middle of Bim’s ribcage, where the pads of his fingers vibrated and massaged every inch of ticklish skin Bim had. Bim meanwhile was getting progressively more embarrassed and giggly as he looked at Iplier with a wide-eyed expression of apprehension.

'Wh-whahahahat dohoho yohohou mehehean?!’

Iplier was trying so hard to maintain a serious façade, and as of now he was doing quite well. He decided to stand up so he was leaning over Bim menacingly, and he relished in the nervous shiver that he managed to elicit with his movements alone. Iplier’s tone deepened as he spoke solemnly.

'I am afraid that you have a severe case……’

Iplier paused for a effect as he also paused his fingers, thus keeping Bim in jittery suspense. Then suddenly his hands shot up to scratch and scribble in the hollows of Bim’s underarms as he exclaimed.

'Of Ticklish-Liaritis!’

Bim burst into snorting cackles as his arms came slamming down, but nothing could stop the shocks and ticklish waves that Iplier’s skilled fingertips unloaded.

'NAHAHAHAHA THAHAHAT’S NAHAT AHA REHEAL IHILLNEHEHESS!’

Iplier let his eyes widen as he expelled a loud gasp, opening his mouth wide at Bim to present his strong indignance and offense…..which to Iplier’s amusement only seemed to make Bim laugh harder.

'How…..DARE you! Here I am, trying to HELP you if you please! And here you are, being silly and giggly in the middle of my procedure whilst you question my credibility as a doctor?!’

Bim could only laugh and squirm as he blushed harder at Iplier’s reprimanding, his grin was wider than it had probably ever been before as his mirth and embarrassment intermingled like butterflies in his tummy.

'IHIHIHI’M SAHAHAHARRY! PLEHEHEHEHEHEASE!’

Iplier fought back a wide smirk as he lessened up on the wiggling of his fingers, but he still kept them moving so Bim could stay encased in his little world of giggles.

'Mmmmm I guess you can be excused for your rudeness, this is clearly your affliction talking…..’

Bim giggled squeakily as he tried to hide his face in his shoulder, his breath was jittery and jumpy……and he mumbled embarrassedly.

’……hohow doho wehe fihix ihihihit?’

Iplier was taken aback…..Bim actually wanted him to continue? Iplier observed him, his rouged cheeks, his wide smile…..his flusteredness. Iplier aww'ed internally, well if Bim was enjoying himself then who was he to cut it short? Iplier’s eyes were shining as he looked down at Bim, his medical persona back in place. 

'Well…..I’m going to need to see how far it’s spread of course, to see how much of your body has been affected by it…..’

Iplier fought back a grin at Bim’s visible gulp, and yet no protest came forth. Bim only nibbled his lip and remained relatively silent, with the odd giggle slipping out. Iplier thought for a moment….until he let his eyes rest on Bim’s bare stomach.

'Perhaps your tummy would be a good place to start this investigation?’

Over the past few minutes, Bim’s clamped arms had been gradually un-tensing which allowed Iplier to now remove his hands from his hollows; not without a few skitters here and there though. Bim was yipping and giggling gently now, and in his mind he couldn’t believe this was actually happening…..well at least he now knew what he’d been nervous about. Except….perhaps the word 'nervous’’ isn’t the correct term. You see, the truth of it is….this is precisely what Bim had been hoping for; it was practically the only reason he’d agreed to the check-up. In the hopes of being tickled. Well he’d certainly got his wish, since Iplier’s fingertips were now gently tracing over his belly.

'Ohohoho gohohohosh……’

Iplier furrowed his eyebrows with mock concern, keeping up the teasing lightness so he could watch Bim squirm and giggle…..and from Iplier’s point of view it actually seemed like Bim was squirming INTO his fingertips; this was too damn precious.

'Dear oh dear, yes this is quite a serious case……my goodness you poor thing, I can’t imagine how horrid this affliction must be for you…..’

Bim’s cheeks seemed to get even hotter at Iplier’s devious words, and through his giggles he was gasping and squeaking like a mouse that had just run a marathon.

'Ohohoho my gohohohod shuhuhut uhuhuhup!’

Bim spoke in a giggly whimper, thus making Iplier harden his touch……significantly. There was no warning, not even a transition into scratches. Iplier just straight up dug his fingers into Bim’s abdominals, squeezing all over Bim’s poor tummy and even his sides; for added research. Amidst his ruthless onslaught however, Iplier’s vernacular remained perfectly nonchalant.

'I know it’s difficult to hear Bim, but I’m just in awe of how you’ve coped with it before coming to see me! Being so sensitive all the time…..it must be pure hell.’

Bim wholeheartedly agreed. This was pure hell…..and yet heaven simultaneously. He thrashed and laughed wildly as his dimples shone through from his wide, and very nearly insane, smile; whilst also trying to curl up on himself.

'FAHAHAHAHACK NAHAHAHAHAHA!!’

Iplier sighed at Bim’s hysteria, keeping up the ruthlessness by deciding to torment Bim’s belly button and waistline simultaneously. Iplier was quite proud of the fact he’d managed to keep up his stoic composure unlike Bim…..to be fair though Bim was the one being tickle-tortured so he was at a slight disadvantage. Iplier tutted a little as he spoke, all the while Bim was bucking and writhing.

'Ah yes, incoherency and loss of muscular control…..such terrible side effects…..’

Iplier decided to lessen the relentlessness, settling for tracing Bim’s belly and sides once again as Bim hastened to catch his breath and look up at his professional tormentor.

'Thihihis ihihis ehevihil!’

Iplier donned a sympathetic expression, all the while Bim giggled residually.

'I know…..I feel nothing but sympathy, I can assure you…..’

Bim resisted the urge to fling forth a retort, he knew damn well that Iplier was just being a mischievous shit. Speaking of said mischievousness…..Iplier knew that Bim probably thought he was done being ruthless, or in fact that he was done all together and that he was going to drop his façade. He was going to, very soon in fact…..but there was something he needed to do first.

'Th-thahahanks…..’

Iplier felt his heart melt at Bim’s words…..the fact that he seemed so grateful, it just made Iplier feel honoured at the fact that Bim was his friend. The doctor smiled at Bim, all the while perceiving how progressively relaxed the man became with every passing second…..and it was now. Just after Bim had spoken….this was the doctor’s cue.

'You are most welcome.’

And with that statement…..Iplier grinned. A wide, and slightly feral, grin as he suddenly launched himself at Bim and buried his face in his neck…..where he unleashed raspberry upon messy raspberry, whilst barely stopping to breathe.

'AHHHHHHH NAHAHAHAHA WHAHAHAT AHAHARE YOHOU DOHOHOING?!?!’

Bim screeched in surprise as he scrunched his shoulders and immediately started pushing at the doctor’s shoulders, which unfortunately did him no good as Iplier’s sloppy raspberry/nibbling attack continued.

'I still need a decent diagnosis!’

Iplier exclaimed as Bim wailed and cackled…..but then he screamed. For Iplier had decide to spontaneously reach behind him and squeeze the tops of his thigh muscles…..you could say that Bim noticed.

'YOHOHOHOU CAHAHAHAN’T DOHOHOHOHO TWOHOHO AHAT OHOHOHONCE!!!’

Iplier chuckled as he scratched and pinched at the, now heavily flailing, muscles all the while he messily nibbled at Bim’s ears.

'If I am to diagnose you properly, I need to carry out as much experimentation as possible!’

NOHOHOHOHO YOHOHOU DOHOHOHON’T!!!’

'Uhhh yes I dooooo!’

Iplier grinned at Bim’s protests, but was conscious of the fact that Bim’s strength to fight back was waning and the doctor certainly did not want to end up causing any real ailments to arise. Iplier started by letting up on Bim’s thighs, so that his reactions dimmed down from their hysteria gradually, and then relented on his ears and neck. Iplier did this because he was conscious of Bim’s breathing. If he had relented instantly, there would have been a lot of confusion for Bim’s lungs because of the sudden change in Bim’s body’s need for oxygen; but by doing it gradually, Iplier was allowing Bim’s lungs to get back to functioning at a steady rate by GETTING to that rate, in a less abrupt manner. He’s a doctor, he knows what’s best.

'Fuhuhuck Ihi thihihink Ihi’m dyihihing…..’

Bim gasped as he let his head fall back and rest whilst his eyes fluttered shut, his chest rose and fell slowly as his breathing rate turned to normal. Bim could still feel his legs, neck, ears and the entirety of his torso tingling from the aftermath…..Bim had never been tickled like that in his life. By god he loved it.

'Ihi can assure you Bim, that you are alive and….“fighting fit”.’

Bim felt himself smile at Iplier’s voice and at how it copied his earlier words. He opened his eyes and turned to the owner of that voice, who was in fact smiling gently himself as he observed his patient’s recovery. Bim slowly sat up and arched his back as he stretched, before looking to Iplier with a bashful expression.

'I-I know I uhm…..said it before but uh…..thanks.’

Iplier’s smile widened as Bim sat up further and swung his legs over the edge of the bench, the doctor’s eyes glimmered with new joy as Bim’s shone with his embarrassment and his residual mirth.

'Bim…..you are most welcome.’

Iplier extended his hand to Bim, who looked at it for a moment before he took it and let Iplier help him off the bench. There was silence in the room as Bim redressed himself, and smoothed himself down….particularly rubbing the tops of his legs which Iplier couldn’t help but smirk at as he sat back down at his desk. He watched as Bim turned to leave…..but then a small thought popped into his head.

'Oh Bim?’

Said man turned, curious as Iplier smiled lightly.

'Remember…..it’s important that you have medical check-ups regularly, to…..keep on top of your health.’

Bim felt his cheeks go pink again as his hands started fidgeting with one another, but he grinned and nodded.

’…..I’ll remember.’

Iplier grinned widely at him as Bim departed, with a new spring in his step, and it’s worth noting that Bim does in fact have very regular check-ups. I mean, why wouldn’t he take Iplier’s advice? After all…..he does know best.

Ohhhhhhh this was so fun to write holy heck TELL ME IF YA LIKE IT AHHHHH LUV YOUS XX