#which is whatever. I know i should stick to my guns | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 4 months ago

Text

the king of sex

pairing: javi x reader

cws/tags: p in v, m! receiving oral, unprotected sex, handcuffs, coworkers, sex as stress relief, pwp, not beta read

summary: almost no plot, literally javi is just grouchy so reader offers him sex (but handcuffs him) ... in the office... they really just kinda give up on the case at the end lmao

a/n: i like to imagine the voiceover of steve going "in case you were wondering, this is the asshole..." at the beginning of this fic

wc: 3k

You're at your wits end with Javier Peña. He's known to be (at the very least) kind of a dick. You're fairly sure it's unintentional, just his natural demeanor, but he's also made no efforts to remedy his behavior. He's an asshole because he's grumpy and he's grumpy because he's stressed. And he becomes more stressed and more grumpy and more of an asshole when you provoke him. You have the practiced self-restraint to bite back your snide remarks until he's out of earshot.

It hits you one day when he's particularly irritated as there's a huge roadblock in the case against Escobar that he can't seem to charm his way past - he's tried a wad of cash, a gun to the head, and of course, sex. He's grumbling about whatever-the-fuck when he slams his hands down on his desk with a loud, "Goddamnit!" He's lucky he works with you and not someone over 50 who would've certainly had a heart attack with how startling it was.

You could say 'no harm, no foul', but enough is enough. Javier Peña is inching his way towards 40 and needs to learn a thing or two about civil and professional behavior.

"Look, I get that you're upset right now, but it's not necessary or appropriate-"

"I don't need a lecture from you," he snaps.

"I wasn't lecturing you. I was being nice."

You were being nice, but your tone quickly takes on the bitterness that's been building inside you for weeks.

"If you were nice, you would let it go." His words are slightly muffled by the cigarette he holds between his lips.

"Are you even hearing yourself? I was being sympathetic and diplomatic. I could've said way worse things to you."

"Go ahead. Maybe I'd appreciate your honesty."

The smoke blown in your direction when he fully turns to face you is the final straw.

"Okay," you say, taking the deep breath you need to form the next string of words that leave your mouth. "Would you shut the fuck up for one fucking second?! I don't know if all the whores you fuck have been telling you that your voice is sexy but you should know that I'm tired of fucking hearing it."

"Wow, chica. You've got a mouth on you. Could be of better use but-"

"No," you cut him off with an accusatory finger pointed in his direction. "I'm not just going to sit here and twirl my hair and giggle at your sexual harrassment. Sorry if that's what you're used to."

"I don't think it's harassment since you didn't even wait to hear the full sentence. You don't even know what I was going to say."

"I don't care. You should get used to women not stroking your ego because someday soon your good looks will be gone and you'll have nothing but your shitty personality."

"So you think I'm good-looking?"

"That's what you took from that statement? It doesn't matter if you're good-looking because everything else about you is terrible."

"What do you want me to do? Cry? Grovel? Because I don't care that much about your opinion, and I'm done having this conversation."

You don't speak for the rest of the day, but you're in the office well-past daytime. You're on a time crunch, so you cooperate in silence so as not to get your asses handed to you by the ambassador or your heads put on a stick by the cartel. Sometime after everyone else has gone home - which makes Javi particularly pissed - he gets a phone call. You do not know what the person on the other line is saying, and Javi only speaks in Spanish, and says very few words before he slams the handset down so hard the phone falls off his desk.

He looks like he's about to have a psychotic break when he notices that the phone is broken.

"You need to calm down."

"I'm trying to calm down. I'm always trying to calm down."

"Maybe you need a Valium prescription or something because it's not working."

"Are you not stressed? Do you not care about catching Escobar?"

"Of course I am, and of course I do, but I know how to take care of my stress."

"Fine. Then, tell me how you do it."

"First off, you need to take a break, step away from your work. Stand up, take a walk, sit down somewhere else where you can't look through those folders anymore."

He stands up, maintaining a level of eye-contact that says he's determined to disprove your methods.

You motion for him to sit in a different chair and he does with the same permanent scowl plastered across his face.

"Now what? What else do you suggest?"

"I usually put on a movie or take a hot bath or…" You stop yourself before saying it.

"We don't have a VCR in here or a bathtub, so tell me what the third option is before I lose my mind."

"You know…" You make a motion that's supposed to indicate masturbation.

"You're saying I should jerk off? Right now? In this office?"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me you've never done it before."

"Not while you're here."

"Do you care if I'm here?"

"You would care. You just asked me to stop making sexual remarks about you earlier."

"Because your remarks were insulting and uncalled for and you were using them to deflect from the problem at hand."

"I don't get it. Are you saying you want to watch me jerk off?"

Truth be told, you wouldn't mind watching him get off. It’s not like you haven’t thought of it before. Seeing him finally vulnerable, undressed. Hearing his breath hitch, the choked out moans he struggles to hold back. His eyes closed, head thrown back, the sweat beading on his forehead, his lips parted -

"If that's what you want. But, I can do you one better."

At this point, you're just satisfying your own fantasy. You're more selfish than Javi, but he doesn’t need to know that.

For the first time in weeks his lips curve into a smile. "Yeah? You want to?"

"If it'll make you calm down and you swear on your life that you will never tell anyone that we did this."

"Deal."

"It better be. Or I will hand your ass over to Escobar."

"You're gonna make me go soft if you talk about him."

You're hard? Already? you think but don't say. Instead, you take a not-so-subtle glance at the front of his jeans.

"What? You offered me sexual favors. Of course I'm hard."

You approach him and he waits for you to slide into his lap and kiss him. It's sloppy, wet, tongue-tangled, teeth mashing together. You pull back nearly panting, and you begin to understand why women let him get away with things.

"I have one more condition."

"Lay it on me."

"I'm in charge."

"You've been in charge, cariño."

He hasn't called you that in at least a month - after you begged him to stop. You insisted he call you by your name because ‘this is a work environment’. And nicknames make you weak in the knees. But you can't tell him that being on a first name basis with him is almost worse. Every time he says your name it goes straight to that debauched part of your brain that you try to suppress.

You nod and stand up, and he says, mildly offended but mostly desperate, "Does 'in charge' mean you're leaving me high and dry?"

"No, I'm getting something." You walk to his desk. "Where are your handcuffs?"

You have handcuffs too, but there's something more enticing about restraining him with his own.

"Top right hand drawer. Why? Which one of us is getting handcuffed?"

"Take a guess," you say walking back towards him with the cuffs in hand.

"It's me, isn't it?"

"You're so smart, Javi," you tease. Even though you’re joking, you swear you hear his breathing change. You rarely praise him because he rarely deserves it. Maybe you should do it more often, you think.

"Take off your shirt first and put your hands behind your back."

He does as he's asked. Javi is suddenly more obedient when your tits are eye-level with him. "I can't believe I'm doing this. It better not be some sort of trap."

"It's not. I just think it'll be fun for both of us if I do this to you." The handcuffs click as you attach them to his wrists. It’s the only sound that fills the rare silence in the office.

"Do you hear that?" you ask with a serene smile.

"No, what?"

"Nothing. It's quiet in here for the first time ever."

"Not for long if you're any good."

"I am very good, I'll have you know."

"Have me know."

You straddle his lap and run your hands along the smooth skin of his broad chest. You lock eyes with him, tilt your head slightly and part your lips like you're going to kiss him, but when he leans in, you pull back.

You stifle a laugh when he leans forward, trying to reach your lips. It’s his only option as his handcuffs prevent him from grabbing your cheeks and pulling you towards him.

"That's fucked up," he says.

You're not cruel so you kiss him for real. Your tongue brushes against him and you arch your body towards him. You kiss him until you need to come up for air.

"You're not gonna pull back and leave me hanging this time, are you?"

"No, not unless you do something to deserve it."

"Like this?" he asks before biting your bottom lip gently.

"No, not like that," you whisper against his lips. You place featherlight kisses from his jaw to his collarbone, lips ghosting along his skin, teasing.

"You're making me more stressed, chica."

You hum, ignoring him, and then making your way up to the nape of his neck where you lightly suck and nip at his skin.

"Oh, fuck me," he groans.

"Be patient," you say softly as you place your hand on his hard cock, still covered by his jeans.

You palm him slowly, looking up into his eyes when you begin to unbuckle his belt. You wonder what kind of underwear he's wearing - is he a boxers type of guy? Briefs? Boxer-briefs? Every guess is incorrect, you find, as you unzip his jeans - he's gone commando.

"I knew you were a slut, Peña, but no underwear with jeans? That's bold."

"Easy access."

"Easy, that's for sure," you say, as you work together to get his pants down to his ankles. "And yet, very hard," you remark, taking his cock in your hand.

His hips twitch and you can tell he's trying not to fuck your fist, knowing you won't take kindly to it. You're in charge - that's the deal. You spit into your hand and watch as a bead of pre-cum forms at the tip of his dick. His breath hitches when you run your finger over it before you stroke him, increasing the speed of your hand gradually.

You dare to get on your knees and lap at the head, reveling in the way his head lolls back. Dying to get his eyes back on you, you take his cock as far as you can into your mouth - though you hadn't initially planned on sucking him off as he doesn't deserve it. His eyes fly open and he stares at you slack-jawed, his mouth slowly forming an 'o'. When he gets close, you stop, pull back, and stand up.

"Huh?" he asks in an uncharacteristically pathetic voice.

"You were enjoying yourself a little too much." You shrug.

"Yeah, I was enjoying myself. I was gonna cum soon." He pouts, lower lip jutting out and making him look boyish despite the mustache on his upper lip.

"I know."

"Are you not gonna let me cum? Is that what this is? A plan to torture me?"

"No, you'll get to cum eventually. This is an exercise in patience."

"I thought this was supposed to be stress-relief."

"Correct me if I'm wrong but it doesn't seem like you're thinking about work at all right now."

"I'm not."

"What are you thinking about?"

"What do you think?"

"I think, I want you to tell me." You sit down atop the desk across from the one he's sitting at and spread your legs. You watch his eyes as he figures out what you're doing.

"I'm thinking about what you'd look like without that skirt on. I'd rip it off you."

"I'm glad your hands are tied then," you say as you unzip it and let it fall to the floor. "Because it was expensive."

Javi doesn't say much about your black lace panties but his eyes are fixated on them. You begin to unbutton your top and his eyes follow your fingers as you slowly reveal your bra, and then your tits. This is the most he's paid attention to you in your entire time working here.

"God, I wish I could touch you," he says. "You're so fuckin' hot."

"I'm actually quite chilly," you say with a coy grin as you walk over to him and grab his shirt from the desk in front of him. You put it on, but don't button it up so your tits still peek through.

"It looks so much better on you."

"Thanks," you say with a genuine smile. "I expected it to smell like cigarettes but it smells nice."

He half-laughs. "What does it smell like?"

"You." You slide your panties to the side and begin to touch yourself nonchalantly.

"This is so unfair. You get to touch yourself, but I don't."

"I thought you would like watching me."

"I do, you have no idea how much I do."

You intended to tease him, but you find yourself going further, even slipping a finger inside yourself. When you add another, you moan, "Javi."

It's barely a tease anymore. His name slips out just as it does when you're alone in your bedroom with your hands in the same position. But now, you're watching Javi who’s watching you with his pink cheeks and leaking cock - all for you, because of you.

"Yeah? Feels good?"

"Uh-huh." You wish it was him, so much so that you get up from the desk and walk towards him. You sit in his lap, wearing nothing but his shirt, letting your skin touch his.

"You're so wet, cariño."

The way his voice rasps does something to you, grinding on him isn't enough. You need him inside you.

As you position yourself so that his tip is at your entrance, you ask, "promise you won't come inside me?"

"Promise. I'll let you know when I'm close."

You believe him because you have to, because you're going to fuck him anyway. You need him. So, you nod and sink down on his cock. You figured he'd be big - his tight jeans don't hide very much though you try not to stare, lest he catch you doing so, but you still whimper at the stretch.

"You're doing great, cariño."

You don't expect it to feel as good as it does, nor do you expect it to drain your stamina the way that it does. Your legs are shaking by the time you get close to the edge.

"You're struggling, querida," Javi says. "I can help, but you have to let me out of these."

"Yeah," you say, standing up to grab the key. He sighs at the loss of your wetness surrounding him.

You uncuff him and he grabs your hips gently, helping you back into the position you were in previously.

"I've got you," he says, and you trust that he does.

You let your head rest upon his shoulder, and when you moan, he can feel your breath on his skin - he can barely hear you over the sound of your skin meeting his over and over, the slick sounds of your arousal adding another layer to the pornographic chorus of your noises.

Your names are traded back and forth, both of your voices getting progressively needier. One of his hands slides under your - his - shirt to stroke the bare skin of your back as the other remains steady on your ass. You bite into his shoulder despite the fact that no one is in the office to hear you. You get a groan in response and you can tell his orgasm is approaching too.

"Gonna cum," he says. "Where do you want it?"

"Inside," you say because it's the truth.

It's like you've cast a spell on him or rewired his brain. He should not cum inside you but he does. His whole body jolts as euphoria washes over him.

Your walls clamp down around him and your fingernails dig into his flesh, and you've never been high but there's no way cocaine feels this good. If you could crush an orgasm up into a powder, you'd be rich.

When you come back to reality, you're faced with Javi's beautiful brown eyes and a smile.

"Thank you," he says. "I feel a lot better."

You're beginning to envision your happily ever after when you stand up and you hear Javi say, "Oh fuck."

"What?" You say, looking down and watching your mistake drip out of you.

"I think we just created another problem to be stressed about."

"I'm on the pill. We'll be fine. And, if you're stressed, we can always do it again."

"You're right. I think we need to give it another shot. You said baths are relaxing, right? We could try it in a bathtub, maybe even in the shower."

You shake your head. "Uh-huh," you say sarcastically. "And since movies are relaxing, we should do it in the theater."

"That's a great idea, actually."

"Yeah? You think risking an arrest would help your stress?"

"I don't know, baby. I guess we'll have to find out."

Maybe you have yet to catch the King of Cocaine, but tonight, you feel satisfied as you climb into bed with the King of Sex.

#javier peña x reader #javier peña smut #javier pena smut #javier peña #javier pena narcos #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena x you #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #narcos fanfiction #javier peña fanfiction #javier pena imagine #javier pena fic #javier pena #javier peña x you #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic

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angelwings-crossbowstrings · 1 year ago

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Blood Ties Chapter 2

Series Masterlist

Chapter Warnings: Typical TWD violence and gore

Moodboard by @dannyo000 💙

You were doing up the buttons on your flannel when you heard Daryl grumbling behind you.

“I hate rubbers.”

You chuckled, putting your hands on the nape of your neck and pushing outward to coax your hair out of the shirt. The man had done as you asked all those weeks ago, returning to the next meetup with condoms in hand. You had left it up to him to dispose of them afterward, earning an amusing curl of his lip.

“So,” you began, plopping down on the ground, “guess what.”

Daryl zipped up his own pack and shrugged it over his shoulders, raising a brow at you with his usual expression of indifference. “We gonna start cuddlin’ after too?”

“Shut up. It’s not just every day conversation, asshole. I’m late.”

“Ya got a curfew now?” He scoffed, snatching his crossbow up off the ground to slide the strap over his right shoulder.

“No, idiot. I mean, my period is late.”

“How ya even keep up with that now?” He was still standing, fingers of his left hand tapping nervously against his hip while he chewed on the skin of his right thumb. Uncomfortable again.

“I always kept a little date book in my bag before things went to shit. Just started marking off days when we came up here. Hoping this would all end and life could go back to—well, being life.” You picked up a twig and started breaking small sections off, not really wanting to look at him. “I’m 6 days late, which is pretty odd for me.”

“I don’t need the details. D’ya need a test or somethin’?”

“I will if it doesn’t come soon, yeah.” You tossed the stick down and got to your feet, dusting off your hands on your thighs. “Probably should do it next week if it’s still not happening.”

The man was a ball of anxiety, fidgeting and shifting his weight from foot to foot. You watched him warily, waiting for him to bolt and that would be that. If you were pregnant, you’d be in it alone.

“I’ll make a run an’ see if I can find one.” He finally said after a few minutes of unnerving silence, shouldering his string of squirrels. You blinked at him, eyes as big as saucers. “What? Said we’d deal with it an’ I meant it.”

“I’ll go with you then.”

“Nah, I got it. Just bring it next week.” He sniffed, looking down at his boots as he kicked at the ground. “Ain’t no reason for ya to go out in that mess.”

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re being protective.”

He scoffed, scrunching his nose in a way you could almost say was adorable. “Just don’t need ya trippin’ me up.”

Pursing your lips, you crossed your arms over your chest, deciding whether or not to argue with him. It was something that involved the both of you. You’d feel horrible if something happened to him while he was trying to take care of it alone. And you’d never know. He’d just never show up again, leaving you to wonder if he had simply bailed or—

“I’m going too.”

“No, ya ain’t.” He snapped while you picked up your rifle and the three rabbits you’d bagged. You started walking, leaving him trailing behind you with his stomping feet and flared nostrils. “Ya ain’t goin’!”

“You gonna stop me?” You asked, not missing a step. You heard him pause before his boots moved faster to catch back up with you. “I’m a big girl, Dixon. I can handle myself.”

“Fine. Whatever.”

You only encountered two geeks at the base of the mountain. Daryl took out one with a bolt between the eyes while you handled the other with your hunting knife. His scowl was thoroughly in place by the time you were cleaning the dark blood from the blade with the bottom of your shirt. He didn’t say a word but he didn’t have to. You knew it was because you had to get close to the corpse to kill it. You couldn’t risk firing your gun when so many others could close by.

The two of you were crouched in the bushes, the pharmacy across the street in the little town in clear view. Three geeks shuffled aimlessly in different directions, making it difficult to find a way straight through.

“Maybe one of us could distract them?” You suggested. “I could go out over there, make some noise and draw them off while you go inside.” You looked over to find him staring at you like you’d sprouted a second head. “What?”

“You’re the one that knows whatcha need in there. I’ll handle the geeks.”

You really couldn’t argue with that. There were so many different tests for pregnancy, ovulation, and other things, Daryl would probably bring out the entire shelf and still not have what you needed. With a nod, you watched him make his way down the ditch, staying low. His eyes met yours briefly and, with a jerky nod, he left the cover of the foliage and whistled, waving his arms.

You waited for an opening, nearly leaping out before two more corpses stumbled from the alley next to the pharmacy. “Fuck.” Daryl was going to be sorely outnumbered. Something in your gut twisted, the strong urge to stay and help the redneck, ensure he was safe, before you entered the pharmacy. He’d have your head if you dared. With another curse, you left your hiding place and dashed across the street, your steps that of a hunter—swift and silent.

The pharmacy was blessedly clear, a few geeks sprawled out between aisles, clean holes in their skulls. Daryl had been there before. “So, this is where you got the condoms. You reckless son of a bitch.” You smirked, the knowledge that fucking you was enough fun to have him scurrying down the mountain for the means to continue.

You grabbed two of each kind of test, deeming labels and specifications unnecessary when Daryl was outside fighting the undead to keep them off your back. The boxes were quickly shoved into your bag, and you were creeping back toward the door. Just as your hand touched the glass, a geek stumbled by. You quickly ducked and moved to the side, peeking around the magazine stand to ensure it had passed before you pushed the door open.

There were at least 7 of them on the far end of the street, walking toward nothing you could see. Where was Daryl? You barely lifted a foot to step off the curb when an arm snaked around your waist and a hand clamped down over your mouth.

“S’me. S’just me.” Daryl whispered against your ear. Wrapping your fingers around his wrist, you forced his hand away from your face and spun around to give him a shove.

“You scared the shit out of me!” You whisper-yelled.

“Got whatcha need?” He was already ushering you toward the trees across the street. You gave a sharp nod and ducked into the bushes, finally releasing a breath when you could look back and no longer see any trace of the town.

“Well, that was fun.”

Daryl snorted beside you, adjusting the strap of his crossbow on his shoulder. Once your heart rate slowed, you were able to settle back into your appreciation for the forest. So far, the turn had been unable to strip that away from you. The wildlife continued to flourish, seeing no difference between the dead and the living. Plants would grow. Flowers would bloom. Seasons would change.

In some ways, life would go on.

“Y/N.”

“Yeah?” You turned to find Daryl facing away from you. With a quick look around, you realized how long the two of you had really been walking. It was time to part ways. “Oh. Right. Heading back now?”

“Nah. Gonna see if I can bag a deer. So, ‘nother day or two.” He was gnawing at his thumb again.

“Right. Well. Three days, midday?” He nodded his agreement, those blue eyes of his flitting to your pack and back to you. You smiled through a strange feeling, pushing it down as he started to walk away. “See you then.”

“See ya.”

“Hey, daddy.” You smiled, finding your father sitting by the small fire when you parted the last bit of foliage to enter the camp.

“Peanut, you’re back late. I was gettin’ worried!” He shifted in his wheelchair to sit straighter, smile wide and arms open. You leaned in for his offered hug, holding up the rabbits when you separated.

“Got some meat for tomorrow.” You smiled for only a moment before looking around for the rest of your family. “Did they seriously leave you out here alone?”

“I’m fine, darlin’. Told ‘em to go on to bed and that I’d rather wait up for you.”

You gave him a pointed look, laying the rabbits aside to prep later. “Well, I’m here now. You should get some sleep.”

“It’s early yet. Tell me how it was out there.”

You sat down in one of the fold-out chairs, toeing at the rocks surrounding the small fire. “It’s quiet. It’s always quiet.”

“You see any of ‘em?” He asked, a hint of concern in his tone. You shook your head. “I worry about you going out all alone.”

“I can handle myself, daddy.”

“I know you can, peanut. I just—wish you didn’t have to. It’s a parent’s job to worry about their kids, you know.” He smiled and you couldn’t help but smile back.

“You’re gonna give yourself gray hair with all the worrying. Oh shit, I think I see some from all the way over here!” You laughed with him for a while longer before the fire burned out and the camp was dark.

You bolted upright in your sleeping bag, still groggy and not really remembering why it was you were awake in the first place. Rubbing your eyes, you sat there for a moment before deeming it time to get the day started. The sun was barely up but your uncles were already stirring if the sounds outside the tent were anything to go by. Your aunt had taken watch several hours earlier so she’d probably be sleeping now.

Scratching at your scalp with a yawn, you glanced over at your open pack, the top corner of a box peeking out from beneath your jacket. You sighed, knowing you would need to take the test. You still hadn’t bled and you’d be meeting Daryl the next day. You groaned and grabbed your clothes, slipping on everything haphazardly while your uncles banged and clanged on everything they possibly could outside. Shrugging on your jacket, you unzipped the tent.

“Jesus, some of us are still half asleep! Uncle James, could you put on some coffee for daddy before—”

Just as you began to crawl from your tent, a geek came barging in, teeth clicking and rotting fingers grabbing. You screamed and scrambled backwards, kicking at the corpse while your hand searched blindly for your knife. Another clumsily shoved its way inside, pinning one of your legs and leaving you just far enough from your weapon that your fingertips brushed the handle.

Somewhere outside, your father was screaming.

Chapter 3

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bambi-slxt · 5 months ago

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🤍𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐘𝐨𝐮 ~ 𝐩𝐭 𝐭𝐰𝐨🤍

𝕔𝕙𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕡𝕙𝕖𝕣 𝕤𝕥𝕦𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕠𝕝𝕠 𝕩 𝕗𝕖𝕞

word count: 3.2k

genre/tropes: established friendship, one-sided love (or is it?)

warnings: slight angst

pt one: here

notes from bambi: the POV switches throughout this part - switches will be indicated by an extra blank line. also i wasn't originally planning to add another part to this but ohhhh i'm so glad i did. thank you to @sturniololover-09 , @ivonchetooo1239 , and @aliceloveschris , who asked for part two - hope you like it!

Another night, another stressed-out Christopher. While I already felt out-of-my-depth when he came to me with his existential romance crisis, his current issue proved to be even more herculean in nature.

“Chris. For the umpteenth time. I don’t know how to make the glow stars stick to your ceiling.”

“But I need them to! And they’re supposed to stick, it said so on the box-”

“It also said to clean the area thoroughly before application,” I said dryly, crossing my ankles and settling deeper into the blankets on his bed, “And when exactly did you wipe down your ceiling?”

Chris harrumphed. “The universe is working against me.”

“I’m sure it is, honey. Can we please start this now?” I gestured to his monitor, some dumb lawyer show on Netflix - Coats or Jackets or something. Chris told me earlier how much I’d love it, to which I had replied, “We’ll see.” The last show he tried to get me to watch with him was deplorable, and it took a long time for me to see Cole Sprouse, Lili Reinhart, and KJ Appa as anything other than the god-awful actors Riverdale painted them to be.

“I wanna try one more time,” he said, stepping ungraciously over my legs and stretching towards the ceiling.

“Is it made of plaster?” I asked, tilting my head upwards, trying very hard to avoid looking straight up his loose basketball shorts.

“What, this?” He pointed upward. “I think. Why?”

I hummed in reply and began tapping away on my phone. Chris shrugged and went back to his Sisyphysian task. The stars would stick initially, but kept falling after a while and stabbing us in the rudest of places - an hour ago I got a crescent moon to the boob.

Soft music drifted down the stairs outside his bedroom door - Matt must be playing something in the kitchen. The four of us ate dinner earlier and as Chris made it, I was a guest, and Nick didn’t feel good, he’d been on clean-up.

“Hey.” I pulled on the hem of Chris’s shorts. “This says if we use rubbing alcohol to clean the area first instead of just like, a damp cloth or something, that should work. It also says a hot glue gun will help it stick better.”

Chris put his hand on my head, thumbing my soft baby hairs that would never stay put - his way of saying ‘thank you’. “Do we even have a hot glue gun?”

“No idea,” I murmured as I leaned against his leg.

“Time to find out!” He scrambled over me, stepping on my arm and almost tea-bagging me.

“You fuck,” I said, smacking him on the arm as he ran out of the room giggling.

“Hey do we have rubbing alcohol and a hot glue gun?”

Matt startled and shook his head, leaning over the sink. “Jesus, you scared the fuck outta me,” he huffed. “Alcohol, yes, in your bathroom, glue gun, no.”

“Well shit. ‘Preciate it,” Chris said, patting him on the back and turning for the stairs.

“Hey.”

“What?”

“She okay?”

Chris’s brows knitted together. “Whaddaya mean?” “She just seems kinda stressed, ‘s all,” Matt said. “Somethin’ else on the mind.”

“She’s good as far as I know.”

“K. Come up behind me like that again, I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

“Whatever,” Chris responded, grinning his way back downstairs.

“There’s rubbing alcohol in my bathroom.”

I scrunched my face. “Since when?”

“No idea. Can you get one of my t-shirts, we’ll use that for the cleaning thingy.”

“Yeah,” I said, unwrapping myself from his blankets and stepping lazily toward his closet. Chris was already down one shirt due to the fact that I’d ripped my going out top just as we got home earlier. The “kickback” at Tara’s felt more like a rager and I considered it a miracle no one ended up naked. While digging around for something for me to wear, Chris had found the unopened bag of glow-in-the-dark stars, and the rest was history.

I tugged on the faded tee now, bunching the front end up in my hands as I rifled around to the back of his closet. It all smelled like him, piney with a hint of spice that makes your nose feel cold and tingly. I felt goosebumps rise on my arms. “You don’t care about this one do you?” I said quickly, trying to move on.

He turned and shook his head, dark, soft curls falling around his eyes. “Toss it.” In my defense, I did my best. It’s not my fault the damn thing got flung halfway back to the door when he smacked it out of the air instead of catching it, and I told him so with a huff. “Sure, sure, blame me,” Chris said, grinning.

“I will,” I replied, bending over to pick it up.

Chris felt his chest cave in. There she was, baby hairs falling awry, his massively oversized crewneck slipping halfway off her shoulders, body lit up by the soft light from his screensaver. His knees buckled, and he stepped out to steady himself on the plush bed. She noticed - of course she did - and tilted her head. “You good there, hotrod?” Her smile was slightly uneven, like it always had been before, and Chris wanted to kiss it very badly for the rest of his life and probably after that as well.

“I’m fantastic,” he said, blinking the thoughts away from his mind.

“Okay,” I laughed, throwing the offending shirt back at him. “I’ll go get the rubbing alcohol and then can we please watch your damn show?”

“So rowdy. Yeah, hurry up.”

I shook my head and walked out of his room, turning the small corner into his bathroom and flicking on the light. My toothbrush rested on his counter. He only hung up his towels because he knew I would try to do it my way, and he hated my way. I looked at myself in the mirror.

A moment passed, filled of my own wonderings about what Chris saw when he looked at me. Was it me - the way I looked, my individual features, did they jump out at him? Some were impossible to miss…they sure did jump out at me. Or did his brain focus on other things? Did he even care how I looked, when my physical characteristics stacked up to the years of friendship we’d already put behind us, the late nights, early mornings, the adventures, the bad times…I pulled the rubbing alcohol out from under his sink before I forgot and opened up my phone. Swiping out of the “how to stick glow stars to plaster” search tab, I went to our messages.

iMessage chat with Orange Juice:

taras got a thing tonight u wanna go

You:

duh what’s the vibes?

Orange Juice:

i think just whatever im not putting on anything fancy

You:

you’re so boring.

Orange Juice:

shut up

im glad youre coming

You:

please use apostrophes, just once i’m actually begging.

Orange Juice:

thou can suck my confetti covered cock about it actually

You:

oh! taking a screenshot and sending it to mary lou

Orange Juice:

okay wait

You:

no :D get fucked, mister magic penis

Orange Juice: im glad youre coming

↪ me too. missed u tons

Orange Juice:

same

you wanna talk about canes

You:

we can, are you still feeling weird about things?

Orange Juice:

no i just wanna talk like that more with you

you’r advice was really good

You:

that’s not how you use an apostrophe christopher

Then they all arrived to pick me up for Tara’s, Chris hugged me, and we said nothing more about it. Chris. I should get this back to him. Reaching for the light, I looked for the rubbing alcohol, felt the switch with my other hand, grabbed the bottle, and flipped the lights off without looking. So it came as a terrifying surprise when I ran smack into Chris’s chest. “FUCKSHITPISSIMGONNAKILLYOU,” I nearly shouted at him, letting my hands rest on his chuckling chest, panting with the overwhelming surge of adrenaline.

“‘Fuck’, ‘shit’, and ‘piss’?” he snickered, covering my hands with his own. “That’s insane.”

I stalked past him into his room, tossing the bottle behind my shoulder - he would catch it or he wouldn’t and then I would know karma was on my side. “I don’t wanna discuss it.”

“Okay then,” Chris said, still laughing as he poured the awful-smelling stuff onto his ancient shirt, balled it up, and began to scrub his ceiling. “What took you so long in there?”

I did not want to answer him. “You’re doing it wrong,” I huffed. I climbed up onto the bed with him, reaching up to take his makeshift rag.

Chris’s mouth slid into a sly smile, and he raised it farther above my head than I could reach. “Am I?”

I stepped closer to him, pressed against his chest like I’d been before. Showing him my best doe-eyes, I whined, “Give it, Chris, please.”

His tongue swiped over his lips, both of which now hung open. Chris looked down at me and I looked up at him. The height difference was slight, but now the mere inches felt incredibly important in the moment’s silence. “What?” I whispered, barely more than a breath.

Jesus Christ, girlie, Chris groaned inwardly. She just looked so cute, and she had always been so sweet to him, and she took him to Cane’s and listened to his mostly-incoherent stream of consciousness, and she loved his brothers and she helped him hang up glow stars and she might actually be the most perfect person he’d ever met.

“Chris?” her voice, though soft, held him in a painful vice grip. “What’s wrong?”

He loosed a breath, lowering his hand and letting his arms settle around her, gathering at the small of her back. Chris pressed his lips against her forehead, resting his against it when her wrists crossed behind his neck.

“Nothin’s wrong,” he murmured, a humored smile making its way across his face. He heard his voice change with the mounting anxiety in his chest. “Jus’ like bein’ with ya, ‘s all.”

My stomach fluttered at his words. “I like being with you too, bubs.” An idea sparked in my brain, and before any of my self-preservation instincts could kick in, I dropped my hands from his neck and dug them under his arms, tickling mercilessly. Chris’s eyes lit up in a flash, cowing his back to get away from me while simultaneously making a beeline for my ribs to lay waste to them in a similar fashion.

“You little fucker!” he cackled, dancing around on the bed to avoid my hands.

“AKSPBTH, GET AWAY GET AWAY GET AWAY!” I was shrieking with glee as we tumbled in a writhing heap on his pillows, gasping for breath while he continued his unhindered attack on my body. “ChrisChrisChrisChris-” I panted, making ultimately futile attempts to wriggle out from under him, “Please, truce, truce, I’m begging-”

Laughing still, he sat back on his knees, arms still on either side of me. Chris’s hair fell so messy above me, his chain dangling just above my nose. I gave him a downturned smile.

“Pinned ya,” he huffed triumphantly.

I lightly smacked his chest with a daring snort of derision. “Like you’d do anything about it.”

“Shut up.” Chris, still smiling that heart-wrenchingly adorable smile of his, lowered his head until our noses touched. “Hi.” He blinked his big blue eyes comically at me.

“Hey,” I replied softly, another laugh lilting quietly from my throat. I found myself enjoying this moment very much.

Chris tilted his head, hair swinging with him. “Whatcha thinkin’ ‘bout?”

I giggled. “Nothin’.”

He huffed, scrunching his nose and rubbing it against mine, his chain slipping over my chin, and I couldn’t help but laugh again. He tended to bring that out of me. My arms reached up to wrap around his back. “Come here,” I whispered, and as he lowered his chest to mine, I felt his arms slip up around my head. I nuzzled into his neck and held him.

We lay like that for a while, the pressure on my body soothing me, his scent engulfing me. I could get used to this.

“Hey.”

“I wanna talk about our conversation.”

“From the other night?”

“Mhm.”

“We can. Do you wanna sit up?”

“No,” he grumbled, doing it anyway.

“Poor baby,” I teased, “Your life is so very hard.” My heart felt full. Something was changing. I could sense it somehow.

Chris blushed at my words, shaking his head and hiding his gaze. He settled back against his headboard to the right side of me while I tugged a blanket up to my shoulders. “You cold?” he asked, but I shook my head.

“‘S just soft, that’s all. What do you wanna talk about?” I asked, tucking my arm under his.

Chris squeezed it and took a deep breath. “I said I wasn’t sure how I loved you. And we talked about how we don’t have much romantic love experience.”

“Mhm.” I waited for him to continue.

“And I just…” Chris laid his head on mine. “I…feel something…for you. But I don’t think it’s fair to even tell you that because I really don’t know if it’s anything more than that friend-type of love.” The sigh he let out was shaky. I stayed stock-still, unsure of what he was getting at and hoping to god my heart wasn’t about to be crushed. “And then I started thinkin’ about what you said about love…how it was like, a bunch of choices you make.” His right hand reached over, tentative and uncertain, touching the arm I’d tucked next to him ever so lightly. “And then you said a buncha’ stuff about my family but you didn’t say anythin’ about yourself.” He turned his head and looked down at me, his face dark in the soft light.

Her eyes flicked up to meet his and Chris’s heart went into cardiac arrest. There was so much trust in her gaze, she might as well have opened her soul wide open for him to look at, and he wanted to drown himself in it. His lips parted in a disbelieving sigh - this girl, this woman, she’d been with him for so long, always patient, always willing to listen, she never pushed him but god did she challenge him, she made him laugh, she made him want to act better…he wanted to be a person she would be proud to know. Maybe even…maybe even someone she would want to call her boyfriend. “I care about you,” he said, his heart thumping with fear. “I don’t know if that's romantic love or not but...” he paused. God, he was so scared. “If you’ll let me…I wanna find out with you.”

And there it was - the confession. Chris had metaphorically ripped his heart from its cage and handed it to her, and he was terrified over what she’d do with it.

“Love…is waking up every day and choosing that person regardless of what the day is gonna throw at you.”

Her voice echoed in his head. Chris chose her. Even if she didn’t choose him back.

I exhaled slowly. My chest almost caved in from the weight of his words. “Chris…” I whispered, tears welling in my eyes. “You have…no idea…how long I’ve wanted to hear that.” I wanted to hug him, desperately, but I was afraid of breaking him. He looked so scared, scared of love, scared of messing up, scared of being less than expected or not enough…he looked so scared.

“Yeah?” he asked softly, unable to look away.

“Yeah,” I nodded, my hand moving up slowly, so slowly, to touch his cheek. Gingerly, I traced my knuckle down his stubble, and his sweet blue eyes closed at my touch. My own did their best to blink away tears, but ultimately failed.

Suddenly, the most unrelated thought occurred to me. “Chris,” I whispered, “Look at the stars.” He tilted his head up in awe at the glow stars that had stuck to the ceiling after all this time. Not a single planet loose, not a moon out of place. They covered the plaster with a hazy blue hue, casting gentle shadows down his neck.

“Holy shit,” he said with a soft laugh. “They really did stay up there.”

It all felt like one big giant metaphor to me, but maybe that interpretation was a bit on-the-nose. I elected to keep it to myself. I smiled at him, hoping I didn’t look disastrous with those damn tear tracks down my cheeks.

“Heyyy, hey…” Chris murmured, holding my face with both hands and thumbing the product of my overwhelming emotions away, “I got you. I’m not goin’ anywhere.”

“Neither am I,” I promised. I kissed his palm on impulse, eyes darting up to his. Is this okay?

Of course it is.

I continued my ministrations, taking his wrist in hand and kissing up to the tips of his fingers, curling them down to move up his knuckles until I reached the back of his hand. He let me, a curious expression on his face. With my final kiss, I made direct eye-contact with him. He breathed out and let his hand fall, his thumb catching softly on my bottom lip, the rest of his fingers fitting neatly under my chin.

“Please let me kiss you,” he whispered, his brows furrowed, his eyelids heavy, his gaze addicted to my lip, the bottom of which sprung plushly back into place when his thumb let go of it. He looked like a man starved.

I slid my fingers into the soft, loose curls at the back of his neck and tilted my head, letting his lips press so sweetly against mine. My stomach tingled, butterflies fluttering to life in my chest. Chris’s hands slipped up my back, hugging me into him, his nose pressing against my cheek as he kissed me again and again, slowly, patiently. His breath filled my mouth, and mine his. I probably exhaled a bit of my soul too. The thought made me smile and he murmured against my skin. “What is it, pretty girl?” He kissed the edges of my smile, nosing my blushed face, relishing the closeness now allowed to him.

“I just like you,” I said shyly.

He grinned, making a fist and yanking his elbow back to his side. “Yesssss.”

I erupted into giggles and he just watched me contentedly.

Pulling away for the briefest of moments to adjust my knees, I looked up to see Chris, looking like he’d been shot. “Come back…I wasn’t done,” he grumbled.

“You’re so whiny,” I teased, holding his cheeks in my hands.

He smiled impishly. “I jus’ like ya.”

“You like sitting here with me?” I asked, stroking the shell of his ear, drowning in his eyes like he was in mine.

“I like sitting here with you,” Chris confirmed, his voice gentle and low. “I want ya’ to be my girl.”

“Well, I want you to be my boy,” I huffed, grinning. “What about that?”

“I think I’ll live,” he replied, tilting his head to kiss me again.

The end.

request to be on the taglist under this post right here

tags (some may be duplicates): @aliceloveschris @ivonchetooo1239 @sturniololover-09 @schluttforpineapple @ghostofbrock @jnkvivi @whatrulookingat11 @pinksturniolo @sleepysturnss @pinksturniolo @malirosee @st7rnioioss @nonat-111 @cindylcuwho @evie-sturns @h3arts4harry @fanficsbymia @dazednmatthews @sturniolo-rat @mattsmad @sturniolo04 @bellasturn @blahbel668 @yomamaslays4lyfe @stasiesturn @pleasantlycrazyworld @ariqolyx @wh0resstuff @krissy4gov @coochiedestroyer1 @madisturn @mattspolitank @sturnsxplr-25 @xtravrgnoliveoil @raysmayhem-72 @sturnpooks @certifiedstarrr @melanch0lybby @freshloveforthefit @xoxo4chrisss @stunza @meerkatzthings @zivall @sturniolopepsi @that1fangirll

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stellamancer · 1 year ago

Note

hehehehehehheheheehehehehehehehehhehehehe

💘 ,':^)

THANK YOU MODAAAA. u always got my back. even if while writing this i had a mental crisis and forgot how to write gojo LMAOOOO

fake relationship / mutual pining / dared to kiss

Gojo points at the humongous parfait pictured on the backside of the menu and grins widely at the waitress. “We’d like to order one of these, please!”

She hesitates, her eyes shifting between you and Gojo and you can’t help but get the feeling something is amiss. Are they maybe sold out for the day? That’d suck, but if that’s the case, then it can’t be helped since Gojo did say that it’s the restaurant’s most popular item. Slowly, the waitress speaks, “That item is a special couples only item, so when guests order it, we ask them to…”

She trails off, but you get what she’s saying: she wants proof that you and Gojo are dating.

Which is impossible since you and Gojo aren’t dating, not even close. You could barely even be considered friends.

You look at him, and you half expect him to bat those perfect eyelashes at the waitress, asking her to make an exception this one time, but instead he is staring at you.

Batting his eyelashes at you.

What the hell are you supposed to do?

Kiss him or something?

“Don’t be shy,” Gojo tells you playfully, looking like he’s having the time of his life.

“I—” you start, but then stop, unsure of what to do. Do you play the part he wants you to play: a partner feeling shy about public displays of affection? Or do you chew him out for not telling you the conditions of getting the parfait that you both came here for?

Surely he knew, there was no way he couldn’t have since he’s the one who suggested coming here.. If anyone should be performing any sort of PDA it should be Gojo, not you.

You’re fine with settling with a different, marginally smaller parfait.

Sensing your answer, Gojo sighs dramatically. “You can barely keep your hands off me at home, so I would’ve thought one little kiss in public wouldn’t be that bad.”

He’s such a liar; you’ve never even been to his place.

“Oh well.” His tone changes, becoming suddenly nonchalant. “So, instead of that parfait, can I get thirty of your chocolate strawberry parfait?”

The waitress blanches and you think you might see her soul trying to leave her body. You don’t blame her, you’re feeling pretty faint yourself. Thirty parfaits? Is Gojo serious?

You look at him again and he turns to you, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen a serene smile look so ominous. It’s not so much that he’s being serious about this, but more than he’s betting on you to do what he wants.

Damn him for essentially holding this girl hostage for just trying to do her job and damn you too for not being able to stick to your guns.

It’s fine, it’s whatever, it’s just a kiss.

You slam your hand down on the table and half standing as you lean forward to kiss Gojo. Your mouth collides with his and he goes completely still. Is he surprised? He wasn’t seriously goading you into just giving him a simple kiss on the cheek, was he?

The kiss lasts only a second before you whip your head from Gojo’s to look at the waitress who’s gawking at the both of you. “We’ll get just the one couples parfait, okay?”

She gulps and nods before rushing off to put the order in.

You sit back down and Gojo laughs, “I knew you loved me, after all!”

That comment earns him a scowl. “No, you knew that I wouldn’t let you make that poor girl put an order for thirty parfaits in.”

He merely smiles and that all but confirms it.

“You could have just told me, you know, before we got here,” you grumble.

“Yeah maybe, but where would be the fun in that?”

#namoda vibes #ask games #nikuniku fics #gojo x reader #gojo x you #i'm literally like how do i write gojo again???#i'm not used to this dynamic LMAO #i should have gone with the other idea #i should have not let them KISS #i wouldn't even call that a kiss

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year ago

Text

Gun Park x Reader: this is our place (we make the rules)

It’s not that weird, is it?

Knocking on a neighbour’s door that you don’t know on a Friday evening, asking for a screwdriver as your kitchen sink is flooding, damp t-shirt sticking to you and a wet streak through your hair.

No. You shake your head. This resembles nothing like a terrible cheesy porn scenario. It’s fine. This is fine.

(And really, you should know who the maintenance people are in this building… Frankly. It’s your first night in this seriously upscale building. Do they even have maintenance people or is it just personal butlers?)

You self-consciously try to run your hands through your hair, already knowing you look desperately out of place in your new home.

But, god bless her soul, your estranged grandma has pretty much set you up for life. Leaving you a decent inheritance and an apartment in Gangnam. So what if it came with a dodgy sink where the water isn’t so much leaking as gushing out.

No problem.

You have all the world’s information at your fingertips and countless NewTube tutorials. A lifetime of frugal habits and a can-do attitude means you’re not going to spend more than you need to.

So here you are.

Outside your neighbour’s door.

Putting off looking like a weirdo while every second your new apartment could be resembling more like a swimming pool.

You take a deep breath, steeling your resolve and ring the doorbell.

A faint chime from inside reaches your ears and you wait.

And wait.

And just as you’re on the verge of leaving and trying someone else, you hear footsteps. Which, you think with unease, sounds irritable. You didn’t even know footsteps could sound irritable.

The door cracks open, just slightly, and the man peering through the gap narrows his black eyes at you. Needs must; you’ll just casually breeze past that.

With what you hope is a winning smile, the words tumble out.

“Hi, I’m your new neighbour. This used to belong to my grandma but I’m here. Just moved in! Funny story actually, she didn’t take too good care of it so now I have a leaky sink. You can probably tell,” you signal to the state of your hair and clothing, “I’m sorry for disturbing you, I didn’t mean to-”

He cuts you off, words short and terse. “Why are you here?”

“Oh… uh, do you have a screwdriver I can borrow? Flathead please.”

The guy takes one more look at you and shuts the door.

Excuse me? Did he just? Wow.

You’re not really sure what to do, because who doesn’t lend their neighbour a screwdriver? You shuffle your feet, contemplating if you should try the neighbours on the other floor. But what if they shut their door in your face too?

And maybe you should have called a plumber or maintenance already like a normal person. But they likely won't get here for hours. Hindsight is a bitch.

Just as you’re about to skulk away, trying to concoct another plan, the door opens again. Fully this time.

“Here,” the man says, now revealing himself to you and handing over a toolbox.

Holy shit. You take in his tall lean frame, pretty sure you can see his muscles and abs through his shirt what the fuck, the strong jaw and the hair which is this side of mussed, obviously relaxing after a long week. He looks about your age and might be the hottest guy you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Cheeks flushing, you stammer your thanks and after he gives you a slight nod (was that a smirk?), you take your leave.

Fuck fuck fuck. It doesn’t work. Fuck NewTube and fuck this sink.

What if it floods fully and leaks through to the apartment below. You can’t afford to pay for damages of whatever fancy shit you may or may not have broken.

Your neighbour' door opens for the third time this evening, and the guy holds his hand out expectantly for his toolbox.

In for a penny, in for a pound. You move it a touch out of reach, a hostage of sorts, as you start to ramble again, this time tears pricking at your eyes.

“I’m so sorry but I couldn’t fix it. Is there a maintenance or plumbing number you can give me?”

He frowns, your words sinking in and checking out your sorry state.

“Is this going to damage my apartment?”

“No?” The question mark is loud.

“Tell me what is wrong with your… sink.”

You mutter something about hopefully just a leaky valve. Which should be oh-so-simple to fix, according to your troubleshooting skills. Perhaps that is as lacking as your handiness.

With a sigh, he grabs the toolbox out of your hand, fingers brushing yours too quickly before you’re able to comprehend what’s happening, and moves with confident strides towards your place.

Gun, he answered after you asked his name. You thought he didn’t hear when you asked the first time. The second time he hesitated, a little shifty with his body language. As if his name is a secret.

And as he ducks under your kitchen sink with a screwdriver, head almost fully shoved in the cabinet, vascular forearms showing with his sleeves rolled up, tinkering with something or another; you wonder if anything ever looks out of place in those arms, held in those fingers.

His shirt, which looks painfully expensive with a designer logo plastered all over it, is completely soaked through (dear god, those were his abs that were showing clearly through), now looking tantalising transparent and clinging to his torso.

With his arms lifted, it rides up. Showing a pale strip of skin. All hip bones and muscles and fuck. Fuck.

This is your home. Yours. How are you so incredibly flustered in your own home?

“Wrench.” comes his voice, low and silky.

“Uhh…” you rummage around and hand him the adjustable tool.

A twist, a creak, and the water slows.

Drying up to a slow leak, then a few drips, then… nothing.

Is this guy an angel or what? Your survey the puddles, body sagging with relief that in hindsight it isn’t too terrible. No lasting damage.

Gun stands up, dusting himself off and you gush your thanks. Pouring your gratitude.

His black eyes shift to you, aloof and apathetic.

“Don’t mention it. It’s a one off. I’m not in the habit of doing favours.”

Huh?

Your jaw hangs open at his attitude as he makes a swift exit without giving you a second glance.

So much for him being an angel.

#not sure about this #not sure about a multi chap for gun cos i cannot write that guy #also not sure about writing so much from reader POV #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #lookism fanfic #lookism fics #gun park #park jonggun #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #wannaeatramyeon

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aquietwritingcorner · 2 months ago

Text

Unexpected Patient

For @tmnt-write-fight for @dandylovesturtles

Title: Unexpected Patient Prompt: Outsider POV of anyone getting rescued by the turtles Fandom: TMNT 2003 Word Count: 2855 Author: aquietwritingcorner/realitybreakgirl Rating: T Characters: OC (Samantha Craik, Peter Craik), Leonardo, Raphael, Donatello, Michelangelo, Casey Jones Warning: NA Summary: Samantha Craik did not expect for a stop at a corner store on her way home from her shift at the hospital to put her in life-threatening danger, but it did. She also didn’t expect for the life-threatening danger to put a new patient in her lap, but, well, it was, apparently, a night of unexpected things. Notes: Sam is a character I’ve had around in some form since I was 13, and Peter since my early 20s. I have fun sticking her in fics here and there. This isn’t their first appearance in TMNT fics, as I lent the both of them out to some friends in the late 2000s for their Fast Forward fics. Unfortunately, those are long lost, which is a shame, really. Back up your favorite fics, y’all! ff.net || AO3

___________________________________-

Unexpected Patient

Samantha Craik cursed in her head. She’d have cursed out loud, except she was positive that saying anything out loud right now was not a good idea. Normally this wouldn’t have stopped the fiery red-head, but there were children in this store and the last thing she wanted was for anyone to get hurt on account of her temper. Her blood boiled as these punks pushed through the store, demanding money from people and stealing from the shelves. Stars, Peter was gonna kill her. She should have just gone on to the subway station after her shift at the hospital ended and made do with whatever food they had there instead of stopping for a quick snack.

One of the gang members brandished a knife at her. “Hey—gimmie your money.”

Sam glared at him, but reached into her purse and pulled out her wallet. He swiped it from her, opening it, and then frowning. “This is it?” he said.

“If you think I had money, do you think I’d be working at this hospital?” she shot back at him jabbing a finger towards the hospital’s crest that was on her lab coat. “I’m barely out of residency! I’ve still got loans to pay off!”

“Tch.” The punk looked at her disdainfully. “I’ll make more money hocking this wallet then what you have in it.”

“Well pardon me for being poor!”

The punk gestured with his knife. “Get over there with the others!”

Sam made her way over to the other customers, one of the punks taking a moment to look at her. Sam narrowed her eyes at him. Yeah, she recognized him. He was a Purple Dragon, and he’d been in and out of her ER a few times. Several of these guys had. And yet, here they were, doing the same crap that got them in her ER to begin with.

“Hey—you got that money yet?” the guy called out, clearly their leader.

“Yeah. Getting the last of it now,” a green-haired punk called out.

The leader nodded and turned back to look at them. There weren’t many people in the store. Sam hadn’t expected there to be, not this late. There was the cashier, a teenager who looked far too stoned to properly see the danger everyone was in; a man who appeared to be in his late sixties, leaning heavily on a cane in a way that told Sam he probably was going to need a knee replacement soon; a young immigrant woman and her two children, none of which seemed to understand much English, but clearly understood the gestures with the guns and knives; and her, a thirty-year-old doctor, straight off of what was supposed to be a twelve hour shift that had turned into a fifteen hour one instead, because sometimes that’s just how it was.

Maybe her mother was right, and she should see about transferring to one of the hospitals in the richer areas of the city.

“Hey!” a punk from outside came running in the door. “The nut with the hockey mask is coming! And you know what that means.”

The leader cursed, and Sam found herself really hoping that the kids didn’t understand English.

“I was hoping not to deal with any green freaks tonight. Alright—bag up what we’ve got and let’s get out of here.” He looked at the group. “And just for good measure—”

He leveled the gun at the old man, and Sam realized just what he was about to do. She moved, shoving his arm up. Was it the smartest thing she could have done? No. Was it what she did anyway? Yeah.

“Leave him alone, you fracking jerk!”

The shot missed, pinging on the light fixture instead, and the man growled and tried to shake her off. In for a penny, in for a pound, she figured. Sam threw herself into fighting him, something that she wasn’t completely useless in. But she was no fighter, and it didn’t take long for the punks to have her pinned to the ground, the gun on her.

“Let go of me you fricking punk!” she snarled, still fighting.

“Since you’re so eager,” the leader said, and she could see him aiming the gun at her out of the corner of her eye, “then you can be the example.”

Oh yeah. If she made it through this, her husband was definitely going to kill her.

Still, she growled and struggled, not willing to just give up and give in.

And then the door slammed open, and something burst in.

“It’s the freaks!” someone shouted, and the gun was suddenly off of her and fixated on something else, going off as a fight broke out.

Sam wasn’t a stupid woman, and she knew an opportunity when she saw it. Despite the grip the man that was still holding her had on her long hair, Sam twisted in his grasp, kicked him right in his junk, and then twisted her head to bite the hand that still had her shoulder. The man let out a gasp, and Sam rolled, not getting to her feet, but scrambling back and away from things.

The woman with her children were cowering, and Sam looked them over, trying to find any sort of cultural distinguisher on them. She knew a few words in different languages, and she hoped she guessed the right one.

“Go!” she said, her accent terrible, and pointed towards the storeroom door. The woman’s eyes lit up in understanding, and she grabbed her kids’ hands, speaking rapidly to them and tugging them with her. They all moved like they had escaped violent situations before, but Sam didn’t have time to spare more than an observation about that.

The stoned teenager must have had more sense than she thought, because he was gone, and the old man, seeing where the woman had gone, was already following along. Good. Then it was just her.

And then, suddenly she found herself being yanked backwards by her hair, a strong hand pulling her by her long braid. She had the presence of mind to try to twist around, her hair long enough to give her that freedom, but it didn’t work, and she realized that the leader of the punks had her as he pulled her to him, wrapping an arm around her neck. She struggled, insults pouring from her lips as she did, but she stopped when the gun was put to her head once more.

“No one move, or the lady doctor here gets it,” he said.

Sam twitched in his arms and growled. “Glad to know me saving your scummy life means something. Next time I’ll give it the attention it’s worth!”

“You,” he said, “don’t say nothing either.”

Sam growled again but switched her attention to looking at who else the punk was addressing. Her eyes widened as she took in who—or what—was in front of her. Four green figures, turtles, all wielding some sort of weapons, and a tall, dark-haired man in a hockey mask with a hockey stick in his hands.

Somehow, he looked the most out of place out of all of them.

Sam had heard rumors of the turtle men before. She’d not put much stock into the stories at first. All sorts of crazies came into the ER, especially at night, and some strung out druggie or beat up punk talking about karate turtles just made her double check their toxicology report. You never knew when there was a bad batch on the street.

But the stories persisted, and she heard them from other places as well. She still hadn’t quite put her faith in those stories. It all seemed like some sort of gimmick to her. But now that the proof was in front of her, well, she couldn’t help but conclude that maybe she should have paid a bit more attention to those rumors.

“Let her go,” the one with the blue mask said. “She’s an innocent.”

“If she hadn’t of interfered, we’d have been gone before you four freaks got—wait, why are there only three of you,” the leader snarled.

And that was when everything went even more wrong than it had so far.

The Dragon went to move his gun from her head to point at one of the turtle men. Sam took the opportunity to jerk her head forward to bite the arm that held her in place and reached back to grab him in a very personal way and twist. At the same time, something came flying out of the air and embedded itself in the Dragon’s hand. A turtle-man leapt forward and tackled her down and out of the way. And at the same time, the gun went off.

The Dragon howled in pain, there was a shout of pain from the opposite direction, and someone screaming “Donnie!” A thud came from the direction of the Dragon, a clack from the direction of the turtle men, and the turtle man that had tackled her out of the way and had somehow kept from squishing her, came up on his feet, setting her on hers before he rushed over towards the turtle Sam could now see being supported by the man, his red mask tails streaking out behind him.

“What the he—” Sam said, mostly to herself as she took in the scenes in front of her.

The turtle with the blue mask stood over the downed Dragon. The man was clearly bleeding out, and Sam was more than a little certain that there was nothing do to save him. A turtle man with an orange mask was hurrying from the direction of the counter towards the other two turtles and the man. The man was lowering a purple-masked turtle to the ground, clearly supporting him.

Well, it seemed pretty clear what she needed to do.

Shaking off her shock and falling back into her professional mindset, Sam hurried forward.

“Move,” she said bluntly, watching as they settled the purple-masked one—Donnie, she presumed—on the ground, the orange-masked one using his lap as a pillow for the other. She could hear the blue-masked one’s footsteps behind her.

The red-masked one whirled on her, clearly upset, his strange, pronged weapons held in his hands. “Look, sister—” he started.

Sam was having none of it. “I said, move!” she snapped at him. “I’m a doctor, I can help! Unless you’ve got a better idea?”

“Let her see Don, Raph,” Leo said. “She might can help him where we can’t.”

Raph seemed to want to resist for a moment, but he stepped back and Sam moved next to the injured turtle.

“It’s not too bad,” Donnie was saying through grit teeth. His hands were already at his thigh, trying to tie a tourniquet around it.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she said, reaching into her scrub pockets and pulling out a pair of gloves. She pushed her long braid behind her shoulders, pulled the gloves on, and got to work.

“Donnie, right?” said as she worked.

“Y-yeah.”

“Alright. And the rest of you?”

“I’m Mikey,” the orange-masked one said.

“Leo,” the blue-masked one offered.

“Raph,” the one with the red mask said.

“Casey,” the only other human said.

“Alright. I’m Dr. Samantha Craik. I work in the hospital down the road,” she said. She looked up at Donnie. “I’m going to take good care of you, alright? But I’m gonna need some information. I’m not familiar with turtles, much less whatever you are.”

Don chuckled a little, but then stopped when it hurt. “I’ll see what I can do, Doc,” he said, clearly trying to breathe through the pain.

Sam just nodded. “I’m assuming you don’t want to go to the hospital?” she said.

“No.” The answer came quick and sure from Leo, and Sam nodded.

“Alright. In that case, here’s what I need.”

The store had the most of the things she needed and Donnie’s bag helpfully provided the rest. Donnie had gotten lucky. The bullet hadn’t hit anything important, and it was fairly clean in-and-out wound. Ideally, she’s have hopped him up on painkillers, taken some scans, put him on a broad-spectrum antibiotic, and gotten him some blood, but none of that was possible at the moment.

Instead, she snapped out orders to the other turtle-men, sterilized things as best she could, and got to work, cursing the Purple Dragons with every spare breath she had.

“Idiotic low-life—hold his leg still—punks who can’t figure out that—keep that pressure!—that all they’re gonna have is a short and—this is gonna hurt, Donnie—violent life where no one will ever want to remember them—you’re doing good—and they’ll either—almost done with this side—die young or rot in prison—”

“I kinda like you,” Raph said to her.

“I’ll add that to my resume,” she shot back immediately, not even thinking about it. Mikey laughed, but it seemed to ease the turtles and their human friend a bit.

Finally, she sat back, putting things away and stripping off her gloves. “There,” she said. She looked over at Leo, as he seemed the most responsible of the bunch. “He needs to stay off of it. I don’t know if you have access to antibiotics, but those can’t hurt. Keep it clean and wrapped. Those stitches will have to be taken out, so—”

“We can handle that,” Leo said. “We’ve done it before.”

“Although it’s usually Donnie doing this kind of stuff,” Mikey said.

“I’ll… be able to do it… by then…” Donnie said, his face still pinched in pain.

Sam nodded. “Fine.” She hesitated. “If you need anything, come find me. Something tells me you don’t have a lot of medical access.” She looked around and picked up a discarded piece of cardboard and pulled a pen out of her pocket. “Here. That’s my number. Call me. Or come to the hospital and ask for me, or Peter Craik—my husband,” she said at Leo’s look.

He took the number and tucked it into his belt, even as Raph was kneeling in front of Donnie, shell to him as Mikey and Casey helped Don sit up. In the distance sirens sounded.

“We will,” he said. “Thank you, Dr. Craik. But for now, we have to go. Raph?”

“Good to go,” Raph said, standing up with Donnie clinging to his shell.

“See ya, doc!” Mikey said with a wave.

The four of them headed out the back, but Casey hesitated for a moment. “Ya good, Doc?”

Sam sighed. “Well, someone has to stay behind and explain this—and something tells me that you shouldn’t be here anymore than them.”

“Heh. Maybe,” Casey said. “Seriously, though, thanks Doc.” He headed out the back as well, following behind, leaving Sam standing in the middle of the store with a dead Purple Dragon and several that were tied up—although she had no idea when that had happened.

She sighed and sat down on the floor as the sirens got closer. This was going to be a mess.

Sam was right. It was a mess. She had to explain over and over again that some vigilantes had come in and saved them, that one had gotten wounded, and that she had done her best to treat him, as per her oath, but that, no, she didn’t know what they looked like under their masks and that, no, she had no idea who they were or where they had gone. By the time it was all over with and the police accepted her statement, the sun was up, and her husband was waiting on her.

“Sam!” he said, rushing towards her. “Are you alright?”

“I’m tired, my hair is a mess, I had my life threatened, I had to do field medicine, and I’ve not slept in nearly twenty-four hours,” she snapped. “What do you think?”

Peter just grinned at her. “I think that, if you’re snapping like that at me, that you’re probably alright. Let’s get out of here.”

The two left the police station, and headed home, Peter holding Sam’s hand. They were quiet for a moment, and then, softly, Peter murmured to her.

“So, are you going to tell me what really happened?”

Sam didn’t answer for a moment. “…when we get home,” she said.

“Why didn’t you tell the police?” he asked, not condemning, but clearly curious.

“Because sometimes, ‘do no harm’ is more than just the patient’s body,” Sam said irritably.

Peter laughed. “And that’s why I love you,” he said.

“Because I take my oath seriously?” Sam demanded, shooting him a look.

Peter grinned at her. “Because when you’ve decided something’s your duty, nothing can stop you—especially if it’s for the good of your patients.”

Sam harumphed, but he wasn’t wrong, she reflected. And as they walked down the street and down into the subway station she should have entered into last night, Sam wondered if she’d ever see those particular patients again.

After all, a good doctor always followed up.

#tmntwritefight #tmntwritefight fic #tmnt #tmnt 2003 #tmnt 2k3 #outsider POV #OC

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iamnotoriginalphil · 2 years ago

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School Reunion (Larissa Weems x f!Reader)

Synopsis: Larissa needs help, leading to you taking up the role of her girlfriend for a night

Words: 2.8k

Warnings: mentions of alcohol

You hesitated knocking on the door. You’d been stopped on your way to the dining hall by Larissa’s assistant. You’d been told she’d locked herself in her office, cancelled all her appointments and had been heard pacing for the last few hours. It wasn’t hard to figure out something had happened.

The trouble was, it was well known that in these situations you were the only one who was able to calm her down again. You didn’t know if it was your long standing friendship or your presence being calming, but you could usually talk her off the edge of the cliff. This time though, you weren’t quite sure what you’d find. She was usually so much better about not letting it occur during the work day, saving it for after hours when she wasn’t trying to run the school.

Sighing, you knocked. You ignored the muffled shout at you to go away, pressing your hand to the doorknob and concentrating until you heard it click.

Inside the office wasn’t quite the war zone you were expecting. Larissa was halfway between her desk and the door, fury on her face. You ignored her, closing the door with a soft click and locking it again, mostly for her comfort.

“I told you to go away,” she snarled.

“Yes. You were quite forceful about it,” you said.

“Not forceful enough it seems.”

She resumed her pacing and you took a moment to watch her. Even in this state of anger she still managed to make your heart pound double time. You had never told her, but somewhere between being her employee and being her friend, you’d managed to fall for her so completely it was like no one else existed for you.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on or should I just open the wine?” you asked.

She waved her hand at you and you waited patiently. It wasn’t an answer, and if she wanted something from you she had to say it. Her steps slowed and she sighed.

“It’s our thirty year reunion this weekend,” she said, “and Morticia just RSVP’d that she and Gomez will be attending.”

“You assumed they wouldn’t?” you asked, finally venturing further into the room.

“They haven’t to any before now. Not that I’ve been to any either, but I can hardly miss it now it’s going to be occurring here,” she said, sinking down into one of the chairs in front of the fire. She buried her face in her hands.

“And you don’t want to see her.” It wasn’t a question, but she nodded anyway.

“She has the perfect life. Rich, beautiful, and married after playing with my heart while we were all at school together” You ignored the disappointment and jealousy rearing its ugly head, “I don’t want her to see me still alone.”

“Well, you could always bring a date,” you replied, slipping into the other chair.

She snorted, “right. Sure. Who’d go with me to my school reunion?”

“I would.”

She turned to look at you, eyes widening. You hadn’t meant to say it but now you were going to stick by your guns. You’d love to be her date. You really wanted to be her date.

“We’ll just pretend I’m your girlfriend or wife or whatever,” you said, “they’ll never know. Rub it in their faces that you have someone and you’re happy and successful and killing it.”

“You’d really do that for me?” Hope filled her face and all you wanted to do was agree to anything that would keep that look on her face.

“Of course.”

Which is all to explain how you found yourself standing in the decorated hall, watching Larissa greet some of her old schoolmates. Resplendent in a bright red dress, skin tight, showing off every curve, watching her was making your mouth water and your heart beat double time. Your fingers itched to touch her.

Purely under the guise of being her girlfriend for the night, of course.

You knew the moment Morticia and Gomez entered the room, her entire body stiffening. You turned, plucking up two glasses of wine, wending your way through the crowd.

“And this is truly a show stopping dress,” you heard Morticia say. The smile turned brittle on Larissa’s face.

“I thought it was time for a top up,” you said, sidling up to her side.

She turned, relief flooding her face. You passed over the glass of wine, biting down on your lip when her fingers brushed yours. Shaking it off, you slid your arm around her waist, relaxing as hers came to rest around your shoulders.

“You must be Morticia,” you said, turning to the other woman who’s eyebrows had risen in surprise, “Larissa has told me so much about you.”

“Nothing untrue,” Larissa replied and you looked up at her, knowing every single thing she’d said about Morticia and how little of it had been kind.

“Larissa, I was unaware you had such a captivating paramour,” Morticia said, offering you what you were sure she thought was a winning smile. You could see it, if she’d been your type, but you were more interested in a very specific type of woman.

“Yes, we have kept it rather discreet,” she replied, with a small laugh, “we can hardly act as teenagers and maintain our professionalism.”

“As long as it’s not due to any shame,” Morticia said, also laughing. Larissa’s fingers tightened on your shoulder. You had to bite back a growl at the implication. As if anyone would be ashamed of Larissa.

“I am so glad to hear you’ve found as much happiness as I have with my darling Tish,” Gomez said, stepping forward to join the conversation.

Morticia turned, hand coming to cup his cheek. He gazed up at her with a doting look on his face and she murmured something under her breath to him before their lips met. You looked away, having no wish to witness that.

“So how did you two love birds meet?” Morticia asked once they resurfaced.

“I began working here at Nevermore,” you said, glancing up at the woman in your arms.

“And I was smitten from the first moment,” Larissa said.

“How could anyone turn down this woman?” you asked, knowing full well she’d been turned down by the very woman instigating the conversation, “she is nothing less than incredible.”

She turned to look down at you, eyes widening a touch in surprise. You smiled up at her, shuffling just a little closer to nudge her. Her answering smile could light up the room.

“It is so nice to see it finally working out for you, Larissa,” Morticia said, interrupting the moment.

You both turned to look at her in tandem. You pressed yourself against her side, not bothering with propriety, just wanting the barbed digs from her ex to stop. She didn’t deserve to be talked to that way. Her hand on your shoulder tightened, almost painfully.

“I suppose it just took until finding the right person,” she replied, “it’s made everything else worth going through to find her.”

“I wouldn’t want anyone else,” you said, the words nothing but truth.

The way she looked at you, you were worried she’d heard the truth ringing in them. You bit down on your lower lip, her eyes flicking down to it. Heat coursed through your veins. It was all beginning to feel a little too real.

“Truly a real life miracle for you, Larissa,” Morticia interrupted before you could expose yourself any more than you already had.

Something in Larissa’s face tightened as she turned back to her old friend. She opened her mouth just as the song changed.

“Oh I love this song,” you said brightly, as if the whole conversation hadn’t been full of landmines, “may I have this dance, sweetheart?”

She plucked the wine glass from your hand.

“Would you mind?” she said, passing them over to Morticia without waiting for an answer.

She threaded her fingers through yours, tugging you onto the dance floor. You slipped your arms around her neck, grinning as her hands settled on your waist, a touch unsure.

“You’re doing amazing,” you murmured, just loud enough to hear you over the music.

“Really?” You hated how unsure she sounded.

“You’ve got this,” you said, “and I’m right here with you through it all.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” There was so much wonder in her face. Your heart skipped a beat and for a moment you forgot it was all fake.

You swayed to the music, focusing at something over your shoulder if only to keep from getting lost in her eyes. You just had to get through the weekend without your heart getting too entangled. Her hands slid down to your hips, tugging you half a step closer.

“What are you thinking about?”

She was still looking at you as if she wanted to unpack every little thing about you. You shook your head.

“Nothing,” you replied.

“I lost you there for a moment.”

“I was caught up thinking about how wonderful spending this time with you is,” you said, smiling at her, hoping she wouldn’t read how many feelings were behind it.

“Careful, I’ll grow used to hearing these things from you and then you’ll never be rid of me,” she said, smiling too.

“I hope I am never rid of you.”

Her eyes sparkled and something shifted in her face. Your thumb brushed against her pulse point and her eyelids fluttered closed. She seemed to tense under your touch. You drew your hands back.

“Sorry,” you said, not able to look at her.

“No, it’s okay,” she said, grip on your hips tightening, “it’s all part of the ruse, right?”

“Of course.” Your heart dropped.

You placed your hands back on her shoulders, swaying in time with the music, but the bubble was broken. Of course she was just playing the part of doting girlfriend, any truth was coming all from your side. Someone as amazing as her deserved so much better than you.

“Do you want another drink?” she asked.

“God, yes,” you sighed, “please.”

Her hand was warm in yours as she led you off the dance floor. You rested your head against her shoulder as she got you a cup of the punch. She turned, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear after passing you the cool glass. She lent towards you, breath ghosting over your skin. You shivered as her lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

“Morticia seems to be furious,” she whispered, “who knew you were such an accomplished actress?”

You turned your head, nose brushing against her cheek. You were so close you could kiss her. You wanted to. The desperation must have been showing on your face. She pressed a lingering kiss to your cheek, so close to the corner of your mouth. You took a shaky breath in you were sure she must have heard it.

“She keeps looking over at us,” she murmured as she drew back.

“I’m glad we’re putting no a good show then,” you replied, almost keeping your voice steady.

She quirked an eyebrow at you but you didn’t have an answer for her. Instead you took a drink from your glass, a small dribble coming out the corner of your mouth. She chuckled, thumb swiping away the wetness along your lips.

You didn’t think, nipping at the pad of her thumb. A pretty blush bloomed over her cheeks and her eyes darkened. Your eyes widened and your breath stilled. The way she was looking at you made you tremble. You felt heat bloom low in your stomach.

“You love birds look as if you’re in need of some privacy.”

You jerked away from Larissa, heart hammering in your chest. You couldn’t bare to look at either her or Morticia as you tried to wrestle your control back. It wasn’t happening.

“I know you’re concerned about students but there are no students here,” Morticia continued when it became clear she wasn’t going to get an answer, “surely you can give your love a kiss instead of forcing her to wait.”

“Some of us have more self discipline than others, Morticia,” Larissa replied, a hand slipping around your waist, resting on the swell of your hip, “our relationship is not on display for everyone.”

“Just one little kiss,” Morticia wheedled, “unless perhaps you’ve been overstating your relationship.”

It was a goading attack but you knew the moment Larissa made her mind up. Stiffening beside you, you turned to tell off Morticia. A warm hand cupped your cheek, turning you further towards Larissa.

You froze under the brush of her lips. She kissed you harder and you couldn’t do anything but wait for it to be done. Once she drew back your heart began hammering again.

“I’m sorry, I have to…”

You couldn’t look at them, unable to form a proper excuse before you turned on your heels and strode out of the room. You didn’t know where you were going, only knowing you needed some space from the woman you could still taste on your lips.

The night air hit you like a truck as you emerged in the quad. You took a shuddering breath in, stopping, wrapping your arms around yourself. Tears gathered in your eyes and all you could do was curse yourself for agreeing to this, knowing it would ruin your heart.

The air changed and you knew someone was behind you. Larissa said your name, achingly apologetic. You shook your head, refusing to turn around.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, “we never discussed if that was okay and I overstepped. I lose all control when it comes to her. It’s like I see red. I’m so sorry for allowing you to end up on the receiving end of that.”

“It’s okay,” you said, hating how choked up you sounded.

“Clearly it’s not.

“It’s not important,” you said, “I’m sorry if I ruined it with Morticia.”

“I don’t care about that.”

Strong hands landed on your shoulders, turning you to look at her. Fingers on your chin lifted your face until you were looking at her and it was like your chest broke open at the expression on her face. Her thumb brushed over your cheek, wiping away the tears.

“I care about you being okay.”

“I’ll be fine,” you replied, “you should go back in. Give my apologies. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

“You haven’t ruined anything,” she said, “please tell me what’s wrong. Please.”

“I shouldn’t have said suggested this. I wanted to help you out so desperately but I knew it was a bad idea,” you said.

“It was a wonderful idea, darling,” she replied, cutting you off before you could continue.

“Not for me. I just…” You squeezed your eyes closed, “Larissa, I have feelings for you and I know you don’t feel the same but pretending with you is killing me. I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

“Who said I don’t feel the same?”

Your eyes snapped open. She was looking down at you, still worried but there was a smile curling the corner of her mouth.

“What?”

“Darling, I’m hardly going to agree to pose as a couple with someone I didn’t have feelings for. I thought you were the one pretending for my sake,” she replied.

“I don’t…” You couldn’t wrap your mind around what she was saying.

“You’re my entire world, darling. And I’d really like to kiss you for real now.”

You didn’t give her the chance. You pulled her down into a bruising kiss, laughing and crying and unable to stop. She was kissing you back, her tongue stroking along your bottom lip until you gasped and it swept into your mouth. You were clutching at her and everything was so intense it was making your entire mind blank.

“See, cara mia, I told you they were okay.”

You broke away, peeking over her shoulder. Gomez and Morticia were standing in the doorway, watching the two of you. Morticia’s lips were pressed together and her hand appeared to be gripping Gomez’s arm tightly. He, however, was smiling.

“I think Morticia was right,” you said. Larissa turned to look at you sharply, “I think we do need some privacy.”

Her face broke into a bright smile, her thumb brushing away the last of your tears. You hummed, slipping your hand into hers and dragging her past the Addams couple with a bright smile and a murmured goodnight.

The mingled anger and jealousy on Morticia’s face was just the cherry on top of the cake.

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems imagine #larissa weems #principal weems x reader #principal weems imagine

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noowayybroo · 9 months ago

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Leon x ImpliedF!Creature!Reader - little drabble (SFW)

Ok so like imagine if YOU are the bioweapon / demon / creature whatever, but of course you're a little more humanoid... Humanoid enough for Leon to perhaps... catch feelings...? I was minding my business trying to do coursework when this lodged itself in my brain, mostly older Leon. *drools*

Warnings: Reader is described as monstrous, and called names like "princess" and "Beautiful" but it's more of a coping mechanism for Leon. Mentions of violence, fear and death. Mentions of guns and things. Leon is technically there to kill you. (But he can't)

Leon might call you things like pretty, beautiful, princess etc mockingly so sorry it's implied that the reader is female or at least feminine in appearance, but he could also just be mocking you if you are masculine idk. This is just how deliciously I think some of the Leons would react to seeing / being cornered by a creature heheh.

Re2 Leon:

-Could either be before, after or instead of Raccoon City because no amount of zombies and lickers could prepare him for you.

-He does have a weapon: a gun which he shakily holds towards you. He's so soft and pliable he may as well be handing his firearm to you. Certainly not a threat. You're huge and he doesn't know where to aim, at your head, at your chest, maybe at a leg? It's all a blur to him. His head spins.

-His eyes are wide, sweat sticking his fringe to his forehead as he slowly steps back, seconds away from stumbling. Once he presses himself against a cold wall, as cold as he fears he might be in a few minutes, he swallows hard.

-He's babbling, praying. Begging. Hoping that somehow you might understand him, and should you do so, that you'd let him go. You hadn't attacked him yet, so maybe there was a chance.

-You looked so... big. So imposing. He imagined bullets feeling like splinters to your toughened skin. But the way you stood so still, picturesque, almost like a statue, it had him questioning what was going on inside your head.

-Your lack of movement has him pinned, and his breath slowly calms after the initial shock of seeing you. He can see it in your eyes- the calculated cunning. The hunger. He expects you to lunge at him at any second.

-"So this is what mice feel like" he thinks to himself, voice and heartbeat astoundingly loud in his ears, but he dares not say anything aloud. He doesn't want to tempt you... or to infuriate you.

-He would run. Holy shit he wants to run, but one look at your legs and he knows he's toast. So, he decides to stay as still as possible. Maybe if he makes himself look friendly, you'll go easy. You certainly weren't tearing him to shreds... yet.

-After a while of you continuing to stand there, he slowly lowers his gun.

Perhaps staying still and acting docile really did better his chances.

Perhaps that's what you were waiting for.

Re4 Leon:

-Also has his gun trained on you from the get-go, but his eyes are sharper. He scrutinises you, looking for that sweet spot. He's ready to strike and plans on doing so before you can.

-He takes in your form, memorising it. Perhaps he'll be made to fight something like you again. He notes how your eyes follow the barrel of his gun as it slowly drifts its aim between your vital organs. So you're somewhat intelligent.

-You twitch a muscle, and he straightens his aim, demeanour becoming more serious. He's done playing now. Your stillness threw him off for a second. He licks his lips and tenses, staring right down the barrel. But he's not sure what a bullet would even do to you. It might just infuriate you if anything.

-So he wants to see what you can do, because he's seen nothing like you before. He can see those talons of yours, ready to strike at close proximity. If he has any chance of taking you down, he should probably do so from a distance. Lickers taught him that.

-He notes the way your eyes widen just a smidge as he takes one step back. And more when he takes another. But you're not just observant. You're excited. He can see that hunger in your eyes. So that's what you want. A chase.

-He indulges, fighting the sly smile that his own exhilaration leaves on his lips. "Hope you can keep up, big guy!" He calls out to you, already turn-tailing it in the opposite direction.

-You had gone tense all over, almost holding your breath. Excited, thrilled to be able to chase him, and now, he'd finally given you the opportunity. But as he leaves you in the dust, you stay still. You knew you'd catch up easily. It's fun to watch him run. More useful to have him exert himself.

-Actually falls for it, and for a while thinks you won't chase him until he hears heavy, bounding steps after him. Things suddenly got a lot more real, and you're gaining on him fast. He swallows down hard and scans his surroundings, improvising on how to kill, or at least, lose you.

-For now, though, he'll let you enjoy this chase. He's hoping it'll be your last.

Re4 + (umbrellla term cuz Ik nothing abt older leon canon wise):

-Almost sick of life, he takes a minute to eye you up and down with a 'really?' look, as if he's fed up of finding new things that want to kill him. His eyebrow raises in disbelief before his gun does.

"Well... Who do we have here then?" His tone is flat, rhetorical. Underlying, though, there is some curiosity.

-Glares at you, silently, pathetically, willing you not to move. He's fighting back a strange bubbling excitement. He's faced so many weird and cool, deadly creatures just like you, but none have been quite as captivating as you. He could tell you were intelligent by the way you eyed his finger on the trigger. He could see you were strong and likely fast just by looking at you.

-And he hadn't seen claws like that on anything but a licker. In his twisted mind, you were a bit like a licker that left the skin and some of your personality on, and for that he was grateful. He lets out a low chuckle and without hesitation aims his gun straight between your eyes.

-His teeth grit. He's ready to shoot. He's not too happy about it but he might as well get it over and done with. Can he kill you? Doesn't matter. In this line of work, he's gonna shoot first, pay the price later. It hasn't killed him... yet.

-He's gotten sick of killing things, though. It never brought him any joy. (And he's not going to admit that he doesn't think he can beat you) so he thinks he'll give you the benefit of the doubt. Diverting his aim for a split second he fires a warning shot just by you, hoping maybe you'll have second thoughts.

-Instead you flinch, snarling before slowly approaching him. Your heavy steps are loud, as is your low grumble, and he starts to back away cautiously. "Now now, princess, let's talk about this, yeah?" he hums, one arm up in a defensive position. His voice is thick and gravelly, if not a little shaky. He tried to sound tough and dominant, but there was an element of begging. You certainly approved. "I'd hate to make an enemy of something so pretty."

-If you could understand his words, you'd either swoon or become enraged, but that's for you to decide. Really, though, you can tell he's scared. You just have no idea when flirting with the giant creature that's about to tear out your ribcage was ever a good idea.

-Your claws are raised, ready to strike. You wouldn't soon forget the way he swallows thickly, peering up at you through his fringe. At least he had enough respect to look even a little anxious. He takes a few more steps backwards, giving you a side eye while he quickly checks behind him for an escape route, and so as to not trip.

-"Really, beautiful? We can't just talk about this?" A nervous chuckle. Like talking to a brick wall. It's hopeless, he's hopeless, but you can't blame an old man for trying. You just have to take it out on his knees, don't you?

-Tries to line up a good shot, tongue poking out, eyes squinting as he does, but he doesn't like how close your claws are getting, and decides to leg it. You give chase almost instantly, but barely try and keep up. You want to tire him out, and he has no idea just how easy you're going on him.

-"Didn't like my pickup lines, then?" he wheezes as he runs at a pace he believes to be fast enough to keep out of the way of your claws, but not too fast as to tire himself out too quickly. He's getting old.

-He fires some warning shots behind himself towards you. They were meant to hit, really, but his aim was poor. His breath quickly starts running short. Maybe this is the end after all.

"I gotta stop drinking" he grumbles, ducking round a corner.

Living rent free in my head is the concept of Leon x a creature immensely out of his league in terms of power. He could be scared, in awe, trying to kill it, idk idc I just love it PLEASE can someone tell me they like it too?? I'm going insane.

Also just remembered I'm still writing that leon x demon fic. One day, guys, one day. (saying this more for myself) k bye!

#resident evil #leon kennedy #re leon #re4 leon #leon s kennedy #resident evil leon #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy fanfic #resident evil x reader #resident evil 6 #resident evil: degeneration #resident evil 4leon #subby leon

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bladekindeyewear · 3 months ago

Text

HS^2 bloggin’ mainline 2024-08-15 continued #2

(Previous post - current page 631)

I should keep it at three liveblog posts at most per day for pacing purposes, so however long this post ends up being (which could still be pretty long, image limit forgiving!), this'll be where I stop it for the day whatever happens so I don't push my mental energy reserves too hard. Now let's see exactly what the fuck Jane was referring to here.

(==>)

JANE: I'm referring to his death. DIRK: (Oh, what the fuck.) JANE: Not saying it's all your fault. DIRK: (Wow.)

Oh that's all SORTS of messed up for her to think.

JANE: Dirk just never *got* you. JANE: He thought he could figure you out, make all the right moves, and you'd be happy. JANE: But people have to want themselves to be happy. JANE: And the only thing you've ever consistently wanted was to be absolved. JANE: I understand that now.

She's not ENTIRELY wrong about Jake's insecurities here, but there were people constantly KNOCKING HIM DOWN by BLAMING HIM FOR THINGS that he then helplessly thought DESERVED his absolution when they were NEVER HIS FAULT, and this couldn't be a more obvious example. Which Jake might fucking recognize and snap the fuck at.

JAKE: ... And? JANE: And I accept you, Jake! JANE: That's why I have confidence our union will endure forever. JANE: You release me of all my doubts. And I can't be disappointed by you. JAKE: Huh... DIRK: (Hm.)

I think Jake isn't coming around to Jane here, really, but actually coming around to HOW FUCKED UP she is, and more importantly, HOW SHE FUCKED HIM UP. The idea that Jane Crocker, never once, actually BELIEVED in him other than believing that he would be OBLIGATED to come back to her, even if she wasn't offering really anything in return in their relationship. He finally got it through his thick head that she was always taking him for granted, isn't he? That even her deepest, most "caring" feelings left for him are pity for someone she's viewed for the longest time as incorrigibly pathetic and not useful for anything except coming back to her?

JANE: I... JANE: Oh, fucking... pixie sticks. JANE: I have to leave for the bridge. JANE: The enemy is moving into position as we speak. JAKE: Do you... JAKE: Do you still need that water tested? JANE: Haha, no. JANE: I drank it all in my hysterics without even noticing. JAKE: And youre okay? JANE: Completely fine! It really was just... water. JAKE: I had hoped! JANE: Hoo hoo, thank you. :B JANE: ...

I don't know if Jake is really feeling sympathy or negative revelation about her, here... or possibly a combination of the two.

JANE: Listen, Jake. JANE: I won't be able to really talk for some time once this whole final battle shebang kicks off, but I need you to know. JANE: I am sorry. JANE: For a lot of things. JANE: I promise. JANE: I just need you to believe in me a little while longer. JAKE: Of course janey... of course. JAKE: I... love you. JANE: I know, J. JANE: I know.

No... you finally proved to him that you're not WORTH BELIEVING IN.

That's what I think he's about to discuss with himself (and BGD).

(Jake: Calmly assess the situation.)

PFFFFF OMG AFTER THAT LINK TITLE XD

JAKE: Fuck!!! JAKE: Why did she have to go and build a moon laser!!! JAKE: Why did she have to go and JAKE: And SAY all that!!!

Hearing her open up with heartfelt feelings, towards HIM, for the first time in what feels like forever, likely has him so conflicted now even though he KNOWS what has to happen.

DIRK: It's not over. DIRK: That moon laser doesn't mean shit. JAKE: ...if theres no one to press the button? DIRK: Boom. DIRK: Or, you know. DIRK: No boom. JAKE: Her guard is down... DIRK: And you have a gun. JAKE: I have TWO guns. DIRK: Let's be real, this wouldn't even be the first time you've thought of it. JAKE: Its... an option.

He hasn't thought of going after the laser ITSELF yet, but he needs to remember he's a God-Tier Hero of Hope and that destroying a moon laser is a whole lot easier than destroying the woman he still feels something for. He'll come around in this conversation, likely.

DIRK: Or. DIRK: You help her win the battle. DIRK: Avoid baptizing the Earth with laser-fire. DIRK: And she uses The Point, and the world doesn't end. DIRK: Probably. DIRK: Who the fuck knows. JAKE: What should i do? DIRK: I'm not gonna tell you.

Even though he's talking to Dirk, he's also still in a sense only talking to himself.

JAKE: I already know youll want me to do whats heroic. JAKE: But you wouldnt want me to kill jane either. JAKE: Would you? DIRK: Stop staring at me like I'm gonna tongue-kiss the answer into you, dude. DIRK: You know what you need to do. JAKE: But jane was right about me! JAKE: I cant be trusted. JAKE: I dont even like 99% of people. DIRK: Then do it for one person. DIRK: Aren't you tired of spreading yourself thin trying to believe in everything? DIRK: Because it's looking pretty fuckin' likely that the future where Tavvy is happy and the future where Jane is alive don't coincide. DIRK: You have to kill one for the other to survive.

Now THIS is Rage talk from Dirk here. This isn't HOPE talk. Jake is going to realize that there's hope for BOTH people he cares about to survive... and all he has to do is think of flying into space and destroying a freakin' moon laser. The Page of Hope come into his role is going to be someone who can find a path of possibility that saves what they care about without Dirk's brand of brutal compromise.

JAKE: It sounds like youre gunning for her. DIRK: It sounds like *you're* gunning for her. DIRK: Say what you will about Dirk, but he always wanted you to be your best self. DIRK: He pushed you hoping if he did it hard enough, you'd push back. DIRK: That's a far cry from whatever neutered domestic purgatory Jane's offering you. DIRK: Wasn't it nice to be believed in, man? JAKE: Ugh.

Dirk was never good for him either, and didn't know the right way TO help Jake become his best self other than inflicting cuts to his soul that only delayed and decreased his capacity to believe in himself.

JAKE: Can i make an honest query? JAKE: Did i really kill him? DIRK: Hm. JAKE: I did, didnt i? DIRK: Common sense says no. JAKE: Cant you swing that one by your esoteric telepathic dirk connection? DIRK: That's a tricky fuckin' wicket, man. JAKE: Its "sticky wicket". DIRK: It's nothing, because that's a stupid fucking phrase cooked up by fake people about a fake sport from a dead planet. DIRK: Anyway, it's tricky because there's not really all that much of anything left of the big man. DIRK: Not here, anyway. JAKE: Oh, baloney! JAKE: Thats not how this works. Youre the supernatural tsaheylu of our combined "steezes". JAKE: This isnt my first ride in the rodeo, mister, I KNOW THE RHYTHM OF THIS BUCKING BRONCO. JAKE: HES STILL HERE, DAMMIT! DIRK: I'm sorry.

Given what we saw with alt!Calliope / AL splitting and reforming, it's indeed likely that he ISN'T still here, that he's practically fully consolidated himself into Ultimate Dirk aside from this leftover memory Jake is keeping just barely alive. But we also know that thanks to his narrative powers, and his immediate response in the bonus material to Yiffy's sudden existence in the (Candy) plot, that part of him is at least AWARE of that plotline and some of what's happening outside of Canon, even if he's too far away to influence it.

This is also likely about Jake accepting Dirk's death and moving on, though. Because Dirk's eliminationist "one or the other, but not both" advice and insistence on sacrifice isn't what he needs right now.

Maybe it's time for Brain Ghost Dirk to disappear?

(==>)

DIRK: He's gone, dude.

Oh damn, the eyes. It's exactly as he said: This Candy timeline's Brain Ghost Dirk was always just a part of Jake. Just the memory of his friend alive within him, him talking to himself.

Jake has to accept his friend's death to move past his brand of advice, the advice he counted on of a friend who was in ways toxic to him and couldn't lead him to true Hope.

JAKE: OH FUCK OFF. JAKE: YOU CHARLATAN. DIRK: Yeah. JAKE: HORSES ASS. DIRK: Get it all out, man. JAKE: YOU MALEVOLENT MASCULINE MALFEASANT. DIRK: I know a crisp glass of personal culpability isn't what you ordered, but hey. DIRK: It's better than relapsing.

You did pick a hell of a time to show him this, but you probably picked the right time, at least.

DIRK: It'd be the only reasonable excuse you'd have for nipping this uncomfortable epiphany in the bud so you could slink back to following orders from Dirk. JAKE: ... JAKE: Gods hooks, i backflipped right into my old ways! DIRK: Don't beat yourself up about it. It's a running theme with literally everybody we know. DIRK: You all get caught up in these feeling jams, hugging it out in self-realizational bliss. DIRK: Then, bam. DIRK: Premature ejaculation. DIRK: That passionate growth grind ends before it builds to anything actually satisfying. JAKE: :(

Jake needs to stop imagining there's someone telling him what to do anymore, and decide for himself, saying goodbye to his ghostly imaginary guide he made for himself with his powers. (Also Dirk's metaphors are always gonna Dirk, even when Jake's just imitating them.)

DIRK: You're fully dressed Jake now. DIRK: Sitting on the sticky floor of a custodial closet, hidden away from anything certain and good in this world. DIRK: Alone. JAKE: This is scary! I dont like this. DIRK: Fuck yeah it is. This is sweaty, achey, burning transformation, brother. JAKE: I want to go back! I want to be the other guy again. DIRK: You can't be the other guy anymore, Jake. DIRK: We're sending him upstate to live on a beautiful farm, where they're gonna immediately drag him out back and put him out of his fucking misery. DIRK: Remember when you told Egbert you wanted someone to hold you accountable? JAKE: No. DIRK: Well. JAKE: Nooooooo. DIRK: "Here's Johnny!" JAKE: AAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!! JAKE: Oh... JAKE: *sniff* JAKE: Oh, dirk...

Finally accepting his friend's death AND his need to act for himself instead of being told what to do isn't an easy thing to do all at once.

JAKE: Cripes, if there really is no magical component to all of this, JAKE: if youre really gone, JAKE: then i am simply a forty year old man... being led by the nose... by an imaginary friend. JAKE: That is not cute. DIRK: It's kind of cute. JAKE: No! JAKE: Its mental illness! DIRK: It can be both.

And you DO have literal godly magic powers helping you do it, if you've forgotten, Jake.

DIRK: Look. DIRK: What you need to do is stop sobbing into your own fucking arms and make a decision. DIRK: Spying for the rebellion, running away... these were steps in the right direction, but they also had, y'know. JAKE: Plausible deniability. DIRK: They were deflections. DIRK: And at the end of the day, that's what choosing Jane would be, too. JAKE: Its odd, but... JAKE: Shucks, i dont want to cut her down right before she makes this big turnaround. JAKE: If shed decided to keep her promise... JAKE: thatd be bitter fucking berries to live with. DIRK: But? JAKE: But she probably wont change, will she? DIRK: Why in the fuck would she? DIRK: She'll have won.

But that also doesn't mean you NEED to kill her. There's a path to Hope that you haven't seen yet and that Dirk can't help you see. (Destroy the space laser destroy the space laser destroy the space laser. FIGURE IT OUT)

(==>)

JAKE: But... i dont think she was meant to be this way. Do you? DIRK: Like, was she born to be a wildly racist dictatorial cake boss? JAKE: Ok, when you put it that way it sounds a bit bonkers. JAKE: What i mean is... JAKE: Take me, for example. JAKE: I know its not my fault janey got a bit rough and tumble with our relationship. That fundamentally, i didnt deserve it. JAKE: But that doesnt exactly make me a mensch by default, does it? JAKE: In fact i worry there might be more of me thats, well... inherently bad than not. JAKE: And thats why everything tends to get so furiously fucked all the time! JAKE: Everyone is waiting around for this better version of me to pop up, but thats never going to happen. JAKE: Because if it did, it wouldn't be me anymore. DIRK: So, are you trapped being Mr. Pissy Pantyloos Loser Man no matter what? JAKE: Sort of. JAKE: What do you think? DIRK: I don't know. DIRK: Maybe? JAKE: Oh...

You have a bit too much trauma that you haven't had any opportunity to heal from to TRULY come into your FULL potential as a Page of Hope, but that doesn't mean you still don't have a lot of power and potential you're still sitting on, only trapped by yourself and your past. All you need to think of is that one key hopeful idea and have the will to use your power for something serious, right now.

DIRK: Here's what we do know: when you face our friends tomorrow, they're gonna be none-the-wiser about the insane masturbatory matrix bullet time battles you've been having with yourself in your own head. DIRK: What will be real to them is what you DID. DIRK: That's it. DIRK: Show them you're trying. DIRK: Or don't, and get left behind. JAKE: Good god... JAKE: This is the worst pep talk... ever. DIRK: It's you, dude, what did you expect? JAKE: True.

It's not all that bad a pep talk, to be honest.

DIRK: Do you want to be left behind? JAKE: No! JAKE: I want to see tavvy grow up! JAKE: I want to choose him! JAKE: But i want to believe in jane too... DIRK: Sigh. JAKE: Listen. JAKE: I never really understood all that much of the "doomed timeline" hoopla you cerebral types tend to gab on about. JAKE: But... its nice to think that there might be countless janes somewhere out there who never stopped being happy. JAKE: Baking, getting up to all manner of lighthearted mischiefs... true blue all around. JAKE: When i think of her, thats whats real to me. JAKE: What she is now, what these rotten unenviable circumstances have made of her, its all just... DIRK: Happenstance. JAKE: Is that stupid? DIRK: Probably, but you're a god of Hope. DIRK: You're a poster-child for making stupid shit feasible. DIRK: And no one has the power to say what's true for every Jane. DIRK: I'm sure if you asked a couple of them how they feel about labor camps and domestic violences, they'd hit you with a "Woah there, buster jones." JAKE: "Thats not for me!" DIRK: "No siree!" JAKE: Hehehe. JAKE: Exactly.

I'm so glad that in some of the bonus material, Jasprosesprite^2 is playing the capricious fantasy psychologist and was on the path last i left off to helping Jane realize that there was a better answer than ruling over the planet herself-- leaving the Agency of Earth C in the hands of the children they'd raised to take it over, because Earth C is something they helped make together but not something they OWN or should command, or would be the best suited to govern.

JAKE: If i can believe in those janes, JAKE: i think i can let this one go. DIRK: Extravagant hoops to stumble through just to keep believing, man. DIRK: It's sneaky. I like it.

Oh, COME ON, can't you just fly into space and kill the Moon Laser instead? It's obvious!!! Still, big move of you (and I agree that this Jane is almost certainly too far gone).

(==>)

JAKE: Its decided then? DIRK: Seems so. DIRK: You can finally leave the closet. JAKE: Har, har.

OH COME ON DON'T JUST FLASH OVER THERE I WANT TO SEE WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON WITH YIFFY!!!!!!!!!

Also it looks like Yiffy might NOT have been setting things on fire, and that the red flashing may just have been the battle alert they received, plus Vrissy's reaction at seeing Yiffy for the first time.

JAKE: Goofs aside, old buddy... JAKE: I get the strange sense i wont be speaking with you again. DIRK: You won't. Why would you? DIRK: You're normal now. JAKE: But- DIRK: You don't need him. JAKE: It feels good to pretend, though. JAKE: To hold on a little while longer. DIRK: Don't. JAKE: Fine! Fine... JAKE: Hope is the crummiest aspect of the lot, huh. JAKE: I swear the only time its worth a lick more than delusions and hot air JAKE: is if it really fucking hurts. DIRK: Welcome to being a person, Jake English.

Hope is incredibly important if you can find a path through that nobody else can, instead of letting the breadth of possibility paralyze you with indecision. (STOP THE MOON LASER INSTEAD OF ATTACKING JANE YOU WON'T WIN THAT WAY)

(Page of Hope: Rise up.)

What a hilariously yet perfectly understated panel for that title!

(John and Vriska: Touch down.)

JOHN: whew! JOHN: that was quite the race. VRISKA: Race? VRISKA: C'mon. VRISKA: That was 8arely a warm-up! JOHN: jeez. JOHN: i guess i'm out of shape. JOHN: i didn't even know you could BE out of shape with magical floating powers... VRISKA: Well, that's what sitting around like a depressing 8oring loser for sweeps gets you! VRISKA: You'll just have to get 8ack IN shape. JOHN: man, i guess so.

If he really turned on the Windy Thing powers he probably could have blown through them and outraced her, but he'd need to believe in himself a little harder and be a bit more confident for that, and he's not QUITE there yet-- not as far gone as Jake was though.

JOHN: hey, now that i've got you here, why did you lead us directly to the meteor? JOHN: we did both kind of mutually mention that there was a transportalizer pretty much directly to the lab in roxy's house, right? VRISKA: Sure. And? JOHN: well i just think maybe it might've been a little less risky to go that way, instead of weaving through battle ships and cross fire and all that war junk. VRISKA: Less risky, may8e, 8ut also wayyyyyyyy less fun. VRISKA: C'mon, wasn't it a pretty sweet joyride? VRISKA: It's nice to give the ol' wings a stretch! JOHN: hehe, that's true.

Being like an action movie star really DOES feel fun to John, doesn't it? Makes him feel like a useful hero.

JOHN: but i think now that we're here, we should probably get inside before someone notices us. JOHN: roxy taught me a secret knock to use in times like these, she'll reco-

Wait who's going to interrupt?

(==>)

VRISKA: *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* *KNOCK* VRISKA: OPEN UP!!!!!!!!

SNERK

Ah, and also they're back to being displayed like the once-children THEY viewed themselves to be, because we aren't looking up at them from one of the children's perspective.

(==>)

SOLLUX: damn dude, to0k you l0ng enough, i'm hungry as hell. SOLLUX: what'd y0u br-

SOLLUX YOU ARE BREAKING SECURITY PROTOCOL YOU ARE A HACKER YOU SHOULD KNOW BETTER YOU LAZY ASS XD

(==>)

...You can't even see her, can you? Are those glasses like techno-sight thingies?

(==>)

Him too. How do you know where to look? I half swear you're hiding robot eyes.

(==>)

SOLLUX: nah.

HAHAHAHAAHAHAH

he doesn't wanna deal with Vriska and John's shit XD

(HOW IS HE SEEING THEM)

Okay time for Vriska to kick down the door (or John to Turn To Wind thing them straight through it, few doors are barriers to him if he has his God-Tier powers in mind).

(==>)

*Shared look of questioning exasperation.*

(==>)

GOSH ROXY IS THE BEST NO MATTER WHAT EXPRESSION SHE'S DRAWN WITH

ROXY: hey you 2! ROXY: sorry abt him his manners are fuckin atroche JOHN: for real. ROXY: anyway hustle up and get in before someone sees ya ROXY: also john wtf happened to the secret knock VRISKA: Yeah, John! VRISKA: What the hell! JOHN: i- ROXY: move it buster!!

Hahahahahah.

Wait, this next link-- that's right we saw THE SHIP above the meteor in an earlier frame I didn't post, this all means that the kids are ALREADY HERE!@!! (Edit from below: nope I looked again it wasn't, why did I imagine it up in the sky)

(John and Roxy: Co-parent.)

This frame isn't important and I still love it in so many different ways.

ROXY: oh the kids are safe btw JOHN: that's good! JOHN: wait, they were in danger? ROXY: yeah numbnuts in case u forgor theres a whole ass conflict goin on with kids gettin kidnapped n houses gettin targeted n shit! ROXY: our house bein one of those hice! JOHN: you never told me our house was one of those hice!

What the FUCK is a "hice"?! \*looks up...\*

"Noun. hice. (chiefly humorous, nonstandard) plural of house."

Are you fuckin serious XD

JOHN: you told me to go get vriska, which i did. VRISKA: Actually, I pretty much got myself. JOHN: fair. JOHN: but i collected her! JOHN: you didn't really say anything about harry or the other kids at all. ROXY: oh man ROXY: i guess i kinda didnt huh ROXY: ... ROXY: aw jeez JOHN: hey! JOHN: i'm sorry roxy, don't worry about it, you've got em now. ROXY: what ROXY: no i dont got em JOHN: wait, what? JOHN: then who has them!!! ROXY: rosenaya and jade picked em up while they were ROXY: um ROXY: runnin around outside unsupervised JOHN: oh. JOHN: well... that's good! ROXY: ... JOHN: ... VRISKA: Haha! You guys are terri8le guardians. ROXY: hey stfu

Okay, so (*checks*) the ship WASN'T here yet, my bad. I guess Vriska is going to engage the Plot Point device before they even get here, potentially.

JOHN: yeah, you're one to talk! JOHN: you left your own clone on her own in a dungeon! VRISKA: It wasn't a "dungeon" John, it was a high-security 8lack site! JOHN: that's basically the same thing. JOHN: if anything it sounds a lot worse! VRISKA: She could handle it. VRISKA: Unlike your lame-ass offspring who need to 8e gru8sat by an entourage of armed guards, I can tell that she's got that patented Serket panache. JOHN: technically she's a maryam-lalonde. VRISKA: Sure, whatever. VRISKA: The point is, she's a Vriska. ROXY: whatever is right VRISKA: Hurry up and walk faster!

Vriska heard the Plot Point was a superweapon and she can't wait to get some shit done with it.

(==>)

You can practically SMELL Vriska drooling at the shrouded appearance of the most plot-significant thing she's seen in this entire timeline, and she think it's a "superweapon" designed just for HER.

CALLIOPE: hello! CALLIOPE: i'm so glad yoU all made it back alright. ROXY: oh it werent no thang baby i was just answerin the door CALLIOPE: not yoU, silly! ROXY: hehe VRISKA: Ew. JOHN: (a little, right?)

SHUT THE FUCK UP they're adorable together!!! Let them be sweet on each other! D:

CALLIOPE: salUtations, vriska! CALLIOPE: i mUst say it's a pleasUre to finally make yoUr acqUaintance! VRISKA: What the hell is that thing? CALLIOPE: hee hee, gracioUs. CALLIOPE: yoU're as rUde as i imagined yoU'd be. VRISKA: Not you. I know who you are. VRISKA: *That* thing! CALLIOPE: oh! CALLIOPE: yes, that'd make sense.

Pfff.

OKAY IT'S TIME TO SEE THE DEVICE, I'M EXCITED

(==>)

SHE'S fucking adorable too! GOSH I LOVE HS^2'S ART SO MUCH.

CALLIOPE: that, my narratively significant friend, is the reason we've called yoU here!

Time for the reveal--!

(==>)

CALLIOPE: allow me to introdUce...

PULL IT BACK

The Plot Point.

THAT'S SO FUCKING COOL LOOKING

CALLIOPE: The Plot Point.

What's with the colors on the left and right though? The spirals on the dragons? It's...

OH! The left spiral is in Roxy Lalonde's God-Tier Void outfit colors and the right spiral is in Calliope style. The combination of their talents and engineering. An infinity-like sideways hourglass up top. The Rogue of Void and the Muse of Space once again combining their talents to create a miracle. I love this.

(==>)

CALLIOPE: er, technically, the machine stabilizing The Plot Point. CALLIOPE: the actUal Point is that ominoUs looking bit in the middle! VRISKA: That's it? CALLIOPE: that's it! VRISKA: It looks sort of small and shitty. CALLIOPE: it's actUally anything but! CALLIOPE: it is paradoxically massive, and incomprehensibly powerfUl! CALLIOPE: so mUch so that the fact that anybody was able to contain it at all is a miracle in and of itself. CALLIOPE: bUt as mUch as i'd like to sit here and congratUlate myself on the achievement of its stabilization, more miracUloUs still is what we intend to achieve with it.

Is it the remnants of the hole alt!Calliope / AL tore open to escape the Black Hole, is it the center OF the singularity itself, or is it an encapsulation of Paradox Space? Or multiple of the above?

CALLIOPE: and yoU, vriska, are going to be instrUmental to the sUccess of this endeavor! VRISKA: No shit! VRISKA: That's kind of my whole thing. CALLIOPE: yoU're more correct than yoU know! ^u^ CALLIOPE: as we've already explained to john, this world is cUrrently mired in a state of, well... let's call it dUbious pertinence. CALLIOPE: a- VRISKA: I fucking KNEW it!!!!!!!! VRISKA: John, didn't I tell you? VRISKA: I totally did tell him. VRISKA: I've 8een saying that this world is complete 8ogus for ages now, and no8ody's 8een listening! VRISKA: Yet here I am, right again. VRISKA: Shocker! VRISKA: You should listen to Calliope, John. VRISKA: They may have pretty weird taste in fashion, 8ut they o8viously know what they're talking about where the shitty fake shitness of this joke of a timeline is concerned. VRISKA: Clearly we need to do something. CALLIOPE: Um. CALLIOPE: that was perhaps a tad redUctive, and sort of rUde, bUt yoU're certainly correct in yoUr assessment that something has to be done aboUt this!

Pretty much!

CALLIOPE: i'll keep this short. CALLIOPE: i know john's already heard a good deal of this explanation previoUsly, and yoU seem to be catching on quick! CALLIOPE: so! CALLIOPE: earlier, yoU mentioned that yoU've had a keen sense from the beginning that something was amiss here. CALLIOPE: althoUgh oUr world isn't necessarily "bogUs" and it certainly isn't "fake", per se, we are in effect completely cUt off from the wider canon of reality, to borrow a phrase from a slightly earlier me. CALLIOPE: we're kept qUarantined here by means of existing within a massive black hole, from which escape seems essentially impossible. CALLIOPE: that's where yoU come in! CALLIOPE: yoU see, we're hoping to leverage yoUr Unique hyperrelevancy here to- CALLIOPE: oops, let me back Up.

Back up to what?

CALLIOPE: the reason we broUght yoU *here*, specifically, is becaUse The Plot Point over there corresponds to the singUlarity at the exact center of oUr aforementioned plot prison! CALLIOPE: important bit of info, that! CALLIOPE: now, to reiterate, we want to escape that prison. CALLIOPE: and not jUst as individUals, either; no, the hope is that we'll be able to emancipate oUr entire world from this narrative pUrgatory and retake oUr place in the limelight!

Oh it was the SECOND THING-- the singularity itself, the normally-inescapable mass concentrating this entire timeline and all other fan-timelines in a prison nothing can normally escape, but that a Thief of Light as incessantly relevant as Vriska -- possibly with the help of an Heir of Breath, the aspect of freedom and escape -- to help them escape the black hole, and perhaps live outside Paradox Space still but still RELEVANT outside its influence, because Paradox Space itself is an entirely different sort of prison, of plot and canon that they would only want to tie themselves to enough to maintain coherence and escape the black hole garbage bin of irrelevance, I imagine.

CALLIOPE: to do this, we aim to become Uncontainable, and to do *that* we're going to Use yoU, a potent plot player if ever there was one, to crack the black hole wide open by, well... CALLIOPE: by interacting with the singUlarity! CALLIOPE: by reaching The Plot Point. CALLIOPE: now there are qUite a few ways this coUld practically shake oUt, and more than a few methodologies we coUld have yoU try. VRISKA: (...) CALLIOPE: the first thoUght was just to have yoU "make something happen" here, something significant, mind. CALLIOPE: bUt what woUld that really entail? CALLIOPE: contriving an entire scenario for yoU to play a pivotal role in, here at the center of all things? CALLIOPE: i did consider it, bUt it felt... CALLIOPE: well, inorganic. inaUthentic. CALLIOPE: and if we're going to make it oUt of here, inaUthenticity is the exact opposite of what we need to achieve! VRISKA: (........) CALLIOPE: which broUght me to wondering how someone like yoU might Utilize The Point itself, as a tool rather than a locale. CALLIOPE: how yoU might wield it!

I guess Roxy and Calliope (or at least, THIS Roxy and Calliope) haven't quite worked out the plan for exactly what they should do now that they've gotten to this point. But the way Vriska is acting, I think she's thinking of something. No matter who may or may not agree with her.

CALLIOPE: perhaps it's a portal, and we'd send yoU throUgh it? CALLIOPE: or maybe we'd have yoU ferry Us all throUgh it? CALLIOPE: thoUgh how woUld that work? CALLIOPE: alternatively, maybe it'd be as simple as having yoU attempt to destroy it! CALLIOPE: and-

I have a feeling that Vriska wants to do something that might let her PERSONALLY escape this timeline and return to the "real" canon one, to a realm of relevance herself... possibly forcibly dragging John along with her if she feels like it, but likely all on her own. And I'm not sure, but I think she wants to see Terezi again. And there's only one place she can find her.

I have a feeling whatever is about to happen isn't exactly what I or anyone else expects, though.

How is she going to steal enough relevance back from Canon to infuse this place with promise? *IS* she going to, or will she try to do her own thing and only accidentally do so, or end up fucking up and needing to be freed by John, or even have John himself be responsible for allowing them to escape the prison instead of Vriska?

(==>)

VRISKA: ALR8GHTY! VRISKA: Just... shoosh, lemme stop you right there. CALLIOPE: :u VRISKA: I don't have all day to sit around listening to a frumpy exposition creature.

*snert* exposition creature

JOHN: but you said t- VRISKA: 8up 8up 8up! VRISKA: You too. VRISKA: Here's the story. VRISKA: It's o8vious to anyone with half a pan that this whole shindig is pretty much cosmically clusterfucked, top to 8ottom. VRISKA: Equally o8vious is that I'm gonna 8e the one to fix it, 8ecause when am I not? VRISKA: And what's 8ecoming even MORE o8vious to me is that none of you actually have any REAL idea of what it is I need to 8e doing here! VRISKA: Theories, may8e. VRISKA: 8ut nothing solid.

That much is true.

VRISKA: So while I'd love to sit around listening to more academic conjecture on the ifs ands or 8uts of what EXACTLY this thing's deal is and what we should or shouldn't may8e do with it, I actually wouldn't love that at all, and am not going to do it, 8ecause it'd be a waste of my time. VRISKA: And no offense to this whole plane of existence, 8ut I've had just a8out as much as I can handle of wasting my time in here. VRISKA: It's time to kick off the training wheels and do what I do 8est: VRISKA: Figure shit out myself. VRISKA: So sit tight and leave the rest of this to me! VRISKA: You can thank me when I get 8ack.

I guess even though she's going it alone for herself, this all might work out after all? Vriska's gonna Vriska, but maybe that's not so bad here.

OH AN [S] PAGE OOOOOO

[S] (Vriska: Figure shit out yourself.)

Whoa that animation was cool as SHIT. And what was with the spinning hourglass...

VRISKA: You're welcooooOOOOH SHIIIIIIIIT-

PFFF

(==>)

That hourglass do be doing a REAL SPINNY STILL.

ROXY: wow JOHN: yeah, she's... JOHN: well, just as much of a card as i remember! ROXY: just as much of a jerk maybe CALLIOPE: she definitely was not very polite. CALLIOPE: bUt... CALLIOPE: i guess she did more or less end Up doing something! CALLIOPE: so i sUppose we shoUld chalk that Up as a win and a job well done? JOHN: i don't know... JOHN: i was kind of expecting something a bit more... JOHN: more plot significant? JOHN: i guess?

You don't quite know what she's going to DO in there though... or how important it's going to end up having made Vriska's experiences in this timeline, because whatever she ends up pulling off has to make (Candy) more important than a doomed timeline in sealing its need ineffably in the course of events of the future, present, or past of all Canon.

ROXY: callie CALLIOPE: yes dear? ROXY: is vriska right CALLIOPE: right aboUt what, dear? ROXY: about the fact that u dont actually know wtf we were supposed to be gettin up to here CALLIOPE: well... CALLIOPE: Um, more or less, yes. ROXY: bb are you srs CALLIOPE: oh dear. CALLIOPE: did i neglect to mention that i only really had a solid grasp on the inaUgural steps of this whole Undertaking? ROXY: um ROXY: YEAH CALLIOPE: oops! ^u^; ROXY: shit yeah callie that is kind of a fuckin oops!

Again... especially with the PRECISION with which this machine is made, I believe Roxy and Calliope are perhaps unknowingly collaborating with the OTHER Roxy and Calliope who are helping write the (Candy) storyline altogether.

ROXY: you said you were being compelled by like hella visions n premonishes n mysterious psychic spatiotemporal intuitions n i kinda figured that meant you had this shit all ttly comprehended! CALLIOPE: i'm sorry, roxy! CALLIOPE: it absolUtely wasn't my intention to mislead yoU or to overrepresent my level of Understanding of the process. CALLIOPE: it's jUst that, well... CALLIOPE: yoU remember how we got so wrapped Up in the initial excitement of finding the singUlarity and the rUined jUjU arch, and sUbseqUently stabilizing it with oUr sUper cool cherUbic-lalondian tech... ROXY: its true our tech really is so fkn cool...

EX-FUCKING-SCUSE ME DID YOU SAY RUINED JUJU ARCH!?!?!?? Who the fuck was responsible for THAT?!? For ALL of these devices!? I still have to play Hiveswap Chapter 2 but I feel like that won't give me answers yet either if I had to guess!!!

CALLIOPE: and then, well... it felt like we were on sUch a roll when we came to the conclUsion that we needed to leverage vriska's hyperrelevance to scUrry oUt of here... ROXY: we did have a whole bunch of high fives about that... CALLIOPE: it was an exhilarating breakthroUgh! CALLIOPE: and an eqUally exhilarating high-five session! CALLIOPE: bUt then the conflict began to ramp Up, and yoUr son got into all those shenanigans, and i wanted yoU to feel like i had everything Under control down here so yoU could attend to it! CALLIOPE: and all that notwithstanding, we really DID need to hUrry Up and do SOMETHING. CALLIOPE: i worried that perhaps yoU'd be a bit relUctant to pUll the trigger on this if it felt like all the details weren't lined Up. CALLIOPE: and so i... CALLIOPE: well, i sUppose i might have implied a more complete knowledge of the a to zed of all this then i actUally... possessed. CALLIOPE: and continUe to possess. JOHN: well, but you don't possess it. CALLIOPE: no, i'm afraid not. CALLIOPE: u_u ROXY: urgh callie i gotta say this feels sorta less than ideal ROXY: but i guess wcyd

Yeah, it was only a slightly dick move and the Rogue of Void is going to forgive this sort of white lie easily enough in their relationship. It makes sense.

JOHN: wow. JOHN: feels kinda nice not being the one getting chastised, for a change! ROXY: john shut ur insensitive blabhole or im gonna chastise the shit out of u JOHN: jeez!

Yeah butt out Egbert!

JOHN: just trying to think solution here, but is there something *we* should do? JOHN: should we maybe, i don't know... follow her? CALLIOPE: oh, i woUldn't recommend that. CALLIOPE: whatever's going on in there is likely to be extremely dangeroUs, and scarily... CALLIOPE: specific. JOHN: it's dangerous and you let her jump right into it? CALLIOPE: well she didn't exactly give me mUch of a golden window of opportUnity to try and talk her oUt of it, now did she! CALLIOPE: besides, what exactly was i sUpposed to say? CALLIOPE: "hello vriska, lovely to make yoUr acqUaintance, so glad yoU coUld make it to oUr little soiree, woUld yoU mind doing something of particUlar significance next to, bUt not within, that crackling narrative nexUs of swirling spacetime? by the by, i'm not actUally sUre as to what, and in addition to that the forces at play here coUld qUite easily rip yoU or perhaps even all of Us along with oUr entire plane of existence to pieces if yoU're not exceedingly carefUl so do take a second or two to think aboUt it?" ROXY: i mean mb that woulda helped ROXY: but rly it sorta seems like she woulda just jumped right tf in anyway JOHN: yeah.

Is John going to have to save Vriska from a Black Hole with his powers like I long falsely theory-foretold back in the original run of Homestuck? Once she's done her thing? John is pretty much the only possible person who could pull her back out of there. It'd be the complete embodiment of his God-Tier Heir of Breath role.

JOHN: ... JOHN: well, it doesn't *feel* like we're all being ripped to pieces. ROXY: ya im feelin pretty structurally intact, hbu callie CALLIOPE: whole and one! SOLLUX: yeah i'm all go0d. ROXY: oh damn dude, when did u get in here- ROXY: wait tf ROXY: are those my chips SOLLUX: i guess they were.

Pfff

banter banter banter...

SOLLUX: anyway what's going 0n in here? JOHN: hmmmmmmmm. JOHN: i wonder what IS going on in there.

Oh I love the next link title (but why is she grumpy though, is this AL/alt!Calliope we're cutting to?)--

Grumpy Exposition Creature: Exposit.

let’s have a look, then. as ever, faced with the desperate scrabbling of those who would overstep their bounds, it falls to me to clear things up. unfortunately, what’s been started here is now beyond my ability to curtail. what i can do, however, is show you all the consequences of the actions of those who would leap before they looked, and at the very least offer you a reprieve from tiresome conjecture in favor of equally tiresome deus ex machina.

Oh god, that's ominous as fuck. Alt!Calliope / AL is definitely pissed that the (Candy) folks besides the chosen few she brought along had the cheek to interfere and make the Canon timeline even more sprawlingly complicated without the ability to loop to a neat close.

Oh look at those brackets to represent the inside of the Plot Point, those are new? Have I finally almost caught up? ((NOO I WANTED TO SEE MORE YIFFY!)) I sniffed a glimpse of a 3D-or-game-like-looking something somewhere on tumblr or twitter or Patreon or the like in the midst of my efforts to immediately look away from anything close to a spoiler, so I sort of am expecting that I might be about to be shown something that would otherwise be surprisingly interactive and three dimensional soon...

[S] {Vriska: Come to.}

That was an ORANGE Sburb house like Dirk's color in the loading, or perhaps orange for Light colored?!

It's her old home... but in a white void with black clouds... ominously surrounded by horses...

{==>}

Home again, like the so distant past. Complete with the shitty "doomsday device" Eridan helped her build that never worked.

{==>}

She walks up her old stairs. Alt!Calliope/AL narrates...

they sent the thief here in search of power; the power to escape the containment i so painstakingly set up for them. she may well find it, though once again at no small cost to the integrity of this narrative, to say nothing of their tragically crumbling world. in fact, they’re quite lucky their meddling hasn’t immediately engendered the exact sort of catastrophic collapse my vibrant counterpart so flippantly theorized could occur. they must have friends in high places.

Friends in high places? Like the readers, or Andrew Hussie, or perhaps (Meat) Callie, who likely helped write this outcome?

If I had to guess, Alt!Callie thought this prison, this CONTAINMENT, would be a blessing... that perhaps the influence of non-Canon on Canon should be minimized even if non-Canon were to decompose into chaos and irrelevance. She believes this to hold nothing but danger and regret for them all. I think she's going to be proven wrong... but why is she so certain she's right about it? Quite ominous indeed...

Is it the remains of the collapsed Green Sun? Something Vriska would have the power to steal, something that might be powering the very existence of the (Candy) timeline though not sufficiently enough to keep it going for much longer without "crumbling" anyway?

{==>}

Whoaaaa.

when all is said and done, however, they’ll find the reward for their transgressions ill recompense for the price they paid to receive it. the black hole could only ever shelter them for so long, and in their haste to shrug off my protection they have opened the door to something far, far hungrier.

What... fandom demands? :?

{==>}

Vriska's old room...

this is not the salvation they are hoping for.

{==>}

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < meow! VRISKA: AAAAAAAAH! VRISKA: What the fuck are you doing here, Nepeta!

AhahAHAHAH!!! HAHAH! They live! :D

They couldn't be what AL was alluding to, could they? Time powers and fanfiction-love condensed into an oddly gender-euphoric-seeming fusion that loves themselves and knows the meaning and importance of Heart just as well or better than the Prince of Heart?

Vriska didn't meet this one for long, right, or ever? Hence confusing them for Nepeta?

{==>}

THAT'S WHERE ALL YOU OTHER MISSING SPRITES HAVE BEEN BESIDES JASPROSE

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < davepeta actually DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but i gotta say its pretty refurreshing getting hit with nepeta instead of dave fur once! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < everynyans always dave dave daving me and its like um YEAH maybe i AM half walker texas rapper with a sick pair of shades and some pretty funky ideas about what is or isnt funny and for what reasons DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but i am also half straight up mewjoshi with a super clean trenchcoat and very obvious kitty ear horn things! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < so thank you fur that DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < its very validating

Multigendered plural fusions need their validation just as much or more than everyone else, really. :D

VRISKA: Okay, well. VRISKA: What the fuck are you doing here, *Davepeta*. VRISKA: What the fuck am *I* doing here! VRISKA: What in the FUCK are you, me, and all the rest of these multichromatic circus freak rejects doing in my hive?! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < just kinda hangin out!

Is this like... a prison for everyone deemed too inconvenient to serve in the plot of even (Candy)?

{==>}

ERISOLSPRITE: wwe'vve been here for liike a miilliion fuckiin 2wweep2. DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < actually we just got here DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < this place didnt even exist until she popped in ERISOLSPRITE: gue22 ii'll fuck my2elf. DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < sprites go where guidance is essential!

Hmmmmm.

Friends in high places... Perhaps all of Skaia and/or the Horrorterrors combined wills also sanctioned this plan in the end? Because when they were created, or WILL BE created in Meat's timeline potentially, they'll eventually see and know something very important about what's possible here and how essential it is?

VRISKA: Ooooooooh, are you going to lead me to the weapon? VRISKA: Is it one of my doomsday devices? VRISKA: It totally is, isn't it. ERISOLSPRITE: 2et iit off, free u2.

Oh, hahah, Erisolsprite! You're so hilarious, wanting to unalive yourself all the time. Hahahah! Hah. :x

VRISKA: God, causality is so o8sessed with irony, even though it's such a useless joke for o8scene tools. DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < the only weapon in here is curled up snoozing all dormant and cute in your bloodpusher! VRISKA: Really? That's stupid.

It's not! Vriska is the Thief of Light.

If she really understood what that meant, then redistributing relevance is the exact and ultimate weapon needed for this situation. Even Callie and Roxy guessed THAT much, though Vriska perhaps still doesn't know enough about her potential to understand what she can actually do.

Also "in your bloodpusher" could indicate in your Heart, the ability for Vriska to interact with her broader Soul back in Paradox Space...

...Hopefully we don't need her to become an Ultimate Self version of herself? Because creating Ultimate Vriska would ABSOLUTELY open the door to "something far, far hungrier" in a way that might be dangerous to absolutely everyone.

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < *vriska stalks menacingly but ill informedly all up in here like "ummmmmmmm where am i what are you doing in my hive is the jank ass rube goldberg machine i built as a six sw33p old gonna fix everything?" because apparently thats so much less stupid* DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < just spaying DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < actually yuck i dont like that

Yeah that's a step too far a pun, and also probably not how Davepeta wants to roll.

VRISKA: If it's just me, then why the hell are all you guys here? DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < we rolled through so we could shepurrd our little eight legged sh33p to some helpfur self reflection

Yep... the biggest weapon is potentially Vriska performing some self-discovery and learning more about her title and aspect than she was willing to before-- learning about the real power she commands, which is so SO much more than just "luck".

VRISKA: I came here to save the world! VRISKA: In case you haven't noticed, the only thing showing up in MY reflection is a perfectly adjusted 8adass. DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < s33 that f33ls to me like an insane thing to say DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < does that not sound insane to you fefeta? FEFETASPRITE: 3833 < 383 DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < not very adjusted at all VRISKA: I need to adjust my way out of here. DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < tough kitties! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < s33 you just bapped the nail on the head DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < this is exactly why youre here DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < you gotta work on your shit vriska serket!

I really like this. I really like seeing ALL of these characters sorting out the worst of some of their unresolved issues. And this childhood room and Vriska's childhood fantasies are at the heart (Heart!!!) of a lot of her desperation and neediness, and inability to look past HERSELF to find who and what she can truly be if she tries. These sprites are together to help speedrun her through a whole successful Sburb session's worth of growing up.

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < *gears up to lay the fuckin smackdown on you all wrestler style but maybe also rapper style but the rapper is also a therapist who doesnt take shit from anybody and beats their clients the fuck up EMEOWTIONALLY but i guess in a productive way!!!* DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < you meow a big game about doing shit that matters and saving the world and being right all the time and making tough calls or whatever the fuck DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < but more often than not youre just tearing through life taking a big dump in its litter box and kicking your collitteral all ofur the place! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < fluff that! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < you wanna save the world so bad? DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < youre gonna have to save yourself first

Let's gooooo! :D

(I wonder if any of the transfem Vriska toblerone stuff is going to play into this incidentally, while we're this far in her past, or if as i hear that was only possibly hinted at mainly in Pesterquest or something else I haven't played.)

{==>}

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < and were all gonna help you! DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < whether you like it or not

Are those ghosts from the Ghost Rain back in (Candy) that I haven't heard about since, when all the dream bubbles fell into the black hole?

{==>}

the fuck am i looking at XD

Okay, THIS is the 3D page I think I saw hinted at coming up, deliberately misleading link title and all:

{S} Begin Session.

Oh, "welcome to hell" and it's page 666, too, hah.

There was a prompt for a CHAPTER SELECT at the beginning so there's likely to be too much content here for me to screenshot much of, nor text I can highlight and paste properly, so I'm just going to comment on what I'm seeing when it's relevant as I play through this little game thing and paraphrase instead of using whole quotes unless something's so important I can't convey it with a screenshot alone.

We're first revisiting the cliff that Vriska threw Tavros off of. Vriska needs to confront why she fucking did that and that she ought not to have, but what exactly pushed her into it besides Doc Scratch. All the pressures she grew up with, and why she gave into them, and that she was... well, raised wrong and made wrong decisions that she needs to psychologically unpack to find herself. Her real self beneath all the bluster and arrogance and wrecking of shit.

--Ooh wait, the menu has a "Download Log" function, I'll use that if I need to to copy-paste text if needed (but I'll mostly focus on getting through this and commenting)!

*click*

Weird music. Egyptian out of nowhere. Have we crossed Charon's river?-- no wait that's greek. Oh jazz too.

VRISKA: wow, hell was right.

Again I'll try not to quote everything and just allude or paraphrase. I wonder if this beat is implied to be something Davepetasprite^2 would have mixed together.

Vriska thinks she's faced with the "ghosts of her past" and needs to "sort it out", hm. A shallow approach but we'll get to her depths soon enough.

Wait I tried the Download Log option to try and get the transcript to quote Vriska's "speedrun enlightenment" (lol good luck) line, but instead it was just the game's debug log. And the other menu... SKIP UNSEEN TEXT AND AFTER-CHOICES?

Oh man, this is an adventure potentially with CHOICES where we keep skipping back to figure out how to best get through a situation isn't it and see her go through each of the options??? :D (Or is at least built on an engine that does that?) Fucking sick! It even SAVES AND LOADS. Is it big enough to NEED that?!

I'm just gonna dive into this and comment lightly so I can get through it myself if you don't mind.

Continuing Tavros's segment...

We're replaying a point in her past where Tavros is near that cliff, and Vriska hasn't killed OR disabled him yet...

I feel fine about killing Tavros, and he's certainly ok with it now. The situation's sorted!

BULLSHIT IT IS. Let's see you being forced to introspect here, I can't wait.

It could have 8een any number of things. I did a lot of things wrong.

Yeah, BUT WHY? You haven't fucking confronted it yet.

Oh now she's pulling out the thing Rose just did with "It all worked out in the end so it was the right thing to do", fuck that. Fuck that. Learn.

{Hours Later, but not many.}

WHAT IS THAT ANIMATED LIP QUIVER SHE'S GOT TO BE FAKING IT

VRISKA: ...I'm sorry I said your lusus "smelled like tears".

So she's thinking that apologizing for everything she ever did is going to help, here... she might even be working herself up about it, making herself genuinely emotional if I don't get psyched out on the next click. But apology isn't enough here... she needs to learn about HERSELF, and why she did what she did, and what she would RATHER HAVE DONE if it came down to it, rather have done FOR HERSELF and not just for everyone else's.

And perhaps, words aren't at all what matters here. It's hard for a Light player to figure out, but words don't mean much. Only actions.

Clicking forward... yep, it's not progressing. And she's being "sincere a8out at least 80% of these", hahahah.

((Also I forgot that the infinity symbol on her eyepatch lines up with the sideways hourglass on the plot point machine and would be the perfect accoutrement to her becoming her Ultimate Self, too.))

Whoa.

Hold on.

I know it's a common phrase in Homestuck. SO common a phrase that I never... fuck... how could I be... the fucking person who wrote that Ultimate Riddle post and not make this connection?

The game keeps asking her, keeps asking and asking her the exact same question:

"What will you do?"

A phrase repeated dozens and dozens and dozens of times throughout all of Homestuck. And idiot that I am I never ONCE thought to REARRANGE THE WORDS.

Because the answer to the Ultimate Riddle is theoretically:

Do What You Will

THE ULTIMATE RIDDLE POST IS LITERALLY ELEVEN YEARS OLD HOW DID I NOT ONCE MAKE THIS FUCKING CONNECTION

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

(Okay calm the fuck down, focus. Back to the game.)

Is that the lesson she's finally going to learn, here???

Let's keep going and see.

...(more clicking)

"What will you do?"

Huh... Vriska thinks Tavros ought to want revenge against her for what she did to him. That's one of the biggest things she has to unlearn.

VRISKA: It's like I'm always saying, words are meaningless. VRISKA: What we need is action.

Nice callback but no you don't always say that asshole! I mean, you've been saying it lately... but also running from your problems with it.

VRISKA: The reason I'm stuck here is 8ecause I don't owe you plac8ing apologies VRISKA: I owe you revenge. It's just that easy!

None of this is EASY. That's been your issue. You haven't even admitted when it's been hard except for fleeting moments of pure anger and frustration.

VRISKA: You have to throw me off this cliff.

Pffffff

TAVROS: vRISKA I DON'T WANT TO DO A REVENGE ON YOU

Thank you, Tavros, but it's not going to be that easy to get it through her thick skull.

VRISKA: [live out the rest of your life] Here on Alternia. VRISKA: Before everything goes wrong. VRISKA: You can kill me now. VRISKA: 8efore I screw your life up.

Tavros didn't want Vriska to just disappear. Not back then, and not for a long time now.

Oh and now she's literally REPEATING the crime of trying to FORCE HIM TO KILL HER that she did on the quest bed. She has to reckon with THAT too.

Hm-- it's only giving me one choice, huh? I wonder if more will open up if/when we come back to this scene?

{Thief: Do the right thing.}

Manipulating him, stealing his will to FORCE him to kill her. Just another crime for the pile, really, not a solution.

{It's really for the 8est.}

VRISKA: Good luck.

Wishing luck to someone ELSE instead of herself, huh.

{Adios, Toreador.}

The music fading off...

SHING

She's literally GRINNING to be dead.

{==>}

Only to wind back up on that same beach she started the Plot Point in.

YEAR 2

HOLY FUCKING SHIT

OKAY MAYBE THIS IS GOING TO TAKE HER A WHILE!!!!

I guess that while the other folks in the Candy timeilne grew up around her, she's still younger... still has LITERAL growing up to do to match up with them. So that hourglass wasn't a joke, this is almost like a TEMPORAL SINGULARITY, a hyperbolic feelings jam time chamber.

Fascinating. (Click.)

Davepeta roleplaying, heheh. Always happy to see it.

Oh, Vriska has a tank top and her hair tied back. She's going to grow up, steadily and slowly, through all this.

"the breaking of cycles, dissolution of the self, whatever other philosophical rhetoric bill murray said in that one meowvie", huh? I do feel more like we're aiming for her to reach her Ultimate Self here, perhaps...

Yeah no shit Vriska's going to be depressed after two years trapped here with her past problems, unable to even die to escape them.

Asking Davepeta to please tell her, HER, what to do, and not in a flighty spritey roundabout way. Hmm. Let's see if they answer, and let's see if she's finally ready to listen.

You think "sweeps of my life are 8eing w8sted here", huh? Your immortal life, you mean? And you don't know that there's time compression going on in here yet, perhaps.

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: B33 < trust me i'm trying!!

D'aww, they look so bashful about failing to help, here.

Hahahhaah, that IS an issue isn't it! ...Huh. I wonder who WOULD be able to relate to her enough for her to listen to, that she would actually be able to take the advice of. Aradia? But is any version of her or ghostly imitation even here?

I know I'm wasting the image limit a little here but THAT'S WAY TOO CUTE, seriously I love how happy Davepetasprite^2 is with BEING themselves all the time.

Ooh, if you don't watch the groundhog movie you're gonna have an even harder time of this. Two whole years and you didn't watch Groundhog Day for a hint to get out and solve your psychological problems?

DAVEPETASPRITE^2: *the fearsome gender neutral lionesster pins down its prey but instead of getting down to business growls out how the prey deserves this for being a big disappointing pussy*

Fuck I love that, "gender neutral lionesster" complete with that portmanteau at the end, that's valid as heck. Validation of ANY sort breathes life into my lungs.

Whoa... five choices, three of them grayed out, and "Check back later!" at the bottom. No wonder there's save slots, so this is going to be periodically updated?!?

Flarp manuals will bring us back to Tavros for sure... Let's see if that's something new and doesn't bring us back. (Click!)

VRISKA (angry): "I've apologized, I've killed you, you've killed me, you've paralyzed me, disfigured me, we traveled the world together." VRISKA: "We 8uilt you an army, had several revolutions, you got to do your little dance a thousand times over."

Oh she even replayed her LATER adventures with ghost Tavros?

Sure, but what did she LEARN from any of this, about HERSELF? What is she WILLING to learn about herself?

Oh.

Oh my god.

Oh my god this whole time she's never asked him to "participate in activity of his own choosing". SHE'S NEVER ASKED HIM WHAT HE WANTED TO DO THIS ENTIRE TIME.

SHE'S FINALLY LEARNING ABOUT WILL! ABOUT THE BALANCE TO FIND WITH ALLOWING OTHERS AGENCY!!!!?!

Let's see... yep, he wants to play a game.

Because he used to play games all the time with the likes of Vriska... and he enjoyed himself, until she betrayed him and threw him off a cliff. For the first time EVER in her life, Vriska is trying to see what Tavros actually wants without deciding it for him.

{Play game.}

Vriska is baffled that even though she won, Tavros is still happy to have played the game. Even when Tavros was losing, he was STILL ENJOYING playing games with her. He always had.

He doesn't CARE that much about losing. She's never understood, been able to relate, to that. To her, losing was like death.

To him, losing in a new and different way is an adventure.

I'm loving all of this so much.

VRISKA: Damn. VRISKA: That is quite possibly the gayest thing I have ever heard someone say, Nitram.

PFFF I DID A SPITTAKE ALMOST

TAVROS: wHAT DOES THAT WORD, EVEN MEAN VRISKA: I don't know! It's a human word Dave would repeat all the time 8efore I started using it against him.

OUCH, on the meteor trip? Ouch ouch ouch! XD

VRISKA: It's 8asically what you tell people when you think they're 8eing inane and need them to shut up. TAVROS :wELL THEN, vRISKA, i THINK YOU, aRE gAY TOO,

BAAHAHAHAAHAH PREACH

TAVROS: yOU AND I, aRE BOTH STUPID GAY, TAVROS: nOW BASED OFF THE RULES OF GAY, wE HAVE TO SHUT UP AND GAME, VRISKA: I'm not gay, stop saying I'm gaaaaaaaay!!!!!!!!

I'M FUCKIN DYING XD

Tavros is right: If someone didn't lose, following all these game rules wouldn't be fun. If you can't love losing at least a little, you can't truly love playing games.

PFFFHAHAHAH he remembered something for a split second to make a point and then went back to not and Vriska is losing her shit.

She's remembering why she hated him so much... how she HAD to hate this attitude of his. I'm guessing in part it's because thanks to her lusus, SHE NEVER HAD THE LUXURY OF LOSING, THAT WAS DEATH TO HER. Possibly LITERALLY death, to not win and feed others to her mother.

OHOHO SHE ACCIDENTALLY REVEALED HER OWN FEELINGS!!!

VRISKA: I think if a certain uppity human was here, she'd call it "projecting."

SHE'S FINALLY FUCKING LEARNING

Tavros laying it down that he always REMINDED HER OF ALL OF HER FEARS. THAT'S why she always hated him.

TAVROS (eyebrowsing): i LOVE NOW KNOWING, tHAT YOU HAVE PROBLEMS,

Oh that's gonna get to her. XD

They could both be projects for each other. Oh gosh it's actually showing how they could have had a HEALTHY rivalry or relationship in some other quadrant where they improved each OTHER, and Tavros showed her how to be comfortable losing and not always having to concern herself with survival.

Aw he's feeling "inspired" (Breath)!

...whoa. Tavros laying out some alternative gender fantasies here? The nice and soft bronze fairy, and she will be super nice and awesome because everyone likes her?

VRISKA: Let's play some games for girls.

Yeah!!!!!!!!

Oh my god Tavros really DID have a character sheet for a female Bronze Fairy character that was a Tavros-like mirror to Vriska's Blue Fairy and he's embarrassed to say it. This is pretty incredible, I love how much Gender they are stuffing into all of these updates.

And yeah Vriska, it's the first time you've really listened to him. Really, ACTUALLY been not terrified to listen to him, and tried to understand how he feels without your defenses all the way up to just drive over him whenever he made you uncomfortable, or literally ever.

VRISKA: This whole time I thought I was supposed to 8e pushing you. VRISKA: It's soooooooo o8vious now, that was pretty fucking stupid of me. There was nothing I could have done to change your mind, huh? ARADIABOT: exactly

AAAAA aradiabot jumpscare! Right at her important psychological revelation! D:

ARADIABOT: y0ure finally starting t0 get it

And I'm so glad of it.

{==>}

Vriska's finally taken a step forward after all these years trapped here, and she's flabbergasted.

LoMaT and Aradiabot, now.

VRISKA: Are you... aware of the situation? Does this mean I finally cleared Tavros and you're the next level of helltier?

Well, yeah I think so pretty much.

ARADIABOT: i w0uldnt say that ARADIABOT: m0re acurately this is the b0ss fight t0 drive the p0int h0me

Oh?

Yeah, Vriska still thinks this purgatory is about punishment, or atonement, instead of LEARNING. About herself, about her friends, about GROWING as a person.

VRISKA: It's not........?

Two years slow on the pickup! WOW that's a thick layer of problems for Vriska to work through all at once.

Oh what a callout... good point Aradiabot, telling it straight to her that VRISKA was the only one satisfied by Aradiabot giving her the smackdown and killing her. That she wanted to be hated, judged, and that was the thing that she couldn't stand about Aradiabot the most.

ARADIABOT: what i meant was that y0u got what y0u always wanted ARADIABOT: y0u were ex0nerated vriska thats what its always been ab0ut

Yeah, she's always wanted someone to make her pay.

VRISKA: I never once asked to 8e f8rgiven for free, I always paid the price!

No, you believed in the false power of redemptive violence. You never confronted why you did what you did in the first place, you just used exoneration as an excuse to not work on the problem at all in yourself.

ARADIABOT: wh0 can aff0rd t0 care when they kn0w y0ure g0ing t0 hurt them again?

FUCKING PREACH.

No, Vriska, getting beaten and bruised and mutil8ed and h8ing yourself doesn't fix the problem. Redemptive violence is a myth. You have to confront why you did what you did inside YOURSELF and cure yourself of the root cause.

Oh wow, "What will you do" growing on the screen like this...

Yeah, Vriska's not going to manipul8 aradiabot into caring. That wouldn't accomplish anything, and she's moved past really, truly, being willing to try that anyway.

ARADIABOT: y0ure n0t here t0 be redeemed vriska y0ure here t0 grow up

Exactly. ...And kind of fun that Pupa Pan Tavros was her first and hardest test, in that light.

--Vriska doesn't even understand what that MEANS yet, being asked to grow up! She doesn't know what growing up REALLY MEANS having only interpreted it in the cruel Alternian context she internalized while being raised!

ARADIABOT: d0 y0u even want t0 be that b0ssy br0ad?

YES CUT TO THE HEART OF THE MATTER. That Vriska doesn't actually enjoy BEING this thing she thinks she has to be. That the badass bossy broad she's convinced she SHOULD be, and plays the part of, was never what would truly make her happy and was NEVER going to avoid hurting everyone else. And deep down, she hates that she hurts people. But she's convinced herself she never had a choice.

...Yeah, Aradiabot, preach it. Paraphrasing her, even at her "most useless self", there's a place for Vriska in the world and people in it that want to share a life with her if she'd let them.

Pfff, Aradiabot's "0o0" face at her asking "am I the problem?"

ARADIABOT: i am g0ing t0 expl0de again

LOL

People have been telling you that your entire life, Vriska. You've just never listened. <3

ARADIABOT: 0f course! ARADIABOT: y0u already have

EXACTLY-- both before and even in this very sequence, ESPECIALLY in this sequence with Tavros, quite significantly!

--pff she's shocked and confused that Aradiabot thinks so

Yeah, she's grown steadily throughout all this, she's not the same as she was as a kid-- and she still has MUCH more to grow to TRULY grow up, and has taken an enormous step just now with Tavros's memory whether she realizes it or not.

ARADIABOT: "that aligns with y0ur aspect" ARADIABOT: "light players define themselves by their direct acti0ns and understanding"

Agency and Information, yeah! (Though that sort of goes somewhat against how I was saying earlier to Sollux's ominous portent how the Life/Doom axis was better about defining oneself by their actions; perhaps not by their actions but by... hm. Light players concern themselves more about agency (the ability to act) and then the MEANING of those actions, whereas Life players just DO and don't consider the meaning behind what they do as closely, don't LET IT DEFINE themselves as much, perhaps. Is that close to how I've described it before? I need to remember I'm learning from what the story is telling me, not JUST trying to fit it into my preconceived notions, as tempting as that is.

And yeah, a Time player gets to understand how these cycles of growth and then stagnation loops keep happening, the picture of Vriska as a person growing a bit but getting complacent and comfortable and slipping back into bad habits.

Vriska is barely but still willing to accept that there is "some8ody out there still w8ing for me, even after all my fum8ling". (SPOILERS VRISKA, IT'S TEREZI, YOU DUNKASS!)

Vriska says she's wondering whether she and Aradia, despite everything that happened, could have ever been friends.

ARADIABOT: y0u mean if y0u had put in the time and w0rked 0n wh0 y0u are and bec0me ultimately the best versi0n of y0urself? ARADIABOT: hmm ARADIABOT: n0 VRISKA: !!!!!!!! VRISKA: C-can I 8sk why???????? VRISKA: D8 you h8 me that much? ARADIABOT: i d0nt hate you ARADIABOT: but i d0nt want to spend my time 0n y0u either VRISKA: 8ut!!!!!!!! ARADIABOT: v.v VRISKA: ........ VRISKA: ........ ok. VRISKA: Ok.

Vriska was always SO DESPERATE for Aradia to feel SOMETHING towards her. Even hatred. And she was always denied. But not everything is meant to be. And even if she can become a better person, you're not always going to gel with everyone.

This is all so wonderful.

{Vriska: Take Aradia's hand.}

The quest recuperacoon where she ascended...

This is the last image I can put in this post and it made me teary-eyed the instant I saw it and it's still making me teary-eyed. Wow. Fucking... wow, this... this entire trapped-in-a-time-singularity psychological confrontation and growth experience Vriska is undergoing... this is better than anything I could have asked for, for her and from this story. I love this all so much. So fucking much.

VRISKA: 8ut I am actually sorry. For everything. TAVROS: yOURE RIGHT, iT'S DEFINITELY POINTLESS TO SAY, bUT, iT IS AN APPRECI8TED GESTURE };)

{==>}

VRISKA: And, it's not going to 8e the same again. VRISKA: I'll stick with it this time. I promise. ARADIA: we kn0w ARADIA: y0u have t0 ARADIA: n0 0ne else is g0ing t0 save y0u n0w VRISKA: 8ecause it's just me left? ARADIA: yes ARADIA: its just y0u ARADIA: g00d luck vriska ARADIA: i h0pe y0u get better s00n

Even the infinity symbol on her eyepatch has broken just a little bit, like a broken cycle. That got a couple actual tears out of me. This is incredible.

{Level Complete!}

...She's reached the "8OUNDARY RESPECTER" level on her weird new hell/perdition-themed solitary-candle-in-the-darkness echeladder.

Wow. That was just... incredible.

Mindfang's journal is next, but I've hit the image limit, and it's a miracle I've had the energy to push through and liveblog morning to night like this today... but it was all so amazing I couldn't stop, and for now I HAVE to take that image limit excuse to pace myself and not complete that final sequence that's currently out, just yet. I'll probably liveblog that tomorrow... and if I have energy, maybe even check out some of the commentary, unless that's pushing it. Gosh I love this webcomic so much, everyone. This is better than anything I could have possibly expected to happen when she used the Plot Point.

Oh my god... it's called {S} Begin Session because it's an extended THERAPY SESSION. :DDD

Thanks for being on this journey with you guys later, and I'll be caught up soon! There's no way I'm going to be able to get through ALL of the Patreon/bonus commentary I've missed since HS2 resumed in one day, and I can't guarantee I'll even start on it, but by sometime tomorrow I'll be caught up on Homestuck^2, posted, finally and waiting for the next part of this game on Page 666 with bated breath like everyone else, ready to liveblog it within a day or two of each new upd8 while I gradually crawl through whatever bonus material I haven't covered. :D

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dwobbitfromtheshire · 11 months ago

Text

Stuck Between a Jock and a Metalhead

Summary: Nancy, on a whim, decides to visit Steve at Scoops Ahoy, which leads to her overhearing confessions from Steve that leads her to think about the decisions she's made. A few days later, she decides to come back. She finds him being hit on by the town freak. What's a girl to do? Oh, get stuck in a freezer with the both of them.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Steve was screaming as Nancy pointed the gun at him. Her finger was on the trigger. BANG! It went off, the bullet hitting him directly in the heart.

"You shot me," Steve said.

Blood poured out of the hole in his chest. He collapsed on the ground. He gasped for breath as the lights flickered all around them.

"Like we're in love?" Steve asked. "You don't love me?"

He went still as the life blinked out of him. His beautiful hazel eyes turned into blue gray, the color of a corpse. The demogorgon came lurking out from the darkness of the hallway and sniffed the air. It grabbed Steve around the ankles and started pulling him into the darkness. Steve’s dead eyes stared at her the entire time, they were weeping. Suddenly, Jonathan pulled her into his arms.

"It's okay, Nancy," Jonathan said. "Forget about him."

And then his face opened up.

Nancy stared at Jonathan as she waited for something to happen, for him to say something or for his face to open up. It's been a week since she visited Steve at Starcourt and a few days since she had that horrible nightmare. Now, she was sitting on Jonathan's bed, ending their relationship.

"Did I do something or say something?" Jonathan asked.

"What? No!" Nancy exclaimed.

"Then what's changed?" Jonathan asked.

"I have or well, not really," Nancy said. "I think I just let things in that I've been keeping locked up because of my guilt."

"Like what?" Jonathan asked.

"Like the fact that I'm still in love with Steve," Nancy said.

She hated the way he looked like he got punched.

"Why?" Jonathan asked. "Why Steve?"

"Because he's wonderful, kind, and so funny. It doesn't matter how many times he gets the short end of the stick. No matter how many times he gets screwed he doesn't expect anything in return. He loves those kids, one of them your own brother, like they were his own siblings. And despite what we did to him, despite it all, he still loves me, and he's willing to take whatever he can get. I think if I asked him to be, he would even be friends with you, which is more than what you were ever willing to do," Nancy said.

"I have a right to not want to be friends with someone," Jonathan said.

"Yes, and I have a right to not like it," Nancy said. "We both want different things. I know we don't want to admit it but I think we've always each had one foot in this relationship ever since it started."

Jonathan stared at her as if he wanted to argue with her. He sighed and flopped down next to her.

"Yeah, I think you're right. I think a part of me always felt a little weird with how we started," Jonathan said and paused. "I think it's why I always felt a little guilty whenever I even thought about being friends with Steve. It's easier to run away from it guess."

"That I understand," Nancy said.

"Is it bad that I feel a little relieved?" He asked.

"No, I feel it too. Maybe it's a good thing. Maybe it means we can go back to what we were always meant to be: friends," Nancy said.

"I'd like that," he said.

"Me too."

After breaking up with Jonathan, she decided to stop by Scoops Ahoy. She needed to see Steve and tell him about the latest development. She mostly just wanted to talk about it and she felt like he should be the first to know. He needed to be given a choice. Of course, she wanted to do things differently and not jump into it right away but he needed to know that the minute that she was ready, Steve would the guy for her. But maybe him doing everything for her is something he's always done so it really isn't anything different. Maybe she should ask him what he wants first and then if he's on the same page, they take their time.

Nancy smoothed her yellow dress down. He always loved the color yellow, especially on Nancy. She held her head high even with the thought that he could possibly reject her. It's probably what she deserves. When she walked into Scoops Ahoy, she didn't expect to see Steve leaning against the counter, talking to Eddie Munson. No, not just talking but flirting. Huh. It looked like Eddie was flirting back. Nancy wasn't as jealous as she thought she would be, not like she had been with Robin. No, the sight of Eddie and Steve so close. . .they looked good together. Huh, that was weird. Before she could question it further, Steve’s eyes landed on her, and somehow, he looked even happier.

"Hey, Steve," Nancy said, suddenly shy.

"Hey, Nance, are you here for business or pleasure?" Steve grinned.

"Can it be both?" She said coyly.

"Absolutely," Steve said.

"Oh, I didn't realize that you two were, uh. . . ," Eddie started to say.

"Oh, no, we're not together. She's dating Jonathan Byers," Steve said.

"Actually, we broke up," Nancy said.

"Really?!" Steve exclaimed, a little too enthusiastically, and he coughed. "I mean, really? Man, that sucks."

"Don't strain yourself trying to hide all that disappointment, man," Eddie said with a grin, and Nancy laughed.

She always had been a little curious about Eddie Munson, especially when he started making speeches in the cafeteria. He always seemed sort of charismatic to her and kind with a mean streak to match. He never seemed like a freak that everyone says he was. She always thought it was unfair that they called him that. They didn't even know him. Hell, she didn't know him, and she didn't think he was a freak. He was just a guy. Funny too, it seems.

"That's actually what I came here to - ," Nancy started to say but was cut off by someone banging loudly in the back.

"That would be the inventory shipment. They did have to come today, of course with Robin being sick and all. Sorry, guys, I have to close for lunch since I need to get this stuff put away before they melt," Steve sighed.

"Well, I've got two hands. I could help," Eddie said.

"Me too," Nancy said.

"Everyone wants to be like Eddie," the metalhead cackled.

"Does Eddie usually talk about himself in the third person?" Nancy asked.

"Eddie does not," he said and Nancy laughed.

"I'm not sure that's allowed," Steve said.

"I don't think it's illegal to talk about yourself in the third person," Eddie frowned and Nancy laughed again.

"No, I mean letting you guys help," Steve sighed.

"Who says anyone has to find out?" Eddie asked, grinning wickedly as he leaned into Steve’s space.

Nancy watched in amusement as Steve’s cheeks turned pink.

"Fine. It's not like the new delivery guys are going to help. I'm not entirely sure they speak English," Steve said. "But I can't pay you, not even in free ice cream."

"Well, it's a good thing I didn't come for free ice cream," Nancy grinned and Eddie laughed.

He led them into the backroom, where he opened up a door that led to a large hallway. A stony faced man stood outside, looking rather annoyed at having to wait. He held out the clipboard and tapped on it. Steve sighed and signed. As soon as he was done, the guy stomped off, leaving the deliveries in the hallway. He propped the door open with a chair, and with the help of the others, he started to haul them inside.

"My God, Wheeler, you're freakishly strong," Eddie said.

"I know. She once picked me up. . . It was great," Steve grinned.

"He also like being the little spoon," Nancy said.

"Nancy!" Steve exclaimed.

"Hey, man, nothing wrong with that. I do too, by the way," Eddie grinned.

Once the boxes were inside the room, Nancy grinned at Eddie's back. She thought about Steve and how he used to twirl her around. She snuck up behind Eddie, wrapped her arms around him, picked him up, and twirled him around. He let out a shriek, clutching his stomach.

"Nancy, you stole my move!" Steve mockingly scolded and she laughed.

Eddie stared at her, his eyes narrowed, as his face turned red by the minute.

"Well, I never!" Eddie exclaimed, looking appalled.

"Man, you look so flustered," Steve laughed.

"No, I think it's just something that I ate man," Eddie said. "My stomach feels a little weird."

"Yeah, butterflies," Steve scoffed.

"I would NEVER eat butterflies. That is sick," Eddie said, looking offended while Nancy giggled into her hand.

"No, it's - ," Steve said started to say.

"Just let it go, Steve," Nancy said in amusement.

Steve opened the walk-in freezer door and started kicking at it until it stayed open. They soon started bringing in the ice cream, Eddie singing about a magic dragon named Puff as he worked. Steve was finishing up putting the last of the ice cream on the shelves when Nancy saw Eddie bending down to look at something near the door.

"You've got something wedged under here. . .I'll get it," Eddie said.

Steve finished just in time to catch Eddie.

"Eddie! No!"

Eddie yanked the object out and held it in the air triumphantly. The freezer door slammed shut.

"What just happened?" Nancy asked.

"Eddie locked us in here," Steve said. "There's no handle on the inside of the freezer. That's why I use a pipe to prop it open," Steve sighed.

"Sometimes I really hate being an idiot," Eddie sighed. "On the bright side, all the ice cream is inside, so it won't melt now."

"Yeah, neither will we," Steve scoffed.

Suddenly, Nancy burst into laughter. Steve and Eddie looked at her in concern.

"Is she okay?" Eddie asked.

"I'm not sure," Steve frowned.

"After everything that we've been through, it's going to be accidentally locked in a freezer by Eddie Munson that does us in," Nancy laughed.

Suddenly, Steve started laughing as well, and Nancy leaned against Steve, her head against his shoulder.

"Okay, you guys have both lost it. I think the cold has already gotten to you," Eddie said. "Do you think that delivery guy will come back?"

"Probably not," Steve said.

"Damn," Eddie said.

They slid to the ground, curled up next to each other. They were already shivering. Eddie rolled his eyes. He took off his vest and jacket before sliding beside them. He pulled them in and tried to spread the material as much as possible. It was Nancy who worked it out by pulling herself into Steve’s lap and had Steve scooch closer to Eddie. Nancy shoved her hands underneath Steve’s shirt causing him to yelp.

"Sorry," Nancy said.

"It's fine," Steve said.

"You stopped waxing your chest," Nancy said. "It's nice."

"Probably once he quit the swim team," Eddie said.

"You noticed when I quit the swim team?" Steve asked.

". . .No," Eddie said quickly. "Let's just say I had to make sure of something."

"What does that mean?" Steve asked.

Nancy looked at Eddie, smiling and wondering if he was anything like Steve.

"I always thought that I just liked girls for the longest time, but it wasn't until I saw you that I figured out that I also liked men," Eddie said. "To make sure that I still liked women, I busted out one of my regular magazines, and well, you know. Of course, I wasn't sure how I was going to test out my theory. I didn't have access to one of those magazines, and lurking in the locker rooms seemed like a good way to get my ass kicked, so I started going to the swim meets. Just like when we bumped into each other in the hallway, it was like music started playing in my head when you walked out in that speedo. I thought my head was going to explode, that and. . .something else. So, yeah, I like both."

"Do I still make your head explode?" Steve asked.

"Please, not anymore. . . I'm cold as ice," Eddie said grinning.

"Very funny," Steve said, rolling his eyes. "Just so, you know, I like both too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"That's - "

"Do not say that's cool! No more cold jokes," Nancy scolded.

"That's really great, man," Eddie said, smiling at him softly. "Thanks for telling me."

"And Nancy," Steve said, and Nancy looked sheepishly at him. "What?"

"Don't get mad at me, but I kind of already guessed," Nancy shrugged, and Eddie laughed.

"I'm not mad," Steve laughed. "How?"

"Tom Cruise," Nancy said.

"Yeah, I was kind of obvious," Steve blushed. "Why didn't you say anything at the time?"

"Because I wasn't sure if you were aware of it or not, and I didn't want to push you," Nancy said.

"And you don't have a problem with it?" Steve said.

"You and me both having the same celebrity crush?" Nancy asked with an affectionate grin. "Nah."

The three of them giggled, the coldness seeping deeper in as they did so. They snuggled together even closer.

"So, did you keep going to my swim meets even after?" Steve asked Eddie.

"How do you think that I noticed you quit? You were really good," Eddie said.

"Well, I'm glad someone was rooting for me," Steve said. "My parents never showed up to any of my games and stuff."

"Damn, that blows. Yeah, my dad was the same way. It was always my Uncle Wayne who was always there for me. It took me a while to realize he's always been the dad to me that I've always wanted," Eddie said.

"The kids that I babysit for, a couple of their parents are starting to feel that way for me," Steve said with a smile.

Nancy smiled, glad to know that Steve didn't feel totally alone. They fell into a momentary silence. Nancy stared at Eddie curiously.

"Not that I mind, but out of curiosity, why did you tell us?" Nancy asked. "I mean, you barely know us, right? At least, I barely know you. I'm not sure about you and Steve."

"He came in right before you did so, yeah, we barely know each other," Steve said.

"Because. . .I think we're going to die here," Eddie paused, his bottom lip trembling. "And it's all my fault."

Nancy sucked in a breath, and she thought back to her dream.

"I almost shot Steve," Nancy admitted.

Steve’s eyes widened, staring at her as well as Eddie. Steve shook his head at her.

"Come again?" Eddie asked.

"I almost shot Steve. It was a while ago when Will Byers went missing. Everyone was on edge, and there was a monster. Let's just leave it at that. Steve came over to the Byers' house to apologize for something shitty he said that day. Honestly, with what was going on, it really didn't matter oncr you put it all in perspective. I wanted him to leave, to get somewhere safe. So I pointed the gun at him with my finger on the trigger. I didn't even realize that my finger was on the trigger. I just wanted to scare him into leaving. He left, but then he came back even with the monster, even knowing that I could have killed him," Nancy said. "He came back for me."

"Damn," Eddie whispered.

"It wasn't my intention to almost kill Steve, just like it wasn't your intention to trap us in here. Someone is going to come for us. We're going to get out," Nancy said as she snuggled into Steve and Eddie.

They went quiet again for a little while. Nancy and Steve went still as the bulb above them started to flicker.

"Hey, guys, I'm getting a little sleepy here. That's a bad sign, right?" Eddie asked. "I can't believe that I'm going to die without having kissed a boy yet."

"Do you want to?" Steve asked.

"Yeah," Eddie said.

Steve shifted them around until he was face to face with Eddie, Nancy only inches away herself. Steve moved forward and pressed his lips to Eddie's while Nancy looked on with wide eyes. She couldn't help but think about how beautiful they looked. It was quick but sweet at the same time. Steve pulled back, and they settled against Eddie again.

"Now, you have," Steve said.

They fell into silence again until Eddie let out a whimper as he shivered.

"I don't want to die. I don't want to leave Wayne all alone," Eddie whispered softly. "I'm sorry."

Their eyes slid shut, and Nancy could feel herself slowly falling asleep. Suddenly, she could hear voices outside the door. She heard it open, and then she felt her body being dragged out the door. She saw Eddie and Steve being dragged out as well. When Nancy woke up, her head was in someone's lap, and she had a nice warm blanket over her. She was looking up into the kind face of Joyce Byers. Chief Hopper was leaning over her as well.

"Hey, I need to know who the asshole is that locked you in that freezer," Hopper said softly.

Nancy burst into a fit of giggles. She knew it was slightly serious but she couldn't help it. It was just so funny.

"I think she's still out of it," Joyce said.

"It's me, I'm the asshole," Eddie muttered weakly.

"What?" Hopper asked.

"I'm the asshole who stupidly pulled the pipe from underneath the door and who didn't know that there wasn't a handle on the inside," Eddie said. "Why wouldn't there be a handle on the inside?"

"So, the ice cream wouldn't escape," Steve said seriously.

The three of them burst into laughter while Hopper sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"This would have been the dumbest way for you kids to die. Do you realize that?" Hopper asked.

"The dumbest!" The three of them exclaimed before laughing again.

Maybe it was the euphoria from surviving, or maybe it was being in close proximity with these two, but Nancy couldn't stop laughing. When she finally did, she looked up at Joyce.

"How did you guys find us?" She asked.

"El," Hopper explained.

"That means nothing to me," Eddie said.

"And it isn't going to," Hopper replied.

"Fine," he said. "I didn't want to know anyway."

The three of them were soon left alone with steaming mugs of hot coffee.

"We should do this again," Nancy said.

"Almost die together?" Eddie asked.

"No, I mean, hang out," she said.

"Is that what you call hanging out?" He asked incredulously.

"Well, actually - " Steve started to say.

"You almost died with people you barely knew. I know I'm interested in getting to know you," Nancy said.